Welcome to our latest blog on our Ning network. Sorry we’ve been gone so long. We’ve had a lot of computer issues. My HP Pavilion died on February 1st, then Stephen’s laptop had to go into the shop again for the 24th time since he’d gotten it nearly 3 years ago. On June 1st, our favorite putty, Bailee was poisoned. She died a slow agonizing and painful death all because some a__hole decided it was better to kill a few rats using poison than to let the animals (both cats and dogs kill the rodents the more natural way, the way the Goddess intended. There are certain breeds of dog, your smaller breeds that are uniquely suited to hunting down rats and killing them. The reason cats moved from Egypt to all over the world was because of their primal skills in hunting down both rats and mice. As you can probably tell, I’m still pretty angry about it. Bailee was a sweet, loving, docile cat. Stephen had her for 4 ½ years, counting out the time she was with Debbie and Megan.
I had three songs I used to sing to Bailee: “Hey there Bailee Girl,” “Bailee Go ‘Round the Roses,” and the Temptations’ “My Girl.” She didn’t care if you had an operatic voice like Pat Benatar, or sounded like a foghorn. She didn’t even care if you could carry a tune. She loved to be sung to. I guess it was because it meant you were paying attention to her. She was a love and affection sponge. She would soak up all the affection you had to give her and beg for more. Bailee meant a great deal to us. Losing her has made a big hole in our household. We considered her to be very magickal. She was the inventor of the “Hundredth Putty Phenomenon”, a takeoff from Ken Keyes’ 100th Monkey Phenomenon. Bailee would stick her paw in the food bin, take out a piece of food, and and eat it. She taught all the other putties, and soon they were all doing it. We don’t know whether the putties in the next block are doing it or not. The following is a poem I wrote to Bailee:
Bailee you were so sweet
You made the birds go tweet
Loving, you gave us two hours
To stop petting you among the flowers
You liked to stare at the roses
And bite us on our noses
Your purr was very loud
Although going out was not allowed
You were unbowed
By your weight and long fur
Very seldom did you go grrr
We love you very much
You thrilled to our very touch
You taught them all the hundredth putty
Although you were a mutty
Your crossed paws signaled danger
Known to us but not a stranger
When you’re not near us we’re blue
O Bailee we love you!
Friday we went into Stephen’s Bunko de Amerika account, and instead of the $400+ he expected to see in his account, there was just a little more than $100. Seventy had been taken out for overdraft charges. The rest of the money had simply evaporated. The only good news is that the bank did pay the checks. The bad news is that he doesn’t have the money to pay anything on the rent. He desperately needs as many paid readings as possible. Just 20 readings, classes, and/or research gigs would get him out of this mess he’s gotten himself into. Don’t set back and think that your neighbor will do it, he needs YOUR reading now. If you’re local, the number is 916-455-2267. The toll-free number 1-888-611-7982. For donations, you can go to Paypal at abbotts_inn@yahoo.com. The stress and anxiety is taking a toll on his health. His asthma has been acting up. This afternoon we’ll be going to pick up his inhaler stuff. Stephen plans to call Bunko de America tomorrow and see if he can get one or both of the charges refunded. Will him good luck. He thinks he has a chance, as he hasn’t asked for this for over a year. As Judy Tenuda, the Goddess says, our favorite comedienne says, “It could happen!”
We were on our way last night to Gallery 14 to see the new exhibit. Last month we we were resting at a bus stop when someone came along and said, “That bus doesn’t run here anymore.” We replied “We know, we’re just resting and working.” This time I thought I’d reply with an old joke. Stephen wants me to tell it here, so here it is:
A woman went into her kitchen and opened the door to her refrigerator to discover a squirrel reclining on one of the shelves. “What are you doing here?” she askeed.
“Is this a Westinghouse?” it asked, referring to the brand of the fridge.
“Well, I’m westing,” the squirrel replied..
The art by Cynthia Parker is abstract mosaics made with broken mirrors. In a way, it’s accidental art. I interviewed her about her art. I asked that old chestnut, “Where do you get your ideas?”
You know, I used to live with a psychopath. I had all these mirrors I’d collected since I was a child, and he broke them all. I said to myself ‘I can’t get rid of them, I just can’t bear it.’ So I started to put them back together. I didn’t manipulate the pieces in any way. I did play with them a bit, and these are the result.”
My personal favorites are “Angel” because I could actually see the wings sweeping up, and “The Rose” because I could see the petals and leaves.
Stephen said of it that “It’s very unique, unusual, and self-exposing because you can see yourself in it.”
Walt said in the flyer on it, “Cynthia Parker holds up a cracked mirror for our inspection, and shows us the image of our fragmented selves--imperfect, yet perfectly fascinating.”
The exhibit is at Gallery 14, 3960 60th st. at 14th Avenue, Sacramento, CA 95820, and runs until July 2nd.
I think it’s a very creative way of using something that otherwise would be trashed. It’s kind of like found art.
Stephen said, “It takes some effort to break the pieces in such a way as to produce the desired effect.”
I said to him, “I’m surprised you’d want to see an exhibit like this. It’s a bad place for vampires.”
“They’re already broken.”
“Vampires don’t break mirrors, silly, they just don’t show up in them.”
“I’m not a full-fledged vampire, and besides, I’m adaptable.”
Ms. Parker said, “After I ran out of my own mirrors, people started bringing me their broken mirrors. She seemed anxious and nervous whether people would like it. Indeed, from the smell of her, she had armed herself with several doses of Dutch courage before coming there.
“Modern art is all about confidence,” I told her, and told her the story of the “Emperor’s New Clothes”, which is my favorite analogy about modern art.
Belisama showed up. She’s going to school with a view towards getting a degree in forensic psychology and criminal justice. She’s a Witch I met almost 2 years ago at the Pagan Pride festival in September ‘09. She had her husband Charlie and her youngest granddaughter, Aurora, in tow. The child found some drawing materials, and settled down to generating her own kind of art. Stephen first met her when she was a teen runaway in his commune back in September, ‘71.
We met Sioux, who is an activist for medical marijuana, which is a subject close to our hearts. She gave us a ride home, so I didn’t have to struggle on the long walk home. Marijuana was the only substance that helped her after the “traditional” pharmaceuticals made her sick almost to death. We discussed NORML. I got her phone number, so I’m going to call her later on.
Remember, go to http://abbottsinninternational.com/ , http://abbottsinn.com/, call 1-888-611-7982, and order a reading, a class, and or research. YOUR reading could be the one that enables Stephen to go to Walmart and get s $500 money order to send to our landlady.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Friday, June 3, 2011
Goodbye, Bailee, and We Go On
Early Wednesday afternoon Bailee died. We think it was rat poison. With so man cats and dogs on this block, why do they insist on using poison? It’s better to let the animals control the rat population. Another possibility is spider bite. The vet said that it was an unusual poison, because there was no bleeding of the eyes, nose or mouth. Tegwedd thinks she might have had some convulsions. She seemed to jerk a bit while Tegwedd held her, but she thought that Bailee was just trying to catch her breath. Debbie thought it might be a spider bite. Stephen found a headless rat by where he found her. Stephen and Walt buried Bailee in the very back of the backyard. We said some words over her grave, and Tegwedd planted a small walnut seedling on her grave.
Dr. Livingston is lying on her back between the back cushion and the back of the couch. She got on the arm of the couch, then when Stephen petted her, she fell backwards into the trash can.
Bailee taught the other putties the hundredth putty, where the putty will reach in with hir paw, and take out one piece of food, then eat it out of the food bin. The hundredth putty thing is a take off from the 100th monkey phenomenon. When you get to critical mass, all the putties across the street, and across the city will be doing it.
The house seems empty without Bailee, which is strange when you consider how full of stuff this house is. Pyewacket and Putty Bear like to hang out on the stove. Tegwedd said, “Do you know which song they should be singing?” “No, what?” said Stephen. “Home...home on the range,” she sang.
We’ll missed the crossed paws. It was dangerous when Bailee crossed her paws in front of her. It was a form of communication--putty sign language. We always thought that they were plotting something dastardly and nefarious. The putties sit on the TV remote and change the channel. A lot of the time they change it to Animal Planet.
Tegwedd’s ex-hubby Andy used to steer Bailee around on her back on the carpet, and she would just buzz her head off. The putties have tag team wrestling matches. They engage in putty combat whenever possible. Just a little while ago we heard some growling coming from the stove. Neither of us got up to investigate. Stephen asked, “What’s for dinner?” Tegwedd asked, “Where’s my dinner, taking a cue from what Putty Bear said when he first came in here.
We now have a pentacle of putties. After 10 pm we turn off the porch light. Tegwedd stretched out her feet on the footstool, aka the Summer Palace, and Frakki, who was already there, sniffed at her feet then attacked them. Tegwedd had Pyewacket resting on her chest, where she likes to lie, and Dr. Livingston came over and whapped the other putty for no good reason. Frakki has created her own form of divination using used drinking straws, which she scatters all over the floor. Tegwedd is working out a way of interpreting the pattern thus formed. She thinks it’ll be similar to tea leaf reading, coffee grounds reading, or bean reading, but she isn’t quite sure. We’re going to see Bailee in our peripheral vision for quite some time. The back yard is now Bailee’s yard. She loved the yard. She liked to look at it from the back porch. She also liked to look at the roses from the window. Tegwedd used to sing “Bailee go ‘round the Roses” (a take off of the old song “Sally go ‘round the Roses) to her. Bailee loved it when we sang to her. All the putties love to be sung to. It doesn’t matter what kind of voice you have, or whether you can carry a tune. They love the attention. Tegwedd also sang “Hey there Bailee Girl” to her. Bailee was 24 lbs. of comedy and terror, emphasis on the comedy. She had many names, Bailee Beasely Beastly, Triple B Threat, 3B, Ma Bailee, and Machine Gun Bailee. But we never called her Late for Dinner. Watch your putties. Maybe get them in at 6 pm like we do. Tegwedd’s face is now being licked by Pyewacket. She’ll give you 2 hours to quit scritching her. Tegwedd is surrounded by female putties. Dr. Livingston is at her left shoulder on the back of the couch, Pyewacket is still on her chest, and Frakki is on the footstool at her feet. Pyewacket is the putty raptor. She is really aggressive when it comes to cold cuts. She’ll bite your finger if it’s near a piece of salami. Putty Bear has gotten huge, but what comes out of his mouth but squeaks. We’re seeing if Cirque de Soleil would like to have Dr. Livingston for awhile as a contortionist. But these putties can form very regal poses then they’ll lie on their backs with their paws in the air in these hilarious poses. They’re very tough putties, you know. They can lick anyone in the house, and often do. But they aren’t good watch dogs. Worst they can do to you is lick you to death or bite your nose. The closest they get to watch putties is that we watch them.
Putty Bear is very very funny. He knows when you’re getting ready to go out, and he’s right at the door to escape when you leave. Nor can he be gotten back inside quickly or easily. He’s become very predictable as to where he goes when he’s not supposed to go out. He can be found on the side of the house, curled up into a ball, forming his very own miniature crop circle. Boy is he going to be mad when Stephen weed eats that long grass. He’ll have to find another spot to press down. Since Bailee’s death, the other putties have, in our opinion, become more affectionate. Last night Pyewacket gave Tegwedd’s face a thorough bath, focusing on her nose. She spent a good part of the evening and this morning on Tegwedd’s chest. Like the others. she’s a tough putty, and can lick anyone in the house. When you’re petting her, she’ll give you about 2 hours to stop, and often does. Putty Bear used to lose their fights, but since he’s gotten so huge, he’s won 3 fights against Pyewacket so far.
The Sheriff’s Dept. is investigating the poisoning, and Stephen will contact the SPCA. Even though Dr. Livingston is a full adult, she is still a shoulder putty. Most shoulder putties grow out of it, but she hasn’t. When Stephen brought in Putty Bear, Dr. Livingston was on his shoulder. As has been mentioned before, the surviving putties make up a pentacle of putties. Let’s hear it for Magickal Pentacle Putty Power! Inky, our panther putty, is the elder now. I call him Inka Dinka Doodle Doo. The two males are not related to the three females. Inky is Tegwedd’s boy friend now. She told the Queen that her boyfriend was short and black. The Queen guessed right away that Tegwedd was talking about a putty. When Tegwedd first moved in, Inky lowered her blood pressure 11 points. Inky is 1st putty, who lived in pits and learned to use his claws in self defense. That’s an adaptation of a FireSign Theatre routine.
Here is a poem that Tegwedd wrote to Bailee:
Ode to Bailee
Bailee, you were so sweet
You made the birds go tweet tweet
Loving, you gave us two hours
To stop petting you among the flowers
You liked to stare at the roses
And bite us on our noses
Your purr was very loud
Even though going out was not allowed
You were unbowed
By your weight and long fur
Very seldom did you go grrr!
We love you very much
You thrilled to our very touch
You taught them all the hundredth putty
Even though you were mutty
Your crossed paws signalled danger
Known by us but not a stranger
When you’re not near us, we’re blue
O Bailee we love you!
To sum this whole thing up, we miss Bailee, but the rest of the putties are doing their best to console us for her loss. We noe have a pentacle of putties that keep our stress level down by making us laugh at their comical antics. When one of them tries to jump up on something like the video tape cabinet or coffee table and misses, falling down in a most undignified manner, they try to recapture their dignity while we quote the immortal words of our favorite stand up philosopher, the late great George Carlin, “I meant to do that. I’ve been planning it all week. I’ll be here till Thursday.”
Dr. Livingston is lying on her back between the back cushion and the back of the couch. She got on the arm of the couch, then when Stephen petted her, she fell backwards into the trash can.
Bailee taught the other putties the hundredth putty, where the putty will reach in with hir paw, and take out one piece of food, then eat it out of the food bin. The hundredth putty thing is a take off from the 100th monkey phenomenon. When you get to critical mass, all the putties across the street, and across the city will be doing it.
The house seems empty without Bailee, which is strange when you consider how full of stuff this house is. Pyewacket and Putty Bear like to hang out on the stove. Tegwedd said, “Do you know which song they should be singing?” “No, what?” said Stephen. “Home...home on the range,” she sang.
We’ll missed the crossed paws. It was dangerous when Bailee crossed her paws in front of her. It was a form of communication--putty sign language. We always thought that they were plotting something dastardly and nefarious. The putties sit on the TV remote and change the channel. A lot of the time they change it to Animal Planet.
Tegwedd’s ex-hubby Andy used to steer Bailee around on her back on the carpet, and she would just buzz her head off. The putties have tag team wrestling matches. They engage in putty combat whenever possible. Just a little while ago we heard some growling coming from the stove. Neither of us got up to investigate. Stephen asked, “What’s for dinner?” Tegwedd asked, “Where’s my dinner, taking a cue from what Putty Bear said when he first came in here.
We now have a pentacle of putties. After 10 pm we turn off the porch light. Tegwedd stretched out her feet on the footstool, aka the Summer Palace, and Frakki, who was already there, sniffed at her feet then attacked them. Tegwedd had Pyewacket resting on her chest, where she likes to lie, and Dr. Livingston came over and whapped the other putty for no good reason. Frakki has created her own form of divination using used drinking straws, which she scatters all over the floor. Tegwedd is working out a way of interpreting the pattern thus formed. She thinks it’ll be similar to tea leaf reading, coffee grounds reading, or bean reading, but she isn’t quite sure. We’re going to see Bailee in our peripheral vision for quite some time. The back yard is now Bailee’s yard. She loved the yard. She liked to look at it from the back porch. She also liked to look at the roses from the window. Tegwedd used to sing “Bailee go ‘round the Roses” (a take off of the old song “Sally go ‘round the Roses) to her. Bailee loved it when we sang to her. All the putties love to be sung to. It doesn’t matter what kind of voice you have, or whether you can carry a tune. They love the attention. Tegwedd also sang “Hey there Bailee Girl” to her. Bailee was 24 lbs. of comedy and terror, emphasis on the comedy. She had many names, Bailee Beasely Beastly, Triple B Threat, 3B, Ma Bailee, and Machine Gun Bailee. But we never called her Late for Dinner. Watch your putties. Maybe get them in at 6 pm like we do. Tegwedd’s face is now being licked by Pyewacket. She’ll give you 2 hours to quit scritching her. Tegwedd is surrounded by female putties. Dr. Livingston is at her left shoulder on the back of the couch, Pyewacket is still on her chest, and Frakki is on the footstool at her feet. Pyewacket is the putty raptor. She is really aggressive when it comes to cold cuts. She’ll bite your finger if it’s near a piece of salami. Putty Bear has gotten huge, but what comes out of his mouth but squeaks. We’re seeing if Cirque de Soleil would like to have Dr. Livingston for awhile as a contortionist. But these putties can form very regal poses then they’ll lie on their backs with their paws in the air in these hilarious poses. They’re very tough putties, you know. They can lick anyone in the house, and often do. But they aren’t good watch dogs. Worst they can do to you is lick you to death or bite your nose. The closest they get to watch putties is that we watch them.
Putty Bear is very very funny. He knows when you’re getting ready to go out, and he’s right at the door to escape when you leave. Nor can he be gotten back inside quickly or easily. He’s become very predictable as to where he goes when he’s not supposed to go out. He can be found on the side of the house, curled up into a ball, forming his very own miniature crop circle. Boy is he going to be mad when Stephen weed eats that long grass. He’ll have to find another spot to press down. Since Bailee’s death, the other putties have, in our opinion, become more affectionate. Last night Pyewacket gave Tegwedd’s face a thorough bath, focusing on her nose. She spent a good part of the evening and this morning on Tegwedd’s chest. Like the others. she’s a tough putty, and can lick anyone in the house. When you’re petting her, she’ll give you about 2 hours to stop, and often does. Putty Bear used to lose their fights, but since he’s gotten so huge, he’s won 3 fights against Pyewacket so far.
The Sheriff’s Dept. is investigating the poisoning, and Stephen will contact the SPCA. Even though Dr. Livingston is a full adult, she is still a shoulder putty. Most shoulder putties grow out of it, but she hasn’t. When Stephen brought in Putty Bear, Dr. Livingston was on his shoulder. As has been mentioned before, the surviving putties make up a pentacle of putties. Let’s hear it for Magickal Pentacle Putty Power! Inky, our panther putty, is the elder now. I call him Inka Dinka Doodle Doo. The two males are not related to the three females. Inky is Tegwedd’s boy friend now. She told the Queen that her boyfriend was short and black. The Queen guessed right away that Tegwedd was talking about a putty. When Tegwedd first moved in, Inky lowered her blood pressure 11 points. Inky is 1st putty, who lived in pits and learned to use his claws in self defense. That’s an adaptation of a FireSign Theatre routine.
Here is a poem that Tegwedd wrote to Bailee:
Ode to Bailee
Bailee, you were so sweet
You made the birds go tweet tweet
Loving, you gave us two hours
To stop petting you among the flowers
You liked to stare at the roses
And bite us on our noses
Your purr was very loud
Even though going out was not allowed
You were unbowed
By your weight and long fur
Very seldom did you go grrr!
We love you very much
You thrilled to our very touch
You taught them all the hundredth putty
Even though you were mutty
Your crossed paws signalled danger
Known by us but not a stranger
When you’re not near us, we’re blue
O Bailee we love you!
To sum this whole thing up, we miss Bailee, but the rest of the putties are doing their best to console us for her loss. We noe have a pentacle of putties that keep our stress level down by making us laugh at their comical antics. When one of them tries to jump up on something like the video tape cabinet or coffee table and misses, falling down in a most undignified manner, they try to recapture their dignity while we quote the immortal words of our favorite stand up philosopher, the late great George Carlin, “I meant to do that. I’ve been planning it all week. I’ll be here till Thursday.”
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