11 January 2012

Lessons Never Learned

current state of mind: borderline

Make amends for what’s been done
Cause I believe that she’s the one
And I will go where sea gulls fly
And try to find sweet Lorelei
~ “When Mermaids Cry” by Eagle-Eye Cherry

On Sunday, ‘Dad of 3’ and I went to a vineyard and winery in Iowa. A couple other friends joined us. The wine was mediocre; but the scenery was pretty and the place had a plethora of farm cats. As soon as I was out of the car, I spied a little ginger kitten with light stripes. She was looking at me from around a well. I knew right then that I had to have that kitten. I approached it slowly; worried that she may flee before I could pet her. Luck was on my side. The kitten stayed still and I kneeled down to stroke her soft fur. She purred and arched her back in that way cats do when they want you to take them home so they don’t have to live on a vineyard where they serve mediocre wine. Of course, Eleanor, as I silently named the kitty in my head, had her claws and she wasn’t as fond of being picked up as she was just being petted. I told her I would be back and then went inside to sample the wine. I explained to ‘Dad of 3’ that I really needed to take my new kitten home. He said that there was no chance in Hell that kitten was riding in his car. Granted, he didn’t actually say “no chance in hell”; but I could read between the lines of his thoughtful answer.

I continued to talk about the kitten until he made this compromise:
“If you ask the owners if you can have the kitten, then I will support you bringing it home. But, since I know you won’t actually ask them, I am pretty confident that the cat is staying here on the farm with her brothers and sisters where she will be happiest.”
This little turn of events created a conundrum. I really wanted the cat; but I really did not want to ask for it. Still, I was willing to test the waters. I went up to the bar and asked for another wine sample from my list. While there, I casually mentioned, “Wow, you sure do have a lot of cats out here.”

The proprietress smiled and said, “Yeah, we need them to control the mice population. My daughter loves them and thinks they are her pets. She even names them all. When one wanders off or gets killed by a predator, she is always upset.”

All of my bravery was stolen in that moment. I mumbled something about how I saw that really sweet little ginger kitten and had to pet it. She laughed and mentioned that particular one was one of her daughter’s favorites because she was so friendly. I thanked her for my wine and went and sat back down.

‘Dad of 3’ was laughing at me. While he acknowledged his surprise that I even broached the subject, he also made sure I knew that he knew I was not given permission to take Eleanor home. He topped it off with mentioning that I would not only be breaking the kitten’s heart by stealing her from her family; but I would be breaking a little girl’s heart as well. I did rationalize that the kitten would likely be dead soon anyway, living out in the cold Iowa elements with predators and cars and frigid temperatures. He didn’t buy my argument. When we were driving away, I looked over and saw Eleanor playing with two other kittens by a well-constructed pet house in the yard. Needless to say, I did not run over and steal her.

Morality – 1 / Girl Genius - 0

Moving on, I have a scratch on my index finger. It may have been a gift from that cute little ginger kitten or just a result of my clumsy nature. I am not able to definitively ascertain the true origin of this particular scratch. I am able to discern, however, that it is infected. It hurts, is bright red, and radiates heat. Yesterday, I attempted to do the “right” thing and cleaned it with soap and water, then put some Neosporin and a Band-Aid over it. By early evening, the Band-Aid was annoying me so I removed it. As a result, I am back to square one. Now, I have my own effective (though conceivably staph-inducing) method of removing the infection. It has only failed me a few times in the past (e.g. when I did self-surgery on my elbow last spring). Luckily some antibiotics cleared that issue right up and now I have a pretty scar to show off.

All of that being said, I really would like to avoid another doctor’s visit over a little scratch, so perhaps I need to just get another Band-Aid. Okay, good talk. Thanks!

Also, if you haven’t already, please go on Facebook and “Like” Billings Photography. Because my parents are rock stars.

PERSONAL NOTE: Congratulations on your new job!!!!!!!!

CONFIDENTIAL NOTE: I am almost out of lotion! Grrrr.

Eidetic Vision

Main Entry: ei·det·ic Pronunciation: I-'det-ik Function: adjective : marked by or involving extraordinarily accurate and vivid recall especially of visual images - an eidetic memory Merriam-Webster's Dictionary, © 2002 Merriam-Webster, Inc.