3. Notes - Live With It

3. "Live with it" 27 August 2019

       One after twelve. The workers are coating the ceiling in the kitchen, dining/living room and hallway a smoothed white plaster. Tomorrow they will lightly imprint the white with textured, smoothed out splats. Carol is napping Spooky is under the bed sleeping and Jadah is looking at the bedroom window on another dreary day in north Westerville. Traffic sounds from I-71 roll by north to south and south to north about five hundred yards away down the hill and beyond the trees and a few houses on Africa Road where it intersects with Lewis Center Road to the west and Big Walnut Road to the east. - Amorella

       1959 hours. Watching the sunset above and between the trees -- a light pinkish glow with a blue sky above, both very welcome. Jadah is sitting and cleaning on an outdoor black stand next to the window. She was. Jadah is a black and white short hair with green eyes, pink nose and pink paw pads and an all-black tail. Daughter Kim got her from a rescue group in east Cleveland where she and Paul were living. Jadah was found in a foreclosed house. The owners left her because they couldn't find her. If Jadah doesn't want to be found she won't be without a lot of work. Clever cat she is. She likes to play cat and mouse with us and follow the leader, that is, she leads and we follow. She was seven and a half pounds and has for as long as we have known her. Jadah has a great deal of empathy and meows to make sure we stay calm during a momentary stress, such as temporarily losing something we don't have tagged with an electronic Tile. Spooky is a rescue cat too. All black with a small tuff of light gray at her genitals. Her acting mother dropped her off at our front porch in full sight of us. Mother cat appeared to have nothing else to give this particular kitten. She disappeared back into the woods touching our back yard in Mason. She grew once we took her in and to the vet. Spooky was not much larger than my right fist. Tiny little thing, we didn't think she would make it. Jadah helped care for her and show Spooky the ropes of life at our house. That was several years ago. She's a hulk today, sixteen pounds of seeable black with large yellow eyes, almost a young owl's eyes. She spooks almost every day. Out of the blue, she jumps up and rushes around the house like a banshee. I'm not sure what a banshee really is; always have to look things up. Always have. Little memory.

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Banshee- noun (in Irish legend) a female spirit whose wailing warns of an impending death in a house: the little girl dropped her ice cream and began to howl like a banshee | [as modifier] :  a horrible banshee wail. 

ORIGIN late 17th century: from Irish bean sídhe, from Old Irish ben síde ‘woman of the fairies’.

Selected and edited from the Oxford/American software

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       2028 hours. Spooky is like a female spirit, although to be honest I wouldn't know a female spirit from a male. Spirits don't propagate as far as I know. I have never read about spiritual genetics. My life-long experience is that a spirit can take whatever sex one is most comfortable with, or uncomfortable with, depending. Spooky doesn't wail, she rarely attempts to meow, she rushes like a banshee. Spooky mostly has a snappy clipped bark when she wants food we have not provided at the time she has her desire to eat. Spooky is our Halloween cat and though we try to love them both equally, we just cannot do so. We love and care for them both though. In return they lean toward wife, Carol and tolerate me, except in the Winter when this old man's body heat can, with a touch, help make any of the three at home females more snugglingly comfortable.

       Old man, did you know souls don't have any heat? - mh

       2052 hours. I did not know that. Why, Ms Havisham?

       A full soul, one holding a spiritual human heart and a spiritual human mind, holds enough heat for the three of us, your heartansoulanmind, your human spirit. - mh

       2057 hours. Most every human, young and old, knows what it's like to feel the heat from time to time. I never thought about what an immortal soul might feel empty or full. Never considered it. People say, "my soul," like they own it, like it's pet and a not very well-cared-for one at that. 

       You are a cynical old man. Fortunately for you, I am not. - mh

       Post, old man. Don't think about apologizing for being human. Live with it. - Amorella