Stardate -304218.72 Captain’s Personal Log

There seem to have been several health effects from the move, although I can’t definitively pin down cause & effect. 1) The frog got mysteriously sick, stopped eating, & for a while there I was afraid we were going to lose him. 2) Freddiecat started having severe digestive issues, diarrhea & vomiting multiple times a day, & I was terrified we were going to lose him. 3) I have been having multiple skin rashes for months here, with my doctor trying various treatments & finally sending me to a dermatologist.

1) At the old house the tap water was fine to use in the aquarium as long as I treated it. I’ve been doing this for +10 years, and got the baby frog in 2009, & kept him healthy ever since. Weekly water changes, regular maintenance, & every once in a while I test the aquarium water for basic chemical levels. Nitrates, nitrites, alkalinity, pH, etc. After the move the nitrates went through the roof. The plants withered. Froggy got skinnier. I thought it might’ve been the stress of the physical move itself, & increased the water changes. But things just got worse. Now things finally seem on the mend, after much effort. The PetSmart lady said cleaning *too much* might’ve been making things worse! So I started using distilled bottled water, & no treated tap water. & first skipped cleaning for 2 weeks. Counterintuitive, like a Chinese finger trap. Star Trek fans will appreciate the reference. I started froggy off on some bug stick food, that’s supposed to have an appetizing smell. They’re messy & they sink instead of float, like his usual food, so I don’t feed him that much anymore, but he did start eating again. & now the water levels are steadily improving. & froggy is regaining his healthy muscle. So – no tap water from here. Not even treated.

2) Freddiecat at first had diarrhea. It grew more liquidy & messy. Then the diarrhea was replaced by vomiting. Over this time I tried him on various types of gentle foods, sensitive systems foods, supplements, & took him to the vet a few times. We tried a Feliway defuser for anxiety. (We thought his problem might be a psychological reaction to the move and grief over missing the 3 cats I had to rehome.) Anti-emetics weren’t particularly effective at first. We took that also as evidence that maybe his problem wasn’t physical. The vet put him on amitriptyline. That seemed to work, and then it didn’t. That was pretty much how most of the treatment attempts were for him: a slight improvement at first, and then back to *barf barf barf*. He was losing weight, and cleaning the mess was becoming quite depressing. Then after the vet ran a lot of bloodwork, and we found out a lot of things that *weren’t * the problem (his thyroid is fine, his kidneys are fine, his liver is fine, his blood count is normal). But he was still vomiting and losing weight. So the vet tried Freddiecat on steroids. That finally seemed to have a very positive effect. The vomiting stopped. The diarrhea stopped. He’s eating. He even feels good and happy enough to hump his cat beds. He brings me sparkle puffs, he begs for pets and cuddles, he allows himself to be brushed. He even feels to my hand like he’s regained some of his fleshy covering over his bony prominences. Freddiecat isn’t too difficult to medicate, & he gets one prednisone pill a day. He’s on his second month. After this maybe the vet will want him to taper off & see how he does. Is it irritable bowel syndrome? We really don’t know for sure. But the other 2 cats here, Pickleson & Caprica, have not had any of these problems. Freddiecat is the oldest, a senior cat at 15 years old. & frogs are a delicate species that show problems earlier than other hardier species. Sort of a “canary in the coal mine” kind of thing.

…

3) & then we get to me. Ever since we moved here I’ve been getting these skin rashes. Kind of itchy pimply-looking red and angry. So I’ve tried acne soaps and treatments. I’ve tried soothing soaps and lotions and calamine & Aveeno oatmeal stuff. Nothing I’ve tried has worked. My doctor 1st advised Dove moisturizing bath wash, then tried courses of antibiotics, then steroids, but nothing had a lasting improvement. Not long after any medical treatment ended, the rashes came right back. So my doctor sent me to a dermatologist. He put me on a regimen of doxycycline, acne treatment, AND steroid creams. The rashes did improve. But I ran out of the steroid skin creams this weekend, & my insurance won’t refill it until the 19th of April. & my period is right now, as well, which always makes everything much worse. Besides the cramps, passing out, diarrhea, & occasional vomiting, my eyes & skin dry out, I’m more prone to seizures AND asthma attacks…. my period is just an autoimmune clusterfuck when my whole body screams how much it hates me. So, of course I would run out of the steroid cream Now. Needless to say, the rashes are back with a vengeance, doxycycline & acne treatments be damned.

So the obvious common factor is the water here. With the least hardy of us being effected.

Stardate -305939.84 Dear Smacky

Well, it’s been almost 2 years since you’ve died. We all miss you so very much. & since in my dreams you’re alive every night, it’s like every morning you die all over again. There’s been a lot of changes necessitated by your death. I hope you’re ok with how I’ve done things. I’m doing the best I can to take care of everybody & keep it together.

I had to move myself, & had to rehome 3 of the cats. I got Miss Pooky & Kobie adopted together by a nice lady & her daughter. They’re cat ladies like us & they love their cats & spoil them rotten. They even use the same vet as us. Surprisingly Miss Pooky adjusted right away. It took Kobie a little while longer, but since she still had Miss Pooky & since they are both very loved by the nice lady, she didn’t take too long to settle in. Broccoli is still at Clay County Animal Shelter, but I talked to the people today about her while I was at PetSmart, and they all love her so much. They say she’s spoiled & gets lots of love and pets and cuddles, and they’re going to find just the right home for her. But in the meantime she gets lots of love and affection. The three people at PetSmart from Clay County knew all about her so she’s making an impression with her affectionate nature. They commented that they got her “pre-spoiled”. One of the ladies talked about her beautiful eyes. So it’s comforting at least to know that those three are very loved, even if it’s no longer me doing the loving. We all miss them all very much.

Of the other 3, Freddiecat has not handled the move well. The people upstairs make an unbelievable amount of noise, stomping around. Are they holding giant’s wrestling matches or an elephants bowling league up there? They actually knocked a picture off my wall Thanksgiving Day, with the vibrations and shaking from their pounding their floor. I wouldn’t be surprised if  sometime chunks of ceiling fell down upon me because of them. (They also toss their cigarette butts and food waste everywhere, so that the areas around my front & back doors would resemble a landfill if I didn’t constantly pick up their garbage & put it in the dumpster. Awful low-class crude people. Ew.)

Anyway, the noise has caused problems for Freddiecat, making him very nervous. He hides under the bed. Then he started sometimes having diarrhea. But not every day. And then the diarrhea was less, and he started vomiting. But not every day. Most of his incidents would happen shortly after especially noisy times from the trash upstairs. I tried various types of gentle & sensitive systems foods. Probiotics. Prebiotics. Took him to the vet. The vet prescribed a pheromone diffuser to help relax him. That has helped. He prescribed anti-emetics. They helped some. I got some special bowls so they won’t gulp down their food & then immediately puke it back up. (Because he still has an appetite. Often after he vomits, after a few minutes he’s eating again.) Finally the vet put him on antidepressants. That has been the most successful so far. So the people upstairs are so awful that I hafta give My CAT antidepressants. Shitty low class trash!

Pickleson is fine. Outgoing and curious as always. Calm and loyal and mellow. Caprica has also dealt with everything pretty well. The frog looks skinnier than it did before. Maybe the water’s different. It smells fishier to me. Once it was cut off because of a cave collapse near the processing plant. IDK.

I miss you very much. It still doesn’t feel like you’re dead. It still feels like you’re still on your way home & I can’t wait to tell you this or that interesting tidbit of information. And every night you’re alive again when I sleep.

I may hafta have surgery. Austin says he’ll take care of the cats for me while I’m in the hospital. I do think about the possibility, however remote, that I might die during or shortly after. That I might follow wherever you go. In reality I don’t believe in God or reincarnation or any afterlife. I believe that the body is flesh that is repurposed when the heart stops, the lungs stop, the brain stops. The meat is transformed, either by rotting, being eaten, or being used in some other way, & the person that used to be there is no longer attached. Where does that person go? Or, where did that person come from in the first place? IDK.

The idea of meeting up with Smacky is very tempting, tantalizing. But I believe I too will cease to exist. Like a painting destroyed by fire, you might have a photo, but mostly what you have is the memory of that painting. & when you die even the memory is gone with you.

I’m ok with ceasing to exist. It means no more worry, no more fear, no more coveting. True nirvana, in the classic sense. Disillusion of self.

But in the meantime, you, Smacky, are almost right next to me every day. It just doesn’t feel like you’re dead. & I’m ok with that too.

Stardate -305372.48 Still the neighbours from Hell

I am going to tell what has been immediately going on today. I would ask you to please not judge me too harshly, because I know I should do more, but I am afraid to. This morning the man next door started hitting one (at least one, I couldn’t see too clearly) of the latest litter of pit bull puppies. I could hear the blows and the puppy’s subsequent cries. (I was in my backyard at the time, feeding the cat colony, & he was in his backyard with his dogs. I believe at this time they have seven pit bulls. 3 adults and 4 puppies.) I have heard sounds of puppies whining or howling coming from their backyard or even from inside their house (those dogs are very loud), and there have been several instances of the dogs fighting. The dog Boots eventually killed the dog Chops. Both were adult unaltered male pit bulls. I have seen several injured puppies. & both I and several other neighbors have called Animal Control on them. The only effect calling Animal Control ever has is afterwards that crazy bitch threatened both Smacky, me, & the community cats with physical violence. So AC is pretty useless.

But before today I’ve never witnessed the man intentionally hurting any of the dogs. His son has shot one of the dogs several times with a pellet gun, when it was attacking the little girl, but after that the kids pretty much don’t go back there with the dogs much.

Anyway, the man was hitting the pit bull puppy/ies. & he was lecturing them, I guess as a form of discipline. Never mind that dogs don’t speak English. (I couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying.) But if I reported him to anybody, he would deny it, the cops or AC would do nothing & leave, & not only would he continue hitting the dogs at his whim, but then me & the cats would be potential targets as well.

After the last confrontation, they have pretty much left me & the cats alone. But that woman is a psychopath. She threatened to catch & hurt the cats, ” one by one” as she put it.

If I didn’t have the cats to worry about, I’d have gone over there & beaten the shit out of that scumbag, consequences be damned. I don’t care whether I get hurt. But I hafta do what’s best for the cats.

So the rest of the day today, from time to time I could hear the puppies yelping from their backyard, as if he were back there hitting them again. I don’t know WTF is wrong with that family but there is some serious shit going on over there. & I’m afraid to call anybody, because I (& whatever poor kitty cat has the bad luck to cross their path) would hafta deal with the fallout after the cops or AC left. After they came by, reminded those assholes that they could always turn their anger against me, & left.

I wish I could do something to help those poor dogs. I wish somebody would do something to help the dogs & cats around here. And the people. This neighborhood is turning into a ghetto of despair.

#Crochet Photos 3

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Stardate -306566.66 So Today I Went To A Food Bank For Pet Food…

Sunday morning my neighbor Megan’s dog Shinzi got out.   They found her within a half an hour back in their own yard, but by that time she looked like she was having a seizure.    Megan came to my door crying, and I went back to her house with her.    There were several people there trying to help.    We tried to figure out what Shinzi could have gotten into while Megan called the vet.   Emergency vets on Sunday are expensive.    And they had to wait for him to get out of church.    Between her family there they managed to scrounge up the $200 it would take just to get their dog in the door.   They held Shinzi’s head in their laps and tried to cool her down.   When it was time Megan loaded her up and took her.   The vet diagnosed Shinzi with a heat stroke and seemed to think with treatment she would be fine.   Shinzi had had a heat stroke once before, when she was a puppy.   Vet techs went to check on her and The other animals there every 2 hours over the weekend and overnight.   They gave Shinzi IV fluids and medications.   But she died around 3am Monday morning.   The vet was puzzled and tested her blood for various poisons but found nothing.   Megan is very puzzled as well.   Shinzi got so sick so fast.   She even wondered if she could have gotten into some neighbor’s illegal drug stash.   Megan still owes this vet about $500, which she will pay out.

So today was the day we had already planned to go to the Pet Food Bank.   It’s on the other side of town, and the way to get there is convoluted – takes you back and forth across railroad tracks on sparcely populated back roads that I’m very unfamiliar with.   I don’t think I could drive there myself.   With my medical conditions Smacky did almost all the driving.    I drive now because I don’t have any other choice, but there is a limit to how much risk I’m willing to expose myself or even total strangers.   So Megan drives us to the Pet Food Bank.   Like the human food bank, you can only go there once a month.   We dropped her daughter off first at her mother’s house.   Her daughter, who must be about 5, said to her mother “Hey don’t judge me!”  in response to some question or another.   Just out of the blue.   How funny!   Megan said she had no idea where she might have heard such a thing.   After dropping her off, Megan told me how her daughter said to her yesterday that she had prayed to God about Shinzi.  And that God told her that he would give Shinzi back to them, but she wouldn’t look the same.   Wow!   Out of the mouths of babes!

The Pets Food Bank.  How to describe it….Hell for cats?   They run a clinic there giving basic animal care- vaccinations, microchipping, nail care, spaying and neutering.   Not really sure what all else they do.  They don’t treat sick or injured animals.   To get food, you go in & a very old woman asks you to fill out a form.   She asks your name and if you’ve ever been there before, but we’ve gone 3 times and although she recognizes us, they never seem to have our names in their files.   Kinda makes you feel uneasy about filling out those forms.  Where the hell does your information end up???   Then you go sit down.   The room is maybe about the size of a whole Walgreens pharmacy building.   It is loud, echo-y, & full of barking dogs.   For someone on the Autism spectrum, or, I’m guessing, any cats, that room is torture.    I cannot express to you how much I hate going to the Pets Food Bank.    Hardly anybody brings cats there.    I can’t imagine hating your cat enough to bring it there.    But they do spaying and neutering for free for stray cats, so that’s where Charles brings any cats he catches.   And they get their shots as well.  

Today there was an elderly woman sitting behind us with a large elderly dog.   I pet the dog to calm myself, took slow deep breaths, and waited.    We probably only waited about 20 minutes when they brought out the food we were allotted:  4 pounds of hard cat food each, and 10 pounds of hard dog food for Megan’s other dogs.  Then we left.

On the way home Megan’s car died.   We managed to get it into the parking lot of a liquor store.   Still on the crappy side of town.   About 11am and 90°F.   Megan called her friend Tim, who happens to work at an auto place not too far away.   He came shortly, tried to jump the car several times, and ended up hooking it to his truck with a pully thing, and towed us back to Megan’s house.   If you have never been in a powerless car being towed on the freeway by a rope, I Do Not recommend it!   Visions of careening over the exit ramp railings danced in my head. 😨    But we did make it to Megan’s house safely.   And I carried my cat food bounty home 2 blocks away, dazed and relieved to be back.

Until next month.

Stardate -306536.3 What it’s like going to a Food Bank in Texas

As I was trying to remember a list of the most interesting people I saw at the Food Bank today I realized it had the effect of dehumanizing them, turning a crowd of people just trying to survive into a kind of freak show.   One which included me.   And I’m pretty sure that all these Conservatives who take pride in their self reliance would read this list and think of it as a shameful club to which they would never belong.   And there I was, just another face in the crowd, me, there, the woman with Aspergers, and skin so pale it might be classified as a shade of blue.  

So, here is the list:

– A boy of about 10 with a monobrow, who kept kicking up the dirt into huge clouds that blew back on the people in line behind him.   His father ignored this and concentrated on his phone. 

– An intellectually disabled woman who came with her elderly parents and had 2 young children of her own.

– A Hell’s Angel (identifying vest)

– A filthy couple in full camouflage.   They looked like they’d been out killing to supplement the donated food.   They came with a car load of kids.

– A woman/girl who looked very much like Honey Boo Boo.

There was a painfully thin man last month.   I looked for him today but didn’t see him.   Several of the people there today were there last month.   I would say that most of the food recipients were white, while most of the volunteers were black.   The food boxes are taken to your car by teenage boys, one of whom was wearing an ankle GPS monitor. 

 It got very hot out quite early, and after waiting in line outside for about 30 minutes I started to really feel like I was going to pass out.   I started hanging on the wall a little bit,  but luckily just then the line got moving and I was able to get inside and sit down with a cup of water.    We are given numbers and go in a church’s gymnasium to sit at long tables and wait.   The noise of so many people walking around talking…cacophony!   When your number is finally called you go to another table where they take your information.    (The city keeps track of who goes to which food bank when.  You can only go to one a month.)   The people at that table then take your number card and give you a card which you then take to the door leading out.   There you give that card to someone and one of the teen boys brings a box of food to your car.   I have been going for 3 months now and have learned that you never know what you’re going to get, but it tends to be mismatched food and odds and ends.  You can see it being loaded into the back of the church from a Wal-Mart truck when you’re waiting in line outside.

This month:

– A jar of peanut butter (Good stuff.  Will buy bread & jelly)

– A bag of fresh green beans from the farmer’s market 

– 2 fresh cabbage heads

– A large red onion

– A can of beef stew; a can of split pea soup; a can of black eyed peas; a can of mixed fruit

– A small bag of potatoes

– A small bag of rice

– A small bag of dried oats

– About 6 donut holes

– A box of honey Graham crackers

– A 16oz box of low fat milk

– two 6-packs of raison snack boxes

– A bag of frozen blueberries (They give these every month.  I’m still working on eating last month’s bag.)

– A whole frozen chicken (which I cannot cook, and neither can several of the other people I spoke to)

So I can use this food to stretch out other food that I buy.   I can eat noodles, cook the rice, etc.  Now I will be eating cabbage and green beans for a while I guess.   Food for poor people is rarely about enjoyment, I have discovered.   It is about turning what food you have into a meal while buying as little extra as possible.   Many of the people there were obese.    I have been counting “junk food” as an unnecessary luxury, but I have spent money on fresh fruit & veg.   I buy at the very least bananas and lettuce and tomatoes almost every time I go to the store.    But I can’t keep losing weight like this forever.    I’m going to need to learn to strike a balance.   So far  though…I look at Doritos and think “That’s $4 I could spend on cat food.”    And someday I’ll want to buy a new scratchy cardboard thing for them.   Or some new nip. 

So anyway, that’s what it’s like going to a Texas food bank.  If you go, go early.  I was there 45 minutes early this time, and there were 70 people in line ahead of me.  

Stardate -306523.17

Not much going on.   The creepy gropey guy came back a few days ago.   I told him through the door that I didn’t want to go out with him and he went away peaceably.    He went back to his shack and worked under the hood of his truck.   No violence; no shouting; no dead cats on my lawn the next day.    A very pleasant surprise. 

The people next door continue to leave me alone and I continue to leave them alone.   I even heard the kids shout at each other “You’re in the neighbor’s yard!”   So they’ve told their kids to leave me alone.   Good.   I checked and school starts August 21.  

The climax of the illegal fireworks here actually seemed to have been on July 4th, even though it was a somewhat rainy night.   A few BOOMs on the following nights, nothing at all like that one year when it really did sound like we were being bombed.   So another pleasant surprise.

So far this summer there have been a lot less loose pit bulls running around.   The people behind me have built a kennel inside their fence so their dogs hardly ever get loose anymore.    And so far pit bulls next door have only gotten loose a couple of times, by climbing up on their house and jumping over the fence.   The people are still somewhat careless with the puppies, which they often let loose in their front yard unsupervised for bathroom breaks.   (Even they know that the adult  pit bulls in their backyard  are too dangerous to be trusted near their own puppies.   To the people, pit bull puppies = $$.  The only person who ever goes in that backyard with the adult dogs is the man.)  

The cats inside seem fine.   I have treated Miss Pooky’s ears with her ointment a few times, and sometimes put the kitty probiotics in all their food.   I am trying to make sure they each get enough attention.    Pickleson seems to be getting the least somehow.   He rarely comes for purries and is finicky about being petted.   He’s still pouting about me cutting out the Fancy Feast Appetizers, but we were spending $90 A month just on those!    Smacky used to say that Broccoli woke her up for pets several times a night.    She only does it to me once a night, but when I get up in the middle of the night to pee she comes for pets then.    Miss Pooky now comes to my bed at night and usually cuddles up with Kobie.   Caprica and Freddiecat both don’t like to cuddle as much during the hot summer months anyway, but I try to make sure they get lots of kisses and pets just the same.   I try to carry each one to my bed before I sit down to read.   They won’t stay, but they know that they are wanted.

The cats outside have dwindled in number down to about 10.   I hope the TNR people are continuing to feed them, but lately I haven’t seen any telltale crumbs of hard cat food in my driveway.   I worry about them.   Somebody has been leaving increasingly watery patches of diarrhea in the yard, and 2 of the cats are getting really skinny – skinny like the orange last year who I’m pretty sure finally died.   I worry that whatever it is will spread to everybody.   I use GermX and Lysol on my hands and feet the moment I get in the door, and then go wash off in the bathroom.   So far I’ve been able to keep the inside cats healthy and protected, fed and happy enough.  That in itself is way more than I ever would’ve expected.    I know it’s not a huge accomplishment or anything, but so far I’ve kept the cats going for more than 3 months.   Whenever Smacky and I did talk about the inevitable death of one of us, I always figured that if I was the survivor we’d all be homeless and I’d commit suicide within a month.   I didn’t want to be the survivor and I still wish I wasn’t, but so far I have kept the cats fed, loved, and taken care of.   The financial and housing crunches are both still coming, though.  So the “within a month” timeline was inaccurate, but I predict the end result will be the same.

I am currently reading David Sedaris’s book of his 1980-2002 diary entries entitled “Theft By Finding”.   You would think that reading someone else’s journal would be tedious, but he has done an expert editing job, and it is surprisingly good.   Like his essays and stories, but with less concentrated attention given to each episode.  Like a painter’s sketch on a cocktail napkin that is later transformed into a masterpiece of art.   

Last week I had a mini seizure on the way to Home Depot and Wal-Mart.  I didn’t hit anything or wreck the car.  Just a brief loss of consciousness and when I became aware again I was lost.  I don’t know if I ran any red lights or not.  Guess I’ll find out if a ticket comes in the mail.  If it does, probably cheaper to just pay it than to argue.  Smacky did almost all the driving and now she’s gone.  Public transportation here is practically nonexistent.  

Later at Home Depot there was a man with a red beard in a kilt.

Stardate -306506.73 Bombs Bursting In Air

The crazy groper man never came back.   Honestly don’t know WTF was up with him.   I’m just grateful not to have seen him since.   If he comes to the door I’ve been told not to answer it & if he won’t leave to call the police.   I was pretty shaken up & worried that any minute he might come back and…IDK start pounding on the door or something.   But he never came back.   For a while I was afraid to even go outside, afraid he would see me from his shack and come back.   I even started avoiding going past his place in my car.   But he never did return.   And I hope he never does.    Demented nasty old man.

Ever since the day Texa-tucky threatened me I have barely seen the people next door.   Maybe the cop finally told them to leave me the fuck alone.   IDK.   One time the kid started banging his aluminium bat on the sidewalk in front of my house, but his father was out there & made him stop right away.   Good.   If they don’t bother me, I have no interest in bothering them.

Their new crop of pit bull puppies must be about ready to sell, because they’ve started crating them up, and they whine & howl something awful.   This is at least their 4th litter since they moved in last August.   Maybe their 5th. 

Last week at 7am one morning there was a disturbance there that ended with some guy shouting “You better get the money!  You don’t know who the fuck you’re dealing with!”   🎶It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.  Such a beautiful day in the neighborhood.  Would you be my…could you be my…won’t you be my neighbor?🎶  NOT!!!

My weight has gone down.   My doctor says my blood tests have shown positive for Lupus.    I am really not trying to lose weight.   So far it’s not too too low.    The food bank gives such uneven foods.   Peanut butter but no bread.   Or those gawd awful fried chicken patties, which I did finally manage to eat all of but one.   It took me 2 months.   Packages of frozen blueberries – every month.    I’m still working on last month’s package.    These tasteless mushy canned carrots.   Bags of potatoes.   I am really tired of potatoes.    And the people at the food bank… Wow.    Huge fat people who can barely walk, emaciated people who are probably dying, people with prison and gang tattoos, people of every race, children running everywhere, stinky people, loud people….it’s a circus.    I don’t like going, but it is only once a month, so instead of giving myself a headache trying to read I just watch the people. 

I have been getting a lot of headaches lately.   Some of it is from my eyes.   I just have so much trouble reading lately.   Filling out forms.   Driving.    On the way to the food bank last month the sunlight was reflecting off of the license plate of the car in front of me right into my eyes.   I tried to block it with my right hand but I could see 2 right hands.   Didn’t exactly help my head.   I have taken to reading large print books, adjusting the font size on e-readers, audio books, or using this awkward plastic thing that magnifies but also tends to blur the words, so I can’t use it much or it gives me a headache.   Filling out forms is just so hard that I tend to put it off.    I need to fill out a form for Smacky’s job at Wal-Mart but …well… 

So far the local Texas social services have not been particularly helpful.   A list of food banks – you can only go to one a month.   A domestic abuse hotline.   A few places to get eyeglass prescriptions who won’t accept my insurance.    A place to get eyeglasses that no longer exists.   When I ask about low-income housing or possible help with moving they all seem to know just as much as I do – nothing.   When Smacky worked at the prison she used to help get the inmates ready for release.   She had these pamphlets of addresses and “help” so they could start trying to set stuff up for themselves before they got out.   The pamphlets were mostly charities that went out of business a decade ago and disconnected phone numbers to nonexistent social services.   It was a joke.   The inmates were dropped off at the bus station downtown with the clothes they wore in (which might be 30 years old and no longer fit) and $30.   Sometimes a card for an appointment a month away to which they had no transportation.   

The inside cats are all doing okay.   I know they miss Smacky just as much as I do.   I try to give them lots of attention.   If I move in to some kind of low-income housing I don’t think I can get away with keeping all 6.  So to protect them I need to stretch out my income & stay here as long as I can.

The outside cats have dwindled in number.   They’ve hopefully moved on to someplace where the food is more plentiful.   The TNR people still feed them periodically & Charles has given me Meow Mix for them.   I still see Keiko & Simon & Spock’s mum almost every day.   Good.

Tonight is July 4th.  Last night the people on the corner across the street did a test run of their fireworks for tonight.   So I know tonight is gonna be LOUD .   They were quiet for Cinco de Mayo so I thought maybe this was gonna be a quiet year for them.   No such luck.   If yesterday was any indication, in about an hour it will sound like we’re in a war zone here.   I can’t call the police on them.   I’ve done that before.   The police don’t do a damn thing, even when flammable particles of illegal fireworks from across the street were raining down on our roof,  during a drought, in the middle of a burn ban.   But the next morning there was a dead cat in my driveway.

   The cops around here are abso-fucking-lutely useless.   No idea how Texas fills up its prisons.   Conservatives are supposed to love that “Broken Window Theory” of policing.   In this neighborhood about 1 in 5 houses is either boarded up, for rent, or an empty  lot where a drug lab burned down.   You’d think the cops’d be swarming this neighborhood because so much of the work is already done for them.   They’d just hafta find some place to lay low and wait and watch.   Easy arrests.   But the local jail is a constant problem, needing repairs, moldy, overcrowded.   So they’re talking about building a new one but I don’t know where they’re gonna get the money because the recent town council meeting said more cuts to local services already, and that’s before the psycho Republicans take their butcher’s knife to the federal budget.  Locally and nationally the are basically replacing social services with prisons and jails.   

In closing, celebrating the birth of a nation by making a bunch of traumatic scary noise about sums up 2017 so far.  Traumatic and scary.  And, thanks to this shitty neighborhood, loud. 💥💥💥