Brrrr...

Feeling compelled to give.

I read this story a few days ago in the Washington Post online edition. (And the link here isn't to the original site, but it's the same story.) I don't remember how I came across it--just wasting time online, as usual, I suppose. But after reading about Adwai Mulual and her situation, I couldn't not do something. I mailed out a check that will go a little ways towards diapers, wipes, or whatever else the babies need.

Please, if you are able, consider helping her too. Here's a website with the address to send donations. I'm sure that every little bit will be appreciated.

This is really something I never do, but her story touched me. My first few weeks of being a parent were so incredibly difficult that my heart goes out to this woman who is not only adjusting to first-time parenthood, but doing so in a foreign country, without her husband, with very limited financial resources...and she's got not one, but FIVE newborns to take care of.

I can't even begin to imagine what she must be going through.

I think what most compelled me to try to help were the nasty comments after the article in the original posting. There was a long section dedicated to comments, and I skimmed down through them, thinking that people would be saying, "How can I help?" and "Where can I send donations?" But I saw none of that. Instead, commenters were making cruel remarks about how their precious tax money shouldn't be going to this woman because she isn't a citizen of the U.S., and she probably took fertility drugs to get this many babies in the first place, and what the hell is she doing coming over here to leech off us... It went on and on. Many of the comments were racist, and all were heartless.

I'm not naive enough to think that I can save the world, or that the U.S. should try as a matter of policy to save the world. But I think it is important to show compassion for our fellow human beings, and to give to those who need our help when we find ourselves able. I don't care if Adwai Mulual is Sudanese. I don't care if she took fertility drugs. I don't care if she intentionally came to the U.S. seeking our medical care or "a handout." She is a human being. Her babies are human beings. I am a human being. And that is all I need to know.

Please send a donation if you can. Even $20 can buy a package of diapers. That's cheaper than a night at the movies. So stay home one night instead, and reach out your hand to a stranger in need.

That is all.

My cat's an asshole. No, really. My cat's an asshole.

I stupidly left a (confession: already mostly eaten) opened pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream out on the counter while I went and did something with Mog. I don't remember what--got him a refill on his juice? answered his question about what's dat on tv? (me: it's a whale; eliot: oh, a pish! me: sorta, only bigger).

And when I came back for it, not five minutes later, Mumford was up on the counter, bent over my ice cream, my precious Ben & Jerry's Cake Batter ice cream, licking it out of the carton. He looked up at me like, "Yeah, I'm eatin' your ice cream. So what, fucker?! Whatchya gonna do about it?"

I snarled and tried to grab him but he was too fast for me. I looked down at the thoroughly licked ice cream. I won't lie, I totally thought about eating it anyway. (Wouldn't be the first time I've eaten after a cat, right, Libby, you rotten brat??!!) But instead, I dumped it in the trashcan and started mentally plotting feline murder. And I'm not talking euthanasia here. I'm not talking take the dear thing to the vet and have him gently put down. I'm talking straight up cat murder. Brutal, vengeful cat murder. And that dignified Viking funeral I had planned for him is out, too. He'll be lucky if I don't just throw his sorry carcass to the coyotes.

Hairball puker. Claw scratcher. Ben & Jerry's licker. Dastardly Ben & Jerry's licker. That cat obviously has no soul.

It's out!

The February/March issue of Scrapbooks, Etc.

Go grab one. Or two! My layout is on page ten. :)

Today, I...

am eating a Snickers Creme Heart.

am pouring wistfully through a seed catalog, dreaming of a garden with peas, okra, eggplant, and other lovelies.

am teaching Maya Angelou's "My Arkansas."

am listening to the Weepies.



am yearning for spring.

A few of my etsy favorites at the moment.

Where were you when...???

When my children and grandchildren ask if I remember where I was on the historic day that saw the swearing in of the first black president of the United States of America, I will be able to say, "Yes!"

I waited anxiously all morning, watching streaming video from CNN.comLive. I saw the crowds on the mall, heard the announcement of the children, the first ladies, the president and vice president as they entered. I heard the semi-botched oath and Aretha Franklin. I watched it all in a suspended state of joy and hope, with tears in my eyes...

And then I went and got a pap smear.