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A Virtual Fence

If you want the answers to questions that are troubling you, you have to ask. Finally, this Friday afternoon, I made some telephone calls, asked questions, received answers, and am generally feeling better about the state of the world, and my place in it.

I didn't like that my blog had turned so negative. My writing was a reflection of all the turmoil boiling in my consciousness, and blogging is a good place to vent, but it isn't emotionally healthy to carry the hostility I had. Thursday afternoon, I drew a virtual fence to make things better. If you're familiar with bowling in the old days, when you would keep score with a paper and pencil, one would draw a line on the scoresheet after several frames of rotten scores. The theory was that you would break the run of bad luck on the other side of the fence, and then all the scores to be recorded on the new side of the fence line would be better. Yes, I know it's just silly superstition, but sometimes you need something to grab on to, or physically look at something, to know things are going to be better from that point on.

So yesterday afternoon, I drew a virtual fence in my life. Today, I did something proactive to make me feel refreshed, and new. I opened a box of Feria, "Brilliant Bordeaux," and became a redhead again. Last time I coloured my hair I opted for a brown that was close to what I think is my natural color. As it grew out, it did seem to be my true color, with a sprinkling of gray mixed in. However, since I've been coloring my hair some shade of red for 18 years, I didn't look right to myself in the mirror. When I went to the bother of putting on a full face of make-up, I looked wrong. That's enough to upset one's personal apple cart!

I like being a red head. My moody (bipolar) personality fits people's conceptions of how a red head behaves. My skin coloring goes well with the red, so I'm back to being a redhead again, and I feel more like myself. Aren't we girls funny about the games we play with the personal grooming technology was have in the Twenty-First Century?

To alleviate the anxiety I was feeling about "Nellie's" cremation, I picked up the phone and made a call to the animal clinic. I had gotten most of the extreme emotion out of my system by writing what ended up being a five page letter to the vet. That calmed me down enough to be able to talk about things without crying. I had assumed incorrectly from my own work experience. It's true what they say about when you assume--"it makes an ass out of you and me."

I talked to the vet assistant named Kelly, who had given me a big hug when I was crying about "Nellie's' being put to sleep last Saturday. She explained very patiently and kindly. They don't dispose of the animal's remains like we did at the clinic I worked at ten years ago. They send the bodies to a place called "All Paws go to Heaven." The place has an Internet site that explains their business, and they even offer private cremation and ceremonies.

Animals whose families don't want to retain remains are collectively cremated, and the ashes are scattered in a gazebo area on their state licensed property. So my kitty's body was returned to the earth like I wanted.

I may go to the place and visit and interview, because what they do is worthy of people's notice. "Nellie" may be gone, but a muse has returned in her place. God takes care of everything best in His own way.