My Little Hissy-Fit

Hissy - 09.21.1998 - 12.25.2015

"Perhaps they are not stars in the sky, but rather openings where our loved ones shine down to let us know they are happy."

-Eskimo Saying

How strange that the last blog I wrote was about Hissy.

Hissy hugging up his brother Maurie.

On December 23,  Hissy stopped eating his special wet food. In the day that followed, he was still drinking water, however major weight loss occurred and let me tell you he was already thin. I did everything I could think of to get him to eat, to no avail.

Christmas Eve night somehow Hissy got into bed with me (he was very weak), climbed under the covers and slept next to me most of the night. When he jumped off the bed he was so weak, that he fell sideways onto the floor like a scarecrow less his stuffing. My heart at that moment was ripped from my chest. I knew I must do something, but was at a loss as to what...it was Christmas day and the vet wasn't open.

I was able to get him to drink some water multiple times. So I posted this question on FaceBook: "Does anyone know a vet that may have someone there today? Hopefully somewhere uptown or mid-city? It is an mental health and furkid emergency."

I went down the hall for a couple hours and when I returned Hissy had left the couch and was hiding and had urinated on the floor and was lying in it. I cleaned him up, but was struck with the realization that something far worse than I could imagine was occurring. Looking on FaceBook I saw many options from my friends. However, I knew I could not drive him anywhere by myself, I was loosing my mind with grief.  Maurie...his sweet brother was by his side the entire time, cleaning and cuddling him.

My friends, Linda, Stephanie, and Bob, came to my rescue and drove me where I needed to go, Southeast Veterinary Clinic. The people at the veterinary clinic were lovely and comforting.  After they placed the port in Hissy's paw and handed him back to me, he hissed at me for the last time, weakly, but a hiss none the less. He always had to get the last word in. I held him in my arms cuddling him like the sweet baby he is, as the drugs were administered. My sweet 16-year-old boy passed into the sweet forever lying in my arms.

My little gray boy taught me many things, but this stands above the rest:

Life can change with the snap of your fingers.  You have no control...  Live the love you feel.

Rest in peace, my beautiful Hissy (Hissy-fit, Hissy-boy, Chunk-of-Monkey, Monkey-man, Monk).

Is it Me or is it Hissy?

Hissy and Maurie

Recently, Hissy my feline gray ball of fur has been getting louder and louder.  It's a constant LOUD nightmare.  I have tried everything to discourage this behavior, as being hearing impaired myself - I am very sensitive to loud noise. 

Randomly, while at work I looked at the flyer for the Cat Daddy's new book and one of the things listed was that a cats hearing is much more sensitive than humans and dogs.  I found myself saying aloud,  "If that's true, how can Hissy stand to be around himself he's soo loud."  

At that very moment a light bulb should have popped on above my head.  I actually replied to myself..."Oh my god, Hissy can't hear himself.  He's deaf."

So when I arrived home that evening, I did a hearing test with my 16-year-old furkid.  He was laying on the bed and I put my hand behind his head and snapped my fingers...he did not move, nor did his ears.  My immediate thought was, oh no he'll never hear music again.  Oh that's right...that's my personal hearing fear.  Though Hissy does like when I sing to him, I make up songs with his name in them.  Nothing anyone else would want to hear.

Hissy

Now, when I'm home, he wants me to sit on couch with him constantly and do nothing else.   Or else he MEOWs  constantly at the top of his lungs.  Makes it quite difficult to clean the apartment.  No quite difficult is absolutely incorrect...it makes it impossible.

He knows "No" in sign language...but I need to make sure he's looking at me when I sign and sadly this often stops that loud voice of his, for half a second.

He is otherwise quite normal, eats, drinks, sleeps, uses the litter box - but he is 16-years-old and I suppose it's age.  I'm going to try an ear plug to clean the apartment ( I only need one, only one ear works).

Maurie

His brother (yes, really), Maurie, has recently decided he'll live under the bed.  This was after months of scratching himself obsessively until he bleeds (no fleas or disease, just OCD).  He'll answer me if I call him, but he will not come out (except to eat, drink, use the litter box).

So I am living with two curmudgeonly old men who may drive me insane, as I live on pins and needles daily because of their age.

For Mary Fitzpatrick

When David Spielman came into the book shop and told me Mary Fitzpatrick passed, I shouted at him in disbelief.  Later on Facebook I posted the story Chris Waddington wrote for NOLA.com with the sentence: I'm devastated and without words.  Without words was not exactly accurate...a million words were flying through my mind and I could grab not a one, to make sense of Mary's passing.  I have been thinking of her since.  I have know Mary since moving to New Orleans in 1998.  I have sold her books, chosen books as her gifts, written books with her, and sold her books at events.  

I recall Mary coming into the book shop when she had decided to publish her first book, New Orleans: Life in An Epic City.  She consulted with Deb and I on what size, price and various other details.  I have photographs in the first two books and a haiku along with one of my photographs in the New Orleans' Favorite Shotguns book.  As well as the pleasure of generating the idea for the shotgun book.  

Unfortunately, I do not have anything in the last book that Mary did and it wasn't from her lack of trying to entice me.  But I was stuck on photographs of parks as my favorite place and Mary said she had more park photographs than she could use.

Today while thinking of Mary, I read her new book, New Orleans: Days and Nights in the Dreamy City.  And came up with a short essay for her. Once someone asked what two things I would recommend someone do in New Orleans, if I could only choose two...mine: ride the St. Charles Streetcar and go to Preservation Hall. The streetcar did make it into the book, however Preservation Hall did not.  I had the most wonderful experience imaginable at Preservation Hall and here it is...

Mary, this is for you.

Copyright Sherry Justus

A couple good friends, Christiana and Joe,  were moving from New Orleans, they wanted to do a number of things prior to moving and one was to go to Preservation Hall.  So we went and waited outside for sometime, only hearing the magnificent music. But eventually making it inside, we stood in the back for the end of the first set.  Between sets many people left, so we were able to sit down.  In the front of the room, right in front of the stage about 10 kids, 12 or 13-years-old,  were sitting on the floor with a couple adults.  Between sets they didn't leave, but patiently waited for the next set to start.

When the band came back on stage, the band leader announced he'd heard there was an an incredible pianist in the audience and he'd like to invite him up to play with the band.  He then announced the name of one of the young teenagers sitting on the floor.  Apparently they were a band on holiday from I believe, Massachusetts.  The young man went onstage and played with the Preservation Hall Jazz Band and received a rousing round of applause.  He was an incredible pianist and I'm sure, to this day this is one of the unforgettable highlights of his young life. It is definitely a highlight of mine.  I tear up in happiness remembering the excitement that filled the hall.

Hoarder...You?

 

 

Yes, I admit it...I'm a hoarder, a book hoarder. 

If I walked down the street and saw a book on the sidewalk, I'd pick it up.  Books constantly leave my apartment, but they also constantly come into my apartment, as well.  Working in a book shop, book hoarding is a constant issue.

I donated 103 books recently and it's barely noticeable in my apartment.  I tried using the the theory, one in - one out. That worked for about 5 minutes.

I even have people giving me books!  Do they think I don't have enough?  And it's not just books containing words...I'm a sucker for pretty blank books/journals as well.

I even go to used book shops and look at books.  Admittedly, I'm always on the lookout for a beautiful edition of a book I love.  Or a beautifully illustrated children's book.   If I ever see a copy of Birthday Moon by Lois Duncan, I will always snatch it up.  It's a beautiful present for young and old alike.  Wow, just saw how  much a first edition costs... and I just gave one away, damn.

 

I will be selling some soon...1st editions I bought and saved for just this purpose, Mr. New Orleans, Big Fish, Lemony Snicket, etc.  Hoping to find someone with a book hoarding obsession like mine...that will pay good money for first editions of some great books.

But in the meantime, I keep bringing them in and taking them out out the book storage unit that is my apartment.  If you need something to read...let me know.

What's Your Favorite Book?



What's your favorite book?  Do you love suspense, serial killers, angels, vampires, distopian, biography, non-fiction, fables, self-help?

Have you ever read a book more than once? At different times/ages in your life? Why?

Isn't it amazing what different parts stick with you, depending on how old you were when you read it?  I've read To Kill a Mockingbird no less than 10 times and could read it again today and get something different out of it.

Every book means something different to every reader, even when upon re-reading.

A number of years ago, when I was part of the corporate craziness, I took a team building class.  In one of the group exercises, we were given one word: home.  For five minutes the eight people at the table and each of us had to write down every word that came to mind.  We then compared our word lists and counted how many all eight of had in common.

Three, yes three.  This dumbfounded me.  Each person's list had at least 20 words or more.  So in a book full of words, the chances of everyone  getting the exact same feeling, idea, story - are slim to none.  We all apply our personal filters subconsciously to everything we do.  If, as part of you filters, you see family as a broken home, you could view a story about the perfect family with suspicion or wonder.  So reading a book at multiple times in your life, will mean different things to you.  You are reading it with different levels of life experience and new filters.

Now the question is...have you read something as a child and loved it, but reread it as an adult and didn't care for it?  I can't personally name a book I have this relationship with.  But I'd love to know of someone that does, what book, and why?

I have to say that if  start reading a book and I don't enjoy it...I put it down.  Life's too short to read something you're not enjoying.

I've asked a number of people what books they've reread:
(There are undoubtedly so many more that aren't listed, but it's the start of a new reading or rereading

list...)  *The most listed book from everyone I discussed this with...To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee!  So if you haven't read it yet, start today!

1984 by George Orwell
A Confederacy of Dunces by John  Kennedy Toole
Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway
Anne Frank: The Diary of a young Girl by Anne Frank
Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery
A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving
The Awakening by Kate Chopin
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'engle
Beachcombing for Shipwrecked God by Joe Coomer
Blue Highways by William Least Heat-Moon
Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger
Chita by Lafcadio Hearn
Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis
The Clockwork Century series by Cherie Priest
Coming Home by Rosamunde Pilcher
All Diana Gabaldon, except the newest one
Dune by Frank Herbert
Edgar Allen Poe stories
Far Pavilions...both by M. M. Kaye
The Godfather by Mario Puzo
Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
All Harry Potter by J. K. Rowling
The Help by Kathryn Stockett
I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith
All Jane Austen
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
All J. R. Tolkien
Kate Chopin's short stories
Kindred by Octavia Butler
Little Princess by Francis Burnett
The Lost Continent by Bill Bryson
Mercy of Thin Air by Ronlyn Domingue
The Mirage by Matt Ruff
The Mistress of the Art of Death series by Ariana Franklin
All Nancy Drew
My Reading Life by Pat Conroy
On the Road by Jack Kerouac
On Writing by Stephen King
Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson
The Outside Cat by Jane Thayer and Feodor Rojankovsky
Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster
All Raymond Chandler
Restoration by John Ed Bradley
Secret Garden by Francis Burnett
The Shell Seekers by Rosamunde Pilcher
Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse
Suttree by Cormac McCarthy
*To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
WarDay by Whitley Strieber
Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum
Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Golderg
Wuthering Heights  by Emily Bronte
Xenogenesis trilogy by Octavia Butler

 PS.spell check recommends Dust Pan in place of Distopian.

My Stove is on Fire...Let Me Run Next Door and See What I Should Do

I found out recently that few people know what to do in the event of a stove fire.  Even if your fire extinguisher is less than two feet away in a cupboard.  So here an I am letting y'all know what to do.

Here are some major don'ts:

• Never walk away from your stove if you are cooking on the cook-top.
• Never use water on a stove top fire.
• Never use flour on a stove top fire (it can explode).
• Never freak out and run next door when your stove is on fire to find out what you're supposed to do.

Do's:

• Always stay calm.
• Always have plenty of baking soda close at hand.
• Always have a fire extinguisher close at hand.
• Always have homeowner/rental insurance.

How to put out a stove-top fire:

• If you have a lid for the pot and you can put it on without burning yourself, do so.  Then turn off the burner.
• If you cannot safely put the lid on the pot...pour baking soda on the fire.
• If you do not have baking soda, use a fire extinguisher.  
• If you don't have either baking soda or a fire extinguisher, BUY THEM.

How to put out an oven fire:

• Turn off the oven.
• Do Not open the oven door (oxygen feeds fire) until fire is out.

How to put out an microwave oven fire:

• Turn off the microwave oven (this turns the fan off and stops feeding oxygen to the flames).
• Do Not open the microwave oven door until fire is out.

Haiku You....

Haiku originated in a Japan, a language where much can be said in few syllables.  Many people in the United States  have adopted Haiku as their poetry form.  Because English is much different language that Japanese (I personally took 2 years of Japanese lessons, when I worked for Electronic Data Systems (EDS, now part of Hewlett Packard), American Haiku generally cannot be held to the same syllable count.  
 
Enter Jack Kerouac...

“Then I’ll invent

      the American Haiku type:

      The simple rhyming triolet:–

Seventeen syllables?

No, as I say, American Pops:–

Simple 3-line poems”

                       -Jack Kerouac, Reading Notes 1965


"Experts on the subject have determined that a 17 onji (Japanese sound unit) haiku in Japanese should be about a 12 to 15 syllable poem in English."1 Two lines that lead you to a moment of awe. Possibly a moment of breathlessness...
 
Does that mean you should not write Haiku in 5-7-5?   No, many people are content to write in that format; however, I personally find it less stressful to write in the "one-breath" (Haiku, the length of one breath) style.

stealing

my breath--

his lips

                      -Amy Loewy 2004

 

Little gray squirrel

end of his season

Cat with a long gray tongue

                    -Amy Loewy 2004
 

 

    David Ruiz

exhausted

 

long night in the city of New Orleans

street lamp leans against a palm tree

 

                    -Amy Loewy 2003


 

 

Happy sound of tap shoes

raindrops dancing

on the sidewalk
                    -Amy Loewy 2003



Arm outstretched

to take the lead

cat dancing with a butterfly

 

                   -Amy Loewy 2003

Spring in the South

Bicycling in the early morn

pedaling through fudge

 

                    -Amy Loewy 2003

 

In a tiny shard of mirror...

applying makeup,

one eye at a time.

                  -Amy Loewy 2012


Whether traditional Japanese Haiku or it's American sibling...give it a try, it's addicting

1 Curtis Dunlap, An Introduction to Haiku &; Senryu for New Haiku &; Senryu Poets