with Lorelle and Brent VanFossen

WordPress Blog: Fighting Spammers

I’ve been doing some research and trying different things to make WordPress work for me as blogger software. I’m still having trouble trying to blog by email as it seems my server host may not have updated POP3 software. Buggers.

Dealing with the horrid spammers, I’ve set up the Discussion Options to include a filter to stop comments that include words commonly found in spams and in unwanted comments. There is a good list at http://www.macmanx.com/wordpress/bad.txt.

There is a good discussion about spammers on blogs and trying to stop the spammers on the WordPress forum at http://wordpress.org/support/3/14324.

There are also some plug-ins that are supposed to help stop the spammers. I’m still working with these but the ones I’ve found are:

From what I read, the amount of time wasted dealing with spammers on blogs is obscene. In one day I was hit by 155 spams in the comments. Ugh.

Part of the challenge of keeping up with the “behind the scenes” effort to prevent spam, I’m learning, is that spammers come up with new ideas and methods constantly, so as a blog host, I have to also research and come up with ways to stop them. This is something that really pisses me off.

So I keep looking for help and tips for dealing with WordPress, blogs, and online efforts and I’ll keep you informed as I find them.

Tel Aviv, Israel

Setting Up the Blog

After quite a bit of research, I decided to give WordPress a try for handling our blog. For the most part, the “5 minute installation” worked great but there were a few minor glitches in the process.

Almost immediately after posting the blog, but not any links from my web site pages, since I still had to tweak it to what I want, I had dozens of comments on my entries. I thought this was VERY odd. I checked, learning as I went, and these were all from the “same person”, a spammer representing various web sites that dealt with gambling and casinos in Texas. Creeps. A robot or spider driven spammer, I’m sure. One blog I posted attracted a comment within a few minutes of uploading. Amazing how insidious these jerks are.

Before I can even learn how to run the program, I’m battling spammers. I finally found the access panel under Options to create a filtered list that deletes all comments that include specific words in the content, email, or url. It’s a pretty nasty thing to do, but in one day I had 155 spams on my blog. And that is the first day.

Whatever happened to playing fair and nice?

I really want a system that puts the effort on the spammers and not on me to protect me from their crimes. Or set it up so I have to sign up on a list in order to be spammed. That’s the real ticket. Spammers have to use only that list and if they don’t, kill them. Make it tough. Chain them to a stake and take pictures of them and upload them to an entertainment oriented site where all can see the evil doers and throw virtual tomatoes and eggs at them. When someone knowing sets out to injure another, and the proof is in the written word from their own hands, make them pay graphically. We need some serious incentives in this world and locking people up or hiring the real smart ones who spam and send viruses all over the world to destroy computers and waste every one’s time isn’t incentive to make them stop. They just get more inventive. Make it graphic, visual, and incredibly public. Go for humiliation, go for violence, go for BLOOD.

Okay, I think I’m through for the moment. Whew!

Honestly, it took me two hours to read through posts on the WordPress forums to find out how to deal with spam, and then another hour digging through the software before I finally found out how to work things to prevent this. This is Day Two of using the program and already I’m wasting time with abuse. So sad. You see how my anger is justified. I haven’t even learned the program yet.

Hopefully this technique will work. I’ll let you know about the other techniques and plug-ins that I’ll be researching when I get a chance. I certainly didn’t need to be dealing with spammers while packing and moving.

Tel Aviv, Israel

Counting Up the Cost of Moving, Part 1

Okay, so far we have spent USD $660 for shipping 12 boxes of critical stuff. We’ve bought several batches of bubble wrap, probably totally around $50 worth and we will need some more before this is over. We also have gone through about six rolls of packing tape, at probably $3 a roll which adds another $18. Small change but I’m trying to keep track.

On a different note, I’ve just started using WordPress to handle and maintain this blog and it isn’t even public yet (will be within a couple of days) and already I have over 50 spammed comments. The whole point of using WordPress was to make the process easier and allow people to comment on these posts and the site in general. It’s not public and its already being abused. I’m learning right now how to stop this by using some plug-ins and I’ll supply the list and information when I get a better handle on it.

Nothing like doing too many things at once.

Tel Aviv, Israel

Back from the Post Office

I just got back from the post office in part one of our move back to the states. I figure that I should keep a record of how this all works so I can remember, and others can learn from our misery.

We have to have some things in Tulsa when we arrive for our work and activities to continue. We also have a few Xmas presents and warm clothes that are just too heavy to include in the suitcases. So we just finished shipping the first big batch through the Israel Post Office using their EMS fast and cheap service. The cost is NIS 14.50 a kilo up to 20kg. That’s about $3 per kilo. We couldn’t have anything over 20kg, and when I weighed a box at 18kg, I understood why. That’s about 40 pounds, give or take.

If you mail a certain amount of boxes, you are entitled to a discount. Brent checked previously and couldn’t get any answer on how many boxes entitled you to the discount, but the clerk at the post office, who I’ve been working with for the past four years, told me that anything over one box, for me, would get a discount. The total for the 12 boxes came to NIS 3000 (about $666) and she told me that included a NIS660 savings ($150). Still, it’s an ouch.

The price we’ve been given by movers and shippers who specialize in overseas shipments is about $1500 USD, so we are WAY past our budget completely.

It’s difficult because we can only get about NIS 2000 (USD$440) out of the cash machines per day with the limits in place, and we’re maxing that every day to get enough for the shipping and to pay the landlord in cash. This makes life here REAL difficult.

So we hauled the 12 boxes to the post office in the rental car and carried them into the post office, filled out miles of forms and started lifting them onto the scales. Brent left me there to finish up and headed to the vet where he dropped off another stool sample from Kohav. We’re still battling her little intestinal parasites, though I think we might have finally knocked them down. We’ll hear in a day or two what the results are, but it is still funny to think about fitting in time to drop off some shit during the busy morning, and really mean it.

Brent then dropped the car off at the rental agency and stopped and got more bubble wrap on his way home. I went to the photo copy place on my way back from the post office and got copies of both of our passports and all stamps and visas. The movers need these for clearing customs to check to see if we have any customs fees or permits. Since we arrived as tourists with 8 suitcases, we never went through customs upon arrival.

Well, off for a quick bite of lunch and now we’re tackling the kitchen and packing it up. We’ve pretty much done the living room and bedroom. The rest is fairly simple. I’ll dismantal the computer stuff on Wednesday.

Lots to do.

Tel Aviv, Israel

Seeing Israel’s Firsts: Pull Out From Gaza and Arafat Sick and Rain

We’ve got an entire living room crammed with boxes and are almost done with the packing up. Not as much to pack as I thought, but more than I really want. We finally found some movers who we hope are good. Not much you can do but trust and trust and wait. I keep telling myself it is just STUFF. While I’ve tried to cut back on paper, we still have a ton of it. Going to get a nice new (small) scanner when we get back to help cut back on even more of the stuff.

Two friends from the states decided at last minute to come spent two weeks with us to SEE Israel and we just took them to the airport to fly back this morning. It was fun to have a last fling around the country to see our favorite places and show it off. And how amazing that our friends were here for the incredible Kinneset vote to pull out of Gaza, and for the hospitalization and sensation that Arafat LOVES to promote, this time through illness. In addition to all the trouble and media attention he is generating, he wants a fight from the Palestinian people to rise up and invade Israel (or whatever it takes) to get his body buried in Jerusalem. He wants a holy shrine dedicated to him that has as much holy significance as Mecca or something. Israel has refused his request repeatedly, and continues to do so. The only shrine to Arafat that most people want is a big of indigestion they get from reading about him in the history books. While I was in Jerusalem yesterday (the Old City – full of Palestinians and Israeli-Arabs) I kept hearing from all of my Arab friends there that they couldn’t wait for the old bugger to die. Time for “young-her peoples” to take over, we were told over and over again. That’s nice to know.

Another first our friends got to experience was even more important to us on a personal scale than the pull out vote on Gaza or Arafat’s illness. On the way back from Jerusalem the last night, it started to rain. Tons of it. But only for about two minutes, but it was rain. Geshem. Real stuff. Not the fake-you-out misty stuff that comes with three drops and leaves immediately, never reaching the pavement. Real cover-the-cars-with-splatters-and-turn-on-the-windshield-wipers kinda rain. First one of the year since May. That was worth waiting for.

Tel Aviv, Israel

About Brent’s New Job

Brent is on such an ego high, he is near impossible to live with. Okay, not completely, but he could be. Within about an hour’s time and 15 minutes work, he had a new job. Ain’t that cool. So nice to be in demand. Seems that someone he used to work with at Timco in North Carolina left that company and started his own in Mobile, Alabama, just after Brent and I left for Israel. He kept telling people who knew Brent to tell him (if they saw or talked to him) that if Brent wanted a job, he’d have one waiting. When Brent ran into him at one of his engineering conferences in the states, he repeated it directly to Brent. When Brent went through the job possibilities, keeping in mind that he really needed to stay near to the east coast of the US in order to continue with his program of FAA certification, he thought of Mobile, Alabama.

He emailed Wayne to check on him and see how things were going after the horrible hurricane season. Wayne said again that if Brent was looking for work, he was wanted there. So Brent emailed him explaining the job in Israel was over and SNAP! Brent had a job. Ain’t life good.

The company works on commercial airplanes doing all kinds of repair and maintenance work, including development of new upgrades and systems. They recently were awarded a contract to put high speed internet on a bunch of airplanes so people can surf the web through satellites as they fly. Ain’t that awesome technology? Brent is thrilled at the chance to work on some new projects. He’s been working the passenger-to-cargo modifications for seven years now and is ready for a new challenge. They are going to help him finish his DER as well. YEAH.

And if that isn’t enough, there is more to tell.

While we were having a last go of it in Jerusalem yesterday, our friends from the states, Al and Jo, stopped off at the bathroom while we waited outside. The phone rang and a man asked for Brent. I handed him my cell phone and within a few minutes Brent was cooing and ooing and sighing. I finally figured out what it was all about and fell back on the ground in the middle of the ancient Roman Cardo Street of the Old City in hysterics. Here we were in the most “holiest” and oldest city in the world getting a job offer from a guy in Arizona who wants Brent to be in China by November 8 for two to three weeks on a project and then to Singapore in December for three months with trips back to China to keep the China project going. And the kicker is that this guy is a subcontractor for the man Brent has already taken a job from.

Too hysterical. Surreal. This is the kind of thing that happens to OTHER people in books and movies. I couldn’t stop laughing it was so bizarre. Anyway, Brent is pretty sure that he will not take that job no matter how awesome it looks like (his best friend is in China working on the same related project (we just saw him a week ago before he went back) and Singapore is one of the few Asian places on our MUST GO list) so he can get his DER certification DONE and back on track. Then we can take any job we want. He only has until April to convince the guy he is a MUST candidate. Sure, he is taking the smarter road, but isn’t that a dream thing to have happen????

It took me a while to wipe the tears away and get off the road. Incredible. It does give Brent a great ego boost and gives us another taste of what our life will be like in the future. I can live like this.

Off to do more packing!

Tel Aviv, Israel

Preparing to Leave Israel

Well, the news is out and it is final. We are indeed finally leaving Israel after 5 years of a six month job. We are heading…get out the drum roll please!….to…..are you ready…..Mobile, Alabama. Can you say “southern”?

Okay, so I’m not totally happy about the location but we’re committed. Or should be. The job here in Israel was winding down and we were ready for a change, so while the company handled the dismissal abysmally, we’ve been anticipating this. So after two months playing and Brent attending guitar workshops and festivals and training programs at Boeing, within an hour of emails and phone calls he had a new job. He’s very excited about it and I’ll have plenty of news about it coming soon.

The movers are coming on November 4, Thursday, to strip the apartment down to its original furnishings, plus a few pieces we’re leaving behind, and we’re off like a turd of hurtles to Tulsa, Oklahoma, to pick up (and fix up) the truck and trailer and head to Moh-beeeel, Al-ah-bah-mah. Oh, dear, I’m going to have to learn another language again.

Brent’s mother is thrilled to no end because we will be in Tulsa for the very rare event of a family reunion for Thanksgiving, and then off down the dreaded Interstates 10 or 20 (oh, my back!) to Mobile.
We should be out of Israel by November 10, if not sooner.

I’ll have more details on everything, so stay tuned!

Lorelle
Tel Aviv, Israel

Surgery on Both Parents

My mother decided to blow her back out with her overactive life style and has been in terrible pain battling the results over the past 10 months. She has three blown or damaged discs in her back and has now relented to have back surgery, after trying EVERYTHING else to avoid it. From my understanding about the surgery, the risks are very low and the results should be great.

The surgery was a week ago and she was up and walking around less than two hours after the surgery. Amazing. But then she got really sick and started itching and a few hours later found out that the hospital had blatantly been giving her morphine via drip. She thought it was some saline fluids or something. It was written across the top of her chart in huge letters and then highlighted “ALLERGIC TO MORPHINE AND PAIN KILLERS” and she and her husband checked it out before the surgery. So they took out the morphine and gave her pain killers. She thought they were sleeping pills. The next morning, sick as a dog, she discovered that they had been continuing to poison her and ordered all the treatment to be stopped. Instead of going home that same day, she spent four days in the hospital and is taking a very long time to recover from the allergic reaction. The surgery recovery is nothing, but her immune system is shot to hell. Buggers.

Her mother and I are also allergic to morphine, in fact anything with an “ine” at the end, so I don’t know what to do in the future for me but maybe have “ALLERGIC TO PAIN MEDICATION” tatooed on my arms. I’d really hate that, but how can you avoid this kind of crap in the future?

My dad also had surgery on a tumor on his neck that turned out to be a nothing – fibroid thing. The same fibroid ickies I inherited from him. Damn the gene pool. He’s doing much better and is off camping in his motorhome right now. Glad he is out and about. So both are doing fine, as expected. And they both did it without me there to take care of them. Maybe my parents are finally growing up.

Hee hee.

Tel Aviv, Israel

Taking Your Camera on the Road Has New Web Site Address

PRESS RELEASE
DATE: September 2004
SUBJECT: NEW Address! Taking Your Camera on the Road web site

VanFossen Productions, Lorelle and Brent VanFossen
“Taking Your Camera on the Road”

www.cameraontheroad.com
lorelle@cameraontheroad.com
Tel Aviv, Israel

Tel Aviv, Israel – As of September 2004, vanfossenpro.com will become www.cameraontheroad.com. After over nine years as vanfossenpro.com, the VanFossens welcome the new and exciting name change.

The new name, cameraontheroad.com, better suits the vast material hosted on the VanFossen’s web site which features their travels and adventures, as well as educational information about nature photography, travel, life on the road, and the Internet.

“We travel internationally and are constantly challenged by the pronouncation and spelling of vanfossenpro.com,” admits web developer and designer, Lorelle VanFossen. “We needed a name that summarized what we do while being easy to remember.”

On the service, there are a few visual changes on the new site, but the more than 500 articles and informative web pages packed with material haven’t changed. “We’re continuing to add new information all the time,” Lorelle says. “Most recently we’ve concentrated on informative articles about web development, design, and CSS web page standards to help the photographer and traveler share their love for the traveling life with others.”

Taking Your Camera on the Road features hundreds of articles about nature photography, going on the road, living on the road, photographing worldwide nature locations and subjects, web page design and development, photography techniques, basic nature photography, and more.

For more information on what’s new at Taking Your Camera on the Road, visit the What’s New page.

-30-

It’s a Small Jewish World After All

Most of the jokes that come my way are tossed before even being inspected. Can’t stand email jokes! If there is a note in the title or the first line from the sender that says something like, “I saw this and thought immediately of you” or “This reminds me of when you and I…”. But if it says “I nearly laughed myself off the chair and thought you would think this is funny”, odds are 1) I’ve seen it before (at least 30 times), and 2) I won’t find it funny. I love jokes. I love silliness, but I don’t time for a clogged up email inbox filled with jokes.

I know I sound callous but when you live our lifestyle on the road – and you live in Israel – your day-to-day, minute-by-minute life is so filled with things worth of laughter because they are so totally outrageous and ridiculous, email jokes lose their flavor.

Now that my “email joke” soap box is over, I do have one to share with you that so epitomizes our life here in Israel, I just had to share it.

After months of negotiation with the authorities, a Talmudist from Odessa was granted permission to visit Moscow. He boarded the train and found an empty seat.

At the next stop a young man got on and sat next to him. The scholar looked at the young man and thought: This fellow doesn’t look like a peasant, and if he isn’t a peasant he probably comes from this district. If he comes from this district, then he must be Jewish because this is, after all, a Jewish district.

On the other hand, if he is a Jew, where could he be going? I’m the only Jew in our district who has permission to travel to Moscow.

Ahh? But just outside Moscow there is a little village called Samvet, and Jews don’t need special permission to go there. But why would he be going to Samvet?

He’s probably going to visit one of the Jewish families there, but how many Jewish families are there in Samvet? Only two – the Bernsteins and the Steinbergs. The Bernsteins are a terrible family, and a nice looking fellow like him must be visiting the Steinbergs.

But why is he going? The Steinbergs have only daughters, so maybe he’s their son-in-law. But if he is, then which daughter did he marry? They say that Sarah married a nice lawyer from Budapest, and Esther married a businessman from Zhitomer, so it must be Sarah’s husband. Which means that his name is Alexander Cohen, if I’m not mistaken. But if he comes from Budapest, with all the anti-Semitism they have there, he must have changed his name.

What’s the Hungarian equivalent of Cohen? Kovacs. But if they allowed him to change his name, he must have some special status. What could it be? A doctorate from the University.

At this point the scholar turns to the young man and says, “How do you do, Dr. Kovacs?”

“Very well, thank you, sir.” answered the startled passenger. But how is it that you know my name?”

“Oh,” replied the Talmudist, “it was obvious.”

Brent was photographing in the wilderness among the Eilat Mountains, miles away from civilization. He was after some honey buzzards. A van arrived with a small group of birders and soon one came over to check out his big camera lens, a magnet for the curious. Within seconds he heard their life stories and that they were part of a birding group based in Tel Aviv and were also there for the honey buzzards – and, oh, by the way, did he happen to know Mottie and Marlene

Brent replied that they are good friends of ours and that we had just had dinner with them only a few weeks before. The woman leader was overjoyed to know that we shared something in common and then Brent said he could see the wheels churing in her head.

“Are you the Brent VanFossen, famous nature photographer and teacher, that Mottie and Marlene are always talking about?”

Brent admitted it was probably so. She went totally nuts and invited the whole group over to meet him and before long, he was a part of the group and he ended up spending the day with them.

I wish I could tell you this is a unique event in our life here. Everyone knows everyone in this microscopic community of less than 6 million citizens. Over and over we meet people who know people who know us in a vast never-ending circle of connections. And we don’t know that many people here. Though, I have to admit that we know only two other “Americans” and that number has remained steady for much of our 5 years here. We don’t hang out with x-pats or non-citizens. We hang out with people who were either born here or lived here for a minimum of 20 years.

I guess we’re in the “in crowd” because we don’t stay exclusively with non-residents. There are pluses and minuses to that, but I want to get back to the “everyone knows everyone” thing.

Since everyone under the age of 40-something who comes to Israel to live has to go through the army, the army creates a “family” of connections. So this is one way everyone knows everyone.

Another way is through the lack of much hierarchy in the society. Sure, there are the uppers and the lowers, but in general, most everyone here has been, until recently, on the same footing. All immigrants or struggling residents smashing heads together to create a viable state against odds that are completely and totally overwhelming. I can’t see any town in the US coming together to create and build from NOTHING like I have here. The force of human nature to transform, whether it likes it or not, is amazing. This determination brought groups of people together and overcame much of the class system really. Sure it lingeres, but for the most part everyone feels like they are equal to everyone else. This creates relationships across financial and cultural divides not found in many of the world’s societies. It is fairly common to invite your local grocer guys over for dinner or parties. People are just people.

Most importantly, everyone knows everyone in Israel because it is part of the culture, as shown in the joke, to know everything you can about a person within the first 30 seconds of meeting. We make jokes, but we’ve suffered the slick interrogations that happen when you meet new people here. “So where are you from?” “So what do you do?” “Do you know Moshe?” “Ah, how do you know Moshe?” “Where do you live?” And the list goes on. If you aren’t careful, you’ll be handing out your passport number to these inquisitive folks.

I tried to explain this to an American friend who told me, “Of course they are suspicious. Everyone is a potential terrorist.” Sorry. It goes beyond that. You are not accepted until they have found a place for you in their world. It is critical for them to find commonality, common ground to stand on next to you. Being dismissed for lack of commonality is also normal here and if you aren’t used to it, it can tear at your spirit something vicious. I’ve started conversations with people who decided I wasn’t worth the energy and they just turned and walked off. After a while, you realize it has nothing to do with you. It is a sign that you have nothing to do with them. Lack of common ground, no interest. NEXT!

Along with this having-to-know-everything-about-you comes friendships and connections that help you through the tough times it takes to live here. I can call one friend and ask about where I might find something and within a day I will get a call from another friend who said that Ruth told Inez and Inez told Ester, who told another Ruth who called me that I needed information about XYZ and here is the information. It’s a strange thing but it happens.

When I first came here, out of the blue my neighbor said, “If you need a good dentist, the best is right down the street, Dr. Kaplan.” I didn’t but I remembered his name because it is the same as a major street in Tel Aviv near our house. Months later, another friend mentioned, out of nowhere, that if I needed a good dentist, there was one right by my apartment, name of Kaplan. Hmmm, sounded familiar. When I finally needed a dentist, I asked around and two completely related people recommended Dr. Kaplan. Convinced, Brent and I went there and were stunned to find that he is actually from Florida and a great and really friendly dentist. Lucky us. But the point is that this connection of everyone knowing everyone comes up in the strangest ways. We had two dentists’ offices in the bottom floor of our building but no one recommended them!

This connection between people is something I wish the US would embrace. Too many people don’t know who lives across the hall from them. It’s so sad. My neighbor on the bottom floor told me to ignore her interrogation right after we arrived. “I grew up in a kibbutz. If we didn’t know everything about everyone, they weren’t worth knowing. I treat this apartment building like my kibbutz. I just have to know everything that is going on all the time. I’m miserable unless I do.”

So I challenge you. Go interrograte your neighbor. Do it for the good of the community. And maybe make a friend. At the least, you’ll know someone who someday someone else might ask you if you know!

Tel Aviv, Israel

Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road – A Twist on a Tale

Cruising around, fussing over odds and ends in my life, I decided to put Brent’s name in Google and see what the search came up with. Usually it is filled with tons of links to his famous Interactive Fiction computer game, She’s Got A Thing For A Spring, but this time I found a couple funny things.

One was a link to his Boy Scout Troup – number 26 – and a story about some coin passed down from Eagle Scout to Eagle Scout. Since the page is poorly designed, I thought I would see if this was really the Brent VanFossen from Tulsa, Oklahoma, or another man masquerading as my husband, the Eagle Scout. Indeed, it is the Tulsa group and they are having their 50th Anniversary in just over a week. Darn! Too bad we’re so far away.

I send the info to Brent via email and he’s supposed to post a note about where he is and why he can’t be there and how brilliant he is to be living in Israel right now when any sane US Citizen would be on the first plane out of the Middle East as soon as possible, or sooner than possible if they had two brain cells to rub together. Unfortunately, we seem to have an absence of common sense over the past 5 years and we are STILL HERE! I’ll check on the page in a day or so and see if he really wrote something decent or not about himself, the famous nature photographer, world traveler, fantastic and perfect husband, and brilliant engineer…I love bragging about my best friend.

I also found a very funny posting about the tale of Why the Chicken Crossed the Road written in Interactive Fiction (IF) game style. It is really only funny to people who know the people listed, are familiar with their games and writing style, but I still think it is hysterical. Several people responded and answered the question using their version of how these particular authors would have answered the question in their game style. It pokes fun at them and tries to answer this age old, and dumb, question.

Anyway, I loved it so much, I’m reposting it here with a link to the original. These games, and the authors mentioned, are some of the most brilliant things in the world. I really love the games and many people get really addicted to them for their ingenius use of imagination. In many ways, I think they are much more entertaining and stimulating than most of the computer games out there today, shooting up cartoon characters and solving ridiculous puzzles that go no where. Anyway, here is the joke:

IF Answers to “Why did the chicken cross the road?”
(beware: in-jokes abound)

Matt Kimball:
Adam Cadre The next version has six more euphemisms for the chicken crossing the road.
Joe Mason: To go home and kill himself.
C.E. Forman: Because I didn't get any feedback on PTF.
Ian Finley: He forgot God in his pursuit of science and crossed the forbidden road.
Michael Gentry: This unspeakable act can never be understood. The chicken is now in Danvers Asylum.
Rybread Celsius: The chiken pulls its mask off. It's really yore friend!
Miron Schmidt: You are now on the other side of the road.

Joe Mason:
Matt Barringer: You cross the road. It is full of gangsters. They shoot you.
Daniel Ravipinto: When the chicken crossed the road, it made a choice.
David Dyte: To get to the Rubber Chickens' Picnic.
Brent VanFossen: From the north, an eerie crowing rises above the wind and the rattling of the leaves in the surrounding trees. The large rooster in front of you lifts his head, as if to listen, but does not move.
Whizzard: It'll cross the road soon! I swear!
Kent Tessman: Won't somebody PLEASE port the chicken to the Mac?
Ivan Cockrum: As you behold the majestic sight of the chicken floating gracefully across the road, a sense of wonder settles in your heart. You decide that you hate your job.
Brian Moriarty: All chickens lead to Kensington Gardens.

Den of Iniquity:
Graham: You don't need to refer to that in the course of the game.
Zarf: Yes, it's deliberate.

Brent VanFossen:
Joe Mason: The asphalt underfoot is slick with water, reflecting the unbroken black clouds above. The road is deserted at this time of night, but you can dimly hear the clucking from the opposite side, beyond a high chain-link fence. There, a chicken paces, wet from the incessant rain, unable to surmount the barrier which prevents its crossing.

Phooey on Marriage

Currently, the news out of the states for the past few months has been sprinkled with diatribe and exposes on same-sex marriage. When Bush brought this into the public arena with a disgusting rampage against the vile, sinners who even consider this, threatening to bring forth an amendment to the Constitution to guarantee that marriage will be ONLY between a man and a woman, I went ballistic. Oh, I’m not exaggerating. I was bombastically ballistic.

But there is more to the issue than me going off the deep end on this point. But I will tell you about the deep end of things first.

Marriage is a joke. Honestly. The whole concept of marriage is a made up thing that religious people got their hands on and when they say that “marriage is the ties that bind” they are saying that religion binds them to strangulation just to stay together. Humans, in general, are living longer than ever. Can you imagine, honestly, saying I love you and I want to be with you, and then meaning it 40 years later? That’s great for those who have the “special” love, but for the rest of the world, boredom seeps in. Hey, I want to believe in the fantasy of forever more, but realistically, I don’t see it. The normal American child comes from a divorced family. That’s normal. Living together for ever and ever isn’t.

Let me make it clear, unless the damage to children is worse for the staying together, I think there should be a law that says you will work it out and figure it out and stay together until the children are at least 18 – 22 preferably – or don’t do it in the first place . This should be the penalty for marriage and children. If you’re going to do it, do it well, do it good, and make it last until the child is grown up. All this crap about “He was different before we got married” or “We grew apart” is crap. Pure crap. If you don’t know what you are getting before you get married, wipe the stardust out of your eyes and inspect. Humans may have risen high on the food chain to superior control of the planet, but we are in-breeders and stupid breeders and we are breeding ourselves out of existence by continuing to choose stupid partners to make stupid children.

Oh, Lorelle, you’re being so callus. Excuse me? Think about it. Did you choose your partner because he or she was strong, healthy, brilliant, wise in heart, mind and spirit? Or was it cuz they were cute, sexy, good in bed, had money, seemed nice, or you thought you’d never get another offer? These are the number one reasons people get married. Not for survival of the fittest and survival of the marriage and family, but for cute, money, and low self-esteem. Think about it. Does a snake think “I’ll go for the weak and sickly one in the corner”? Does a lion say “Hey, buddy, if I lose, will you make me king of the jungle?” NO! Only humans go for the pity party when partnering.

Benefits of marriage? Let’s see, some governments in the world give you a tax break, but others don’t. As for the States, they say they do but you still can end up paying more if you are married depending upon your income. Married people don’t have to fight over who gets what when one dies when there isn’t a clear estate plan, but a good estate plan can overcome the marriage laws. There are insurance benefits – you can take turns riding each other’s insurance plans. Let’s see, in some places you get to know medical and other private information about your partner, but the number one reason same-sex people want to get married is so they can be by the bedside of their dying partner when the time comes. Other than that, where are the benefits of being married?

Social recognition! Say what? So, when you are married society thinks its “okay” and when you live together it’s horrible. Who thought that up? Again, religion enters into the picture. Trust me, no marriage ever made a family perfect, holy, or on a crash course for heaven. It is the people in the game that matter not the piece of paper.

So other than for a few tax and insurance things, the core of marriage boils down to who can stand next to the bedside at death in a hospital and who can sign off on the paper that says “pull the plug”. That’s all that I can come up with. The rest is bullshit and religion. All made up stuff.

If a parent or guardian can pull the plug on a child, and a married partner can pull the plug on each other, why can’t someone else do it if the papers are in order? Signing a piece of paper that gives someone legal guardianship isn’t much different than a marriage contract. “Until death do us part” is the same thing in legal terms. So what’s the big deal? Unfortunately, there are lots of big deals.

Besides the religious crap for banning same-sex marriage, the ringing cry from anti-same-sex marriage folks is the “fact” that this will lower the birthrate. What? According to the US National Center for Health Statistics, 1,365,966 births were out of wedlock in 2002, up 1 percent from 2001. No one seems to care about these kids coming from a single mother home. They only seem to care about children in same-sex homes. Excuse me, people make babies for a lot of reasons, and being married isn’t one of them. Look at Rachel on the hit television show, Friends. She went through with it unmarried, but with “friends”. A lot of people do. And same-sex folks also want children and there is no evidence ANYWHERE (except that coming from religiously-biased groups and not based upon fact) that the sex of your parents makes a difference.

No one complains about one woman raising children, or one man raising children. They just complain about two women raising children or two men raising children. HAVING parents, or at least one steady, caring and compassionate person in the home, has a greater impact on children than the sex of the guardian. Oprah was raised by her grandmother, as was Barry Manilow. Bill Gates lost his dad when he was very young, and Barbara Streisand’s father died when she was in diapers. Lots of incredibly powerful people came from mixed up, non-normal homes. What should be different about same-sex couples? And folks, don’t worry, people will keep making babies, with and without marriage.

Because marriage is a made up thing that is reinforced by a society once dominated by subservience to religion for social control, why bother? My position on this is very simple and very clear. Love is love and a rare commodity in the world. If you love each other enough to put up with all the bullshit over the years, and there will be bullshit, then sign a piece of paper, call it a contract, and be “married”.

Make the paper mean something and not be something easily broken for the next honey that comes around the corner. And think about it a long time before doing. I honestly think the law that Bush should be pushing for is one that requires every child to go through marriage and family training and counseling before they can graduate. But no, many states require students to pass a swimming test before they can graduate (to lower the number of deaths from drowning) but they can graduate without knowing how to handle a checkbook, get a job, or get married and have children. Too sad.

Same sex? Different sex? You notice I didn’t mention the exclusivity of the sex in my marriage position. That is because of the leading line that states love is a rare commodity. Love that is strong, lasting, and lifts both parties up instead of smashing them down over time, well, that is one that should be honored no matter who is doing the loving. Who cares. Let love rule the marriage rights and abolish all laws, rules, and regs of the government interfering in the bedroom.

Now, let’s put my own diatribe aside and look at this from another perspective. One that should be shaking up the walls of the US with much more outrage than the crap about same-sex marriage being the downfall of civilization.

Did you know that you can’t get married in Israel without a rabbi? There is no legal civil marriage in Israel. Marriage must happen under the Jewish “tent” (so to speak) with a rabbi no matter what religion you are.

This has always confused me. How the Arab-Israelis handle their marriage contracts? Make a trip to Jordan or Egypt? Not so outrageous. As a member of the international community, Israel recognizes the legitimacy of foreign marriage licenses and certificates. If you get married outside of the country, Israel will honor it. Many Israelis will fly to Cypress or another neighboring country to marry and escape the religious laws in Israel. Other Israelis say “screw it” and just live together, ignoring all the crap about marriage. Enough do so that the whole marriage thing is kinda silly to fuss over. They stay together and take care of each other, and if they need a ceremony, they have a bunch of friends and family over, do the white dress and flowers and cake shtick, have a friend lift a glass in celebration of their union, and call it a marriage. Who needs the paper? Ancient humans didn’t.

Legislature bills have bubbled up over the decades to change this, but every time the religious parties have been strong enough to swat it down. Now, things might be changing.

In today’s Haaretz newspaper, there is a game afoot in the legislature to proposes civil marriage under another name. The Bar-On Committee will submit to the ministerial committee on legislation a revolutionary bill providing an alternative to traditional marriage. They want to call it a “partnership” and not “marriage” and make it the legal term of reference. This way, people can choose to become partners by religious ceremony or by civil registration, leaving the concept of marriage out of the picture by changing the word.

Brilliant!

According to the article: “The possibility to register as partners without going through the rabbinate will be available to every Israeli, not merely to those without a religion or forbidden to marry according to halakha (Jewish law). All the partners, whether married in a religious ceremony or in a civil procedure, will be eligible for all the rights of a married couple. Those registered in a civil procedure will get divorced in a family court and not a rabbinical one.”

Why now?

Israel’s political government is made up of over 28 different political parties. In order to form a “unified government”, the prime minister must have a united coalition of the majority of political parties. A couple years ago, the ultra religious political group, Shas, pushed one too many times and Sharon slapped them out of the government. Told them, “you keep threatening to leave, so do it already!” and they did. With recent screams and shouting over the settlement withdrawals in Gaza, other religious parties are getting out of the “unified” government by quitting or firing. This is probably the first time since the very early days of Israel, there is a majority of secular political parties onboard. The time is right to get this through since it is a deal breaker for the religious.

With many parties already out or on their way out, one of the most secular parties growing in strength, Shinui (means change) has threatened that if this “partnership” proposal is not passed, they will quit the coalition. Sharon is only a couple of parties shy of losing his “unified government”, so this is a great threat to hold over his head.

So the timing is right. This is such a strange thing because the majority of Israeli citizens support civil marriages, but the religious have very strong controls here on so many things. I know it sounds strange, but in a way, Israel is not so much different from other Middle Eastern countries. The religious have control over the government and much of the governing. The only difference is that Israel portrays themselves as a democracy, even though the citizens don’t get much of a vote on the real workings of the government. They get some, but not as much as they could.

So next time you fuss over the rights to marriage, think about how marriage is more complicated for other countries. In many Middle East, Asian, and African countries, girls are assigned a husband at birth, with no opportunity to change their minds. In parts of the far orient, girls are “given” to their future husband’s family to be raised next to their future husband as brother and sister, fully knowing that this person is to be their partner, and passing the burden of raising a daughter off on a future husband’s family. Dowery rights are still argued over, feeding and supporting families on the backs and sex of daughters. Too much fuss over something that is so small in the major scheme of things. It’s time to abolish this whole thing.

Love is love, and when it is found, celebrate it in all its forms, between a parent and child, between friends, between lovers, between everyone. Let the stigma of marriage fall by the wayside and lets get on with the more important parts of life.

Lorelle
Tel Aviv, Israel

Update!
I did a little research and found out that the concept of marriage as we know it first showed up with the Earl of Hardwicke’s Marriage Act of 1754 in England which regulated marriage by law, acting as a control over property rights. Until then, it was a private contract between two individuals (often controlled by families) to handle the granting of property rights and the protection of bloodlines as it applied to those property rights (inheritance). This kept it “all in the family” and kept the “illegitimate” from inheriting. The notion of marriage as a “holy sacrament” and not just a contract can be traced Paul in the New Testament’s writings who compared the relationship of a husband and wife to that of Christ and his church (Ephesians 23-32). After the Norman Conquest, the church controlled weddings, involving themselves in the “contract” between the parties over property and benefiting from that involvement. Love had little or nothing to do with it.

Until 1878, the only government involvement in marriage were state laws that said American Slaves and interracial couples were not permitted to marry. Even after slavery was abolished, the union of interracial couples continued to be restricted in some states and areas until the 1967 Supreme Court ruling overturning the ban on interracial marriage.

In response to the “outrageous nature” of the Mormon’s practise of polygamy, the US Supreme Court in 1878 finally got the government involved in the marriage, establishing it as a “civil contract regulated by law”. Over the next 100 years, most of the states created laws establishing the legal standard for the marriage contract and defining a “common-law marriage”, where a couple is considered legally married if they reside together for a certain amount of time and pass a few other tests for proof of co-habitation. From 1969 to 1985, divorce became the norm and most states provided for no-fault divorce, once again intruding upon the marriage contract, allowing it to be quickly and easily broken.

During World War II, between 1940 and 1942 over 1000 marriages happened every day on average as servicemen wed before going off to war. An entire industry was soon started, reinforced by the new invention, television, which promoted the “perfect” family to aspire to, not based upon reality but illusion. Statistics still measure a typical American family as having one parent and full of divorce, adultery, and over-worked parents.

In the beginning, a marriage was a private contract between two individuals, with all the rights and regulations spelled out between them. Why should the union of two people have anything to do with the government? This is not how it “always was” and it is not the way of governments in most of the world. In fact, the laws around marriage have been evolving and changing constantly, even in the US, as the social standards shift and change. The legal concept of marriage is new in the history of the world, so expect it to change, folks.

A Serious Plan for Peace

A friend sent me this with the title “Robin Williams Peace Plan”. I did a little search on the Truthorfiction.com and Snopes hoax pages and found that this came out in 2003 and isn’t written by Robin Williams. Somehow that got added. The quote at the bottom is one of Robin Williams’ comedic comments, and somehow the whole thing got attributed to him. I don’t care where it came from, but I’m thrilled with the idea so I thought I would post it here.

But first, let me explain. I’m thrilled with the cynicism behind the idea. A lot of people talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. And this is what a lot of people are talking about. Think about it.

I see a lot of people yelling for peace but I have not heard of a plan for peace. So, here’s one plan.

1. The US will apologize to the world for our “interference” in their affairs, past and present. You know, Hitler, Mussolini, Tojo, Noriega, Milosovich and the rest of those good ol’ boys: We will never “interfere” again.

2. We will withdraw our troops from all over the world, starting with Germany, South Korea and the Philippines. They don’t want us there. We would station troops at our borders. No one sneaking through holes in the fence.

3. All illegal aliens have 90 days to get their affairs together and leave. We’ll give them a free trip home. After 90 days the remainder will be gathered up and deported immediately, regardless of who or where they are. France would welcome them.

4. All future visitors will be thoroughly checked and limited to 90 days unless given a special permit. No one from a terrorist nation would be allowed in. If you don’t like it there, change it yourself and don’t hide here. Asylum would never be available to anyone. We don’t need any more cab drivers or 7-11 cashiers.

5. No “students” over age 21. The older ones are the bombers. If they don’t attend classes, they get a “D” (for “deport”) and it’s back home baby.

6. The US will make a strong effort to become self-sufficient energy wise. This will include developing non-polluting sources of energy but will require a temporary drilling of oil in the Alaskan wilderness. The caribou will have to cope for a while.

7. Offer Saudi Arabia and other oil producing ! countries $10 a barrel for their oil. If they don’t like it, we go some place else. They can go somewhere else to sell their production. (About a week of the wells filling up the storage sites would be enough.)

8. If there is a famine or other natural catastrophe in the world, we will not “interfere.” They can pray to Allah or whomever for seeds, rain, cement or whatever they need. Besides, most of what we give them is stolen or given to the Army. The people who need it most get very little, if anything.

9. Ship the UN Headquarters to an isolated island some place. We don’t need the spies and fair weather friends here. Besides, the building would make a good homeless shelter or lockup for illegal aliens.

10. All Americans must go to charm and beauty school. That way no one can call us “Ugly Americans” any longer. The language we speak is ENGLISH…..learn it…or LEAVE…

Now, ain’t that a winner of a plan.

Robin Williams: The Statue of Liberty is no longer saying “Give me your poor, your tired, your huddled masses.” She’s got a baseball bat and she’s yelling, “You want a piece of me?”

Isn’t this wicked! I do love the points it makes. Sometimes comedy can speak bigger truths than any religion.

Tel Aviv, Israel

More Nauseating Pictures of New Kitten

Kohav and Brent portraitOkay, this will be the last of the new pictures for a while, if we can stand it, but Brent has insisted that he show off his new daughter.

Our new little kitten has a name. It is Kohav, pronounced CO-CKHah-v but CO-HAH-V will also work. The word features that horrid HCHKHeck sound like you are gargling up spit in your throat, but we will treat it softer like a forced HEH sound.

We settled upon Kohav because it means “star”. She has tiny white hairs flirting around with the solid blackness on her face and back and her ears are constellations of stars in the midnight black. Using our little crummy digital camera, we can’t seem to capture the soft white hairs, but they are there. She is fluffy and will probably stay long hair as she grows up. She is also a gem, and our world now revolves around her, so “star” is appropriate. Brent is so disgustingly in love, it really is obnoxious, and he has barely stopped smiling and laughing in the past week, more than in the past two or three YEARS!
Closeup of Kohav with little blue eyes
Kohav is now six weeks old and bouncing off the walls then collapsing into the deepest sleep, so deep, sometimes I check her breathing or move her to wake up a bit so I’m sure she is still with us. She loves sleeping on us, near us, around us, and just attached at the hip constantly. A more loving and cuddly baby we could not have asked for.

She sleeps all through the night with us in bed, staying out of the path of rolling humans quite well, and reminding us with a squeal if we’ve smothered her. She loves snuggling in between us for warmth, which is amazing during the heat wave we’re in the middle of – the traditional Shurav is doing its hot and sandy stuff – and loves cuddling necks, heads, hair, and any bent arm or leg. She has also taken to sleeping on my desk between my chest and the keyboard, and when she starts squirming, I put her on my shoulder and she rides around there or draped around my neck. If it’s a resting point, she will find it on our bodies.

Kohav sleeps in Brent's shirt pocketShe has recently found Brent’s shirt pocket and decided that this is the best place in town for a good nap in the late afternoon and evening, and a good place to keep an eye on the man in the beard and smack his hairy chin if he doesn’t cooperate.

Brent is thrilled to have a new sleeping partner and it doesn’t take much to lure him to bed. Her purr is a soft chatter with a hum underneath, which sets Brent’s sleep mechanism right to work.

Mornings begin at 5:45 when Brent leaves the bed for the race to work, taking her to the potty as he heads for the shower. Then she is immediately back in the bed dancing on my head and every other body part as she attacks folds and creases in the sheets, moving and unmoving, demanding playtime. I play with her for a bit, then feed her and head out to exercise, if the heat doesn’t knock me on my tuckus. Lunch brings more playtime and naps as I eat and watch my downloaded television shows, and then more play time and nap time during the afternoon between work projects until Brent comes home. She goes running for the door, arriving before I do, for the first hug and snuggle. I now have to wait my turn.

Brent and Kohav snuggling in their sleepWe spent the weekend, our first weekend as a threesome, together in Eilat, chasing birds again. Brent got some great bird pictures, we hope, of honey buzzards and a rare European Bittern or something like that. She traveled perfectly, not bothered by the long drive hours plus) and enjoying being carted around in her mesh backpack (pack for me on my back, not hers) and riding in the car. She even used the potty, an improvised dog dish with a little kitty litter, and Brent rolled down all the windows to air the car out as I snatched up the toxin and stuffed it inside two plastic bags, tied tightly. She is still adjusting to healthy cat food, though she doesn’t look like she was starved or harmed or suffered in any way, but the side effects are nasty poops and hideously foul farts. We have to really watch for kitten farts – they are extraordinarily potent. As Brent headed out predawn every morning for the birds, Kohav and I stayed in from the miserable 100F heat and sand and got to know each other. She took to her name quickly, and we had a few snug naps and wrestling matches, the whole of her life’s work right there.

Brent napped with her during the day, so cute, the sunburned fuzzy faced giant of a man with a spot of black on his neck. Brent is in love and I can see that this will be a long term relationship.

Brent and Kohav snuggling asleep togetherWell, that’s the cuteness, nauseatingness up-to-date on the new addition to our family. For those living in Seattle, you’ll get a chance to see her in person in August, as we trek there, hopefully, for a guitar workshop for Brent. Love and thanks for tolerating and sharing our new found joy!

Tel Aviv, Israel

A Miracle Doesn’t Happen Every Day – New Kitten

Our hearts were broken when, after a couple really positive days with the rescued kitten, she started going downhill. I had a few hours of realization that we were going to lose her, and I fought as best I could. Then I said my goodbyes and prayers. But still she fought on. I called the vet at 7 AM and begged what to do. He told me to feed her water to keep her hydrated and against my body for warmth. She was a fighter and she’d hold on until we could meet them at the clinic at 9. “She’ll hold on.”

I did my best, knowing it was only a panacea, and as I pulled out of the driveway and went a 1/2 block, I knew she had died, at 8:20. She was two weeks and two days old. I brought her back upstairs, and called the vet, who was really pissed. We tried so hard. I’d had her in the night before and she’d been given two doses of fluids, but we all knew in the back of our minds that this wasn’t enough. We did our best and she was surrounded with love and affection she would have never known.

I was so worried about Brent. He had held her for over four hours that night, fussing over her fleas and stroking her head, purring against his chest. The loss of Toshi had been devastating and the sudden loss of Dahni was too horrible. I was so afraid that Brent would really be heart broken this time, and put an end to pets in our life.

I cleaned things up and moved her to a cool spot so we could bury her together when he came home from work. I didn’t want to call him and tell him as things have been crappy at work and I didn’t want to stress him out. I finally ate something and tried to sleep. Three days without much sleep sends me into a kind of stupor where I’m totally exhausted but completely awake – a walking vegetable. I finally took some drowsy pills and tried my best.

At 2:30 PM, the phone rang and it was one of the vets who had worked on the little girl the night before. She told me how sad she was, and angry, that we’d lost her, and then told me that she knew I didn’t believe in grief replacement. I don’t. I think it is totally unfair for a parent, or an adult, to immediately replace a dead animal with another just to avoid the suffering and grieving process. Ridiculous. Grieving is part of life and denying it is short cutting your life’s emotions. You can’t replace something so fast.

I started to say yes, but she interrupted me and asked me to just listen to this story and consider this. She told me that there was a young man there, a student (which means someone in college) who had come out of his exercise club to find the most darling kitten that cuddled and rubbed all over him. The security guard told him someone had just dropped her off the day before and no one wanted her. “But she’s so beautiful and loving.” But no one wants a street cat.

The student couldn’t take her, since he lives in a dorm sorta situation with three other students, and the contract for the apartment states no pets except for one fish. He left her there, inserting his music earphones and headed the three and a half blocks home. At the door to his building, he took off his headphones to get the key out and heard a little squeak behind him. She had followed him home.

The new miracle kitten in our lives with big blue eyes at about 5-6 weeks of age, photo by Lorelle VanFossenThe moment I heard those words I was up and out of the bed. In my family, the best pets “come” to us, they aren’t sought out. I have been in “waiting for arrival” mode for a couple of months and I thought the kitten from our garden might be the one, but when I heard “followed me home” bells went off.

I asked how long they could wait until I got there. Instead of answering, he said, “Let me tell you what color it is.” I said, “I don’t care. I’m on my way. Can you wait?” “She’s black and white.” “Of course she is!”

In my family, not only do the best animals come to us, they are all black and white. It’s a theme. A couple of calicos, but for the most part, black and white, or completely black with a spot of white almost invisibly somewhere.

And not only are they black and white, but famous for following us around. We used to have a mother cat when we were kids called “Murp” because she was always so pregnant, she couldn’t meow, only “murp”. No matter how pregnant she was, she would follow us through the fields, waddling along at her own pace, all over the countryside. Toshi and I would go hiking, cross country skiing, and snowshoeing in the forest and walking around all the time on the leash and without. We’ve always had cats that followed us.

I jumped into clothing, after taking a wash cloth bath (three days no sleep – two days no bathing….ick!), and raced in the car to the clinic. The moment I walked in the door they jumped up and said my name. It was like we’d always known each other. The kitten about jumped into my arms. She turned around in my arms a couple of times, snuggled down and started sucking my finger.

His girlfriend said, “See, she loves you already.”

And it was totally love at first sight.

The boy had tried calling everyone he knew for two days, hiding the kitten in his flat. No one wanted her. They had some lame excuses, too. Black cats are bad, unhealthy, evil, bad luck. Too young, Street cat. But this thing, which has no name yet, is an absolute charmer.

She is black with a white belly and chest. She is literally a ball of thick fur, and it is unique as there are white hairs among the black, like stars in the night sky. Her ears are all salt and pepper with a thick batch of white hairs between the black ones. Very unusual. Soft, cuddly ball of black stars.

She had the biggest blue-green eyes that overwhelm her whole head. Totally eyes. And when she looks at you, you just melt. Even anti cat friends of mine are melting immediately.

She is five or six weeks old, been with her mother until very recently, is teething, and sucking and chewing on everything in sight. Energetic, full of piss and vinegar, and a total charmer.

I asked them if the vets had told them the home and lifestyle this little Moteck (Mo-teck – means sweetheart) was going to. The said yes, they had heard all about Dahni, the blind toilet trained kitty, and I told them about our travels in airplanes and all over that this little gem would be experiencing. They were jealous of her, but thrilled that we cared enough to haul our pets with us.

The boy is a student at the university studying biology, with the goal of being a vet, but recently concentrating more on the study and research of big cats, so he was fascinated that we were nature photographers.

I brought our Moteck home and put her in a big box I had gotten for the kitten as a crib but hadn’t used. It was 4:30 and Brent would be home in 30 minutes and panic set in. How could I tell Brent about the kitten dying and then introduce a new one immediately, when he was angry at me for six months for bringing Dahni into our lives so soon (over a year) after Toshi died. How to do this? I panicked and called my dad, who had been awesome that morning when I called to tell him we’d lost the kitten.

Once he woke up, he told me how thrilled he was at the new kitten and agreed this was meant to be. And then my father, not the fountain of caring sentimentality, told me not to worry about Brent. He said that the only reason Brent loved the little kitten and would embrace this one was because “he loves you more than you can even imagine and he will do anything for you and to make you happy.”

I was stunned. Probably one of the nicest things he’s ever said to me. Told me how I might not appreciate how much Brent loves me, but when he was with us in Israel, “I saw him looking at you when you weren’t looking, and that man really loves you. Your happiness means more to him than anything.” Amazing.

And he added that from the description of the new kitten, she couldn’t help to win him over immediately.

Brent knew the moment he walked in the house and saw my face that his fears were confirmed. The kitten was gone. I told him about the morning and that we would bury her this evening when the weather cooled, and bury her near where we buried Dahni in the back garden of the apartment, a jungle place.

Then we talked about his work and life, moving through a thick cloud of “let’s act normal” and finally the time was right. I told him the story and took him into the living room.

Brent with our new bright eyes, photo by Lorelle VanFossenI hate it when my father is right. She totally swept him away. The two are almost inseparable. After playing with her for a while, he laid down on my lap in the middle of the living room floor and she crawled up into his arms and fell asleep while he rubbed her head. Amazing.

I finally got them into bed and we all three snuggled until I finally slept for about 30 minutes. Brent refused to turn out the light cuz he wanted to play and look at her. She is a beauty queen of cats. I’ve had cute cats, but never a beauty like this. A little royalty.

She snuggled right up to my neck on her own and fell asleep.

Brent with kitten in his pocket, photo by Lorelle VanFossenWe buried the kitten and came back to play with the new light in our life, and that is when the last clue came into play that proved to us that we had made the right decision. Lying on the bed, she suddenly went into “big tail.” This is something Dahni did at about 10pm most nights, like clockwork, until we started crossing time zones and screwing with his clock. He would jump up on the bed and his tail would shoot straight up with his back in an arch. The hair on his back would stand straight up and the short hair on this tail would fluff out a good couple of inches like a porcupine bristling, straight out from the tail bone, a bottle scrubber bristle. Dancing around on his toes, he would attack everything and nothing in a sideways bounce forward and backwards, hissing and growling and spitting. We knew to stay away from him for the 5-10 minutes he put on this show, so we’d warn “Big Tail” loudly and watch the antics from a distance.

Our new kitten jumps around tail straight up in the air and attacks everything, photo by Lorelle VanFossenWell, our little mistress of the night went into the sideways dance of “big tail” and Brent and I just looked at her and declared her an official VanFossen family member.

So enough sop. We are in love. She’s been with us now for 24 hours and we are experimenting with names. She is healthy as a horse, dog, and a few other animals, and an absolute joy. Unconditional love is back in our lives.

Tel Aviv, Israel