My Tropical Soul...

Plumeria's on the Pool Deck
Picture Taken May 27,2006

The Countess has maintained her rigid grip on my blog for the time being, and I must continue blogging for fear of life. While she calls me a "biatch" I prefer the designation "You saucy minx!". Oh well, semantics are semantics. Let me blog now with a story of the past and attach the above picture taken today as a reference point.

March of 2004 was a pretty low point in my life. I had not been able to finish a course of study at a couple of schools I had gone to in the past few years. So,I gave up on getting an education for the time being and felt that 'going to work' would be the best solution to the great big gigantic question of 'What do I do with my life'. In January of 2004 I started working at a retail store in a position I don't care to discuss for a wage that I definitely do not care to discuss. It was the most soul-killing, confidence-robbing, depressing job I could have ever taken up. Yet, it was all I had at the time. On top of being harassed, disregarded, ignored, and disrespected in this position I had to deal with the biatch of a Northeast winter that helps propel the seasonal depression within me. I knew I had to get back to school, I knew I had to find friends, and I knew that someday I would need to get to a warmer climate. These were the days before my Poppy got ill (which seems like an entire lifetime ago in itself - I can barely remember those days at this point, sadly enough) - so living at home wasn't nearly the heightened/high strung living situation that it is today. All I had at this point were my dreams. My dreams of being somewhere warmer, happier, and more "me". Oftentimes in the years since puberty my dreams have been all that I have been able to hold on to at different periods in time - the promise of a brighter tomorrow. But nowhere was this more true than in that winter of 2004. I want to cry just thinking about those days. I'll save the details from the world, but it was hard to just get through the day back then.

Having had successfully grown my first Amarylis bulb around this time, I wanted to challenge myself and try growing a plant more tropical. Of course - anyone who knows me knows that my heart and soul belong to warm weather, the feeling of sand under my toes, the rustle of the ocean, the sway of exotic palms in the wind, and the shining of the sun on my face. In my research for a more tropical plant to grow, I found out that there was a plant gaining popularity with those on the web called a 'Plumeria'. Apparently Plumeria were the tropical plants that, when in blossom, grow the flowers that are strung together to form a Hawaiian Lai. Obviously they are native to Hawaii and other tropical climates. I had never heard of said plant until this time, but I just knew right then and there, reading the gardenweb forums that I had to have one. For someone with nary a green thumb on his hands, I had to be crazy. But, it was something my heart just wanted - the way in which you are drawn to another person that you just don't know why. So, I went onto Ebay of all places and won a bid for 40 Plumeria seeds from Thailand. (Thailand!). My mother thought I was absolutely insane and wondered if the US customs agents would come calling. I spent a good chunk of change (that I DEFINITELY didn't have!) on these seeds, but I just knew it would pan out to be money well spent.

I remember planting each little seed in it's own little container by the window in my room. Of course my mom "freaked out" because she is a control freak, and how dare I have all these little pots of dirt in my room. Hey - I could be like any normal number of STRAIGHT boys and had pots of POT in my room - but that was never me. Instead I was planting exotic tropical seeds. I think somewhere, Martha Stewart cries out for her long lost gay son.

Anyway, I was able to overcome the mom issue and try my hand at growing Plumeria's. About 33 ended up germinating. It was so much fun! You stuck the seeds into the ground, much like a maple tree gives off the "helicopter" seeds to be stuck into the ground. I then covered them with plastic cups (greenhouse effect) and misted them with water daily. Eventually my germinated Plumies sprouted up and I was on my way. Eventually, I was able to take them outside in about June/July of 2004 and see what would happen. I used the "survival of the fittest" technique and ended up with 3 solid seedling plants by October of 2004. Over the next year and a half I have shared two indoor winters with them, transplanting to larger pots (I just transplanted the smaller two today!), bugs, one plant being cut in half by the wind, loss of leaves, and nursing back to health. I have never gotten any blooms yet, and I don't know if I ever will. I don't even know what varieties they are, or if all three plants are of one type, two are one while the other is another, or if they are all a different type. Only time can tell me that. However, I do know that in the 2 years since I received those seeds in the mail I have been in love with Plumeria's. Living in Northern Westchester, NY is about the least ideal climate you could have for them, but yet I was able to grow them and I will continue to help them to grow. I don't need anyone else to tend to my garden; My Plumeria's are a sign that when I put my mind to it, I can tend to my own garden and make my own garden grow.

It's such a cathartic experience to me to be able to feel the soil in my hands, to be able to mist them, and to watch my Plumeria grow. They may be far smaller than they should be at this age if they were grown in a larger environment or if a more expert grower had stuck their green thumb in them - but they are all mine. And for someone who has never had much to hold on to, at least independently - that means a lot. It may be three Charlie Brown Plumeria Trees, but they are my very special and dear Charlie Brown Plumeria Trees. I vowed when I planted the seeds in March of 2004 that someday my life would grow better and stronger, and that when we were both better and stronger enough we would move to a warmer, more hospitable environment. I have had a lot of ups and downs over the past two years, but I know that I'm moving in the right direction and moving toward where I need to go. Both my Plumerias and myself have seen a lot of hard times, yet a lot of growth since the dark days of March, 2004. I hope to someday soon end up in the land of sunshine and take my Plumeria's with me. Our souls are being called there! :-)

The Costs of War...

Sunny Limps Along in His 'Cool Blue' Cast.

Picture taken May 23, 2006

Sunny is Not Amused.

Picture taken May 26, 2006

Can't You Leave Me Alone and Just Let Me Sleep?.

Picture taken May 26, 2006

As in all wars - whether in a Cold War, or by direct physical strike - there are always costs to be paid. With the conflict between the Countess Bedelia, dear Uncle Alexis, and myself - poor Stanley and Sunny the Cat had to be the ones to pay said costs. I can only shudder to imagine what became of poor Stanley, what with his bloody hair being the last thing I have seen from him to prove he was alive. Sunny the Cat is another matter entirely...

One week ago on Friday, May 19, Sunny the Cat was outside in the drizzling rain doing whatever he does and going wherever he goes when he demands to be let out. My father, mother, and myself were all busy getting our bags packed for our weekend trip to Oneonta, NY for my sister Dana's graduation from college. Already running late, we were aflutter trying to cram as many items of clothing and toiletries into our bags as could be allowed. Well, my mother and I were busy packing, I should say - my dad was sitting on the couch watching tv, haha. While dad was sitting on the couch he heard very LOUD cat cries coming from outside. Now, a red cat has been known to come by from time to time to bug Sunny - but they normally just stare each other down and hiss a bit, without getting hurt. It's much like a bitchy 'catfight' at a gay club. Both queens can talk a loud talk, but any conflict is left to limp wristed slaps that result in spilled Cosmos and messed up hair as the worst of the damage inflicted. This time it was different. My dad didn't actually see the perpetrator - if it was the red cat or something more sinister, but he saw a figure run off in a hurry into the woods. Most likely it was whatever live specimen Uncle Alexis had sent to me in the mail. Poor Sunny - I guess alligator attacks are not relegated to just those depressed Latina's living in South Florida!

Now, I wish I could paint the scene for you as it happened. My dad told my Mom and I about the conflict, how he found Sunny covered in mud and crying, and brought him inside. Apparently one of his paws was bleeding profusely. Dad put many pieces of paper towel on his paw and stopped the foot from bleeding. He said Sunny was walking around fine, and we could continue getting ready to go on our trip to Oneonta. The original plan was to just let Sunny and his sister Misty stay in the house by themselves for the 3 days we were going to be gone - with plenty of food, water, and a clean literbox. They should have been fine fending for themselves for 2 and a half days. Well, a half hour later when we went to go leave, I couldn't find Sunny. I looked in all the usual hiding spots - behind the couch, under the chair, in the garage, in the liquor cabinet, and...nothing. Sunny was missing. Yet, we knew he couldn't possibly have gotten outside. I called my mother in to help look for Sunny. A few minutes later we heard crying and - Sunny emerged. We still have no idea where he went to go hide, but he emerged from out of nowhere in the middle of the family room, but...he couldn't walk! He kept trying to stand up, but the opposite back leg of the one that was bloody was turned sideways and he would limp and fall over when he tried to get up. My dad wanted to leave him like this, but my mother and I protested. While we were supposed to be long on the road to get to Dana's dinner on Friday night, we instead ended up going to the Yorktown Animal Hospital to see what was wrong with Sunny.

The vet was very nice. The doctor examined Sunny and said that she would need to keep him overnight so that they could take blood, shave one of his legs (ooh, la, la - Jeremy!), and give him an Xray. Again, my dad protested like a little baby and didn't want to spend money on Sunny. My mother and I had our way and we made sure the vet would give him the best possible care. So, Misty stayed in the house all by herself, Sunny stayed in the vet for the weekend, and my parents and I headed up to my sister's for what was a lovely graduation weekend.

On Monday we got Sunny back. I had no idea what I was going to find when I returned home from my late night at school, but the proof is in the pictures above. Poor Sunny had to wear the much dreaded "cone" so that he wouldn't bite off the wrapping around his bloody paw. Apparently whatever animal he fought with shattered one of his nails and he needed it protected. His other back leg had been shaved completely down, and also had a big bite taken out of it by the predator. Over the course of these next few days my mom has been his nurse, as she crushes up his antibiotics in his cat food solution and feeds it to him by spoon. I have played "Nurse Jesse" as I am the one responsible to feed him his acidophilus medicine. I think that helps make his stomach less bothered from the antibiotics. He also has this special cat litter made of recycled newspaper so that the regular sand/clay kind can't irritate his paws. He is thoroughly tired and exhausted from the ordeal and all the medicine he is on. Worse yet - I think Sunny the Cheeriest Cat EVER might even be depressed! (A) He does not like his 'Extreme Cat Makeover', (B) He can't go outside and chase chipmunks, (C) He can't clean himself b/c of the 'Cone', (D) Misty is kind of scared of him and won't even go near him (she hid under the chair the whole first day he was home), and (E)all the cats at 'The Kitty Cat Club' make fun of him for his new look. Poor Sunny!

I had no idea something like this could happen to such a friendly, happy, innocent cat as Poor Sunny! I have learned my lesson well Uncle Alexis and Countess Bedelia!!! I will never go so long without updating my blog ever again. I shudder in humility at the sheer power your Courts possess. I hope the alligator has gone back to South Florida where he belongs! In the meantime I'll take care of Sunny, hope for his speedy recovery, and for the love of God keep updating my blog!!!

The Winds of War...

I think I am just nearly escaping the end of the Second Cold War by writing this blog entry. Not since the 'Cuban Missle Crisis of 1962' have cold war tensions risen so dangerously close to actual conflict as they have by my not posting a blog entry. Although a pre-emptive strike was never made, all signs pointed to war...

This morning I received, by armed guardsman, a 192 page document from the Royal Court of the Countess Bedelia. For not posting a blog (and especially promised said individual blog dedicated to her favor, I was being threatened. Oh, sure - there was no mention of actual imminent conflict, but you could feel it in the air. Contained in this document was the familiar phrase, "Diplomacy seems to have failed. Other options being considered." This scathing remark spoke volumes. I couldn't read the document cover to cover, but I found mentions of economic sanctions and oil embargos. Remember kiddies - cripling a society of their vital resources necessary to survival is as akin to a declaration of war as any. All prada handbags and gucci sunglasses within my principality of the Northeast Sector of the Court of Mrs. Astor were to be confiscated and burned in a mass public ceremony. By far the most bravada came when The Countess Bedelia's letter proclaimed the intent to colonize my territory if I did not post a blog immediately. I could picture the villagers being raped and pillaged, the sacred jewels being stolen, and all the scared gay boys running about in fear of losing their right to shoes. I could not let such a thing happen to my principality of the Court of Mrs. Astor in the North East.

However, all was not right internally either. Over this very past weekend I also received some strange gifts from The Mrs. Astor herself. I received, by courier, a large package with airholes containing the warning label "Caution: Live Specimen Inside". When I saw a genuine Faberge egg dangling from the box, I knew it meant trouble. I immediately had the courier move the box to the woods and forgot about it. Unfortunately, I think the creature got a hold of Sunny the cat. (More on this story at a future point in time). That's right - my own Mrs. Astor, that whom I have sworn my alegiance to has threatened me with the prospect of civil war unless I updated my blog. I was even relinquished "to the bottom" of internet detention. Not that I have a problem of being relegated "to the bottom" of things, but you know. Lol. I was being attacked on two fronts - both Domestically (Mrs. A.) and Internationally (The Countess). However, I thought that maybe the gift from the Mrs. Astor was just a friendly joke, my Internet Dunce Cap a gag, if not a proverbial warning. Unfortunately, the gift I received from the courier today proved otherwise. In the mail, I received a handful of hair in a box, along with a poison apple containing a sharp bleeding knife down the middle. With it's luminescent shine, I knew who it belonged to right away - Stanley. That's right, in a last effort ditch of desperation to get me to update my blog, The Mrs. Astor has taken his very own loveable personal assistant Stanley hostage. The thought of him trapped in a little cubicle behind the bar, not being able to service the gentleman callers in the bathroom of the Palace with "The Stanley Steamer", and being subjected to lashings by Ditmar - it was all too much to bear. I couldn't picture poor Stanley being knicked in the ear with a knife and given a mullet haircut as punishment for my lack of updates. If the Imperialistic desires of the Countess Bedelia couldn't get me to update my blog, the detainment of poor Stanley surely would. In combination, I couldn't help but post. Believe me - it has taken a LOT to get me out of blog retirement for reasons I shall not go into, but these two loves of mine can do it if no one else can. Of course, the threat of war may have helped to nudge me just a bit!

Next up - If I don't upload my Miami pictures for Papa Ian, I don't even want to hear about the 700 mile wall that is going to be erected between the United States and our Southern Border with Mexico, complete with armed National Guardsmen for your pleasure. Oh wait - that is Bush's idea. But who knows what terror will be struck next. Sigh - will the conflict ever end? :)