Can you feed the bully cat in a different room, Zenkitty?

Just roll with it, Connie. Fighting it only prolongs the pain. And accept offers of help if you need to. My sister ended up going through the majority of Rob's clothes. I couldn't face it.

Can you feed the bully cat in a different room, Zenkitty?

When I put him and his food in a different room and close the door, he forgets the food and wails and scratches at the closed door until he's freed. The other cats gather at the closed door as if in deep concern. No one eats. I'm currently feeding him in the kitchen and the other two in the dining room, but he just leaves his food and runs to theirs.

You get to be pissed at the universe, Connie.

Truer words...

When I really need to keep Harvey out of Sammie's dish, I sit in between them. Continually redirecting him to his dish is a pain, but it gets the job done.

It just dawned on me that my mother was the age I am now when my father died. She lasted another 25 years, and was pretty with-it till the last couple of years. Perhaps I'd better stop thinking of 53 as nearly Game Over. I need to get serious about finding someone to untangle my brain.

smonster and Nora and Kara's friends and family, I am so sorry. ~ma.

continued ~ma here, too. And health and work~ma to those who need it.

I haven't been here in the last week, and skipping. No hairpats needed, but a week ago, on Saturday, my great aunt who has been like a grandmother to me passed away. She died in the best possible way: in her home, surrounded in people she loved and loved her, and in the arms of one of her daughters. My mother was the nurse who took care of her, and another one of her nieces was the doctor who took care of her in her last days, so it all stayed in the family. She didn't suffer much, and she was coherent until a day before she died. I was there in her last hours.

She was an incredible person: a translator (who also took part in the translation of the dead sea scrolls into English), an academic, a teacher, an activist, a religious leader within her community, a feminist. She knew Greek and Latin and Italian and French and German on top of English and Hebrew. She was a student in Oxford during WWII. She demonstrated until she was 85+ for equality for all and for environmental justice, and funded more charities and causes than anyone can ever count. She was a true woman of action, volunteered with so many people and causes, and I never saw her rant on anything. When something bothered her, she just did something about it, and a lot of times, told no one about it.

I love and miss her very much. We need more people like her in the world.

(In other news: I hate, hate, hate, hate what my government is doing in Gaza, and what racism is doing to my country. And there's nothing I can do that will make it stop. My soul is heavy with pangs of conscience and guilt. There's really very little I can do (occasional demonstration, walking with anti-racism stickers in my bag to cover with them racist stickers), and it hardly seems enough these days).

She sounds like the world lost an amazing and wonderful woman, Shir. I'm sorry. But glad she had loved end to such a life.

I need to get serious about finding someone to untangle my brain.

I think brain untangling is a good thing whenever you need but especially given what the world has thrown at you, Connie. Life goes on for a while, might as well try to make it as good as possible.

That said, I'm absolutely ignoring that I should find someone to untangle my own brain. So it's easy advice but a difficult actual step.

Shir, sounds like she lead a wonderful life. Sorry for your loss.

Been watching the news on this end, and trying not to worry. I'm guessing (Hoping!!) that your sister was not called up for duty. Is she free and clear? Hope so.

OK, universe, I was supposed to be blissfully well-established into menopause. Who's fucking bright idea was it to have this start, today of all days?