Back to Work in Packrat

…in all sorts of ways.

Memorial. My friend lived and worked an hour away from the settlement where we have a lot of relatives, including my counterpart and his wife. My mom and I rode to the service with them; my counterpart gave the closing prayer. The Celebration of Life program had scheduled speakers from all the areas of my friend’s interest then went to an open mike. I hadn’t planned to say anything, but my counterpart stood and motioned for his wife and me to join him on stage. We all spoke. I don’t remember everything I said (when words come from my heart they seem to bypass my brain) but his mother thanked me on her way to the podium at the end and again when she came back by.

In these days of mourning and remembering I missed him, knowing that now it’s really over, and he’s gone. My mom commented how full and robust a life he had, and everyone mentioned his laughter and how his booming voice meant his conversation with one person became everyone’s conversation.

I was surprised to see pictures I’d taken included in the photo montage amid all the family pictures. His sister gave me her email address, and I thought I’d tell her a few stories behind the pictures (where we were, what we were doing).

In one picture my friend and his cohort (someone had mentioned that they were talked about almost as if they were one person with their names always combined, like TomandJerry) and the state archaeologist were excited at having found rocks used to make red paint. My liaison (and relative) and I were with them because they had taken us to see one of our historical sites and had planned to examine a rock drawing that can only be seen when the creek is dry or low.

I’m scared to death of snakes and figured a creek bed is Snake Haven.

I trailed behind everyone else because they walked on through with no qualms, but I had to have a big stick to sweep leaves and twigs around in case snakes were hiding beneath them. At one point everyone crossed a big fallen tree, but I had to stop and thump around on it because a snake might have been disturbed by their activity and would pop out when my turn to cross came.

Anyway, they found the rocks and were so excited about it I had to take their picture. Then my liaison pointed behind me and exclaimed, “There’s one!” I screamed and jumped out of my skin. My friend laughed and said, “It’s a rock, Eriu. Are you sure you’re an Indian?”

More sadness. While we were away my oldest cat Bastet died. I can’t say her passing was totally unexpected; she started showing signs of aging before my 19-year-old cat, M’ow, had. A couple of years ago I bought a small Bastet statue, which now sits on my desk, as a way to keep her near me since she had been named for that goddess (Bastet is the Egyptian goddess of joy and protector of women), and I felt the time of our parting was closing in. Still, I wish I could have been there with her. She had been part of my family for 12 years, acquired as a stray at my former workplace. She had a sweet nature (M’ow had cattitude). The funny thing is she didn’t like cats but loved dogs.

She had good days right up to the end and just went in her sleep. She hadn’t been sick; she just died of old age before her quality of life suffered. I’m glad for that.

She used to look as if she were roaring when she made no sound at all. I liked to hold her and sing song, “I love this cat.” I still love that cat and will miss her terribly, already do.

Winter has finally arrived. On the way to the settlement, where we were staying, we hit snow that got heavier the closer we got to our destination. I hadn’t winterized my dog house yet and had to do that yesterday as well after taking the rental car back and burying Bastet.

Newspaper. I know a couple of dances are coming up, and I’m thinking of other ideas for articles. On the weekends I just sit and vegetate, which is fine sometimes but not as the regular routine. I always enjoy the dances and now have a reason to go rather than talking myself out of it to watch baking shows or Westerns on tv.

Contract. CLB explained that the contract with Everyman’s company can be ended at any time and won’t be final until the three departments affected get a say in what can be done and how. I’m still not happy about it and still angry with Everyman, but at least we’re not left out totally. His tribal chairman is a friend of mine (she used to work in this field) and I’m going to call her and get her opinion. Would their tribe have signed something like this?

CLB said he told Smart Man, “Get Eriu to chill.out!” Smart Man can’t - he’s just as upset about it as I am. But he’ll be the contact person and as such can insure that the directors of the three departments will be in on everything.

Misc. We may have hit snow, but it gave us winter scenes as we listened to Christmas carols. I feel a stirring of Christmas spirit this year and figure I should get a new camera to take pictures of all the Christmas activity. :-)