From Where I Sit...

“Your cat will never threaten your popularity by barking at three in the morning. He won't attack the mailman or eat the drapes, although he may climb the drapes to see how the room looks from the ceiling." ~ Helen Powers

Cats are funny creatures.  I have a cat.  His name is Charlie.  He is a tiny little thing and doesn't weight more than ten pounds.  He has the most adorable little furry face.  He catches mice (when he wants to), ferociously pounces on moths (and sometimes eats them), likes to roll around on peoples smelly shoes (not sure why that is...), and generally just sit around looking fabulous. In short, I love him.

This will probably sound unrelated, initially, but I recently moved.  I am living with a friend of mine, about 10 minutes (okay, not even ten minutes) from my parents house.  The change of pace has been lovely for me. But my roommate has two small Pomeranian dogs... Okay, now it comes back to my cat.  I left my cat at my parents house because I wasn't sure if the dogs would be able to handle me AND my cat all at once.  So, I moved in by myself with the promise of bringing Charlie at a later date.

That date finally arrived! A week and a half ago, I moved Charlie in with me. It was quite an event. He hid under the bed and wouldn't come out, at first.  Then he came out and walked around in the dining room 'til one of the dogs barked his way and then he couldn't get out of there fast enough!! 

So for the last eleven days, I have been watching these two polar opposite species butt heads. Banjo will sniff his way into my room and peek under the bed, at which point, Charlie will hiss and Banjo will run out.  It's like a routine by now.  A dance where each one knows the steps by heart.  But I'm noticing little changes that make me hopeful that at some point, the lion and the lamb will lie down together.

For example, yesterday Banjo sauntered into the room and Charlie meowed, but remained under the bed and there was no hissing! Whoa! Then later, Charlie ventured out into the dining room.  I told him (because of course he understands me, right?) "You better watch out.  I think you probably don't want to go out that far." and he must have understood me because no sooner did the words cross my lips than he hightailed it outta there! haha Lolo's the smart one in this case since he just sits back and watches.  Or maybe he's just not brave because he rarely comes into the room where Charlie is.  He stands by the door and sniffs occasionally, but other than that, he keeps his distance.

That's not much progress you might say, but it is progress nonetheless, so... I'll take it. ;)

I was a Public School Kid and I'm Proud of That...

Growing up in Christian circles there always seemed to be a certain stigma about kids going to public school (It's still there). When I was in high school (*public*high school), I remember hearing from the pulpit about how evil public schools were. How they were just a breeding ground for sex, drugs and ungodly music. How if your kids went there, they would be barraged with offers of drugs and/or cigarettes. Every kid was in a gang and Evolution was taught in every class.

This view does not seem to have changed in the fourteen years since I graduated from high school. (You didn't know I was that old did you... ;) ) Just last year I sat in the nursery at my church while two ladies (who had no idea that I went to public school) discussed at length how they would never send their kids to public school because they wanted them to have a "real" education, where they wouldn't be confronted by worldly temptations. (On a side note, one of these same ladies had previously told me about her sister doing marijuana with kids from their Christian school, so take that for what you will). I just sat there quietly, not partaking in the conversation because I knew these ladies would be embarrassed if I spoke up that *I* was a product of this institution of the devil... Awkward.

I just want to state something here and that is this: I was never offered drugs. I was never even offered a cigarette. No one ever made inappropriate advances at me or tried to get me to join a gang. And no, no one was having sex in the hallways... (Sorry, couldn't resist a little inside joke haha) The truth is I could have been involved in some of these things if I had wanted to. But my parents raised me better than that. Those things and people are there if you look for them but I *chose* to surround myself with people who weren't involved in those things.

I *loved* high school. I was in the choir, and guess what... We sang secular music, but we also sang Christian music and music by classical composers like Vivaldi. And guess what else... Our school had a Bible study. Yep, that's right and you know what, even now at some school functions, they pray.

My parents were (and are, yes my brother is still in high school) very involved in everything we did. They looked over our schoolwork and there were times that my parents were uncomfortable with something and they would arrange with the teacher for me to do something else. I wasn't forced to do something that my family wasn't comfortable with.

Maybe there are some schools out there that are all the things the fundamentalist preachers like to harp on, but my school wasn't one of them. Was it perfect? No, of course not. There were (and are) issues that arise from time to time. But that can be said of anyplace.

So you can say that I'm a horrible person or that my parents didn't care about me because they didn't send me to a Christian school, but the truth is my parents did the best that they could for me and I love them for that and when it's all said and done, I'm very grateful for the quality of education that I received.