Forward
Forewarning, I am from a long line of Irish American women. I can remember my mother telling us stories from an early age. My grandfather (my mother’s father) would sit out on the front porch swing on his farm in Pike County, Kentucky when I was a small child and tell me stories about the court system. I loved his stories. I don’t think that I could make a good point without telling a story that gave an example of what I am talking about when it comes to something important. My close friends and I tell each other stories all of the time. We enjoy telling each other lots of stories because it gives us insight into how the other person's mind works. If anyone wants to get to know me well, they will learn to listen to my stories and look for meaning in those stories.
My New Years Resolution
It is that time of year again when people take a close up hard look at their lives and decide what bad habit needs to be ended or be changed. You have to decide what your New Year’s resolution will be and then try not to break it on the first day of the New Year.
I have decided not to try to befriend the wild kittens of the New Mexican political world. You will need to wish me a lot of luck with this resolution. You have to hear the story to understand the reference.
The Wild Kitten of the Appalachian Mountains
I grew up in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. I had an older sister who died when she was nineteen. Marie was a blond haired green eyed thin thing that loved any and every animal that walked, crawled or creped upon the planet. She mostly stayed around our house to dream of and play at being the perfect housewife. She was my mother’s perfect little republican lady. She was always bringing home some wild animal to ask my mother if she could keep it as a pet. I on the other hand was a wild child that knew the dangers of the wild world were I spent all of my time as a child. My mother always expected me to keep an eye on my older sister when it came to the wilds of the West Virginia’s mountains because she appeared to have no common senses when it came to dealing with the greater outdoors. I on the other hand had a healthy respect for all things wild and untamed maybe because I was one of them. I knew the difference between a wild animal and a tamed one. My mother knew her daughters only too well. The only hitch with my mother’s plan was that I had an independent nature and would run off by myself without thinking about Marie to enjoy the peace and quiet of the natural world. I though that it was her job to get herself home safely if I left her on a path close to home however my sister was more than happy to prove me dead wrong on that fact of life.
One day my sister and I were out walking the road near my family home. I picked that day to ditch my sister on the roadside and run off to be alone in the mountains. She found a small wild kitten beside the road that day. The animal had been born in the wild and did not know people. It had all of the instincts of a wild animal. It was a cute fussy little kitten and did not appear to have a mother. My sister decided to bring the cat home to ask my mother if she could keep it as a pet. I made it home before my sister that day. She showed up a little later than I covered in her own blood. That cute fussy little kitten had gone for my sister’s throat when she had tried to bring it home. She was lucky to be alive. It had not been a harmful animal but was just trying to protect itself from being taken out of the only world it knew. It may have appeared helpless and harmless but it was far from it. I refused to understand that day why my sister could be so stupid about that cat. She should have known that a wild animal like that one would not begin to understand what she was trying to do for it. She had to learn the hard way to not try to help wild animals no matter how sweet they acted toward her at first in the wild.
Some politicians are like that wild kitten, no matter how vulnerable or helpless or harmless they may appear, some of them do not want my help or to take my support and I like my sister should stop being so stupid. Hopefully, I have learned my lesson this year and will stop trying to help political kittens that will only turn on me if I try to invite them to my political parties and activities. It is high time that I learned the common senses approach to my New Mexican political urban environment. It is not that hard to tell the differences between the wild political kittens and the tamed ones. After being trained by my parents all of my live in how to be a political activist, I should know better than to trust wild untrained political kittens no matter how nice, sweet, cute, or harmless they appear to be at first. I will in the future leave it up to others to tame those people if in fact they can ever be tamed.
Forewarning, I am from a long line of Irish American women. I can remember my mother telling us stories from an early age. My grandfather (my mother’s father) would sit out on the front porch swing on his farm in Pike County, Kentucky when I was a small child and tell me stories about the court system. I loved his stories. I don’t think that I could make a good point without telling a story that gave an example of what I am talking about when it comes to something important. My close friends and I tell each other stories all of the time. We enjoy telling each other lots of stories because it gives us insight into how the other person's mind works. If anyone wants to get to know me well, they will learn to listen to my stories and look for meaning in those stories.
My New Years Resolution
It is that time of year again when people take a close up hard look at their lives and decide what bad habit needs to be ended or be changed. You have to decide what your New Year’s resolution will be and then try not to break it on the first day of the New Year.
I have decided not to try to befriend the wild kittens of the New Mexican political world. You will need to wish me a lot of luck with this resolution. You have to hear the story to understand the reference.
The Wild Kitten of the Appalachian Mountains
I grew up in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. I had an older sister who died when she was nineteen. Marie was a blond haired green eyed thin thing that loved any and every animal that walked, crawled or creped upon the planet. She mostly stayed around our house to dream of and play at being the perfect housewife. She was my mother’s perfect little republican lady. She was always bringing home some wild animal to ask my mother if she could keep it as a pet. I on the other hand was a wild child that knew the dangers of the wild world were I spent all of my time as a child. My mother always expected me to keep an eye on my older sister when it came to the wilds of the West Virginia’s mountains because she appeared to have no common senses when it came to dealing with the greater outdoors. I on the other hand had a healthy respect for all things wild and untamed maybe because I was one of them. I knew the difference between a wild animal and a tamed one. My mother knew her daughters only too well. The only hitch with my mother’s plan was that I had an independent nature and would run off by myself without thinking about Marie to enjoy the peace and quiet of the natural world. I though that it was her job to get herself home safely if I left her on a path close to home however my sister was more than happy to prove me dead wrong on that fact of life.
One day my sister and I were out walking the road near my family home. I picked that day to ditch my sister on the roadside and run off to be alone in the mountains. She found a small wild kitten beside the road that day. The animal had been born in the wild and did not know people. It had all of the instincts of a wild animal. It was a cute fussy little kitten and did not appear to have a mother. My sister decided to bring the cat home to ask my mother if she could keep it as a pet. I made it home before my sister that day. She showed up a little later than I covered in her own blood. That cute fussy little kitten had gone for my sister’s throat when she had tried to bring it home. She was lucky to be alive. It had not been a harmful animal but was just trying to protect itself from being taken out of the only world it knew. It may have appeared helpless and harmless but it was far from it. I refused to understand that day why my sister could be so stupid about that cat. She should have known that a wild animal like that one would not begin to understand what she was trying to do for it. She had to learn the hard way to not try to help wild animals no matter how sweet they acted toward her at first in the wild.
Some politicians are like that wild kitten, no matter how vulnerable or helpless or harmless they may appear, some of them do not want my help or to take my support and I like my sister should stop being so stupid. Hopefully, I have learned my lesson this year and will stop trying to help political kittens that will only turn on me if I try to invite them to my political parties and activities. It is high time that I learned the common senses approach to my New Mexican political urban environment. It is not that hard to tell the differences between the wild political kittens and the tamed ones. After being trained by my parents all of my live in how to be a political activist, I should know better than to trust wild untrained political kittens no matter how nice, sweet, cute, or harmless they appear to be at first. I will in the future leave it up to others to tame those people if in fact they can ever be tamed.
