Similarities

Last summer, I posted some obvious differences between the two cultures we live in that I observed right away upon arriving to the States. This summer I took note of the many things that just seem to be the same all around the world:

1. After a very long and involved battle with a cockroach invasion in our house in the Middle East, we came 6,000 miles to the West and had a very long and involved battle with horse flies. Life has troubles wherever you may find yourself.

2. From the pick up games of football {soccer} that happen in the street in front of our house in the Middle East to the pick up games of basketball that happen in the driveway in front of our house in the States. No matter the language, age, or family background, if there are kids playing, other kids will join. Don't you wish adults would learn more lessons from kids?

3. Around dusk {cue the creepy music}, anywhere around the world, you must be very careful while driving. Did you know there are 60,000 deer/car crashes in our State every year? Did you know that there are 60,000 trashy cats that live by our dumpster in the Middle East? Watch out. I'm not really sure {and don't want to find out} which would cause more damage on a car - a deer or a trashy cat. I do believe the trashy cat would cause more psychological damage.

4. McDonalds, Burger King, Pizza Hut - Why, oh why have these places invaded the entire known world?

5. Of all the places we have traveled in the world, I have observed that for the majority of the population, life is very much about family. A job that provides. Health. Peace. Love. When looking at these factors, the world really does become a small place.

Here's to enjoying your small slice of life in the world today!

Horse flies and all. {swat}

Mummified Cats

We had planned a spring break trip to go see the pyramids in Egypt.

We decided to cancel the trip. 

{although I bet we could get killer deals at hotels}

{maybe we should reconsider}

{I know, my bargain shopping skills will stop at nothing: Overthrown government? So what!}

I digress.

Thankfully, while we were in London we spent a day at the British Museum. THAT is an amazing museum. {and free!} It seems that England has plundered the world. {but don't tell anyone else, ok?} They had bits and pieces from every civilization.

Our kids loved the tour/treasure hunt through the Nile River display. They really enjoyed the mummies. {Gross. Icky. Kids would dig that!}

Well, as we walked past the display of mummified cats, I giggled.

I told my hubby on the way out that I had decided on a souvenir I wanted from our trip to London...a mummified cat.

He said quietly, under his breath..."Those are the best kind."

{That guy is funny!}

So, as a tribute to not being able to see the pyramids in Egypt this year, but to seeing the mummified cats from Egypt in the British Museum {that is a ridiculous tribute!} 

I present to you, my favorite Middle East trashy cat moments:

1. the cat who has a record: breaking and entering

2. the cats that have Internet
3. the suicidal cat

4. the cat with bling

A Trashy Treasure

As you know, our Trashy Cats are everywhere getting into mischief. Though I hate dislike cats, I must admit, our trashy cat neighbors have provided hours of free hilarity over the years. This is the stupidity funniness we came home to:

I think this is the daughter of Hitler, if you remember him.

My daughter now calls her the 'kitty with a necklace'.

I will call her Jackie O.

This actually explains a lot. When we came home and found evidence that a rat had been sneaking around in our house...it made me wonder...what do the trashy cats do everyday? Can't they at least help to control the pest population?

Nope.

The cats are too busy admiring themselves along side the shinny trash cans.

Delighted with their new accessories.

A Trashy Tribute

There is a marathon here in Jordan that is becoming more and more popular.

(I'm not really sure why.)

The race involves relay teams that run from the Dead Sea down to the Red Sea. The run starts on the shores of the Dead Sea at an altitude of -415m (1,361 feet) below sea level. From there teams make their way through the desert valleys to an altitude of +120m (393 feet) above sea level before descending towards the shores of the Gulf of Aqaba 242 Km (150 miles) away at sea level.

Crazy, huh?

The winners this year completed the race in 14 hours and 13 minutes. My crazy runnin' hubby ran the race in 2005.

This year was another special year. No, my hubby did not run. His running career was sidelined by an injury after the 2007 Chicago Marathon. Instead, a friend of ours ran. And look what he ran for:
Maybe I'll organize a marathon for our neighborhood trashy cats. I'll drop them (all 4 million of them) off in the desert and see how far they can make it!

Survival of the Fittest

The real problem with trashy cats is that survival of the fittest is the rule of the cement jungle. Truly only the meanest, nastiest, biggest, and fittest survive. Evidently our local trashy cats are not quite up to that caliber.

Last night one died in front of our house.

Sure enough, Hitler’s second kitten (and who was the only remaining of four) was rummaging in the dumpster, when a car drove by and spooked it. Evidently Hitler had not practiced car evasion enough with the inexperienced kitten, and he jumped right into the path of an oncoming 86 Mercedes. I did see a slight drift of the steering wheel towards the feline.

The Mercedes won.

Seems I’m not the only one with a dislike and somewhat sadistic lean towards these satanic beings.

There were reports by the neighborhood boys of an eyeball rolling in the street, as well as several other gory details. The boys gathered around and ceremoniously gave it a respectful burial by throwing it into the dumpster via its tail. Hitler wandered around as if nothing happened. No grieving, no remorse, and the pride stayed clear of the dumpster.

I hate cats.




Hitler and his spouse (thus far unnamed) are now kitten-less. No doubt there’ll be some late nights and another litter of trashy cats to deal with soon. If survival of the fittest is in play here, it seems that Hitler might have to pick a different mother for his offspring. Their first litter didn’t have the right stuff evidently.

Trashy Cats Birthday

There was such an overwhelmingly positive response to my first series, Apricot Lady has invited me back to continue the cat saga. I think I have accidentally served to stimulate a global anti-cat movement. If you want your voice heard, leave comments!

Last week, we celebrated our son’s birthday. We had a smashing good party complete with pizza, cake and little boy games involving matchbox cars. After we had said goodbye to all the guests, we returned to the back patio to begin cleanup, only to discover the local pride beat us to the punch. They were engorging themselves on cake bits and pizza crusts, and we had to fight our way in with brooms and dustpans to clean up the mess.

After all was tidied up, the boy did his nightly duty of taking the trash to the dumpster. The bag was unusually full given the activities of the evening, and as he heaved the bag into the rolling cess collector, it broke, and half of the contents dumped in the street.

Meanwhile, I was in the underground garage, and heard yelling as the boy came running down the ramp ‘Dad come help! I spilled the trash, and there’s cats everywhere!’ The poor boy had run for his life as the cats swarmed on the new found find released from its enclosure.

When I arrived there Hitler, mom and baby (along with some other cats I haven’t seen lately) were fighting over chocolate and pepperoni. There was a real turf war going on, and we were right in the thick of it. (incidentally Hitler used to have 2 kids, one of the kittens passed away… tragic slip and fall off a high wall, which necessitated a tasteful, respectful burial in a plastic bag in that exact dumpster).

Now, most locals would just leave the trash in the street, in fact most people don’t even walk it down to the dumpster. But, we, being model citizens, and wanting to set a good example, of course had to clean up our mess.

I did my best growl and kicked a few cats out of the way, due justice from an angry father for scaring his son, and we commenced cleanup with rocks at the ready in one hand to throw at any advancers, and pizza boxes as dust pan/shovels in the other.

We concluded and the cats rushed back to finish the cleanup, and some hopped into the dumpster to dig for treasure. As we returned to the safety of our home, I couldn’t help but think the jungle in Africa might be a safer place for my children to grow up.

I'll leave you with this...

Trashy Cats (3)

A word from Apricot Lady: When I graciously allowed my dear hubby write up our trashy cat stories, I figured we would get some hate mail from our cat loving readers. Never did I guess the hate mail would come from the trashy cats. Things have settled down here a bit as far as the cat invasion goes, so I will timidly present to you the third and final installment. If you don't hear from me in the next 24 hours...please send some authorities to our house...I am scared of what those cats could do to me!

Driving in our town presents a great opportunity for stress outlet, and sometimes it’s the cause of stress. Since I have such displeasure for cats, when cats try to cross the street in front of the car it definitely becomes the former. It’s not like I’m mean to animals, but if a cat comes in front of the car, I’m certainly not going to go out of my way to avoid it, and I may drift one way or another without endangering my passengers of course. In our previous car, I kept tick marks on the stick shift of all the cats I ran over, akin to hunter’s tracking their kills on the barrel of their rifles. To date, I’ve hit 4. Three were somewhat deliberate, one was a complete fluke...

Since the chicken incident, the family has taken to cheering me on whenever they spot cats near the street. My son even thinks driving on the sidewalk should be justifiable. One fine evening we were making our way home from a visit, and I turned the corner down a narrow street near our house. This particular side street has several trash dumpsters on the side, and is a hot spot for cat turf wars.

That night, it became hallowed ground for a very disturbed trashy cat. As I turned the corner, and accelerated down the street, we came up on the first dumpster. Since it was night, the headlights were on, which provided us a distinct view of a flash of white and black fur, and a matching horrified gaze emanating from a pair of glowing evil eyes as they descended right in front of the car. This particular feline had evidently had enough with dumpster living, and threw itself from the tallest dumpster it could find, right in front of our car. It was the only cat suicide I’ve ever witnessed.

I felt bad for a second, almost letting myself grieve the sad passing of a distressed trashy cat. But that was wiped away quickly as cheers erupted from the backseat. The kids thought it was great that I didn’t even have to try, as if the stars had aligned to provide revenge for our missing dinner. It seems hatred for trashy cats may have strong genetic linkage. Passed proudly from my father, I’ve succeeded in instilling this important character trait in my children. Again, I don’t want to sound like some sadistic animal hater, lest PETA and Greenpeace get together and throw red paint on my car in protest. But cats here are kind of like squirrels or skunks in the country. There’s too many of them, and sometimes, natural selection just needs to take place.

I trust you’ve enjoyed the mini-series and that I haven’t damaged the reputation of Apricots Today permanently. As the disclaimer states, the author of Apricots Today does not necessarily endorse or condone the opinions expressed herein, and I’ve gotten somewhat of an earful for my sometimes graphic portrayals and choice of wording. I do thank Apricot Lady though for the opportunity to share, it’s been real.

Cats Have Internet Access

The cats are retaliating.

Yesterday, a trashy cat on our porch bit one of our friends. (she bled, but is okay)

Yesterday, the door bell rang. When I opened it, no one was there. I looked down and a small trashy cat was making a dash into our house. I had to kick it out.

This morning, Hitler (mug shot below) walked right into our house via the porch door.

Trashy Cats 3 may be postponed if more cat rebellion occurs today. Stand by...

Trashy Cats (2)

This continues a 3 part series on trashy cats guest written by husband. I take no responsibility for the opinions expressed in this guest editorial. Please direct any hate mail or other correspondence to him.

For those of you that haven’t sent hate mail, and can take some more negative cat publicity …

One fine day, I had procured (as a good husband) the delineated list of food items on my way home from work. I brought a couple baked chickens, which are a great part of living here. They come right off the spit, seasoned, cooked and ready to eat. When I got home, the aroma was intoxicating, and we were all getting hungry! After placing the chickens and other foodstuffs on the counter, I left the room to use the facilities.

Shortly after, I heard a scream as Apricot Lady passed by the kitchen and witnessed a trashy cat infiltrate the house through the window, pick up a baked chicken whole in its jaw and snarl as it defended it’s 'kill'. As I came back in the kitchen there was a tug of war going on between feline and female, as the cat was trying to weasel the chicken carcass out between the bars of the window. Needless to say, the cat won, and our chicken was strewn in bits all over the counter and floor. The cat finally scampered away when it saw it was outnumbered, and out-volumed by the screams of my distraught wife.

The thought of any animal walking around inside my house, especially on my kitchen counter, let alone one who spends most of its life in a dumpster, walking in trash, makes my stomach turn. That very night, I went out with my smallish son and bought a couple plastic BB guns, which we quickly acquainted ourselves with as defenders of our homestead.

The cat gets points in my book for bravery, cunning, and boldness. I must admit, if I were in his shoes, I’d take the risk for a bite of juicy fresh cooked chicken, given most my meals come from trash. However, it is just further proof that cats are a scourge on humankind, the worst kind of moochers. That cat actually thought it was entitled to our chicken, looking at the world as if we existed for it! I think most cats look at life this way.

I hate cats.

A brief note from Apricot Lady: I have three things to say:

1. Is there no end to the defilement of my kitchen?

2. Thank you blog readers who are giving names to our trashy cats! I will now call the trashy cat posted in our last post 'Hitler'. He is on my porch EVERY morning.

3. This is when I knew the cat conquest had gone too far! So disturbing for a mother.

Trashy Cats (1)

I’ve asked my husband to guest write a short series on cats (really, he begged me to let him do it). I take no responsibility for the opinions expressed in this guest editorial, but do find it quite amusing!

Thank you to my dear wife for giving me complete editorial freedom on this series. I’ve decided it’s time to speak out about trashy cats.

Though many of you may enjoy furry felines as pets in your homes, even consider them part of your family, here in our neck of the desert, felines are trash. Well, litterally (pun intended) cats here live on our trash. They are inbred, awful fur balls that solely exist because of our refuse. Even worse, they are mostly genetically mutated aliens many with 3 legs, mangy fur, misplaced eyes, bitten off ears and missing tails. Cats here are not pleasant. My hilarious wife often refers to them as ‘suicide bombers’. There are cat turf wars over neighborhood trash bins that many times attract a crowd. They try to intimidate small children, who mostly run or throw rocks. One cat that came around our neighborhood had a set of jaws that gave me the shivers. I don’t know who its father was, but I suspect the mommy snuck off to the zoo on more than one occasion.

There are two sounds that are prevalent in the streets where we live: The call to prayer… on time, five times a day and seven times throughout Ramadan … and cats. Through the night we often hear wailing and whining that can only mean one of two things… either they’re fighting over last night’s dinner scraps and dumpster rights, or they’re in the process of making more genetically inbred evil mutants. The other night, it was the later, right outside our bedroom window. I had to politely, albeit with some embarrassment, shoo them away well after midnight.

I must confess I don’t like cats much. Moving here has only inflamed that passion, passed on to me by my father who instilled in me a displeasure for cats early on. This is one of my favorite You-Tubes:

Though there were rumors Ford was lambasted by PETA for this series of commercials on the Sportka… I applaud their bold stance and I am sure no animal was really harmed in the making.

This series will continue shortly with a couple stories that I just find disturbing regarding the bold nature and wily ways of felines in our sandbox. I think by next week, you’ll join my deep seething displeasure for trashy cats. Bob Barker…come help us control the pet population!