While I have never tried to hide my political leanings, I have tried to keep them out of this blog to a large extent. But something happened yesterday that really, really bothers me, and I just have to talk about it.

First, a little background. For what seems like centuries, I have been getting wild emails and hearing ridiculous stories about Barack Obama, and these over-the-top stories are being used as the rationale to vote for McCain. This is not meant to imply that there are no valid reasons for preferring McCain; of course there are. But when people start talking about Obama being the head of a sleeper cell, or something equally as ridiculous, the only conclusion I can make is that the bottom line is racism, plain and simple. I have made a lot of people squirm by commenting that I know I'm voting for Obama, I just haven't decided if I'll vote for his black half or his white half. And I have begun to think I would respect people more if they simply came out and said they will not vote for a black man because of his race.

I was talking to one of my neighbors, a woman who was born in an Asian country. She and her husband lived in Louisiana for a couple of years, and she has told me how much prejudice she encountered there, and how much it hurt. So imagine my surprise when she said "If it weren't for the economy, Obama wouldn't even be running. Everyone knows blacks can't run things."

If you are discriminated against, and then want to discriminate against others, what does that make you? Is it only racism when it's someone else's point of view? She came as close as anyone has to admitting her real reason for being against Obama, and you know what? -- I don't respect her more, after all.

The insurance adjuster finally showed up yesterday. He said they had just now given him our name, even though we have called repeatedly and he has been on our street several times. Anyway, he gave us a check on the spot to get the repairs started. He said the approved method is to tear out every bit of sheetrock, which includes tearing out the kitchen and bathroom cabinets and my built-in bookcases, but not, oddly enough, the brick hearth. Then he said that the company would give us the money to do it, but whether we do it or not is up to us.

I honestly don't think there is any mold growing behind my kitchen cabinets. I don't see any sign of it where there is sheetrock and not wood, like under the sink. And my beautiful granite consigned to the landfill? --- arrgh! The builder drilled holes in the kickplates under the cabinets. No one has seen any sign of mold under the cabinets, and our plan has been, and probably still is, to use a microbial spray, then repair the kickplate.

I don't think I ever mentioned here How I Saved the New Furniture. (I feel heroic, so it needs a title like a serial installment of Wonder Woman.) The Professor had already left town and I was trying to deal with everything. I really didn't expect a storm surge but I was afraid some rain water might seep through the patio doors and damange my brand new Ethan Allan furniture -- the very first good furniture I have ever owned. So while my 88-year-old mother sat and watched helplessly, I shoved 2 encyclopedia volumes under each leg of the couches, then rolled up the Oriental rug and hefted that on top of a couch. When the Professor tried to take the rug off the couch by himself, he couldn't. He said he will be very careful about picking any fights with me now that he realizes how strong I am. (Still Mitey Mite!) He told the story to the insurance agent, whose response was "Then you'll need to claim the encyclopedias." I hadn't even considered that, any more than I considered claiming all the yarn that got wet.

There are some small rewards for all this hassle. My vacuum burned up and when I went to get a new one (some things won't wait for the insurance guy), I discovered that they now come in red. If you have to vacuum, you might as well have something bright and cheerful to do it with. The dryer, which we think was the main culprit for letting water in the house through the outside vent, still works but we're pretty sure it won't for long. I intend to buy my very-first-ever-in-my-whole-life matching washer and dryer. And I can get those in red, too!

Chula is feeling better now, too. I had to force the vet to do a urinalysis and the poor little cat had a very bad bladder infection. Between the fluids to rehydrate her and the antibiotic, she started feeling good enough to notice that she hasn't eaten well lately. She is making up for it now, demanding food every 2 or 3 hours. That's okay, I'm just so glad she's going to live.

Well. We are now in the waiting period of hurricane recovery. We are waiting on the insurance adjuster to look at the damage and officially proclaim that it indeed was damage caused by a hurricane. We are waiting on the builder to replace the sheetrock we had to tear out, and tape, bed, texture and paint it. Then we will wait on the floor guys, and, after that, the furniture guys. My night tables now have cloven feet and had to be replaced. My big antique trunk that I have used as an end table for at least 30 years got wet and grew amazingly colorful mold. While I was buying a new end table I bought a coffee table to go with it, since the one I've had for at least 40 years just wasn't cutting it. And then I saw this exquisite little red Chinese chest and I gave into temptation. For various reasons, I went for years and years withour buying any furniture, and now I've fallen off the wagon and seem to be bingeing. And it feels so good!

Last weekend we went to visit the Professor's daughter & family in Mystic CT. What a charming little town! And how amazing to be able to drive just a little while and be in a different state. We were a little ahead of peak leaf color, but we saw this:


They are having a great time seeing all the places they've read about in history books, and I am hopeful that the Professor will now be willing to go east sometimes.

Chula has been getting progressively worse since we evacuated. She had a really stressful experience then where she spent about 36 hours hiding from dogs, no food or water and so much adrenaline that she went feral. She is 16, but she is a tough old broad like her owner, (excuse me, I mean staff). The vet gave her fluids and an appetite stimulant, which didn't seem to have any effect until the Professor fixed t-bone steak. I almost lost a finger when I offered a piece of steak to Chula! She has some symptoms, but the vet thinks they are all treatable. When I was searching for her during the evacuation I told myself she would probably die, anyway, but I didn't want her to die alone and terrified. Now I have raised the bar and I want her to be active and happy and content. I figure she's got another 2 - 4 years in her. Like I said, she's a tough old broad.