Finally, A Quiet Moment
We’ve had a rough couple of weeks, starting with an emergency visit to a local vet clinic on a Sunday, then two weeks of constantly surveilling our sick cat. In the greater scheme of things, it’s not such a big deal, we say “it’s a first world problem,” but it creates a whirlwind of extra activity and extra work. We have three cats, and now, three separate places for them. We have our normal activities, and daily requirements. It all adds up.
Two of the cats, including the sick cat, are used to hanging out together, so they don’t understand why they have to be separated. Most of the time, things have been OK. Except at night. No sooner are we all settled, maybe even drifting into sleep, when one or another will start yowling, and scratching at a door, and you’d think it can only go on so long, but no, it keeps going on until we re-arrange things, and it’s good for thirty five minutes or mabe even an hour and then it all starts again.
So we’ve not been getting much sleep, and all this is exacerbated by the worries we have that our sick cat is not getting better. Today is a good day, but we are still worried not everything has resolved, and we have not gotten to the root of the problem.
But today IS a good day. One cat is at my feet, the sick cat, snuggled up and relaxed, which is a really good sign. The other cat, the one that joined our family at the same time as the sick cat is just feet away, on a stand looking out across the Bayou. Or, more likely, he is watching a lizard. He is crazy for lizards.
Most of the time, AdventureMan and I are pretty chipper. This cat illness, and the amount of time it is taking to resolve, and the amount of work involved in keeping cats all separated, and three litter boxes, and cleaning and all the laundry, and lugging the sick cat to the vet for x-rays and treatments, begins to wear on us. We aren’t so patient, with ourselves, with each other. We are tired. We take turns grabbing naps during the day, during cat quiet times, like right after feeding.
I barely know what is going on in the world, except that the Strait of Hormuz is not open, and our allies continue to grow in mistrust of our leadership and our lack of serious purpose. I’m too tired to get roused up as I believe the same insanity is likely to be reigning tomorrow.
I’m just thankful for these minutes of peace, that the sick cat is relaxed and sometimes you have to take what IS and say that this very minute is good enough.
Sunday at the Veterinary Emergency Clinic

My normal Sunday morning is quiet and contemplative. I get up early, whisper a quick “I’m going to church now” to Adventure Man and head out to what we jokingly call The Express Service. It’s for the quiet people who want to worship without a lot of embellishments and move on. Our priests are very good at respecting people’s time and creating a serene atmosphere for worship.
On my bathroom mirror is an ominous yellow sticky that says “wake me when you get up to talk about Uhtred.”
Uhtred is seeping blood and pus on his left flank. We know there are no options, we dress quickly to get to the Vet Emergency Care before the rest of the world awakes – we’ve been there before. It’s the only game in town, and weekends are busy.
We sign in. As they take Uhtred to the back to give him a superficial exam, a man comes in carrying a huge dog – maybe 80 pounds – who does not look like he is breathing.
We are updated on Uhtred’s condition and moved to a small room. A tech came by with water and an update – due to an all-hands-on-deck emergency, less urgent cases are on hold, Uhtred being a less urgent case.
We wait six hours. During these six hours, I take a break to go outside and walk; walking helps me calm my anxiety and keeps me sane. As I walk, I see another prostate dog come in on a stretcher, and desperate people with cages arriving. We’re under a high heat warning. It’s affecting our animals, too. We’re all desperate. We love our animals, and this is the only emergency treatment center open on Sunday in town. The wait seems endless.
A very competent doctor comes in and gives us two options: a stabilization one where we get him to our own vet the next day, and a complete treatment one, where they get to him when they can, but there are higher priority cases, and they just keep arriving, and they won’t get to him until late in the day. We opt for stabilization; we’d actually prefer Uhtred be treated by our own somewhat eccentric vet who has known us for years, and has treated all our cats.
We leave the clinic in relief after six hours with a cleaned-up, medicated cat in an “E” collar (for Elizabethan) to keep him from licking his wound.
As we leave, something extraordinary happens, something we have never seen before. The clinic closes its doors to incoming patients. There is one doctor, and 40+ situations awaiting her attention. Until they can bring in more emergency staff, they cannot deal with more. My heart goes out to them all, those who are trying to triage and treat these desperate cases, and those who are turned away when there are no other options.
We have a family dinner later in the day, this one an adult-only dinner where we discuss family situations and discuss options. We love these dinners, meeting with our son and his wife quietly, relaxed and open. We make a great team.
My daughter-in-law tells me there IS another option, further north, where we can take our animals under emergency conditions, a place they really like. Another resource! I am so thankful; I’ve never heard of this place, and it relieves my future anxieties about our animal emergencies.
CrisisGroup.Org
Because I follow – or try to follow – piracy in Somalia, I go down rabbit holes. Some rabbit holes lead you to the most amazing places, including a comprehensive update on an upsurge in Somalian piracy and root causes.
The rabbit holes led me to this fascinating group, Crisisgroup.org. I’m always curious who is behind these organizations – this organization, out of Brussels, seems to keep watch on some far-flung and, to U.S. readers, sometimes obscure potential events, which, when they explode, we wonder why we never heard of these fomenting conflicts.



Biases: Believing Our Delusions
This is from a daily reading by Richard Rohr, a theologian I love reading for his broad outlook on belief and spirituality.
None of us is free from biases that skew our thinking. He lists several of the thinking errors below.
Recognizing Our Biases
CAC (Center for Advanced Contemplation – ed.) faculty member Brian McLaren has done thoughtful and helpful research about what makes us see things so differently from one another. He identified thirteen biases that we outline today. Being a former pastor and an excellent communicator, Brian found a way to make these complex ways of seeing simple and memorable. He writes:
People can’t see what they can’t see. Their biases get in the way, surrounding them like a high wall, trapping them in ignorance, deception, and illusion. No amount of reasoning and argument will get through to them, unless we first learn how to break down the walls of bias. . . .
Confirmation Bias: We judge new ideas based on the ease with which they fit in with and confirm the only standard we have: old ideas, old information, and trusted authorities. As a result, our framing story, belief system, or paradigm excludes whatever doesn’t fit.
Complexity Bias: Our brains prefer a simple falsehood to a complex truth.
Community Bias: It’s almost impossible to see what our community doesn’t, can’t, or won’t see.
Complementarity Bias: If you are hostile to my ideas, I’ll be hostile to yours. If you are curious and respectful toward my ideas, I’ll respond in kind.
Competency Bias: We don’t know how much (or little) we know because we don’t know how much (or little) others know. In other words, incompetent people assume that most other people are about as incompetent as they are. As a result, they underestimate their [own] incompetence, and consider themselves at least of average competence.
Consciousness Bias: Some things simply can’t be seen from where I am right now. But if I keep growing, maturing, and developing, someday I will be able to see what is now inaccessible to me.
Comfort or Complacency Bias: I prefer not to have my comfort disturbed.
Conservative/Liberal Bias: I lean toward nurturing fairness and kindness, or towards strictly enforcing purity, loyalty, liberty, and authority, as an expression of my political identity.
Confidence Bias: I am attracted to confidence, even if it is false. I often prefer the bold lie to the hesitant truth.
Catastrophe or Normalcy Bias: I remember dramatic catastrophes but don’t notice gradual decline (or improvement).
Contact Bias: When I don’t have intense and sustained personal contact with “the other,” my prejudices and false assumptions go unchallenged.
Cash Bias: It’s hard for me to see something when my way of making a living requires me not to see it.
Conspiracy Bias: Under stress or shame, our brains are attracted to stories that relieve us, exonerate us, or portray us as innocent victims of malicious conspirators.
From Axios: America’s Healthiest and Least Healthy States

(The United Health Foundation was established by UnitedHealth Group in 1999 as a nonprofit, private foundation dedicated to improving health and health care. To date, the United Health Foundation has committed more than $845 million to programs and communities around the world, including a $100 million commitment to help advance and grow the health care workforce.” (from the United Health Foundation website)
This is one of the non-governmental agencies using facts and statistics to measure outcomes of health practices in the USA. Official statistics are disappearing. Entire years of government studies have been deleted from websites. Fortunately, there are people who saw it coming and who recorded the data from the websites, hoping for a future that respects science, research and statistics, and uses that research to create a greater good for us all, and shares that knowledge and best practices with the world.
So Much For Health and Transparency

It started during COVID. Politicians and their Administrations stopped publicizing statistics when the stats revealed their government was doing little or nothing to prevent spread of disease. Now, under the cover of cost reductions and eliminating fraud they are gutting the agencies that maintain the statistics and restricting publications of what few statistics are being gathered. Fortunately, private institutions and individuals are watching, keeping track, and doing their best to keep a vulnerable population informed.
Saying Goodbye to Al Marai Coffee Cups

All my nomadic life, I have had to sift, sort and weigh the value of my belongings – literally. As an Army wife and later a corporate wife, I had a weight allowance as we moved from country to country. My life was full of leaving things behind – friends, churches, social groups, jobs, my identity – as well as belongings.
Unlikely items made the cut. In 2003, when we moved to Doha, Qatar, I discovered a nearby store, the LuLu (which means lovely large pearl), where a gallon of Al Rifai milk came with a free coffee cup sturdily taped to it. I was delighted. I’ve always believed good design does not necessarily correlate with price – and these cups were a perfect size and had these wonderful scenes from Doha life, where there was a dhow harbor in the center of town, dhows in the harbor, and camel races with human riders on Saturdays. Look! The dhow coffee cup even has a wind tower in the background.
So yesterday, Christmas Day, as I opened two beautiful new coffee cups, one from Giverney and one from Barcelona, my husband looked at me sorrowfully, and approached the subject gently.
“It’s time we give up the Doha coffee cups,” he said.
“They have served us well. They are over 20 years old. They were free, probably made in China from materials we don’t even want to think about. I use them all the time, and even as I do, I wonder what might be leaching into my drink.”
I know he is right. There is no marking of any kind to indicate origin. After all these years, marks are appearing where we have stirred for twenty years. And yet – these cups have served me loyally. They are still bright and unmarred. I love their memorialization of a slower time in Doha. And I have options.
At Christmas breakfast, I have the cups out on display and offer them to my son. He is a discerning collector of first editions by selected authors, first edition Legos from the space exploration collections, edged weapons, and selected items that catch his attention. He also knows how to buy and sell on the Internet when he wants to refine his collections.
He expresses interest but does not take them with him. Their departure, however, is Christmas Day chaotic – bags full of presents, the food divided to be used for quick meals in the coming week (even our grandchildren contributed to our Christmas Eve dinner, my grandson a crab dip and my granddaughter a wreath made of crescent roll wrapped little smokies. My son, who was never interested in cooking, astonished us with a baked Brie!) and last-minute check-ins on upcoming family plans.
I am a patient woman. I know those cups deserve to find new appreciation in a new home. I believe my son will get involved but if not, I have other options.
Update: This is what it is like to be me. It is not that I am getting older, it is that I will tell you things I believe to be true, and they are close, but not the same.
My friend Yusuf, below, said he thought it must be Al Marai, and that sounded familiar. AdventureMan said maybe really we should keep the cups, and as he handled them, He found Al Marai logos on the cups. Not just one. Two on each cup.

In our family, we are all very very sure we are right. When we are not right, we are required to humbly state it. I was wrong, so very very wrong; the cups were labeled, Al Marai, not Al Rifai, and YOU, Yusef and AdventureMan, were RIGHT.
And we are keeping the cups!
18 Years as Intlxpatr

18 years as Intlxpatr, and who knew I’d still be blogging? I remember the combination of terror and excitement with which I began – and the kindness of the bloggers in Kuwait who welcomed me in, and what great discussions we had. Mostly I remember how much I learned from those early years. I had begun thinking there were things I wanted to remember; I had no idea I would be learning so much, and changing my own perspectives in response. For that, I thank God for giving me the courage to start, and the commitment to persevere.
I’m not the same person now as when I started. What I love is that I am surrounded by people within 20 years on either side of my age who are also changing, evolving, thinking about the bigger things and focusing, too, on the greatness of the small things.
One of the big changes in my life came with being diagnosed with diabetes ten years ago, losing, over the course of ten years, forty pounds and finding again how much I enjoyed swimming. I was once a competitive swimmer; I quit at 16, I just didn’t like being so focused on winning. It spoiled swimming for me. Now, I can’t wait; I get in the pool and just chug along until I’ve done two miles, three days a week. On the days I am not swimming, I miss swimming!
My blood sugar and A1C are NORMAL! I feel twenty years younger!
So today I welcome you in for some healthy and delicious snacks. (Yes! Chocolate is healthy!) All good things in moderation.

My healthy favorite, a blueberry smoothie!

Not boring fruit! Exciting presentation.

Charcuterie!

Veggies for the strong and courageous!

Oranges!

Small amounts of something delicious – you get to choose!

Chocolate to top us off, good healthy chocolate.
I appreciate your stopping my to help me celebrate. Thank you for your support these many years.






