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Poignant Pearls & Potbellied Pigs - March 2002
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sheldene chant
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Apr 01, 2002 06:05 PST
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POIGNANT PEARLS & POTBELLIED PIGS
Vol. 3 Issue 3 March, 2002
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Our subscriber list is confidential and we respect
your privacy. All SUBSCRIBE and UNSUBSCRIBE
information can be found at the end of this issue.
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CONTENTS
- Hello there . . .
- Inside Story
- Mediocre Gardener Molests Tree While
Fantasizing About Amazon Women....
- Keeping In Step
- Done Anything Daft Lately?
- eNonyMouse - in search of answers
- From My High Horse - Zimbabwe Today
- How To Stop Cats Scratching Furniture
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HELLO THERE . . .
…you with the stars in your eyes, a grasshopper brain and
thoughts without boundaries…
Regular subscribers will know that I come up with a variety
of reasons for battling to produce this ezine on time. Since the
first week of March I have been agonising about the Zimbabwe
election, and the results of that election. Because of who I am
and where I come from I felt something should be said but at the
same time I am aware that the real purpose of this ezine is to
amuse...hence the demise some time ago of my column
Watching The World Go By... I enjoyed writing it but eventually
came to the conclusion you could do without this additional
dose of vitriol.
But now I have to say my bit. This month a photograph of a
murdered Zimbabwean farmer lying on the ground, covered by a
bedspread and guarded by his faithful Jack Russell terrier, was
flashed around the world. Upsetting for most people, but when
you knew the farmer, it was doubly so.
Hot on the heels of that outrage, but only one of many outrages,
came the news of a detained Zimbabwean journalist, still in
custody as I write. Again this is someone I know - and worked
with for several years.
The draconian laws imposed by the Zimbabwe regime, before
and after the election, severely restrict reporters from carrying
out their rightful business. They also aim to prevent anyone else
living in Zimbabwe from speaking out about the ongoing
atrocities - or saying anything at all which could be construed as
criticism of the 'government'.
Fortunately not all Zimbabweans are easily muzzled. The truth
is available if you know where to look for it and
http://www.1freespace.com/beetee/ is a good place to start.
For my input turn to From My High Horse - Zimbabwe Today,
towards the end of this issue.
And now back to 'Pearls & Pigs' basics. I'm pleased to
introduce a new writer, R. Shelly Horne, who will appeal to
gardeners, like me, whose enthusiasm far outstrips any
expertise. See Mediocre Gardener Molests Tree While
Fantasizing About Amazon Women....
Done Anything Daft Lately? was originally published in PP&PP
in July 2000 (when there were very few subscribers) and I hope
you will enjoy the rerun.
Finally Rose Smith gives some practical advice about cats wot
scratch your furniture - and I'm living in hopes of coming across
some tips for preventing dogs undermining house foundations,
skidding on carpets, shedding their fur indoors, chasing all the
birds away etc etc. When I do that it should go a long way
towards restoring peace in the Chant household...Don't you find
that husbands (and I suppose, occasionally, wives,) can be
impossible?
PS New subscribers may find Inside Story a little confusing -
sometimes I share those feelings. This column is compiled
by my secretary, Griselda, who is a stranger to the concept
of sticking to the facts, to say nothing of loyalty. Unfortunately
some of our readers actually like her.
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INSIDE STORY
(according to Griselda)
IT'S another of those times when I've been instructed to keep this
short and sweet so Sheldene has more space in which to shoot
her mouth off. There is no doubt in my mind that every time she
does this we lose quite a few subscribers - which is why I have
to waste more of my time 'promoting' the ezine - just to keep
things on an even keel.
Her mission this month has been to wear out the television's
remote control, with constant clicking. She's back in her news
junkie mode and it seems that no station on earth can be trusted
to provide full coverage. In between news casts she reads
newspapers which are 'also useless' and - and I know you are
not going to believe this - she has also been watching cricket.
This is the woman who is going to ban all sport as soon as she
becomes Prime Minister. Normally Keith and Sheldene are
engaged in a constant battle over who watches what, and when,
and if the news hound is in full cry he is lucky if he gets to see
anything.
Only this time he got lucky. The South African cricket team has
been battling to beat the Australians both at home and abroad for
months. Somewhere along the line Sheldene got hooked so
whenever there is a match everything is put on hold while they
watch the proceedings - together!
But not like normal people, naturally. At the start of the series
there was much strident shouting of 'They're doing this on
purpose... ' but now they are becoming accustomed to the
South Africans losing three or four wickets, for three or four runs,
in the first three or four minutes. (The 'stupid Aussies' usually get
about 72 runs for one.)
So now they denounce the selectors, groundsman, coach, team
management, referees and the commentators.
They really hate the commentators - who are 'biased, blind and
ignorant' as well as being 'determined to put the mockers on' any
player who might be showing just a vestige of a return to form.
When it all becomes too much for them - contradicting every
comment must be exhausting - they switch the commentary
over to mute. Silence reigns for a few welcome minutes, but
then they need to hear what their enemies are saying behind
their backs...so it's back to square one.
And I have to listen to this for hours - as well as rush around
during the tea and lunch breaks because when the cricket is on
this is the only time anything vital gets done.
Fortunately there are only three one-day matches left so I might
survive the experience, but much more of this and I'll have to
consider standing for parliament...
In order to ban all sport, of course.
(She lies. I'm sure you don't believe I spend all my time
watching television- Ed.)
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I HAVE TO APOLOGISE...
..for berating 'you lot' for not responding to my
urgent appeals to rate this ezine....
I've just discovered the URL included a wrong
number (now corrected).
Please rate this Ezine at the Cumuli Ezine Finder
http://www.cumuli.com/ezines/ra20461.rate
<a href="http://www.cumuli.com/ezines/ra20461.rate">
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Editor's note: When you click to rate us please make
sure you check the number. It's automatically set at 5,
but you can go as high as 10. Make sure you change
it to the number you want
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MEDIOCRE GARDENER MOLESTS TREE WHILE
FANTASIZING ABOUT AMAZON WOMEN....
by R. Shelly Horne
I AM convinced that life is not a spectator sport, and I engage it
as an active participant every chance I get. A few weeks ago I
attended several gardening classes conducted by a master
gardener at the extension office.
I wasn't looking to become a master gardener overnight. I was,
once again, in quest of that little bit of knowledge that tends to
make me dangerous. Yes, my quest was successful.
Soon after the classes, my wife acquired a six foot blue spruce
tree with a large root ball wrapped in burlap. It mysteriously
appeared on my front lawn one day while I was out of town. My
first thought was to move it to a less conspicuous place.
Oomph! My second thought was to wait and hope that a couple
of Amazon women would knock on my door looking for odd jobs.
I would let them move it. It must have weighed 200 pounds.
After several days of contemplating what to do in the event the
Amazons didn't show up, my wife explained the principles of
physics involving leverage and a hand cart. I think she just
wanted to foil another of my Walter Mitty dreams involving tall,
not very ugly Amazon women.
Using these newly learned principles of physics, I managed to
move the tree to a place I thought it might grow.
I remember he said to dig the hole wider than the root ball. I did.
'You don't want to girdle your roots,' he had warned. (If you have
ever had your roots girdled, you know how painful that can be.)
I measured the depth of the root ball and dug the hole just a little
deeper; better too deep than not deep enough. When you think
about it, that doesn't make much sense. If the hole were not
deep enough, you could dig it deeper. If it is too deep, you not
only wasted the energy to dig it, now you have to put some of the
dirt back in it. If only I could think as deeply as I dig.
The tree goes into the hole, comes out; more dirt in the hole. The
tree goes back into the hole, comes back out; more dirt in the
hole...back in with the tree. This would have made a great silent
movie if I could just figure out how to get the Keystone Cops
involved.
I could still hear the words of the master gardener, 'Now, with the
tree firmly in place, remove the burlap from the root ball, spread
the tangled roots, trim them if necessary, and fill in the hole.' I got
as far as remove the burlap...the dirt fell away from the roots and
I was holding a six foot tree with a root system that looked as if it
might support a squatty geranium. I've seen better roots on an
abscessed molar.
How do I get into these messes? I couldn't get the dirt back
around the root ball, so I Just stuck the tree in the ground. The
size of the hole was now irrelevant. 'Pack lots of dirt around the
trunk.' Someone must have said that in class.
'Water well.' I did.
I watered too well, I guess. When I came back to admire my
work, the spruce had fallen over. At first I hoped the fallen tree
was the work of a renegade beaver. At least I could explain that.
As moments go, this was definitely bewildering and befuddling.
Her tree was down, and my perfect hole was full of mud. I figured
my chance of becoming a master gardener was now about as
likely as my being rescued by a couple of tall, not very ugly
Amazon women.
But, I am not without resources. I surveyed all my kingdom and
came up with a garden rake. I soon had the spruce standing, but
now propped up with the rake.
When I describe my planting process in future forestry
symposiums, I will note that when the mud dries it hardens much
like concrete and the tree will be firmly fixed in the ground. I will
caution that you should water modestly after that, and leave the
rake in place for six months, or until the tree dies, whichever
comes first. I don't know, I may never become a master
gardener. It is more likely that you will see my wanted poster in
every forest ranger station in the state, perhaps the country.
'Wanted, armed with a little knowledge, and dangerous. Slightly
over the hill male, posing as a master gardener, but unable to
distinguish a blue spruce from a geranium. This man may set
tree planting back two centuries. Do not attempt to apprehend.
He has been known to do strange things with a rake. Last seen
travelling through the forest with two tall, but not very ugly
Amazon women."
Copyright 2002 R. Shelly Horne All Rights Reserved
___________________________________
Shelly Horne is 66 [aged better than fine wine and longer than
good scotch] retired, and a native of Evanston, WY. His weekly
column, "Echoes of My Mind", appeared in the Uinta County
Herald newspaper in Evanston for over a year. He is now a
freelance magazine writer occasionally selling the humor that
echoes in his mind. Copies of his book, a collection of his
columns, can be found at ra-@allwest.net.
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A Tip For Daily Living from Jan Tincher
KEEPING IN STEP
COMMUNICATION is like a dance. Would you purposely go to
the left when your partner needed you to go to the right?
No, right?
Then, if you want to gain rapport, would you purposely speak
loudly when they speak softly or crowd their space when they
tend to shy away from people? I don't think so.
Watch your *partner.* Communicate as they do and enjoy
rapport.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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DONE ANYTHING DAFT LATELY ?
OF course I have - that's what keeps me going. The fact
I find my own antics screamingly funny may be further proof of
conceit but I guarantee there is never a dull moment.
For instance...
Last week I walked down the road with one of the dogs. My
husband and I were planning to drive to the shops, and this
seemed like a good time to pop along and post a letter. Too bad
if this meant keeping the man in my life waiting.
While strolling back, I noticed our car being reversed into the
road, then swinging right instead of left. 'How odd,' I thought. 'It's
not as if he would ever go off without me.'
Hurrying, I grasped the car's door handle as a preliminary to
yanking it open. I wondered why 'he' was still allowing the car to
roll forward instead of halting it, and opening the said door in a
civilised manner.
Actually, I was quite cross.
Anyway, more or less keeping my cool, I continued to wrestle
with the handle, while gazing about for the dog which would
have to be captured and incarcerated before we left for the
shops.
Would you believe it! ' He' continued to keep the wheels of the
car turning, and the door remained locked. In addition I had to
jump out of the way to save my foot.
By this time nothing mattered other than getting into that moving
vehicle - somehow. And then I would sort him out.
Naturally this involved a certain amount of yelling, together with
more shaking of the handle and beating on the window. A joke's
a joke but I was having difficulty coming to terms with this one.
One last angry jerk and I would surely wrench the door open -
and snatch him out.
But wait! My husband looked a little smaller.
Dropping my hands I leant over to peer through the murky
glass - while an unknown, elderly man stared back.
He fluttered one hand placatingly. Perhaps that quivering
grimace was meant to be a smile. In any case I was transfixed.
Why was I trying to bludgeon my way into this stranger's car?
What could I possibly say? It was quite clear he was alarmed - if
not petrified.
Grinning fiercely I made a series of friendly gestures - conveying
who knows what. As he seemed in no rush to wind down the
window, I continued to nod and leer.
Then, beginning to feel really stupid, I stepped back and the car
shot off.
For a long moment I was thoroughly ashamed. Then whooping
and howling with laughter, I managed to stagger blindly into our
garden.
It was so funny. So absolutely hilarious it was glorious.
My husband, the one who was supposed to be driving the other
car, appeared, looking puzzled. With some difficulty I finally
managed to explain and he too started to fall about, gasping.
It seemed as if we hadn't laughed like that for years...
Only wish we knew what my car hijack 'victim' chose to report
when he reached the safety of his home.
Copyright 2000 Sheldene Chant
_________________________________________
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eNonyMouse...
... still searching for answers...
Why does the sun lighten our hair, but darken our skin?
Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?
Why don't you ever see the headline 'Psychic Wins Lottery'?
Why is 'abbreviated' such a long word?
Why is a boxing ring square?
Why is it called lipstick if you can still move your lips?
Why is it that doctors call what they do 'practice'?
Why is it that to stop Windows, you have to click on 'Start'?
Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavour, and dishwashing
liquid made with real lemons?
Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker?
Why is the third hand on the watch called a second hand?
Why is the time of day with the slowest traffic called rush hour?
Why isn't there a special name for the tops of your feet?
Why isn't there mouse-flavoured cat food?
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From My High Horse
ZIMBABWE TODAY
ONCE upon a time Zimbabwe was a pleasant land. Today, in
the aftermath of Robert Mugabe's flawed presidential election,
thousands of people are starving and living in fear of losing their
lives. And help is not at hand.
When I visited Zimbabwe at the beginning of this year people
were buoyed by their conviction that the Opposition MDC leader,
Morgan Tsvangirai, would triumph in the presidential election.
Despite widespread political intimidation and abuse by Mugabe's
ZANU(PF) government of almost every power, they still believed
in the democratic process. At the time I wished I could share
their optimism. Unfortunately, come the presidential poll on
March 9, 10 and 11, democracy took a back seat and once again
Mugabe and his henchmen proved that might is right.
The run up to the election, subsequently rejected by most of the
international community, has been fairly well documented. Since
the poll opposition supporters, both black and white, have been
subjected to even greater harassment and brutality and only a
fraction of this is being reported in the media. Within Zimbabwe
there is a clampdown on every aspect of independent media
coverage, as well as individual freedom of speech.
As inevitably happens the outside world, having condemned the
election soundly in most instances, has now moved on. The
focus has returned to the deteriorating situation in the Middle
East as well as other pressing matters..
Which is pretty depressing if you happen to be a commercial
farmer being hounded off your land in Zimbabwe, or a farm
worker forced to leave the home you have lived in for years with
no option but to join the hungry, jobless majority, or one of the
millions of decent people whose only desire is to live in peace,
with a measure of dignity.
On the other hand, if you are one of Comrade Mugabe's pet
thugs, that is a so-called 'war veteran' (even if you're only 13
years old), a member of his youth militia, or an ardent ZANU
(PF) supporter, life continues to be great fun. Your leader has
within the last week warned all who oppose him that ''This is a
post-election period and no nonsense will be tolerated. Those
who want to rebel and to cause lawlessness will be beaten to the
ground like they have never been beaten.' - and that's saying
something.
You can continue looting, beating, murdering and terrorising your
fellow countrymen with impunity - and in the unlikely event of the
police being called by your victims, they will take a long time to
respond - if they respond at all.
However, Zimbabweans being what they are, some remain
optimistic. They are hoping the election will be re-run under UN
supervision. According to ZANU(PF) this is not going to happen,
but just in case they will continue to do all that is necessary to
ensure MDC supporters are hunted like criminals and kept in
disarray. Ethnic cleansing of the opposition is not new in
Mugabe's Zimbabwe - remember the massacres around
Bulawayo.
This is why it is so important that people of good will,
everywhere, make an effort to hone in on what is taking place in
Zimbabwe - even if it seems very far away. In spite of Robert
Mugabe's efforts to the contrary word is getting out. You will find
reams of reading, daily, at http://www.1freespace.com/beetee/
including reports that have appeared in newspapers around the
world, as well as details courageously supplied by the people 'on
the ground'.
Here is a mere sliver taken from a nationwide report posted on
the site yesterday:
'Wedza - Chingamere, Mtemwa, and Hungwe in the Ruzawi
River Valley, were subjected to attacks by a group of 12 to 16
during the night of 24.03.02. The mob broke through the
homestead security fence at Chingmere; the owner declined to
meet them on observing their menacing mood. For half an hour
they stoned the house and vehicles near by. They left to attack
the farm village at about 2200 hrs, gathering extra people to join
the gang on the way. All the workers were beaten up - 7
severely, and 6 of those were taken to a neighbouring farm and
beaten up further. The mob, armed with sticks and other
weapons, went on to beat up other workers at Mtemwa and
Hungwe. At Mtemwa, 56 labourers were beaten up with thick
sticks by the now 30-strong gang, led by 'war vet' Cde Moyo.
Seven bruised, five hospitalised and the balance very bruised.
Of the hospitalised victims, one has lost hearing and one is a
pregnant girl. At Hungwe Farm, the group beat up 60 people in
the farm village, and two women were raped, one being a girl of
thirteen years of age.'
The following was filed by a British newspaper correspondent on
March 31:
'THE terror began at eight in the evening and lasted until dawn for
Felicia Matamure. In tears, the young trainee teacher described
last week how she was captured by government youth militia in
north-eastern Zimbabwe and dragged to their camp near Mt
Darwin.
There she was gagged and gang-raped by a gang of 10 young
men high on drink and drugs in a horrifying night of sexual abuse
and beatings.
'They tied my legs and arms to poles,' the distraught 23-year-old
told The Telegraph from a safe house in Harare. 'The men took
turns to rape me while the others watched and sang liberation
songs.'
Felicia was untied at dawn, but threatened with death if she fled
the camp. Undaunted, she escaped the next night and tried to
report the case to the police, only to be turned away. 'They were
not interested,' she said. 'The war vets and the militia are above
the law.'
She said there were dozens of other abducted women at the
former school that has been turned into a militia camp. Some
were made to wash and cook, others were forced to sleep with
the gang-leaders. Most were too scared to flee because of the
retribution that their family or village would face.
Lilian Nzirawa's ordeal was just as appalling: the militia forced
her into their camp, ripped off her dress and slashed her
underwear with knives.
'I was tied, gagged and blindfolded while they raped me,' she
recalled. After about an hour, her abductors removed the
blindfold, but took it in turns to rape her again as their comrades
cheered and sang revolutionary songs.
With tears rolling down her face, Lilian, in her early twenties, said
she recognised some of her assailants as local men from her
home area near Bindura, 60 miles north of Harare. 'All I want is
justice and all I can do is cry,' she said softly.
Both Felicia and Lilian are now in hiding but risked their lives to
reveal the horrors they endured; their names have been changed
at their request. Their revelations come as the militia and war
veterans indulge in a new wave of political violence.
After resorting to rampant electoral fraud in this month's election,
President Mugabe is desperate to ensure that the MDC can
never again mount such a strong political challenge to his
regime. Across the country, opposition activists have been
attacked, forced to pay heavy 'fines', hounded from their homes
and - in at least six cases since the election - killed by Zanu-PF
mobs.
White farmers are also being targeted: in Zanu-PF's
Mashonaland strongholds, dozens have been forced from their
homes in revenge for backing for the MDC, while Terry Ford was
shot dead on his farm at Norton.
It is local black MDC activists who are bearing the brunt of the
anti-opposition crackdown, however. Laina Marowa, Tsanangurai
Marowa and Dorcas Maneni fled into the bush in the eastern
Manicaland province after serving as MDC polling agents. Mobs
had turned up outside their houses and local Zanu-PF leaders
had ordered them to pay 'fines' of almost £50, a small
fortune in rural areas.
Across the country, the MDC estimates that 1,200 of its election
agents are on the run and there are countless reports of abuse
at militia torture camps. Photographs obtained by The Telegraph
reveal that new recruits are still being trained in the Bindura area,
100 miles north of Harare.
Sexual assault has also been used as part of this new strategy
of terror: one 15-year-old girl was repeatedly raped by youth
militia shortly after the election because they could not find her
parents, both MDC activists.
According to Dewa Mavhinga, a research officer with the
Zimbabwe Women Lawyers' Association (ZWLA), there are
more than 1,000 female sex slaves being held in 56 militia
camps.
'These militia are now in celebration mode,' he said. 'They act
like they're unafraid of anything.'
The victims fall into three categories. 'Some are promised
money,'he said. 'Others go in because they're ordered to and
they're too frightened to disobey. The last group are taken into
the camps as punishment for supporting the opposition MDC.'
The fear that they will be discovered and killed by their former
tormentors is common among escaped sex slaves, according to
Mr Mavhinga. 'They have been told that they will be hunted down
and killed by the militia and the war veterans,' he said.
Even once they have escaped, the stigma attached to rape in
rural areas means that women's suffering continues. 'They can't
just admit they've been raped because they fear their husbands
will not have anything more to do with them,' said Mr Mavhinga.
Felicia confirmed the problem as she broke down in tears and
explained that she was married with a small child. 'My husband
works in South Africa. When I escaped I wanted to phone and tell
him but I just couldn't do it. By the time I spoke to him, he had
heard. When he answered the phone, he just said: 'I know'. That
was it.'
Asked if she will ever see her husband again, Felicia smiled
sadly and shook her head. 'I don't think so,' she said.'
Tales of terror and suffering are not what you expect to read in
Poignant Pearls & Potbellied Pigs and I trust this is the first and
last time it will occur.
I felt you'd want to know.
Copyright 2002 Sheldene Chant
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HOW TO STOP CATS SCRATCHING FURNITURE
by Rose Smith
FLUFFY is using your new chair for a scratching post...again!
Its a very natural thing for a cat to sharpen it's claws.
After all, they are used for climbing, catching 'food' (when
necessary), climbing, perching and defending themselves. Of
course, let's not forget another very important trait that
cat's need claws for...'kneading your leg' when contentedly
curled up on your lap. So, what's a human to do?
Get a scratching post!
It's relatively easy to teach a cat to use a scratching post
instead of your own furniture (and in some cases...you!). Even
a 'slow' cat will catch on to the idea fairly quickly. Many
pet stores sell scratching posts and furniture in all shapes
and sizes to keep your frolicing feline happy and content.
You can also make your own scratching post out of simple
materials lying around your home. For example, take a 4 inch
diameter branch about 2 feet long. Wrap it snuggly and
securely with some rope. Voila...simple scratching post.
Another option is to cover a 2X4 board with old carpeting.
Once you have a scratching post (either purchased or home-
made), place it near the area that your cat spends the most
time or next to his favorite 'scratching' place. Now comes
the hard part...waiting and watching.
As soon as your cat begins to scratch an inappropriate item
(from your point of view...not his), quickly say 'no' in a
deep voice and pick him up. Take him to the new scratching
post and rub his paws gently over the post, simulating
scratching. You will have to be diligent about this.
Whenever you see your cat using the scratching post on his
own, immediately praise him, perhaps even giving him a treat
the first few times to reinforce the behavior. A cat learns
quickly and it shouldn't take long for him to 'readjust' his
habits.
Copyright 2002 Rose Smith
________________________________________
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<b>POIGNANT PEARLS & POTBELLIED
PIGS<br><br>
Vol. 3 Issue 3 March, 2002<br>
</b>:<br>
öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo<br><br>
Our subscriber list is confidential and we
respect<br>
your privacy. All SUBSCRIBE and
UNSUBSCRIBE<br>
information can be found at the end of
this issue.<br><br>
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<b> CONTENTS<br><br>
</b> - Hello there
. . .<br><br>
- Inside
Story<br><br>
- Mediocre
Gardener Molests Tree While<br>
Fantasizing About Amazon Women....<br><br>
- Keeping In
Step<br><br>
- Done
Anything Daft Lately?<br><br>
- eNonyMouse - in
search of answers<br><br>
- From My High
Horse - Zimbabwe Today<br><br>
- How To
Stop Cats Scratching Furniture<br><br>
öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo<br><br>
<b>
HELLO THERE . . .<br><br>
</b>…you with the stars in your eyes, a grasshopper brain and<br>
thoughts without boundaries…<br><br>
Regular subscribers will know that I come up with a variety<br>
of reasons for battling to produce this ezine on time. Since
the<br>
first week of March I have been agonising about the Zimbabwe<br>
election, and the results of that election. Because of who I
am<br>
and where I come from I felt something should be said but at the<br>
same time I am aware that the real purpose of this ezine is to<br>
amuse...hence the demise some time ago of my column<br>
Watching The World Go By... I enjoyed writing it but
eventually<br>
came to the conclusion you could do without this additional<br>
dose of vitriol.<br><br>
But now I have to say my bit. This month a photograph of a<br>
murdered Zimbabwean farmer lying on the ground, covered by a<br>
bedspread and guarded by his faithful Jack Russell terrier, was<br>
flashed around the world. Upsetting for most people, but when<br>
you knew the farmer, it was doubly so.<br><br>
Hot on the heels of that outrage, but only one of many outrages,<br>
came the news of a detained Zimbabwean journalist, still in<br>
custody as I write. Again this is someone I know - and worked<br>
with for several years.<br><br>
The draconian laws imposed by the Zimbabwe regime, before<br>
and after the election, severely restrict reporters from
carrying<br>
out their rightful business. They also aim to prevent anyone
else<br>
living in Zimbabwe from speaking out about the ongoing<br>
atrocities - or saying anything at all which could be construed
as<br>
criticism of the 'government'.<br><br>
Fortunately not all Zimbabweans are easily muzzled. The
truth<br>
is available if you know where to look for it and<br>
<a href="http://www.1freespace.com/beetee/" eudora="autourl">http://www.1freespace.com/beetee/</a>
is a good place to start.<br>
For my input turn to From My High Horse - Zimbabwe Today,<br>
towards the end of this issue.<br><br>
And now back to 'Pearls & Pigs' basics. I'm pleased
to<br>
introduce a new writer, R. Shelly Horne, who will appeal to<br>
gardeners, like me, whose enthusiasm far outstrips any<br>
expertise. See Mediocre Gardener Molests Tree
While<br>
Fantasizing About Amazon Women....<br><br>
Done Anything Daft Lately? was originally published in
PP&PP<br>
in July 2000 (when there were very few subscribers) and I
hope<br>
you will enjoy the rerun.<br><br>
Finally Rose Smith gives some practical advice about cats wot<br>
scratch your furniture - and I'm living in hopes of coming
across<br>
some tips for preventing dogs undermining house foundations,<br>
skidding on carpets, shedding their fur indoors, chasing all
the<br>
birds away etc etc. When I do that it should go a long
way<br>
towards restoring peace in the Chant household...Don't you
find<br>
that husbands (and I suppose, occasionally, wives,) can be<br>
impossible?<br><br>
PS New subscribers may find Inside Story a little confusing -<br>
sometimes I share those feelings. This column is
compiled<br>
by my secretary, Griselda, who is a stranger to the concept<br>
of sticking to the facts, to say nothing of loyalty.
Unfortunately<br>
some of our readers actually like her.<br><br>
öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo<br><br>
NEWBIES, NERDS & NITWITS<br>
'Support' ezine for everyone needing a helping<br>
hand with their first forays around a PC and the<br>
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<b> INSIDE STORY<br><br>
</b>
<i> (according to Griselda)<br><br>
</i>IT'S another of those times when I've been instructed to keep
this<br>
short and sweet so Sheldene has more space in which to shoot<br>
her mouth off. There is no doubt in my mind that every time
she<br>
does this we lose quite a few subscribers - which is why I have<br>
to waste more of my time 'promoting' the ezine - just to keep<br>
things on an even keel.<br><br>
Her mission this month has been to wear out the television's<br>
remote control, with constant clicking. She's back in her
news<br>
junkie mode and it seems that no station on earth can be trusted<br>
to provide full coverage. In between news casts she reads<br>
newspapers which are 'also useless' and - and I know you are<br>
not going to believe this - she has also been watching cricket.<br><br>
This is the woman who is going to ban all sport as soon as she<br>
becomes Prime Minister. Normally Keith and Sheldene are<br>
engaged in a constant battle over who watches what, and when,<br>
and if the news hound is in full cry he is lucky if he gets to see<br>
anything.<br><br>
Only this time he got lucky. The South African cricket team
has<br>
been battling to beat the Australians both at home and abroad for<br>
months. Somewhere along the line Sheldene got hooked so<br>
whenever there is a match everything is put on hold while they<br>
watch the proceedings - together!<br><br>
But not like normal people, naturally. At the start of the
series<br>
there was much strident shouting of 'They're doing this on<br>
purpose... ' but now they are becoming accustomed to the<br>
South Africans losing three or four wickets, for three or four
runs,<br>
in the first three or four minutes. (The 'stupid Aussies' usually
get<br>
about 72 runs for one.)<br><br>
So now they denounce the selectors, groundsman, coach, team<br>
management, referees and the commentators.<br><br>
They really hate the commentators - who are 'biased, blind and<br>
ignorant' as well as being 'determined to put the mockers on' any<br>
player who might be showing just a vestige of a return to form.<br><br>
When it all becomes too much for them - contradicting every<br>
comment must be exhausting - they switch the commentary<br>
over to mute. Silence reigns for a few welcome minutes, but<br>
then they need to hear what their enemies are saying behind<br>
their backs...so it's back to square one.<br><br>
And I have to listen to this for hours - as well as rush around<br>
during the tea and lunch breaks because when the cricket is on<br>
this is the only time anything vital gets done.<br><br>
Fortunately there are only three one-day matches left so I might<br>
survive the experience, but much more of this and I'll have
to<br>
consider standing for parliament...<br><br>
In order to ban all sport, of course.<br><br>
<i>(She lies. I'm sure you don't believe I spend all my time<br>
watching television- Ed.)<br><br>
</i>öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo<br><br>
I HAVE TO APOLOGISE...<br><br>
..for berating 'you lot' for not responding to my<br>
urgent appeals to rate this ezine....<br><br>
I've just discovered the URL included a wrong<br>
number (now corrected).<br><br>
Please rate this Ezine at the Cumuli Ezine Finder<br>
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sure you check the number. It’s automatically set at 5,<br>
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<br>
<b>MEDIOCRE GARDENER MOLESTS TREE WHILE<br>
FANTASIZING
ABOUT AMAZON WOMEN....<br><br>
by R. Shelly Horne<br><br>
</b>I AM convinced that life is not a spectator sport, and I engage
it<br>
as an active participant every chance I get. A few weeks ago I<br>
attended several gardening classes conducted by a master<br>
gardener at the extension office.<br><br>
I wasn’t looking to become a master gardener overnight. I was,<br>
once again, in quest of that little bit of knowledge that tends to<br>
make me dangerous. Yes, my quest was successful.<br><br>
Soon after the classes, my wife acquired a six foot blue spruce<br>
tree with a large root ball wrapped in burlap. It mysteriously<br>
appeared on my front lawn one day while I was out of town. My<br>
first thought was to move it to a less conspicuous place.<br><br>
Oomph! My second thought was to wait and hope that a couple<br>
of Amazon women would knock on my door looking for odd jobs.<br>
I would let them move it. It must have weighed 200 pounds.<br><br>
After several days of contemplating what to do in the event the<br>
Amazons didn’t show up, my wife explained the principles of<br>
physics involving leverage and a hand cart. I think she just<br>
wanted to foil another of my Walter Mitty dreams involving tall,<br>
not very ugly Amazon women.<br><br>
Using these newly learned principles of physics, I managed to<br>
move the tree to a place I thought it might grow.<br><br>
I remember he said to dig the hole wider than the root ball. I did.<br>
'You don’t want to girdle your roots,' he had warned. (If you have<br>
ever had your roots girdled, you know how painful that can be.)<br><br>
I measured the depth of the root ball and dug the hole just a
little<br>
deeper; better too deep than not deep enough. When you think<br>
about it, that doesn’t make much sense. If the hole were not<br>
deep enough, you could dig it deeper. If it is too deep, you not<br>
only wasted the energy to dig it, now you have to put some of the<br>
dirt back in it. If only I could think as deeply as I dig.<br><br>
The tree goes into the hole, comes out; more dirt in the hole. The<br>
tree goes back into the hole, comes back out; more dirt in the<br>
hole...back in with the tree. This would have made a great silent<br>
movie if I could just figure out how to get the Keystone Cops<br>
involved.<br><br>
I could still hear the words of the master gardener, 'Now, with the<br>
tree firmly in place, remove the burlap from the root ball, spread<br>
the tangled roots, trim them if necessary, and fill in the hole.' I
got<br>
as far as remove the burlap...the dirt fell away from the roots and<br>
I was holding a six foot tree with a root system that looked as if
it<br>
might support a squatty geranium. I’ve seen better roots on an<br>
abscessed molar.<br><br>
How do I get into these messes? I couldn’t get the dirt back<br>
around the root ball, so I Just stuck the tree in the ground. The<br>
size of the hole was now irrelevant. 'Pack lots of dirt around the<br>
trunk.' Someone must have said that in class.<br>
'Water well.' I did.<br><br>
I watered too well, I guess. When I came back to admire my<br>
work, the spruce had fallen over. At first I hoped the fallen tree<br>
was the work of a renegade beaver. At least I could explain
that.<br><br>
As moments go, this was definitely bewildering and befuddling.<br>
Her tree was down, and my perfect hole was full of mud. I figured<br>
my chance of becoming a master gardener was now about as<br>
likely as my being rescued by a couple of tall, not very ugly<br>
Amazon women.<br><br>
But, I am not without resources. I surveyed all my kingdom and<br>
came up with a garden rake. I soon had the spruce standing, but<br>
now propped up with the rake.<br><br>
When I describe my planting process in future forestry<br>
symposiums, I will note that when the mud dries it hardens much<br>
like concrete and the tree will be firmly fixed in the ground. I
will<br>
caution that you should water modestly after that, and leave the<br>
rake in place for six months, or until the tree dies, whichever<br>
comes first. I don’t know, I may never become a master<br>
gardener. It is more likely that you will see my wanted poster in<br>
every forest ranger station in the state, perhaps the country.<br><br>
'Wanted, armed with a little knowledge, and dangerous. Slightly<br>
over the hill male, posing as a master gardener, but unable to<br>
distinguish a blue spruce from a geranium. This man may set<br>
tree planting back two centuries. Do not attempt to apprehend.<br>
He has been known to do strange things with a rake. Last seen<br>
travelling through the forest with two tall, but not very ugly<br>
Amazon women.”<br><br>
<b>Copyright 2002 R. Shelly Horne All Rights Reserved<br>
</b>___________________________________<br>
<i>Shelly Horne is 66 [aged better than fine wine and longer than<br>
good scotch] retired, and a native of Evanston, WY. His
weekly<br>
column, "Echoes of My Mind", appeared in the Uinta County<br>
Herald newspaper in Evanston for over a year. He is now a<br>
freelance magazine writer occasionally selling the humor that<br>
echoes in his mind. Copies of his book, a collection of his<br>
columns, can be found at ra-@allwest.net.<br><br>
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<i>A Tip For Daily Living from Jan Tincher<br><br>
</i>
<b>KEEPING IN STEP<br><br>
</b>COMMUNICATION is like a dance. Would you purposely go to<br>
the left when your partner needed you to go to the right?<br><br>
No, right?<br><br>
Then, if you want to gain rapport, would you purposely speak<br>
loudly when they speak softly or crowd their space when they<br>
tend to shy away from people? I don't think so.<br><br>
Watch your *partner.* Communicate as they do and enjoy<br>
rapport.<br><br>
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br>
<i>Would you like a FREE phone session with Jan Tincher,<br>
a nationally recognized expert in Hypnotherapy and Master<br>
Neuro-Linguistic Programming? Click here to find out how!<br>
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<b> DONE ANYTHING DAFT
LATELY ?<br><br>
</b>OF course I have - that's what keeps me going. The fact<br>
I find my own antics screamingly funny may be further proof of<br>
conceit but I guarantee there is never a dull moment.<br><br>
For instance...<br><br>
Last week I walked down the road with one of the dogs. My<br>
husband and I were planning to drive to the shops, and this<br>
seemed like a good time to pop along and post a letter. Too bad<br>
if this meant keeping the man in my life waiting.<br><br>
While strolling back, I noticed our car being reversed into the<br>
road, then swinging right instead of left. 'How odd,' I
thought. 'It's<br>
not as if he would ever go off without me.'<br><br>
Hurrying, I grasped the car's door handle as a preliminary to<br>
yanking it open. I wondered why 'he' was still allowing the car
to<br>
roll forward instead of halting it, and opening the said door in
a<br>
civilised manner.<br><br>
Actually, I was quite cross.<br><br>
Anyway, more or less keeping my cool, I continued to
wrestle<br>
with the handle, while gazing about for the dog which
would<br>
have to be captured and incarcerated before we left for the<br>
shops.<br><br>
Would you believe it! ' He' continued to keep the wheels of the<br>
car turning, and the door remained locked. In addition I had
to<br>
jump out of the way to save my foot.<br><br>
By this time nothing mattered other than getting into that moving<br>
vehicle - somehow. And then I would sort him out.<br><br>
Naturally this involved a certain amount of yelling, together
with<br>
more shaking of the handle and beating on the window. A
joke's<br>
a joke but I was having difficulty coming to terms with this
one.<br>
One last angry jerk and I would surely wrench the door open -<br>
and snatch him out.<br><br>
But wait! My husband looked a little smaller.<br><br>
Dropping my hands I leant over to peer through the murky<br>
glass - while an unknown, elderly man stared back.<br><br>
He fluttered one hand placatingly. Perhaps that quivering<br>
grimace was meant to be a smile. In any case I was
transfixed.<br><br>
Why was I trying to bludgeon my way into this stranger's car?<br>
What could I possibly say? It was quite clear he was alarmed - if<br>
not petrified.<br><br>
Grinning fiercely I made a series of friendly gestures - conveying<br>
who knows what. As he seemed in no rush to wind down the<br>
window, I continued to nod and leer.<br><br>
Then, beginning to feel really stupid, I stepped back and the
car<br>
shot off.<br><br>
For a long moment I was thoroughly ashamed. Then whooping<br>
and howling with laughter, I managed to stagger blindly into
our<br>
garden.<br><br>
It was so funny. So absolutely hilarious it was glorious.<br><br>
My husband, the one who was supposed to be driving the other<br>
car, appeared, looking puzzled. With some difficulty I
finally<br>
managed to explain and he too started to fall about, gasping.<br><br>
It seemed as if we hadn't laughed like that for years...<br><br>
Only wish we knew what my car hijack 'victim' chose to report<br>
when he reached the safety of his home.<br><br>
<b>Copyright 2000 Sheldene Chant<br>
</b>_________________________________________<br><br>
öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo<br><br>
<b>eNonyMouse...<br><br>
</b>
<i> ... still searching for answers...<br><br>
</i>Why does the sun lighten our hair, but darken our skin?<br><br>
Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?<br><br>
Why don't you ever see the headline 'Psychic Wins Lottery'?<br><br>
Why is 'abbreviated' such a long word?<br><br>
Why is a boxing ring square?<br><br>
Why is it called lipstick if you can still move your lips?<br><br>
Why is it that doctors call what they do 'practice'?<br><br>
Why is it that to stop Windows, you have to click on 'Start'?<br><br>
Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavour, and dishwashing<br>
liquid made with real lemons?<br><br>
Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker?<br><br>
Why is the third hand on the watch called a second hand?<br><br>
Why is the time of day with the slowest traffic called rush
hour?<br><br>
Why isn't there a special name for the tops of your feet?<br><br>
Why isn't there mouse-flavoured cat food?<br><br>
öÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo<br><br>
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<i>From My High Horse<br><br>
</i>
<b>
ZIMBABWE TODAY<br><br>
</b>ONCE upon a time Zimbabwe was a pleasant land. Today, in<br>
the aftermath of Robert Mugabe's flawed presidential election,<br>
thousands of people are starving and living in fear of losing their<br>
lives. And help is not at hand.<br><br>
When I visited Zimbabwe at the beginning of this year people<br>
were buoyed by their conviction that the Opposition MDC
leader,<br>
Morgan Tsvangirai, would triumph in the presidential election.<br>
Despite widespread political intimidation and abuse by
Mugabe's<br>
ZANU(PF) government of almost every power, they still believed<br>
in the democratic process. At the time I wished I could share<br>
their optimism. Unfortunately, come the presidential poll
on<br>
March 9, 10 and 11, democracy took a back seat and once again<br>
Mugabe and his henchmen proved that might is right.<br><br>
The run up to the election, subsequently rejected by most of the<br>
international community, has been fairly well documented. Since<br>
the poll opposition supporters, both black and white, have been<br>
subjected to even greater harassment and brutality and only a<br>
fraction of this is being reported in the media. Within
Zimbabwe<br>
there is a clampdown on every aspect of independent media<br>
coverage, as well as individual freedom of speech.<br><br>
As inevitably happens the outside world, having condemned the<br>
election soundly in most instances, has now moved on. The<br>
focus has returned to the deteriorating situation in the Middle<br>
East as well as other pressing matters..<br><br>
Which is pretty depressing if you happen to be a commercial<br>
farmer being hounded off your land in Zimbabwe, or a farm<br>
worker forced to leave the home you have lived in for years with<br>
no option but to join the hungry, jobless majority, or one of the<br>
millions of decent people whose only desire is to live in peace,<br>
with a measure of dignity.<br><br>
On the other hand, if you are one of Comrade Mugabe's pet<br>
thugs, that is a so-called 'war veteran' (even if you're only 13<br>
years old), a member of his youth militia, or an ardent ZANU<br>
(PF) supporter, life continues to be great fun. Your leader has<br>
within the last week warned all who oppose him that ''This is
a<br>
post-election period and no nonsense will be tolerated. Those<br>
who want to rebel and to cause lawlessness will be beaten to the<br>
ground like they have never been beaten.' - and that's saying<br>
something.<br><br>
You can continue looting, beating, murdering and terrorising your<br>
fellow countrymen with impunity - and in the unlikely event of the<br>
police being called by your victims, they will take a long time to<br>
respond - if they respond at all.<br><br>
However, Zimbabweans being what they are, some remain<br>
optimistic. They are hoping the election will be re-run under
UN<br>
supervision. According to ZANU(PF) this is not going to
happen,<br>
but just in case they will continue to do all that is necessary to<br>
ensure MDC supporters are hunted like criminals and kept in<br>
disarray. Ethnic cleansing of the opposition is not new in<br>
Mugabe's Zimbabwe - remember the massacres around<br>
Bulawayo.<br><br>
This is why it is so important that people of good will,<br>
everywhere, make an effort to hone in on what is taking place in<br>
Zimbabwe - even if it seems very far away. In spite of Robert<br>
Mugabe's efforts to the contrary word is getting out. You will
find<br>
reams of reading, daily, at
<a href="http://www.1freespace.com/beetee/" eudora="autourl">http://www.1freespace.com/beetee/</a><br>
including reports that have appeared in newspapers around the<br>
world, as well as details courageously supplied by the people 'on<br>
the ground'.<br><br>
Here is a mere sliver taken from a nationwide report posted
on<br>
the site yesterday:<br><br>
'Wedza - Chingamere, Mtemwa, and Hungwe in the
Ruzawi<br>
River Valley, were subjected to attacks by a group of 12 to
16<br>
during the night of 24.03.02. The mob broke through the<br>
homestead security fence at Chingmere; the owner declined to<br>
meet them on observing their menacing mood. For half an
hour<br>
they stoned the house and vehicles near by. They left to
attack<br>
the farm village at about 2200 hrs, gathering extra people to
join<br>
the gang on the way. All the workers were beaten up - 7<br>
severely, and 6 of those were taken to a neighbouring farm
and<br>
beaten up further. The mob, armed with sticks and other<br>
weapons, went on to beat up other workers at Mtemwa and<br>
Hungwe. At Mtemwa, 56 labourers were beaten up with
thick<br>
sticks by the now 30-strong gang, led by 'war vet' Cde Moyo.<br>
Seven bruised, five hospitalised and the balance very
bruised.<br>
Of the hospitalised victims, one has lost hearing and one is
a<br>
pregnant girl. At Hungwe Farm, the group beat up 60 people
in<br>
the farm village, and two women were raped, one being a girl
of<br>
thirteen years of age.'<br><br>
The following was filed by a British newspaper correspondent on<br>
March 31:<br><br>
'THE terror began at eight in the evening and lasted until dawn for<br>
Felicia Matamure. In tears, the young trainee teacher described<br>
last week how she was captured by government youth militia in<br>
north-eastern Zimbabwe and dragged to their camp near Mt<br>
Darwin.<br><br>
There she was gagged and gang-raped by a gang of 10 young<br>
men high on drink and drugs in a horrifying night of sexual abuse<br>
and beatings.<br>
'They tied my legs and arms to poles,' the distraught 23-year-old<br>
told The Telegraph from a safe house in Harare. 'The men took<br>
turns to rape me while the others watched and sang liberation<br>
songs.'<br><br>
Felicia was untied at dawn, but threatened with death if she fled<br>
the camp. Undaunted, she escaped the next night and tried to<br>
report the case to the police, only to be turned away. 'They were<br>
not interested,' she said. 'The war vets and the militia are above<br>
the law.'<br><br>
She said there were dozens of other abducted women at the<br>
former school that has been turned into a militia camp. Some<br>
were made to wash and cook, others were forced to sleep with<br>
the gang-leaders. Most were too scared to flee because of the<br>
retribution that their family or village would face.<br><br>
Lilian Nzirawa's ordeal was just as appalling: the militia forced<br>
her into their camp, ripped off her dress and slashed her<br>
underwear with knives.<br><br>
'I was tied, gagged and blindfolded while they raped me,' she<br>
recalled. After about an hour, her abductors removed the<br>
blindfold, but took it in turns to rape her again as their comrades<br>
cheered and sang revolutionary songs.<br><br>
<br>
With tears rolling down her face, Lilian, in her early twenties,
said<br>
she recognised some of her assailants as local men from her<br>
home area near Bindura, 60 miles north of Harare. 'All I want is<br>
justice and all I can do is cry,' she said softly.<br><br>
Both Felicia and Lilian are now in hiding but risked their lives to<br>
reveal the horrors they endured; their names have been changed<br>
at their request. Their revelations come as the militia and war<br>
veterans indulge in a new wave of political violence.<br><br>
After resorting to rampant electoral fraud in this month's
election,<br>
President Mugabe is desperate to ensure that the MDC can<br>
never again mount such a strong political challenge to his<br>
regime. Across the country, opposition activists have been<br>
attacked, forced to pay heavy 'fines', hounded from their homes<br>
and - in at least six cases since the election - killed by Zanu-PF<br>
mobs.<br><br>
White farmers are also being targeted: in Zanu-PF's<br>
Mashonaland strongholds, dozens have been forced from their<br>
homes in revenge for backing for the MDC, while Terry Ford was<br>
shot dead on his farm at Norton.<br><br>
It is local black MDC activists who are bearing the brunt of the<br>
anti-opposition crackdown, however. Laina Marowa, Tsanangurai<br>
Marowa and Dorcas Maneni fled into the bush in the eastern<br>
Manicaland province after serving as MDC polling agents. Mobs<br>
had turned up outside their houses and local Zanu-PF leaders<br>
had ordered them to pay 'fines' of almost £50, a small<br>
fortune in rural areas.<br><br>
Across the country, the MDC estimates that 1,200 of its election<br>
agents are on the run and there are countless reports of abuse<br>
at militia torture camps. Photographs obtained by The Telegraph<br>
reveal that new recruits are still being trained in the Bindura
area,<br>
100 miles north of Harare.<br><br>
Sexual assault has also been used as part of this new strategy<br>
of terror: one 15-year-old girl was repeatedly raped by youth<br>
militia shortly after the election because they could not find her<br>
parents, both MDC activists.<br><br>
According to Dewa Mavhinga, a research officer with the<br>
Zimbabwe Women Lawyers' Association (ZWLA), there are<br>
more than 1,000 female sex slaves being held in 56 militia<br>
camps.<br><br>
'These militia are now in celebration mode,' he said. 'They act<br>
like they're unafraid of anything.'<br><br>
The victims fall into three categories. 'Some are promised<br>
money,'he said. 'Others go in because they're ordered to and<br>
they're too frightened to disobey. The last group are taken into<br>
the camps as punishment for supporting the opposition MDC.'<br><br>
The fear that they will be discovered and killed by their former<br>
tormentors is common among escaped sex slaves, according to<br>
Mr Mavhinga. 'They have been told that they will be hunted down<br>
and killed by the militia and the war veterans,' he said.<br><br>
Even once they have escaped, the stigma attached to rape in<br>
rural areas means that women's suffering continues. 'They can't<br>
just admit they've been raped because they fear their husbands<br>
will not have anything more to do with them,' said Mr Mavhinga.<br><br>
Felicia confirmed the problem as she broke down in tears and<br>
explained that she was married with a small child. 'My husband<br>
works in South Africa. When I escaped I wanted to phone and tell<br>
him but I just couldn't do it. By the time I spoke to him, he had<br>
heard. When he answered the phone, he just said: 'I know'. That<br>
was it.'<br><br>
Asked if she will ever see her husband again, Felicia smiled<br>
sadly and shook her head. 'I don't think so,' she said.'<br><br>
Tales of terror and suffering are not what you expect to read in<br>
Poignant Pearls & Potbellied Pigs and I trust this is the first
and<br>
last time it will occur.<br><br>
I felt you'd want to know.<br><br>
<b>Copyright 2002 Sheldene Chant<br><br>
</b>Ööº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöº*°*ºöÖööÖöo<br><br>
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<b>HOW TO STOP CATS SCRATCHING
FURNITURE<br><br>
by Rose Smith<br><br>
<br>
</b>FLUFFY is using your new chair for a scratching
post...again!<br><br>
Its a very natural thing for a cat to sharpen it's claws.<br>
After all, they are used for climbing, catching 'food' (when<br>
necessary), climbing, perching and defending themselves. Of<br>
course, let's not forget another very important trait that<br>
cat's need claws for...'kneading your leg' when contentedly<br>
curled up on your lap. So, what's a human to do?<br><br>
Get a scratching post!<br><br>
It's relatively easy to teach a cat to use a scratching post<br>
instead of your own furniture (and in some cases...you!). Even<br>
a 'slow' cat will catch on to the idea fairly quickly. Many<br>
pet stores sell scratching posts and furniture in all shapes<br>
and sizes to keep your frolicing feline happy and content.<br><br>
You can also make your own scratching post out of simple<br>
materials lying around your home. For example, take a 4 inch<br>
diameter branch about 2 feet long. Wrap it snuggly and<br>
securely with some rope. Voila...simple scratching post.<br>
Another option is to cover a 2X4 board with old carpeting.<br><br>
Once you have a scratching post (either purchased or home-<br>
made), place it near the area that your cat spends the most<br>
time or next to his favorite 'scratching' place. Now comes<br>
the hard part...waiting and watching.<br><br>
As soon as your cat begins to scratch an inappropriate item<br>
(from your point of view...not his), quickly say 'no' in a<br>
deep voice and pick him up. Take him to the new scratching<br>
post and rub his paws gently over the post, simulating<br>
scratching. You will have to be diligent about this.<br><br>
Whenever you see your cat using the scratching post on his<br>
own, immediately praise him, perhaps even giving him a treat<br>
the first few times to reinforce the behavior. A cat learns<br>
quickly and it shouldn't take long for him to 'readjust' his<br>
habits.<br><br>
<b>Copyright 2002 Rose Smith<br>
</b>________________________________________<br>
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<font face="MS Sans Serif, Geneva" size=2>SHELDENE CHANT is the editor of two <br>
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