Feelin kind of Numb 10-18-08

Went to church and that helped a lot. Staring at the sacred tree, giving thanks and an offering to the universe, these little rituals somehow make things easier to deal with. Maybe it's the comfort of doing something familiar. I wish they could take all the money that they spend on wars and put it toward figuring out how to make people not want to destroy themselves with drugs and alcohol. I did a little art today, and that always helps too. It seems like for me art is another world that you can possibly make perfect. I took a class field trip to Stanford University. Wow! What a beautiful campus. We listened to Vik Muniz talk about his work from clown skulls to garbage dump art. What was great was how he auctioned the photos of the garbage dump art (for big bucks,) and then gave all the money to the poorest of the poor who live there. That is the kind of thing I want to do someday. Hangin in there, -Squerl

Squerl goes to Church 10-19-08

It's been a long time since I went to church. I just want to go and sit there by myself and meditate. I feel so confused about Dad dying, I feel like I need to go and say some prayers for him and mom and me. When I look at St. Squillacious' icon and gaze upon the golden tree, it reminds me that our lives and our earth are precious and we rarely know how much we love things until they are gone. I just want to go and be thankful for what I do have. - Squerl

October 9th 2008 Squerl gets a disturbing call.

I was coming home from school and feeling good because I am doing a lot of art work right now, making some progress. I climb up my home tree and hear the phone ringing. I answered and a voice comes over the phone that I don't recognize...

"Is this Squerl N. Tuttle?"

Yes I say.

" Mr. Tuttle are you related to a Mr. Squerl N. Tuttle Senior?"

Yes I say -who is this?

"Mr. Tuttle we are contacting you to notify you of Mr. Tuttle Seniors death. " What? Who is this? This is the County Hospital. You can come down and claim Mr. Tuttle Seniors personal effects, we have some forms for you to fill out..."

How did he die? I say.

"It was a hemorrhage of the esophagus related to chronic alcoholism. We are sorry for your loss..."

The person on the phone said some more things that I can't remember right now. I haven't seen my dad in over ten years. I barely knew him and what I remember about him wasn't too good. I know my mom divorced him because of his drinking. He was only 41, and now he's dead. He made life miserable for Mom and me when he was around. I thought about calling my mom at her work but I don't want to upset her there. She works the graveyard shift at the paint factory and it's in a rough part of town. Better to let her come home when it's light out and give her the news then. I wonder how she will take it. Why can't I stop crying? -Squerl

Oct-01-08 October is Here!

Now that the chilly fall weather is upon us, many love to don a comfy sweater or knit cap in the evening. I have a natural coat of fur and a bushy tail which I wrap around my shoulders like a scarf to keep me warm. Still, I like to wear wool socks with my badass sneakers when the north winds begin to blow. Occasionally I get snagged on a branch as I'm makin traxx in and out of my home tree. My granny showed me a cool trick you can use on those pesky snags...First of all she said "never cut a snag, cause then you will have a hole, and it will begin to unravel, getting bigger and bigger." She told me what you do is get your squerly self a crochet hook and poke through the back of the garment right next to the snag. Grab the loop with the end of the hook and gently pull it through to the back. Take out the hook, now stretch the wool in every direction around where the snag was and soon, you will no longer have a hole or a snag! Hope it works for ya. I'm goin out to scout around for Kootenscat Kitty. I think I forgot to tell you that I saw her at the party me an Chico went to with Badgy. Boy she's cute. This party was a trip. They had a sign on the front door that said "Turd Museum, All Kinds of Good Shit." The owner was doing art with gun powder on the floor- really cool. Anyway I saw her and she saw me and I said hi - and she said hi back. We both smiled a lot till the crowd kind of swallowed me up and I couldn't see where she was any more between all the I.F.'s and the smoke. Not much else to report but a good start. I have never been shy before, but there's just something about those big green eyes and long white white whiskers. She was wearing a red collar with diamonds and a little gold bell. Anyway, I haven't seen her for a couple of weeks and my eyes are lonely. I think she's afraid to hang out in the neighborhood now- scared of Ratley and his evil gang, most of us with sense are. But scared or not, if they ever touch one hair on her tail I'll kill them all and that punk ass toy Pinocchio they answer to - I swear it. Squerl N. Tuttle