Varied, Variable, Variety
It started as a green site, but there are much better sites that are more concise, eloquent and informative. And i just don’t have enough to say that is smart and new and worth saying. Honestly, I’d rather read what others say or experinec on the topic, I do drivel on quite enough.
So the new focus, in deference to my varied interests, sometimes crossing paths, and sometimes independent spheres of influence upon me, this is my journal for me.
Environment, politics, religion (maybe not), special needs, technology, climate, wellness (mind and body), family and whatever else crosses my path. I no longer enjoy writing by hand (too slow, too awkward) so typing is queen for now, podcasting would be best but my New York thang just doesn’t sound great in recorded format!
So tonight, I reflect, for no-one but me, on Robert Chester Fabia. We have named 2 cats after him, well not on purpose, so perhaps more an indirect name-sake than a purposeful decision to equate the man with the cat. Bobby was not catlike, not stealthy, not cruel and not fluffy, though he wanted to be.
None the less, 2 cats in the life of our family, were named Chester, on a big black and white Tom. he was fabulous and I adored him. He would come home battered and abscessed and I would heal him, he had scar tissued cheeks to bear testament to the battles he would engage in, I fancied that his opponent looked the worse for the wear, in hindsight, I wonder if my big fat cat was getting whooped all over Tolleson.
Bobby came to visit us in Tolleson and when I introduced him to our fat, war-torn tom cat, he said ‘my middle name is Chester!’, and while I have forgotten most middle names and many, many first names, Bobby’s middle name will stick for eternity.
When we left Tolleson to live in the deep, barren desert, our Chester was loathe to go. When we left Tolleson for the desert he was not a happy camper, he liked the fields and the horses and the deep grasses in our small meadows of tall bermuda grasses and alfalfa. In hindsight, I did too! He sat on Al’s roof next door for weeks and we would keep coming back and eventually lassoed him into a box (hiss, snarl, think here of the cartoon with rabid Alexandre the cat)! He dies in the desert and old man who probabbly took on a few wild creatures of his own, he died under the mobile home that was first our house in the Sonoran. I buried him under a wild mesquite that grows on 20 acres I now own, across form the place where our solar powered, straw bale home stood – on the site originally home to the mobile home.
But that is merely a Chester reference, what I really wanted to reflect on was my ex-brother-in-law, Bobby. Bobby was found dead of a fire that has been deemed suspicious, his untimely death at 50, listed as a homicide, an unexpected terrible outcome of an arson of a ‘private bar /club’ in Dayton, Ohio. I lost touch with Bobby many years ago, and carry some convoluted memories of him, But here’s what others had to say, in death sometimes, we get to see a person we may not have gotten to know, but I remember Bobby well:
Guest Book for Robert Fabia
But it is a passion that has stayed with him all of his adult life.
