Chuck Wants To Be Irish in the Worst Kind of Way

   

  

         Every year, about a week before St. Patrick’s Day, my rascal cat, tries his darndest to assume a different identity.

No longer content to be Chuck, he abandonS his Anglo Saxon name in favor of the more Irish sounding Cathal, which is Irish for Charles and means, “mighty,” “a great warrior.”                        .  

He insists that the dried food he loves to snack on be died a putrid color green.

He dons a most ridiculous leprechaun looking hat because he thinks it makes him look more Irish.

He demands fish and chips for dinner.

And he dances around the house, practicing what he thinks is the Irish Jig.

In honor of St. Patrick’s Day, I thought I would cobble together some little known facts about St. Patrick and the day that we celebrate in his honor, just in case you’re invited to a party and need some trivia to share to appear intelligent.
         And, of course, I want to keep Chuck HAPPY:

FACT #1

     Although many Americans spend St. Patrick’s Day drinking and carousing around, traditionally the Irish spent the day quite sober because of the Lenten season.  In Ireland as recently as 1975, the bars and public houses were closed on St. Patrick’s Day. It was only after the Irish saw how the Americans celebrated St. Patrick’s Day, that they clamored for a change.  

FACT #2

     St. Patrick was first brought to Ireland as a slave when he was sixteen years old in the fifth century. He escaped to Europe, became a priest, returned to Ireland and converted the people to Christianity.  

FACT #3

     The first parade to honor St. Patrick took place in New York City on March 17, 1762, not in Ireland.  Irish soldiers serving in the English military marched through the streets.  Over the next 35 years Irish patriotism flourished, giving rise to “Irish Aid” societies, which sponsored more annual parades, featuring for the first time bagpipes until in 1848 several “Irish Aid” societies decided to unite their parades and form one official New York City St. Patrick’s Day Parade. 

FACT #4

     More than 100 St. Patrick’s Day Parades are held across the United States.  

FACT #5

     Up until the mid 1800’s, Irish immigrants to the United States were middle class Protestants.  When the potato famine hit Ireland, over 1,000,000 poor and uneducated Irish Catholics flooded into the United States.  The newspapers portrayed them as drunk, violent monkeys. They soon began to organize, however, and the St. Patrick’s Day Parade became a show of strength.  In 1948 President Harry S. Truman attended the parade in New York City.  In 1962 Chicago began to die it’s river green on St. Patrick’s Day, starting another Irish tradition.  

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY! 

MY PARANORMAL ROMANCE, WILD POINT ISLAND, IS NOW AVAILABLE IN MASS MARKET PAPERBACK AND E BOOK FROM AMAZON.COM AND BARNESANDNOBLE.COM.   

AVERAGE READER REVIEW ON AMAZON: 4.7 STARS

THANK YOU TO WIKIPEDIA FOR THE GENEROUS USE OF THEIR PHOTOS!

Chuck Visits 300 Year Old Chinese House

Typical crowded bookshelf in Chinese House--just like ours

   


   I can’t speak for Chuck, my infamous cat, but the day I knew we were visiting an honest to goodness Chinese house--well, let’s just say, my curiosity level shot to the roof. 
    We’d been traveling around Beijing for days--and we’d seen the Summer Palace, the Beijing Zoo, the Great Wall, Tianamen Square, and the Forbidden City.  All famous tourist sites.  And they were great, but there’s nothing like seeing the way the real people live.
    “Chuck,” I said to him, “We’re going to be visiting a 300 year old house.  In the Hutong district of Beijing.”  Now, the Hutong district is the historic district of Beijing.  It’s the way the city used to look--narrow streets, one story houses, many of which shared a community bathroom and had a heating system which had to be manually operated--fed coal or wood.  People lived this way until quite recently (ten to fifteen years ago) when the government decided to modernize the city.  

The house we visited in Hutong district, the historic district of Beijing, China

    In fact, when I first visited Beijing and stayed there, I stayed in the Hutong district so that was my memory of the way Beijing looked.  When people asked, what does Beijing look like, I described it as very historic looking--old, quaint.  
    Now, I had returned eight years later to a completely different place.  This new Beijing looked like any other cosmopolitan city.  The streets were jammed with traffic. High rise buildings and malls for shopping filled the city.  In fact, underneath our hotel was a top notch, high end mall with a mega-sized skating rink and all the shops you’d expect as if you were in  New York City--including Kate Spade and Cold Stone creamery.    
    Beijing has a population of approximately 25 million people, so you can imagine the challenges of the housing situation.  High rise apartments replaced approximately 80% of the Hutong historic district.  Our guide Julia, who used to live in the Hutong district, explained that her family had been relocated to an apartment with central heating and a bathroom.  She had no complaints! 
    Today we were visiting a solid middle class family.  Three people lived in this house.  We were invited to a typical country style lunch prepared by the owners’ daughter and her aunt.  The food was served family style.  Platters of food were placed on the table and you served yourself.  The entrees offered were freshly prepared with an emphasis on vegetables.  
    The house itself would be considered small by American standards.  The walls were plaster and painted white.  A few paintings done by the owner were scattered about.  The furnishings were haphazard and reminded one of a college dorm atmosphere.  There was a courtyard in the back with some plants and a bicycle. 

Through this window, you can see the courtyard--the plants and bicycle

The corner of the living room area which shows the paintings hung on the wall.

One of the two bedrooms in the house

    I was struck by the contrast.  This simple house--representing the typical middle class Chinese lifestyle--stood in contrast to the expanse of the Great Wall or the breadth of Tianamen Square or the sheer massive square footage of the Forbidden City.  
    I don’t know what Chuck thought of the house.  He sniffed around, as usual, then growled because the family also had a dog--which was a change from eight years ago.  
    Eight years ago, it was forbidden in China to own any kind of pet other than a bird.  No dogs or cats.  Now, however, one dog is allowed per household.  There is no longer any limit on cats.  
    China, in this regard, has become a kinder and gentler place. 
    But now, we had a definite problem--dog versus cat.  
    Chuck was in the tiny kitchen, sniffing around, when the owner’s daughter walked in with a yapping dog on her heels.  

The tiny, super crowded kitchen where Chuck meets the Chinese dog

Side view of refrigerator--looked amazingly like ours

    Chuck froze.  Then he growled.  
    I have to say--for a cat--he’s got plenty of guts.  
    The dog barked.  But then he also froze.
    We had the typical stand-off, like in the Hollywood movies. 
    Who would be fast enough to draw their gun first and shoot the other fellow down?  Or in this case--jump on the other guy?? chase the other guy??
    I wasn’t sure what was going to happen.
    But, in truth, nothing did.  Or, had a chance to.
    I grabbed onto Chuck.   The owner tackled her dog.  We both smiled at each other.  She spoke no English,  and I speak no Chinese.  
    She disappeared into the other room with her dog.   
    “Chuck, is that any way to behave?  Think of American-Chinese relations.  What did that poor dog do to you anyway?”
    But the Chuckster really wasn’t listening.  Once the danger had dissipated, Chuck went back to what he was doing before--sniffing around--looking for the Chinese version of --yeah, you guessed it-CAT SNACKS.  We don’t call him the “belly-boy” for nothing.


    If you want to read more about Chuck and his antics, log onto www.katelutter.com.  


Wild Point Island, my paranormal romance novel, is now available for purchase at Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble.com in both paperback and ebook formats.  E Book Reviewers gave it 5 stars.  Readers have called it a real page turners.  Even Chuckie likes it when I read it aloud.  


    
     


     

Chuck Rides A Rickshaw in Hutong District of Beijing

Rickshaws lined up and ready to go in Hutong District, Beijing 

Let me make this perfectly clear.
        Riding in a rickshaw down narrow, historic streets in Beijing, China, was not Chuck’s idea.
People may consider riding in a rickshaw fun.  
Cats consider it one unholy nightmare.
Cramped inside my smart bag, allowed to peek out only when we’re well on our way, careening around corners and such, Chuck, no doubt, assumed he would get sick.   
I felt sorry for the kid for being so pessimistic.    
While Chuck moaned and groaned as we made our way to where the rickshaws were being kept, I reveled in the fact that first, I was in China, which is no small feat for a girl from Jersey.  Second, I was in the Hutong district of Beijing, much of which had been destroyed in the last ten years or so to make way for new construction.  And third, and I guess this was the obvious part, I was about to ride in a rickshaw, an authentic Chinese rickshaw, a mode of transportation that pre-dated the turn of the century.  
I was curious to know what that would be like. 
If you read my blog, you know I do my homework.  Of course, I’d researched the history of the rickshaw, and to keep Chuck’s mind off his impending feelings of doom, I
began to explain just what an historic means of conveyance he was about to ride in.
“Chuck,” I said, “the rickshaw is almost always made of bamboo so it’s light in weight.  Nowadays it’s outlawed in most countries due to concern for the workers.”
        Here, I had to admit, I was concerned.  China didn’t have a good human rights policy, and I was anxious not to be part of a group which exploited Chinese workers.
I needn’t have been concerned.  The worker assigned to pull our rickshaw was smiling.  He was happy to have a job. 

Our runner for our rickshaw, happy to have a job in Beijing

  
“Rickshaw comes from a Japanese word meaning ‘human powered vehicle.’”  I explained to him that the word first appeared in 1887 in the Oxford English Dictionary.  There was some dispute as to the real inventor.  Some say it was an American blacksmith by the name of Albert Tolman who invented the rickshaw in 1848 for a missionary.  Others dispute that claim.   
“The first rickshaw was seen in Japan in 1868, but by 1872 there were over 40,000 of them in Tokyo.”  By 1914 the Chinese applied for permission to use rickshaws to transport passengers.  Being a runner for rickshaw was often the first job for a peasant migrating to a big city. 
Chuckie listened intently to all I said.  “So, what do you think?  Are you ready to ride in a rickshaw?  It could be fun.”
He shook his head no.
“Chuck, c’mon.”
They’ve never made a cat more stubborn than Chuck.
“Then keep your eyes closed.  It’ll be over before you know it.”
Bob and I climbed into the rickshaw, and I put my smart bag between us.  One by one the rickshaws took off down the street.  We were traveling at a stready pace on a level street.  After a minute or two, I glanced over and noticed that Chuck couldn’t resist peeking out and looking around.  Then he inched out a bit further.  The slight breeze ruffled his whiskers.
Was the Chuckster actually enjoying himself?
Everything was rolling along fine UNTIL we started going down hill.  The speed picked up.  We transitioned from a wide main street into narrower streets that truly define the nature of the Hutong district.  We passed Chinese houses and small shops.  

Typical Chinese houses and shops in Hutong District

        The wind velocity increased. The turns became sharper.   A few times we almost tumbled out of the rickshaw into the street below.  I grabbed the one side of the rickshaw with my right hand and my smart bag with the other and clung tightly.  
This rickshaw ride was beginning to feel more like an adventure ride at an amusement park.

The streets started whizzing by faster and faster

The blood drained from Chuck’s whiskered face.
His worst case nightmare was unfolding before his very eyes.
“It’ll be over soon,” I whispered to him, like a mantra, more for myself than him. 
But the rickshaw wasn’t stopping.  
Our runnner made a sharp left.  We squeezed down a narrow lane, which reminded me a bit like being shoved down the chute of a cannon.  Suddenly, the momentum building, we shot out of the lane down a cobblestone street.  The rickshaw bumped up and down, and we bounced UP AND DOWN.  
“Hold on.”
A lake appeared on our right.  
For a split second, I had this horrible thought that the rickshaw, our rickshaw, would suddenly careen out of control and topple straight into the lake.

The lake where we almost ended up in . . .

I turned to Chuck--trying to make eye-contact, but he was gone.  My bag was there, but my cat was gone.
IN THE LAKE?  ON THE STREET? 
“Bob, where’s Chuck?  He must have . . .”
Panic closed my throat.  
“Bob, I think Chuck . . .”  But I couldn’t finish the horrible thought.
Bob reached over and grabbed my hand.  “He’s okay.”
“But--”
“He’s in your bag.”
“What--”
Sure enough.  Chuck--my not so fearless cat--had crouched way down into my smart bag.  
By this time, the ride was over.  We came to a halting stop.
My knees were still shaking as I climbed out of the rickshaw.
Chuck gave me his usual Chuck look.  I told you so. 
I turned to Bob. 
“This was a lot of fun,” he said.  “A lot of fun.”


 To read more about Chuck and his adventures, log onto www.katelutter.com.  


Wild Point Island, my paranormal romance, is available on Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble.com.  Recently it was rated 5 Stars by The E Book Reviewers, who said, "At the very core . . . is a multi-level mystery, with plot twists and turns that you never expected. And there is a deep touching love story that grasped my heart and never let go.  This is one book you must go buy now; once you start reading, you won’t be able to put it back down."