And now for a long-overdue post about Tigers!
Why did I name this blog "Of Tigers and Tea?" I actually started this blog when I was about to go on a six-month mission trip to India. Both tigers and tea are native to India, and both carry a lot of symbolic meaning to me. I thought that those two alliterated nouns gave the idea of exotic adventure side-by-side with an idea of homeliness and comfort.
In an earlier post I wrote in detail about how much I love tea, and all it symbolizes for me. So what about tigers?
Tigers are the biggest cats in the world; even larger than lions. Lions have prides, but tigers are more solitary and territorial.
While I am undoubtedly more of a dog person when it comes to pets, it cannot be denied that I share a lot in common with cats in my personality and mannerisms. For one thing, I am very territorial. Ask anyone who's ever lived with me. There's always a spot that I claim for my own, and if anyone lounges on it without my permission I get annoyed. I have to have a space for privacy and my own sanity. I like to spend most of my free time in that space. I don't do a lot of hanging around in public areas. Be careful hunting me up in my chosen habitat. I'm really good at hiding, though I don't have the gorgeous camouflage a tiger has. And don't startle me, whatever you do. I do NOT take kindly to it. Keep those dang cucumbers in the fridge where they belong!!
Secondly, I love comfort and cleanliness. I like to feel clean, and I like a clean environment. I love wearing and lying on and reclining in soft things. I love to eat yummy things, and I can be rather picky about what I want. I like to be pampered; and though I may seem aloof at first, if I take a liking to someone, I want lots of attention from them. Even if--and especially if I won't ask for it, I'm afraid.
Also, I really like my sleep...unfortunately that passionate desire for it usually manifests itself the instant my alarm goes off every morning. I have to go through all five stages of grief before I even get up!
1) Bargaining: *Hitting the snooze button.*
2) Anger: *seething outrage*
3) Denial: *Lying resolutely motionless, pretending that there will be no consequences.*
4) Depression: *Existential crisis, questioning my life's choices.*
5) Acceptance: "If I don't get up, I *will* be late for work."
You get the point. I've always had an affinity for tigers. They're so beautiful and fierce and lovable all at once. Their snarl is enough to make the heart stand still, and yet they're also giant cats that love to snuggle and tussle and play.
I grew up watching the Disney's, "The Jungle Book." (The animated one, the last one Walt himself ever worked on.) As you may know, the villain is a tiger, named Shere Khan. As a child, I was very frightened of him in the scenes where his teeth and claws are bared. Yet I was strangely enamored of him in the other scenes. His grace, his elegance, and above all, that shrewd, cunning, charming voice of his (played by George Sanders)! When he hits that low note at the end of "That's What Friends Are For," I'm lost in admiration every time.
So much for a villain tiger. Now I'm going to tell you about two very special friends of mine who are tigers.
The first is my buddy Purr, who is pictured in the cover photo of this blog. Purr is a Ty "Pillow Pal," that I purchased from a Tipton Hurst well over twenty years ago. My sister and I had saved up our money for a long time, and our mother brought us to Tipton Hurst, where we knew there was an enormous selection of Pillow Pals.
When my sister and I marched into the store, we found cubby holes reaching to the ceiling which were stuffed with seemingly every available Pillow Pal. I was scanning them eagerly for "Waves," the killer whale. I can't remember why I was so fixated on the whale, but I remember I was set on it. My sister and I had saved up money for months and we were finally here! I could barely contain my excitement.
A "Waves," Pillow Pals did not immediately appear to view. But all at once my gaze was arrested by a cubby-hole right at my eye level that was stuffed with soft orange tigers. I can still remember the silent ecstasy I felt in that moment; how my heart melted at the sight of those pretty tigers.
I stretched out my hands to touch them. Oh, how soft they were! How cuddly and sweet and appealing they were! But then I frowned. I'd been looking forward to getting Waves the killer whale for so long. What if I regretted not getting him when I'd had the chance?
At length I saw the killer whales, stacked on a shelf far above my head. There could be no doubt; my heart belonged wholly to the tigers. I felt sure I would not regret it.
I searched all the tigers' faces, looking for just the right one. That one. There he was. This one was mine now. I gently pulled him out of the stack and instantly gave him a hug. I checked the tag to see what his name was.
Purr. His name was Purr. Yes. That suited him exactly.
I couldn't have been prouder when I paid for him with my very own eleven dollars. And from that day to this, Purr has been a dear friend to me. He was my trusty sidekick for all my adventures. He was fierce enough to protect me from the monsters at night, but was the gentlest companion. He was kind-hearted, always helping the smaller Beanie Babies out of trouble, (self-inflicted or not!) He was a loyal companion. Many secrets I shared with him, many times he helped me reason through knotty problems. He went with me on more than his fair share of trips, including all of my mission trips. Every day when I come into my room he's always waiting for me on my bed with his paws crossed under his chin.
And last, but certainly not least, I must tell of another dear tiger-friend. And that is Hobbes, from Bill Waterson's comic strip "Calvin and Hobbes."
My father owned "The Essential Calvin and Hobbes." Sometimes, for a treat, he'd let my brother borrow it, and he'd read it to me. We'd sit for hours on end poring over its pages. My brother was reading "Calvin and Hobbes," to me before I could read at all. I loved to study each panel and drink in the stories. My brother had to explain every punch line to me, but he didn't mind.
I wish I could explain the profound effect that "Calvin and Hobbes," had on me as a child. It inspired me on so many levels. For one thing, the situations were hilarious and relatable to me as a child. It was a world I shared with my brother, and many a spin-off adventure we made of our own within that world.
As I said, I was hearing Calvin and Hobbes before I could read a word myself. I can still remember the thrill I felt when I first realized I could pick out a few of the smaller words in the panels. It motivated me even more to learn to read. I learned all kinds of long and descriptive words through it. My developing sense of humor was shaped by the dry, shrewd, honest humor of the precocious six-year-old and his tiger friend.
It wasn't long before I could read alongside my brother. We would take turns reading for the different characters. It was good exercise for expression, and it helped me learn to read quickly. I didn't want to slow down the story! Of course, I was already learning that from reading over my brother's shoulder in the car. He read very quickly indeed, and if I wanted to understand what was happening, I had to make sure I reached the end of the page about the same time he did!
Calvin and Hobbes were like real friends to me. Any fangirl today will tell you of the heartbreak she feels when she remembers that the people she is devoted to are not real. I felt that heartache keenly as a child when I was forced to remember that Calvin and Hobbes didn't actually exist outside those books...or outside my or my brother's mind.
Still, for all that, they will always have special places in my heart.
So, there you have it. Tigers and tea. Adventure and home, danger and comfort, sadness and joy combined.
Such is the world inside my head.
~Cadenza
Why did I name this blog "Of Tigers and Tea?" I actually started this blog when I was about to go on a six-month mission trip to India. Both tigers and tea are native to India, and both carry a lot of symbolic meaning to me. I thought that those two alliterated nouns gave the idea of exotic adventure side-by-side with an idea of homeliness and comfort.
In an earlier post I wrote in detail about how much I love tea, and all it symbolizes for me. So what about tigers?
Tigers are the biggest cats in the world; even larger than lions. Lions have prides, but tigers are more solitary and territorial.
While I am undoubtedly more of a dog person when it comes to pets, it cannot be denied that I share a lot in common with cats in my personality and mannerisms. For one thing, I am very territorial. Ask anyone who's ever lived with me. There's always a spot that I claim for my own, and if anyone lounges on it without my permission I get annoyed. I have to have a space for privacy and my own sanity. I like to spend most of my free time in that space. I don't do a lot of hanging around in public areas. Be careful hunting me up in my chosen habitat. I'm really good at hiding, though I don't have the gorgeous camouflage a tiger has. And don't startle me, whatever you do. I do NOT take kindly to it. Keep those dang cucumbers in the fridge where they belong!!
Secondly, I love comfort and cleanliness. I like to feel clean, and I like a clean environment. I love wearing and lying on and reclining in soft things. I love to eat yummy things, and I can be rather picky about what I want. I like to be pampered; and though I may seem aloof at first, if I take a liking to someone, I want lots of attention from them. Even if--and especially if I won't ask for it, I'm afraid.
Also, I really like my sleep...unfortunately that passionate desire for it usually manifests itself the instant my alarm goes off every morning. I have to go through all five stages of grief before I even get up!
1) Bargaining: *Hitting the snooze button.*
2) Anger: *seething outrage*
3) Denial: *Lying resolutely motionless, pretending that there will be no consequences.*
4) Depression: *Existential crisis, questioning my life's choices.*
5) Acceptance: "If I don't get up, I *will* be late for work."
You get the point. I've always had an affinity for tigers. They're so beautiful and fierce and lovable all at once. Their snarl is enough to make the heart stand still, and yet they're also giant cats that love to snuggle and tussle and play.
I grew up watching the Disney's, "The Jungle Book." (The animated one, the last one Walt himself ever worked on.) As you may know, the villain is a tiger, named Shere Khan. As a child, I was very frightened of him in the scenes where his teeth and claws are bared. Yet I was strangely enamored of him in the other scenes. His grace, his elegance, and above all, that shrewd, cunning, charming voice of his (played by George Sanders)! When he hits that low note at the end of "That's What Friends Are For," I'm lost in admiration every time.
So much for a villain tiger. Now I'm going to tell you about two very special friends of mine who are tigers.
The first is my buddy Purr, who is pictured in the cover photo of this blog. Purr is a Ty "Pillow Pal," that I purchased from a Tipton Hurst well over twenty years ago. My sister and I had saved up our money for a long time, and our mother brought us to Tipton Hurst, where we knew there was an enormous selection of Pillow Pals.
When my sister and I marched into the store, we found cubby holes reaching to the ceiling which were stuffed with seemingly every available Pillow Pal. I was scanning them eagerly for "Waves," the killer whale. I can't remember why I was so fixated on the whale, but I remember I was set on it. My sister and I had saved up money for months and we were finally here! I could barely contain my excitement.
A "Waves," Pillow Pals did not immediately appear to view. But all at once my gaze was arrested by a cubby-hole right at my eye level that was stuffed with soft orange tigers. I can still remember the silent ecstasy I felt in that moment; how my heart melted at the sight of those pretty tigers.
I stretched out my hands to touch them. Oh, how soft they were! How cuddly and sweet and appealing they were! But then I frowned. I'd been looking forward to getting Waves the killer whale for so long. What if I regretted not getting him when I'd had the chance?
At length I saw the killer whales, stacked on a shelf far above my head. There could be no doubt; my heart belonged wholly to the tigers. I felt sure I would not regret it.
I searched all the tigers' faces, looking for just the right one. That one. There he was. This one was mine now. I gently pulled him out of the stack and instantly gave him a hug. I checked the tag to see what his name was.
Purr. His name was Purr. Yes. That suited him exactly.
I couldn't have been prouder when I paid for him with my very own eleven dollars. And from that day to this, Purr has been a dear friend to me. He was my trusty sidekick for all my adventures. He was fierce enough to protect me from the monsters at night, but was the gentlest companion. He was kind-hearted, always helping the smaller Beanie Babies out of trouble, (self-inflicted or not!) He was a loyal companion. Many secrets I shared with him, many times he helped me reason through knotty problems. He went with me on more than his fair share of trips, including all of my mission trips. Every day when I come into my room he's always waiting for me on my bed with his paws crossed under his chin.
And last, but certainly not least, I must tell of another dear tiger-friend. And that is Hobbes, from Bill Waterson's comic strip "Calvin and Hobbes."
My father owned "The Essential Calvin and Hobbes." Sometimes, for a treat, he'd let my brother borrow it, and he'd read it to me. We'd sit for hours on end poring over its pages. My brother was reading "Calvin and Hobbes," to me before I could read at all. I loved to study each panel and drink in the stories. My brother had to explain every punch line to me, but he didn't mind.
I wish I could explain the profound effect that "Calvin and Hobbes," had on me as a child. It inspired me on so many levels. For one thing, the situations were hilarious and relatable to me as a child. It was a world I shared with my brother, and many a spin-off adventure we made of our own within that world.
As I said, I was hearing Calvin and Hobbes before I could read a word myself. I can still remember the thrill I felt when I first realized I could pick out a few of the smaller words in the panels. It motivated me even more to learn to read. I learned all kinds of long and descriptive words through it. My developing sense of humor was shaped by the dry, shrewd, honest humor of the precocious six-year-old and his tiger friend.
It wasn't long before I could read alongside my brother. We would take turns reading for the different characters. It was good exercise for expression, and it helped me learn to read quickly. I didn't want to slow down the story! Of course, I was already learning that from reading over my brother's shoulder in the car. He read very quickly indeed, and if I wanted to understand what was happening, I had to make sure I reached the end of the page about the same time he did!
Calvin and Hobbes were like real friends to me. Any fangirl today will tell you of the heartbreak she feels when she remembers that the people she is devoted to are not real. I felt that heartache keenly as a child when I was forced to remember that Calvin and Hobbes didn't actually exist outside those books...or outside my or my brother's mind.
Still, for all that, they will always have special places in my heart.
So, there you have it. Tigers and tea. Adventure and home, danger and comfort, sadness and joy combined.
Such is the world inside my head.
~Cadenza
