A Little Kitty Trauma

We got a notice from our vet a couple of months ago about needing to bring our cats in for a 'wellness exam.' We were hesitant - 2 month's worth of hesitant, actually - about making an appointment because there is so much trauma involved for them, but finally the guilt over responsibility became too much and I started bracing myself to at least call for an appointment.

Maybe I analyze too much, but it occurred to me that a little pre-planning could maybe minimize the trouble. When we take them in together, they seem to ramp each other up on the hysteria scale with growls and howls and hissing and general 'negative vibe,' so I thought that if we took them in separately, it might help. ('Each alone with his own thoughts' sort of thing.) Also, Maddie doesn't seem to recognize Frik as her dear friend when they come home from the vet (he smells funny, I'm sure, but I suspect she knows she does too and that really makes her mad) so she growls and hisses and bats at him for a week afterwards - making everyone miserable and generally requiring tranquilizers for her to get over it. Clearly they both have to go on the same day but it should be with back-to-back appointments, at least.

So I call for double appointments, explaining all this to the receptionist on the phone at the vet's office. We find a time Mark can leave work early so that he can bring Frik down for the 2nd appointment, while I have Maddie in for the first one. On the day of the appointment - yesterday, in fact - I turn on the fireplace and let Maddie get all warm and mellow in front of it, and then snatch her up and put her in a carrier (without Frik watching, of course) and dash down to the vet office - just down the hill from our house. Mark, in the meantime, is on his way home to give Frik a little something to eat (he likes a little something at that time of day) and then bring him down a little later. Good planning, right?

On our part, maybe...

I got to the vet office with Maddie and they were surprised to see us. They had the appointment listed for today instead of yesterday.... brought Maddie back home again - and she hissed and growled at Frik as soon as she jumped out of the carrier. We weren't up to it again today -just cancelled the whole thing.

'Wellness' is overrated for cats, right?

Mariners Baseball

We aren't really what you'd call classic sports fans, but for whatever reason we've been watching broadcasts of our home team - the Seattle Mariners - play ball this month.

And when you watch sports on TV, you also listen to sports announcers.

Now baseball is a slow game; a quiet, contemplative game, punctuated by Big Action Moments, however few and far between. For the announcers this means a lot of time for idle chit chat and inane statistics, peppered with screams of excitement punctuated with such pithy comments as 'Holy Cow!' and 'Fly Away Baseball!' and 'My oh My!' - comments designed to help them avoid swearing on the air.

And there seems to be a need to demonstrate intimate knowledge of the team and the game and the temptation to imply 'insider' status with the players - Ichiro, Gutierrez, Tuiasosopo Lopez...

For the Seattle announcers, this last bit results in 'nicknaming' the participants - basically creating a diminutive form for all their names - Ichi, Guti,Tui, Lupi... sounding like the 7 dwarfs and Junior. Do you suppose that is really how the locker room chat goes?

I think we're probably focusing on the wrong stuff.

Summer, winding down

As summer is waning, I thought I'd post a few images from the garden - a sampling of this year's dahlias, a hard-won pumpkin (one of many,) and an ear of corn - on a stalk planted by the squirrels. The spider? An uninvited guest on the new dogwood tree - hope he doesn't pose a threat!

Those poor, sad mittens

I've talked about The Mittens here before - a fuzzy chew toy that my cats have been using for years as a communication tool to show their distress at something. The Mittens move around the house while we are gone, sometimes appearing right in front of the door ("you were gone too long") and sometimes by the food dishes (obviously, "I was hungry and you weren't here to open a can!") or even on the bed ("I missed you") or under it ("there was a noise outside!")

Frik travels with his Mittens. They have been with him from Kentucky to Washington, and down and back from Arizona, twice. They go with him to the vet. He carries them around in his mouth when he thinks no one is looking, howling in a low, mournful tone as he wanders down the hall, and then drops them immediately when we notice him. "Mittens? I wasn't carrying the mittens. That would be silly and I am NOT a silly cat."

They were originally 'Christmas' mittens - red and white and 'seasonally decorated' and were supposed to be a gift for my mother's dog, Daisy, for an upcoming holiday. But Maddie fell in love with them as soon as they came home from the store and started dragging them off the bed where they were waiting, along with other things, to be packed up and sent. She wouldn't leave them alone. So the dog got another, larger, set, and these became a fixture at our house. It wasn't long before Frik saw (by then actually, he likely 'smelled') the attraction and took them over. (Maddie didn't care - she has a short attention span.)

He'd been devoted to them ever since. Many was the time we'd come home to find him sleeping with them, or woken up in the morning to find them draped on one of our pillows. They'd move from place to place on a daily basis, and their constantly shifting location was usually our only clue that they were being 'used' - it was rare to actually see one of the cats carrying them around.

And then we went on vacation a couple weeks ago. The cats were alone for 2 days before our house sitter came to stay with them. And she discovered the mittens inside one of the litter boxes, covered with stuff they shouldn't have been covered with, too far gone to avoid a washing.

Alas.

They'd never been washed before. They would have smelled different if washed, and we knew the smell was the biggest part of the attraction. They'd been a veritable beacon to our cats - come get me if you need me - all this time, and now they would smell of soap and softener instead of Maddie and Frik.

They haven't been touched since.

Right hand, left hand

Big in our news lately has been the story of the criminally insane man who escaped from his institution's group on a social outing at a big county fair in Washington. He was on a field trip with a large group of other mental patients, loosely supervised by a couple of staff members, when he simply walked away from them. He had packed all his clothes into his backpack, and had money with him - he was quite prepared. This man had been committed to a state mental institution, permanently and years ago, following his acquittal-by-reason-of-insanity of the murder of an elderly woman. The reason it is 'big news' is obvious: why is this man, who escaped custody once before (and was quite violent when apprehended that time,) out on a field trip to the fair in the first place? What part of 'insane murderer' faded into the background in his case file? And how?

It was 'family day' at the fair, by the way.

People are saying that - oops - the 'government' agencies involved really screwed up. (Are not actual people involved at some point?) I'd say that they did. But I'd also say it isn't at all surprising that they did. And it always comes back to the same issue.

(Pardon me, I'm back on the soapbox against Big Government 'saving' us all.)

The government is NOT going to solve our problems, keep us safe, or make good decisions on our behalf. It can't. It is an 'it.' It has, inherently, a fatal flaw in the 'problem-solving/decision-making/safe-keeping' department - a 'right hand not knowing what the left hand is doing' problem - one of multiple agencies, multiple missions, limited communication, no real possibility of continuity. In this case, the justice 'hand' did its job and committed this evil guy, and now the social service 'hand' is doing ITS job of making this poor guy have a happier life. It isn't really the SAME guy, I guess. Neither 'hand' ever considered that a common goal of keeping the criminally insane away from those he can hurt was expected by society.

I know it is very complicated - but that's in large part the point. We have individual rights. We have laws so numerous and convoluted and open to interpretation that no one has a clue. We have privacy issues and funding issues, policy issues and turf issues. Our issues have issues. We have competing interests, private interests, public interests, foreign interests. We have 'do a favor for my brother-in-law' interests and 'don't offend this group of contributors' interests. We have layer upon layer of decision-makers personally desperate to retain their positions and power and the accompanying graft. Petty bureaucrats work with ego-inflated politicians to influence policy that none of them have ever attempted to understand. We have more 'hands' bouncing balls around our society than the NBA... complications that 'doom' us, not 'excuse' us. We can't ever expect to work them out. Not to make 'good' stuff happen, anyway. They are mostly mutually exclusive.

Without a common vision of simple goals, clearly stated and constantly evaluated, things go wrong. Murderers go to the fair. Our government is too big to achieve anything but. We are expecting it to do 'all things' when it can't even do the few simple ones it was originally chartered to do.

It's time to pull it back, not expand the mess!

Late Summer Gardening

I finally got to that point in the gardening-year cycle where I wanted to tear out everything and start over. The unusually hot, dry weather here finished off the pea plants early and pushed the sunflowers to their limit. The tomatoes are still over-achieving, in spite of the leaves being mostly brown now; the pumpkins are giving it their 'all' in a last burst of expansion... but I was ready, weeks ago already, to clean out the whole business. (OK, maybe not the pumpkins.)

So we got to work. (Poor Mark.) I had designs on one garden space for a new dogwood tree with some grasses underneath - so we got that planted. I'd like to establish a garden space around the shed to make it more 'connected' to the rest of the landscape but that's still just an idea. Quite a few of the new-this-year plants have done very well and I'd like to get more of them to 'repeat' them in other areas of the yard. There was another garden space that already got expanded - and got a new dogwood tree also. (I'd sure like to have blooms next spring!) And I suspect that I should get the bulbs planted that we picked up at the nursery a few weeks ago. Oh, it just goes on and on!

I was hoping we'd had the last of our hot days - but that wasn't to be. It is hot again this week and we are out watering and trying to keep the pumpkins alive. I need to get back out for weeding too.

I do think I need to get pictures of the garden beds this fall, so I know where to expect things to come up again next year. I didn't do such a good job with that this year - although, in my defense, the squirrels planted stuff and stuff came up from the previous year that wasn't supposed to... and we had a bit of chaos that wasn't entirely displeasing. We can do better though!

Isn't that the perpetual gardener though? Wait till NEXT year!!!

Dressing the Mother in the Wedding Party

I don't know why I got off on this tangent so soon, but my son is getting married in about a year, and I'm already wondering about appropriate attire for the mother of the groom. Being of a certain age and weight and worrying about upper arms and ankles and comfortable shoes and bulges, I suspect this is going to provide fodder for some stress for many months to come. Might as well get started with the angst.

So I did a quick internet search. And soon discovered that, evidently, no one actually expects the mother of the groom to be involved in any way. There are Mother of the Bride dresses - but no Mother of the Groom dresses. So right away I have to sidle into their camp and hope no one notices and yells 'fraud.' Good grief.

The second thing I notice, once perusing the pages of designer gowns being modeled, is that the 'mother of the bride' is, seemingly, expected to be scantily clad in lingerie-type chiffon-y gowns, somewhat see-through and with deep v-necklines and strapless bodices, form-fitting silhouettes showing as much skin as possible, and posing in provocative stances in doorways. Mother of the Bride as skanky whore? Whose dream wedding does THAT vision fit into?

Hmmmmm. I wonder how their sales are going?

Even assuming the 'mothers' were in the top physical shape of the 18-year old models now wearing these 'creations,' upstaging the bride in such attire is surely a gaffe. I was sort of hoping for jackets with 3/4 length sleeves and modest necklines and sturdy fabrics. Something with which I could wear sensible shoes, perhaps. Dressy, yes, But nothing particularly showy. Nothing risque. Nothing, quite honestly, that is particularly memorable, the mother-of-the-groom clearly not where the focus should be.

I'm going to need some help. Being 'daughter-less' and having my two super-shopper sisters 1000 miles away, this could be bad. (At least my dear young co-worker assures me that she stands ready to pinch-hit should poor Mark not be up to the task.) I'm not even sure where to look.

But I'm already pretty sure that the internet isn't the place.

I was going to let it go, this year...

Today is my father's birthday. It seems like I can't let it pass without comment, even though I'd thought maybe I should. I don't want to add to anyone else's sorrow on this day, but the sorrow is there anyway, so... I just want to remember the day, and remember him and be happy for the wonderful life he lived and the wonderful legacy he left us. Our lives are full of love and laughter and twinkling eyes and curiosity and outrage and logic... and he was at least half responsible for that (although our incredible mother deserves the other half of the credit - and truth to tell, probably more than that.)

Hope you remembered him fondly today as well.

Confused and Befuddled

I've been reading - for the 2nd time - one of my favorite books by one of my favorite authors. (I'm doing that a lot lately - my favorite writers just don't produce books fast enough!) I read fiction, almost exclusively, but of course always seem to find a goodly bit of the real world - interesting facts about art, geography, natural science, history and the like - in the books I read. And I sometimes enjoy researching the particular bits that I've 'learned' from the story. So, while reading this book, I've also been 'Googling.'

But here I am - a bit confused. My research has led me down a muddled trail - a particular painting referenced in this book doesn't appear to exist. The artist is real, and the subject and even the title are bonifide, but the description of the painting and the year it was painted don't match the titles and years of the 'bonifides.' Very odd.

Befuddling, really.

I am left wondering if the author purposely led us astray... (casting about vaguely here... ) for reasons of copyright/crediting issues perhaps, or the suggestion that this particular painting isn't really catalogued anywhere (which might at least fit with the story.) Or, to be honest, wondering whether this guy doesn't really DO research. Maybe he is just 'winging it' on the basis of some faint, and somewhat inaccurate, memory from his college art history class. (And how do you supposed that conversation went with his editor?)

Mark often accuses me of getting my 'factual' information about the world from the fiction I read (an accusation that, admittedly, has some grounds) and then using it to form the basis of my critiques of politics, foreign and domestic policy... well, you name it, he thinks I've created a 'fluffy' opinion about it based on 'fiction.' He'd say that I tend to do this from TV shows as well, having 'learned' legal precedents from watching Boston Legal, police procedure from The Closer, and medical diagnostics from House. In my defense, I guess I'm thinking I should just be able to assume that someone else has already done the research, and that their research is valid. I'm just benefiting from it in a more enjoyable way than, say, having to read newspapers all the time. Right? (Oh, sure, that's a good assumption.)

(Mark would be the first to also say I wouldn't get 'good' information from reading newspapers either, and I'd enthusiastically agree, but that isn't really my point here.)

The point I AM trying to make here is this: I feel like I need to add a disclaimer to my blog, even after all this time. I probably don't know what I'm talking about. Anything you read here might be a load of fluff.

A reminder...

Just wanted to post a reminder here, for all you devotees to odd holidays, that tomorrow, September 19th, is International Talk Like a Pirate Day.

I just know you will want to plan festivities. We certainly will.

More Yellowstone pictures

Yellowstone

We just got back from our trip to Yellowstone National Park. It was a longer trip than we are accustomed to taking, not without pitfalls as a result, but we did manage to get back without hitting a coyote or some such dreadful thing, so there was that at least. I have pictures to work on, of course, and the odd 'impression' to share about the trip...

Mark liked Yellowstone because it evoked the fantasy of Tolkien's 'Mordor.' The park has not really recovered from the '88 fires (and maybe never will, considering the recurring excess 'fuel' problem) and it continues to go up in flame periodically, as it likely always will. With no clean-up from the 'big' fire and no suppression of subsequent smaller fires, the once beautiful forests are now a thicket of lodgepole pine and not much else. The scorched landscape - burned trunks still sticking up through the pines nearly everywhere you look, along with the geysers, fumaroles, mudpots, steam vents and hot springs - certainly does suggest Mordor, but even more than fiction, brings to the forefront that this area is actually a Super-Volcano, very much alive and capable of an eruption that could possibly end life on earth.

The stuff of family vacations, for sure.

(And steam vents just stink. Not to put too fine a point on it.)

But - the variety of ways in which this super-volcano struts its stuff is astounding. It spouts water high in the air, plops mud about in little piles, boils ponds, vents great clouds of sulfurous steam, creates red and green and blue pools of water and algae, deposits terraces of 'stuff', spews nastiness of all sorts. And then it allows rivers, lakes and meadows to fill in around the edges, creating serene and beautiful landscapes only to slice through them with ferocious waterfalls that seem to cut down to the very bottom of the earth.

What a place.

I wanted to see it ALL. (Mark, not quite so much.) We did manage the geysers, the lakes, the Mammoth Hot Springs area, a hike to the Natural Bridge, Old Faithful (of course) and several of the waterfalls, including the Upper and Lower Falls of the Yellowstone River. We saw Bison (mostly singe males plodding along the roadway and stopping traffic, rather than big herds of them) and Elk (browsing on the lawn in the little town by Mammoth Hot Springs - not exactly 'wild' but close.) We didn't see any Bear or Moose. We were there late enough to avoid the worst of the crowds but too early for the fall color or too much in the way of 'mating season' frivolity.

There was no shortage of people-watching though. We were entertained by snatches of conversation exchanged by fellow hikers ("I had to train myself to be able to eat at any time when my husband worked swing shifts" struck us as hilarious given the size of the woman who gave off that comment... maybe you had to have been there) and by how many people just couldn't resist sticking their fingers in the boiling pools of water (Ouch!) to see if they were really hot. We had a very lengthy conversation with a rather drunk couple outside of the Lakes hotel one night that was quite entertaining but which they probably won't remember at all, and enjoyed listening in on explanations given by one tourist to another of the various natural phenomenem that were, evidently, a complete mystery to both parties (to this day, I'd have to say.)

Not that we can't entertain ourselves, if need be. We were gone for 11 days of Yellowstone sightseeing, Cody Wyoming museum-viewing, visiting Mark's Ancient Ones in South Dakota - not to mention 4 long days driving to those various destinations. Oh yes, we can entertain ourselves. Mark, for example, speculated for quite some time about how we might be completely overrun by insects if it weren't for vehicle windshields to mow them down. That was only to match my discourse on the perils of feather pillows - ending up with your head flat on the mattress with two flying buttresses aside your cheeks fluffed to the max with the feathers that are supposed to be cushioning your head, while the ends of the quills poke into your ears. And how is it that you can pass one after another of full road-construction crews bringing traffic to its knees, but not find a single person actually doing something instead of standing around? Entertain ourselves? Upon driving through Spokane and passing the 'Frankie Doodle' restaurant sign, Mark broke into a lovely re-interpretation of the traditional 'Yankee Doodle' song (all together now... ♪♫ "Yank my Doodle, it's a dandy" ♪♫) Who else knows a song?

(I realize, upon reflection, that perhaps I should have given a disclaimer, before that last bit, for the more delicate reader to be able to avert his or her eyes. Alas. I didn't.)

Anyway, I was going to share pictures...

Anagrams

This is 'cheating' to put in a blog post - but this is from one of those 'pass it along' emails that I got recently - and, in fact, I couldn't resist passing it along:

PRESBYTERIAN:
When you rearrange the letters: BEST IN PRAYER

ASTRONOMER:
When you rearrange the letters: MOON STARER

DESPERATION:
When you rearrange the letters: A ROPE ENDS IT

THE EYES:
When you rearrange the letters: THEY SEE

GEORGE BUSH:
When you rearrange the letters: HE BUGS GORE

THE MORSE CODE:
When you rearrange the letters: HERE COME DOTS

DORMITORY:
When you rearrange the letters: DIRTY ROOM

SLOT MACHINES:
When you rearrange the letters: CASH LOST IN ME

ELECTION RESULTS:
When you rearrange the letters: LIES - LET'S RECOUNT

SNOOZE ALARMS:
When you rearrange the letters: ALAS! NO MORE Z 'S

A DECIMAL POINT:
When you rearrange the letters: I'M A DOT IN PLACE

THE EARTHQUAKES:
When you rearrange the letters: THAT QUEER SHAKE

ELEVEN PLUS TWO:
When you rearrange the letters: TWELVE PLUS ONE

(No idea who to credit for this...)