Thursday April 22, 2004
..............................Tomorrow is a big anniversary for me. Seven years ago I quit nicotine, and I haven't been back. As anyone knows who has kicked the habit, it ain't easy. For thirty years I smoked a pipe and cigars. I took up pipe smoking in college (in North Carolina, where smoking was almost mandatory), 'cause it was "cool." When my pipes became hopelessly (and grossly) clogged, I would switch to cigars ('til I bought a new pipe).
Quitting was definitely not cold turkey - it took eight years. When smoking became very restricted at work, I decided it was time to quit. I switched to smokeless tobacco during working hours, intending to wean myself off it eventually (gum and patches were still prescription-only at the time). After about a year, I gave up on the pipe and cigars at home (to the Wife's extreme joy), but I would still smoke cigars in my car or outdoors.
Such was the status quo for the next five years. By then nicotine gum and patches were available over the counter, and after years of sucking on the smokeless stuff (and reading about how gross mouth cancer is), I decided it was time for the next step. On my birthday in 1996, I smoked my last cigar and switched to nicotine gum (I thought the gum gave me more options to fight cravings than the patch did).
According to the plan, you're s'posed to cut back on the gum after six weeks, then again after another three weeks, then quit entirely after another three or four weeks, for a total of three months. I was on the gum for eight months. I had gotten down from nine pieces a day to three or four (for a brief period it was two a day), but I couldn't beat that. I switched to the patch, which is a more rigid schedule (one patch a day, no options). Afraid that the lack of nurturing an oral fixation would mean failure, I took up regular chewing gum to replace the absence of the nicotine gum. I ended up loosening three crowns (my dentist makes enough off of me as is), so I abandoned the chewing gum.
I stuck to the patch schedule, except for the last day, when I cut the last patch in half and wore each half on successive days, just to drag it out one more day. When I removed the final patch (on the morning of April 23, 1997), I told the Wife I may be calling her at work all day for moral support, should the cravings return. They didn't. I was surprised. But happy.
Cravings have shown up in rare instances since, but I would quickly preoccupy myself with other thoughts until they passed.
I won.
Wednesday April 28, 2004
..............................April showers are coming down as I type, heralding a sort of Indian winter. We had a couple of really hot 'n humid days last week that begged for air conditioning (although we resisted, relying only on fans and open windows to supply some respite). But with the night's showers comes a cold front with temperatures only a few degrees above freezing. A bit nippy.
And, as is typical this time of year, April showers bring ... weeds. There is some lawn growth, but mostly weeds. Their growth spurt far exceeds that of the grass, making their sporadic appearance throughout the yard all that much more compelling. And with equally sporadic rain, they're usually wet most of the time.
The lawn got its first mowing of the season just four days ago, but the incessant rain brought new life to the vigorous weeds. Yesterday, despite threats of rain and dropping temperatures, was warm and sunny, and the rain had ceased sufficiently for the lawn to dry out. Which meant only one thing.
Mow.
After eight hours at work, the last thing I wanna do when I get home is walk behind a noisy machine for more than a mile while it spits out clippings that irritate my sinuses (fortunately sinus annoyance season has not quite begun yet). But with more rain predicted (and more weed growth inevitable) there wasn't much of a choice. So after feeding Opie, I changed into terminally grubby clothing and performed the required task.
Opie does not differentiate between mowers and vacuums; he retreats from the presence of both. On this occasion he observed from the security of the upper deck. He seemed amused by the futility of it all.
Something we can both look forward to most weekends until October.
Sunday May 2, 2004
..............................The Wife's grandmother died suddenly. It was as is some master switch had been turned off; one day she was happily playing with her great-grandchildren, the next she was gone. But it was a peaceful finish to a very long life. She was 101.
For the first 99 years of her life, she was a resident of Pittsburgh - she came to live with the NJ part of her family only two years ago. Her husband is buried in Pittsburgh, and her plot is next to his.
So bright and early this morning the Wife and her father are driving to Pittsburgh to arrange the funeral. There will be a viewing Monday afternoon and evening, and the funeral will be Tuesday morning.
I have a doctor's appointment Monday morning, after which I will be driving straight to Pittsburgh (a six-hour drive along the Pa. Turnpike). The rest of the local family will be driving out there between now and then.
Grams (as she was known to her family) had a good life; she lived independently up until she broke her hip in a fall (at 96), after which she lived with family members in Pittsburgh and NJ. Except for needing a walker, there were no lingering illnesses or infirmities usually associated with old age. She remained alert ind involved, and was always surrounded by family.
You can't do much better than that. Rest well Grams.
Friday May 7, 2004
..............................Greetings to felines Felix and Sophia in Encinitis, California. Welcome to the Opie Project, guys (and thanks for the kind words). The Foo Gallery awaits your pictures.
Tomorrow my nephew graduates from James Madison University in Virginia and I will be repeating my recent road trip (to Pittsburgh) to the extent that it will be a six-hour drive there, an overnight stay, and a six-hour drive back. However the occasion will be less solemn. Besides the actual ceremony itself, there is a party/family gathering at the nearby home of the graduate's grandparents.
So I've been busily printing out maps from Yahoo and consulting the university's website for details. My sister made reservations at the local Holiday Inn (accommodations are hard to come by at graduation time, and a two-night stay is required, so another niece and her husband get Saturday night).
The drive there will include a leisurely trip through the Shenandoah Valley along the Skyline Drive, which I've always found picturesque and photogenic, and it promises to be a sunny day (after some morning rain). Driving home will be by interstate highway in the dark :)
It's the third college graduation of a niece/nephew in recent years (and in two years there will be another for my youngest niece). But the Wife's five nieces and nephews are still on the To Graduate list, the last of them scheduled for 2019.
I'd like to go back to college when I retire (maybe to study Elder Law).
If it was free, of course.
Thursday May 20, 2004
..............................With the tricky part of the attic renovation having been completed (that being the installation of the pull-down stairs), the boring part remains (that being the installation of the floor).
It should be simple. Just lay the panels of plywood on the joists and screw 'em down, right? Of course not. The electrical wiring for the house crisscrosses the attic at random on top of the joists, most of it where I want to put floor. So it has been necessay to add 1x2" (25x50mm) strips to the top of the joists with notches cut into them for the wiring to pass through. Cutting notches in the joists themselves is a no-no since they are structurally part of the trusses that support the roof.
Temperatures in the attic during the day are unbearable, but after dark with a large fan it becomes much more tolerable. So I've been spending a couple hours each evening this week adding the necessary clearance for the wiring and then adding the plywood panels. I have 48 sq. ft. (4.5 sq. m.) in place so far (less than a third of the planned floor space), so progress is gradually being made. The plywood panels have to be notched to clear the trusses in places, which is being done as each piece is installed. The 1x2" strips have to be notched on an individual basis according to the location of the wiring, but most of them are done and numbered according to position.
Opie catnaps at the base of the stairs where he occasionally can observe me moving about through the opening in the ceiling. He likes to know where I am at any given time in case he decides he wants to eat.
With luck, the floor should be completed this weekend. Then I hafta add some light fixtures and electrical outlets, and the attic will be completed.
Except for moving all the assorted clutter up there from around the house.
Wednesday May 26, 2004
..............................During the last week of May and the first week of June, I suffer. The suffering takes various forms, but each form involves breathing (lack of) and sneezing (lots of). I have pollen allergies that get severe this time of year. But of course I haven't been paying attention to the calendar recently, so I thought nothing of mowing the lawn when I got home from work yesterday.
It wasn't long before I realized my oversight. It started with irritation on my bare arms, which I absent-mindedly began scratching. Then the eyes and nose simultaneously began to liquify. I was annoyed but not daunted. I pushed on, using my now-sweaty t-shirt to wipe my eyes. Which only served to irritate them with pollen. And by now the sneezing had begun in earnest, and they came rapid-fire. But I didn't slow down. I figured I'd get through this and with a little luck I could forego lawn mowing 'til the pollen count dropped way down (usually about two weeks).
So I stumbled along while grass and pollen swirled through my nasal passages, and I sneezed continuously to expel them. I was about ninety percent done (just a small shady portion between the Hundredth-Acre Wood and the big tree at the back of the house) when the mower ran out of gas. To me, that was a sign. The mower was returned to the shed, and I stood motionless in the shower for twenty minutes.
Did you know that sinuses are the unused portion of a more refined olfactory (scent detection) system used by our prehistoric ancestors? As we evolved into creatures that depended more on sight and sound, the sinuses became less and less useful.
I know I could do without them.
Friday June 4, 2004
..............................Today is my birthday. I'm sixty. This is obviously a mistake, since I was 27 only recently. Normally I'm pretty stoic about the passage of time ('cause there's not a whole lot I can do about it), but this is a significant milestone that I'm not so crazy about. It's not a vanity thing - every stage of life has its opportunities, and I look forward to new stuff. But sixty is like the endgame of life, where you start wrapping things up. It separates you from the people who are still unwrapping their lives. You become stereotyped as old. Specific terms apply to you that didn't before, such as "elderly" and "senior citizen." Case in point: the next time you're in a greeting card store, notice the number of humorous cards about turning 30, 40 or 50. But you won't find any about turning 60. 'Cause it ain't funny.
There's a tall rock formation along the Oregon Trail called Chimney Rock. It marks the spot where the broad, flat plains end and the mountains begin; a sign of rough-going ahead for a fully-loaded Conestoga wagon, after weeks of just rollin' along the prairie. Sixty is my Chimney Rock.
Of course you always hear about folks over sixty accomplishing various successes. And there are celebrities like Harrison Ford, Jack Nicholson and Mick Jagger who defy the stereotypes, but they are exceptions to the rule. Which only emphasizes that there is a rule to which they are an exception.
I plan to be an exception.
I think once the looming presence of The Big Birthday has passed, I will begin thinking rationally again. There will be the typical low-key (at my request) birthday party on Sunday, no different from the other birthdays we celebrate. There will be cake and ice cream and alternative sugar-free desserts, and I'll get a colorful assortment of gift certificates (nobody ever knows what to get for me), and then I can get back to "normal" (love that word).
As my first duty as a sextagenarian, I'm going to see the new Harry Potter movie.
Thursday June 10, 2004
..............................The junk-to-the-attic exodus continues. But it seems the more junk we pull out to organize and catergorize, the messier the house becomes. There has to be a point of diminishing returns, where the piles of clutter begin to recede. That will be the turning point, the light at the end of the tunnel, and the reappearance of several heretofore unusable rooms.
It's also the final stage before beginning to construct the Wife's stamping room. That's the next project on the list. Coupla more weeks. She's really looking forward to that.
The Wife gave me a gps unit for my birthday (a navigation-by-satellite device), and there were street maps of the entire country available for it, so I immediately ordered them (using gift certificates from previous occasions). They arrived yesterday on two cd-roms. Every street in the U.S. (purportedly), the location of each able to be tracked using my little handheld unit (with the help of millions of dollars worth of satellites). In an unfamiliar town and need to find a restaurant? It'll find the nearest one and show you how to get there. Not a vital tool in the roadtrip arsenal, but fun.
I also got tools, gifty certificates, a very odd magnetic note holder, a concert dvd by Tori Amos, and the first season of Northern Exposure (one of my favorite shows).
So now all the celebrating and gift-giving and well-wishing is over and done and fading into memory.
But I'm still sixty.
Wednesday June 16, 2004
..............................My allergies are at their worst this time of year. I can't spend more than a few minutes outdoors without having sneezing fits and itchy eyes. So the lawn hadn't been mowed in nearly three weeks and it was getting pretty ugly (the township fines folks who let their property become overgrown). I figured I could sneeze my way through a mowing. I put fresh gas in the mower and got about 30 feet when it died. Nothing appeared amiss until I checked the gas can. It was full of rust, and the gas looked more like muddy water. The same gas that I had just poured into the engine. So I drained the gas tank and the carburetor, bought a new plastic gas can and fresh gas, and tried again. But it wouldn't start. So I took the carburetor apart and soaked everything in clean gas (there was still some rusty gas in it) and tried again. Nothin'.
I still have my old mower, which used to be self-propelled, but had been taken over by rust, including the axle bearings and drive pulleys, which also made the thing hard to push in a straight line. But it did cut grass. So I dragged it out (hadn't been used in over two years), added some clean gas, and gave the rope starter a pull. It broke.
So now I'm looking at two useless mowers. Both are Sears mowers, and I checked the owners manuals for the part number for a replacement starter rope for one and a carburetor overhaul kit for the other. Armed with same, I headed to Sears. But they had nothing. They didn't even have the spark plugs for 'em. But they had hundreds of mower blades for all occasions.
So I could order the stuff online, but it would be next week before they arrived. In the meantime the grass/weeds continue to grow. Frustration levels rose (I wanted the grass cut this weekend so I could stop worrying about it). As I was leaving the store I noticed they had an old-style motorless push mower on sale for $89. I bought it. I call it Plan B - a backup for anytime a power mower gives me grief. It was no more trouble to use than a power mower. And it was new. I finished up in about the same time as I would have with the power mower and got good exercise out of the deal.
I ordered the carburetor overhaul kit (at 3 am - the 'net is cool)) and I'll be back in business before the Lawn Police catch on.
But the next morning the tall dandelion stems that I thought I had mowed down were back. The push mower had just flattened them down and they popped back up again overnight. The lawn looked as scraggly as ever. So I dug in the shed for an old weed whacker that I hadn't used in ten years. And for a reason - it didn't work. But I did find an old electric hedge trimmer that did work.
So there I was out front, bent over at the waist, mowing down dandelions with a hedge trimmer. Coulda been worse - if the hedge trimmer hadn't worked, I woulda resorted to the chain saw.
Now I just hafta get the mower fixed before I hafta do this all over again.
Sunday June 20, 2004
..............................This weekend marks the end of the first six years and beginning of the seventh year of the Opie Project. The website went live on the first day of summer 1998. Opie was seven years old and still kittenish for such a large cat. He's slowed down a bit since then; he no longer brings us live critters to let loose in the house. I think he's finally figured out that it's not necessary - we still love him anyway.
When last me met I had just clogged the power mower with gas from a rusty can. I had to order a carburetor repair kit online, which arrived in a timely fashion on Friday afternoon. Saturday morning I was out on the lower deck, dismantling the carburetor. I laid out the new carburetor parts and followed the minimalist instructions to the best of my ability. I soak everything in clean gasoline (except the gaskets) then blasted it with 125 pounds of air pressure until everything was dry. The new parts were installed, the old discarded, and everything reassembled without any parts left over. The carburetor was reinstalled on the mower and the starter given a test pull.
Vrooomm, as they say.
I let it run a bit, then declared the operation a success. I put the air cleaner back on, filled the gas tank (with the non-rusty fuel), returned the tools to the work bench, and emptied the air compressor and stowed it away. I was pooped, but there was a back yard that hadn't been mowed in a month, so off I went. I didn't get far. The engine conked out again. Same symptoms. I pulled the fuel line off and out came rusty gas. Apparently some had remained in the tank and I had just run it back into the carburetor.
Having no other choice, I repeated the above steps, carburetor-wise, then drained the gas tank. I blasted the inside of the tank with compressed air until it was dry, then added a bit of gas, sloshed it around, then drained it again, followed by the compressed air treatment. I inpected the tank with a flashlight and found a small puddle of rusty gas had managed to survive. I stuffed some paper towels into the tank, pushed them around with a screwdriver and extricated same with pliers. Then a fresh gas-sloshing and another inspection. Seemed okay.
It started right up. Again. Mission accomplished. Again.
But this time I didn't put the tools away until I had successfully finished mowing the lawn.
Saturday June 26, 2004
..............................The Wife's 16-year-old Bronco II has sat pretty much unused in the driveway for the last few months (since she got her new Jeep). The plan was to sell it before the next registration was due. Oops, that's next Wednesday. And since we're not likely to sell it by Wednesday, the Wife reluctantly paid another year's fees for a current registration sticker. But then there's the rather tough New Jersey vehicle inspection.
So the Wife got up early one day last week to take the Bronco through inspection, only to find that the battery was dead (a not-unexpected occurence in a vehicle that hasn't gone anywhere in months). We borrowed her father's battery charger and let it charge for 24 hours. Tomorrow is another day.
The next day it did start up, as hoped, and the Wife headed for the Interstate. Not that that's where the inspection station is located; she just wanted to blow out the accumulated crud and let it warm up and stretch its legs before subjecting it to the indignities of dynamometer testing and emissions probes.
But before all that she stopped for gas. The attendant (pumping your own gas is illegal in New Jersey. And Oregon. But not anywhere else) flipped open the gas cap door and out swarmed bees. Lots of 'em. They had set up a small hive inside the gas cap door, and the unexpected trip to the gas station had not made them happy. The gas station attendant was last seen disappearing around the back of a building, arms waving wildly. But he returned with a stick, and, after advising the Wife to keep her window shut, knocked the small hive out and onto the ground. A swipe of the stick sent it across the parking lot. Eventually the bees dispersed, and all was quiet.
Anticlimactically, the Bronco passed inspection, so we're good for another two years. That means we're going to keep it as a back-up vehicle until sometime before the next inspection is due. Hopefully not days before.
Friday July 2, 2004
..............................Today is my former college roommate's birthday. We were both 23 then. Now we're not.
When I graduated from college, I began job hunting, focusing on an advertising career. I did my research and practiced my interviewing skills, but all the interviews started to become the same. All my friends from college were in North Carolina and all my friends at home had gotten married/moved away/been drafted. My life for the five previous years had centered around college, and that was done. And there was nothing promising ahead. So I was feeling quite discouraged. And broke.
Around the middle of August I had interviewed for a trainee position in the advertising department of Woolco discount stores. It was a job with little creativity and less glamor, and it was four people crammed in a small office in the back of one of the stores. And it was a 48 hour week. So I didn't give it much thought after I left.
The Sunday before Labor Day weekend, my parents went out to dinner, my siblings had all returned to college, and I was home alone to scrounge up my dinner. I found some left over chili, and I finished off a carton of ice cream. I had decided to ask my parents for some money to go back to NC to look for work. Life was more laid back there, and I knew people who'd lived there their whole lives who might have connections, etc (but mostly it was to have human contact with my peers again). But the chili and ice cream didn't go together so well, and, feeling like death, I went to bed before they got home. The next morning I still felt gross, and my father had left for work, so I postponed the request for cash. So now I was feeling ill and discouraged. Then Woolco called wanting a second interview. So I gulped down some Pepto-Bismol, put on my best (only) suit, and headed out. The short version is that I was offered the job, we agreed on a salary, and I began my advertising career the following Tuesday.
The rest of my life revolved around that decision. If not for that job, I never would have met my wife, never would have gotten my next job, never would haved moved to New Jersey, never would have had Opie or the other felines in my life, etc. And if I hadn't been feeling ill and gone to bed early, I might have gotten a commitment from my parents for cash to return to NC, which would have been encouraging, and since I wasn't that crazy about the Woolco job to begin with, had I been feeling better, I might have turned it down.
So my entire life for the past 33 years has been determined by one meal of chili and ice cream.
Watch what you eat.
Thursday July 8, 2004
..............................I'm still a bit surprised that Opie brought home a mouse a coupla days ago. We assumed he had retired from that activity. He's not as quick on his feet as he was in his youth, and he seems quite content just being in the presence of his benefactors (us). If there's conversation or music or tv going on in the presence of a human, he's there, napping quietly.
A few months ago I began having trouble sleeping. The least disturbance (usually Opie) would wake me up, and I'd have trouble getting back to sleep. So I stopped fighting it. I now sleep in shifts, usually for an hour after getting home from work, then a few hours around midnight, then I'm awake for a couple hours until I finally go to bed. So at 2 am, Opie drops a gift at my feet - a small brown, confused mouse who took refuge behind the box for a board game I had left nearby. Coaxing him into the humane trap took less than a minute, and I escorted him out to the compost heap and let him go.
Opie has always had this look of pride whenever presenting a capture, and it was still there this time. A pat on the head and a coupla "good boy!" praises were in order, and he spent the night at the end of the bed, purring peacefully.
I think Opie enjoys my odd sleeping schedule. It's more cat-like. So we tend to nap together. He's still the nap expert though.
I dunno if this was a fluke, or if he's trying to relive the thrills of earlier adventures. It's kind of a mixed blessing, knowing he's still feeling the enegies of youth, yet we kinda like the idea of not having wildlife taking up residence in the house any more. So far he seems satisfied with the single event.
But if that changes, you'll hear it here first.
Wednesday July 14, 2004
..............................Happy Bastille Day, Francophiles.
It's been really wet around here for the last coupla days. It was one of those Perfect Storm arrangements where three separate weather systems stalled right over top of us. We've had over a foot of rain. So far. There has been serious flooding all around us, although we haven't been severely affected. Eight (count 'em, 8) dams broke flooding a lot of the small towns around us. The local tributary that all this water drains into is expected to crest at around 3am this morning (we're about a mile from it, which should be safe), and there's more rain coming later today and tomorrow. Joy.
Oddly enough, the roads that affect us most are unaffected. Neither of us had any trouble getting to work, or anywhere else. But just four miles from where I work is under five feet of water.
Not that we're particularly dry either. It rained steadily all day yesterday, and the ground is pretty well saturated. But the creek that runs past our house (which has never overflowed its banks) has surprisingly risen only slightly.
Of course the local news is all over this, calling it the Storm of the Century (I believe it's the third storm of the century in the last ten years). Live team coverage everywhere there's water. There has been a lotta damage and inconvenience, but no injuries.
But I guess if it had been my house with thousands of dollars in damages, I'd think of it as the storm of the century too. Practically no one has flood insurance because flooding is so rare.
Opie only knows that it's raining, and that's all he needs to know. He's here, dry and purring quietly.
Tuesday July 20, 2004
..............................Thirty-five years ago, man first set foot on the moon. And he hasn't been back in 27 years.
I had followed the construction of the orbiter and the lander for years, read with interest the various testing done on both, and on the astronauts who would be inside them. The Gemini space flights were just practice leading up to this momentous occasion.
Apollo 8 went to the moon but didn't land; it just circled around it and came home. And I thought that was really something. After the launch of Apollo 11, we had to wait three days for it to get to the moon. But when it did, I was ready. I was at a friend's house watching the occasion on tv.The lander touched down on the moon around 4:30 in the afternoon, but it was another six hours before they ventured out onto the surface. During that six hours Walter Cronkite regaled us with stories of the mission planning and all the work involved, and it was never boring. They continued to broadcast live that whole time. I remember that it was overcast that night and the Moon wasn't visible. I would have liked to have seen it, knowing there were humans on its surface. I went home around midnight, but continued to watch the coverage into the early hours.
I had a cat named Ralph at the time. He watched with me, but I don't think he was much impressed.
It was the overwhelmingly positive feeling that it generated that is most memorable. The feeling that we could do anything, conquer any problem and achieve our goals, no matter how lofty. Everybody seemed to be in a good mood because we were on the Moon.
It was a feel-good day.
Wednesday July 28, 2004
..............................Happy birthday Danielle; hope you and the felines are on high ground.
We escaped the recent flooding that was all around us a few weeks ago, but just last night there were new flood warnings in the area, and we were once again treated to driving rain, thunderstorms and high winds. And once again we escaped any serious conditions.
This being a busy time of year for me at work (and this year has been even busier), I've been getting home later than usual (which Opie doesn't appreciate - he expects to be fed before six). It was sometime after six that I was still hunting and pecking at my computer when a brief brownout struck - the voltage dropped too low for the computer to operate, and the fluorescent lights flashed bright and dim in quick order, while the emergency lighting system buzzed annoyingly, trying to make up its mind whether it was being called to duty. This light show lasted about a minute, then returned to normal, while the wind and rain picked up outside.
Just as I managed to boot up again and get the file I was working on reloaded and saved, the buzzing and flashing resumed. I can take a hint, thought I, and called it a day.
As I was driving home through the wind and rain, I was unaware that a tornado was touching down a few miles behind me and was wreaking its particular brand of havoc. As tornadoes go, it was small (100 mph winds, brief ground contact - an F1 tornado) but it was adequate (tore the roof off an apartment building).
The first I heard about it was on a news bulletin when I got home. They also threw in a few flood warnings for good measure. I went out and checked the creek - still well within its banks.
It rained heavily the rest of the night, but we remain safe and dry and undamaged. Which we appreciate.
Monday August 1, 2004
..............................The year of the home improvement projects moves on. As we begin a new month, we also complete project number 4 (the Stamping Room).
The worst of the work was completed last week. This weekend was some simple wiring for the tv antenna, and power outlets and a jack for the cordless phone. I hooked up the tv and phone and fluorescent lighting, and added hooks below the shelves to suspended a curtain rod that was used to add spools of ribbon at hand, and I assembled a new caster-enabled office chair. Lotsa planning went into the details of creating stamping projects so that everything was at hand, and it all worked out well.
Once I was finished, I collected all my tools and swept up the crumbs of my efforts, and got out of the way.
The Wife then moved in with her arsenal of cleaning gear and went over all the surfaces antiseptically (that room had been a makeshift storage shed for five years), then collected all her tools and swept up the crumbs of her efforts.
For several hours thereafter, we moved her vast accumulation of stamping gear down to its new home. Opie found the whole process fascinating and tagged along for several trips up and down the stairs. When he realized there was no food involved in the operation, he chose to wait it out at the top of the stairs and observe.
Once everything was in place, the Wife turned on the tv and settled in for an afternoon of stamping. She did break for dinner, but quickly returned to her new craft room.
We now move on to the next project - replacing the front steps. I had to save that one for the hottest month of the year.
Sunday August 8, 2004
..............................This is the year of the home improvement project. It began just after the start of the year, and it ain't over yet. Beginning with the bathroom, we purchased the goodies necessary for each project, and stored them mostly in the family room downstairs until they were needed. That's also where the refuse of each project ended up to await disposal. The disposal aspect of each project was a bit slower than the project itself.
As we moved from project to project (bathroom, kitchen, attic, stamping room), the scraps continued to accumulate at a rate exceeding their removal. The family room was rapidly approaching disaster area specifications.
Currently being between projects (the next being replacement of the front steps - a laboriously sweaty prospect), I thought it might be a good time to return that room to its primary function. So early Saturday morning found me separating piles of stuff into that which stays and that which goes. That which stays was then divided into attic and non-attic destinations. Before long the room became recognizable again. The final pieces were attended to by vacuum cleaner.
The downstairs had become so cluttered, the Wife had begun referring to it as the basement. Now we not only have a new stamping room down there, but a revived family room as well. I think Opie enjoyed it more than we did. After a self-guided tour, he found a spot on the overstuffed couch (previously occupied by various clutter for the past eight months) that seemed custom made.
Even though the family room was not on the list for improvement, having it back after eight months is an improvement of sorts.
So I joined Opie on the couch for a while, just to enjoy its return.
Saturday August 14, 2004
..............................I would like to relate something really exciting that happened to me yesterday.
Unfortunately there was no such event. It was just another day on the job, laboring under a monstrous seasonal burden that began in July and will likely continue into next week. It runs the gamut from tedious to boring and back. The fun of being creative isn't there because there isn't time for creativity.
The work flows through like a flash flood, and my job is to bottle it. It's stupid; I get home late and I'm too keyed up to do anything, so I don't, and I end up sleeping through the evening and being awake all night. Then it starts all over again. By the time the weekend arrives, just being able to do nothing seems like an accomplishment.
I have accumulated three additional vacation days via overtime this year; that's something.
Hope I wasn't griping too much. This is my therapy. I'll get over it.
Have a nice day.
Friday August 20, 2004
..............................It's been a week of adjustment for the five souls on board this life-vessel we call home. We are all doing well, from outward appearances, but more time will be required to establish a full complement of comfort zones.
At the top of the adjustment list are Hunky and Dorie. They're still learning all the nooks and crannies of their new home, but they take it all in stride, and they have fun doing it. They have learned to respect Opie's space (Opie hisses at them if they don't, and they understand). They are learning to return to the stamping room at bedtime, and they have discovered the comfort of human laps.
The Wife (who originally sought to add a single kitten to our lives but couldn't bring herself to break up the brother/sister bond of these two) repeatedly comments that she's glad we took both of them. The sum of two kittens is always greater than than its individuals. She lavishes them with attention in the evenings, and they eat it up. They include her in their playtime, and she has the scratches to prove it.
My interaction with Hunky and Dorie is limited to early evening. After feeding Opie, he usually likes to lie out on the deck 'til the sun goes down. I use that time to allow the kittens full access to the house, and to lavish some attention of my own. When the Wife arrives home and Opie comes back in, I ignore the kittens in favor of Opie. The concept of attention-sharing requires a delicate balance.
Opie, the perfect cat, has accepted their presence, though cautiously. He quietly observes their antics without animosity (as long as they keep their distance). He reacted the same way when we first brought c.c. home, and that turned into a perfect friendship. That won't necessarily happen with these two, but we can hope.
So far, so good.
Thursday August 26, 2004
..............................Opie's hesitant acceptance of the new felines has confused us. We expected either indifference or antagonism. We set the kittens up in the stamping room to avoid any antagonism, letting them run around the house only when we're home. At first Opie was merely curious, watching them careen around the house and hissing them away if they got too close. But then he chose to avoid the situation altogether. Whenever we let the kittens roam free, he wanted to go out.
At first we thought that was a help - the kittens could explore their surroundings without running afoul of Opie. But it got to the point where Opie would refuse to come in, even at mealtime. It took some severe coaxing and waving his food dish under his nose. Once the kittens were returned to the stamping room for the night, Opie would then join us, curled up next to me in bed.
After several days of this, we began to get concerned. Was Opie going to shut us out as long as the kittens were around? We certainly didn't want that. The Wife tried to monopolize the kittens' time while they were loose, while I offered lap exclusivity to Opie. But Opie still wanted to be elsewhere and would sit by the front door until we let him out.
Tuesday night we delayed letting the kittens loose, and Opie curled up on the couch by the Wife. At least he hadn't adopted the habit of leaving immediately after dinner. And when we did allow the kittens to join us, he chose to stay and watch. The kittens were their usual rowdy selves, but they avoided disturbing Opie. Eventually they tired and chose to join us on the couch. Once they were in nap mode, Opie ignored them and slipped into a nap mode of his own. It was a promising sight.
Then we tried letting the kittens run loose overnight as a test. They have apparently gotten used to nighttime being nap time because there was scarcely the thunder of little paws all night.
And Opie slept curled up next to me all night, purring softly.
We're gettin' there.
Wednesday September 1, 2004
..............................
Opie is trying so hard to be a good cat. He has tolerated the kittens admirably, even though it's obvious that their hyper-activity makes him nervous (it makes us nervous too - we never know what they'll be getting into next). He thinks that avoiding them altogether is the simplest solution, but we try to coax him back to join us. He has somewhat reluctantly been spending the last few evenings with us, attempting to ignore the mini-marauders as they tear about.The kittens themselves are beginning to calm down a bit. They've become familiar with their surroundings, and they have the run of the house, except when we're at work (we want them to get used to the idea of spending the daytime in the stamping room so they will go there automatically during the day). After this week they will no longer be isolated from Opie.
Hunky and Dorie have already learned from Opie not to invade his immediate space. They will approach him, but remain a few feet away. There is a brief non-verbal staring session, then they go their own ways.
We believe they are also learning the word "No!" God knows we use it often enough. But a simple utterance of the word now results in a cessation of the offending activity. At least temporarily. But it's progress.
However, the wire mesh strainer from the bathtub drain that mysteriously disappeared last weekend still has not turned up.
Tuesday September 7, 2004
..............................It was on the Sunday of the Labor Day weekend in 2000 that we brought c.c. home, and both the Wife and I were aware of that. We talked about her quite a bit, and we thought we should do something to mark the occasion. We decided a tribute page to c.c. was overdue. I had tried to do one earlier, but going through all those old photos of her was difficult. But this seemed to be the appropriate time.
We have declared September to be c.c. month. In addition to the tribute page, each log entry for the month will have a link in the upper right corner that will bring up the corresponding entry four years ago, when we were acclimating c.c. to her new home. We were surprised at how much they correspond to the acclimation of our new kittens.
Also, there will be a fresh picture of c.c. each day this month on the Today page.
For those long-time visitors who remember the posted antics of Opie and c.c., we hope you enjoy the memories. For the newly-arrived, we hope you get an idea of how much she is missed.
Monday September 13, 2004
..............................The local newspaper runs a home section each Saturday, and the feature article of the section spotlights a particular home renovation. Their intrepid sources had advised them of our own kitchen renovation, and we were asked if we would like to participate. Yeah sure, why not?
So we cleaned up the small amount of clutter that had already accumulated on the counters, fridge and table (the table is another tale - see the Wife's latest notes). They sent a reporter to interview us, and she was a very pleasant person who made us feel comfortable talking about the kitchen.
We hadn't planned on telling anyone about it; we were just going to let them see it in the paper. But during the interview, one of the Wife's sisters showed up to see the new kittens, so we had to explain why there was a reporter in our kitchen.
A photographer showed up on Tuesday and spent several hours taking pictures from every angle. Seemed like a lot of fuss for our little kitchen.
The article appeared on Saturday, and they did a nice job of making our simple kitchen renovation into two full pages. The theme was making a dramatic difference in small spaces, and we had to admit it was that. The photos were complimentary, and included a few "before" photos that we had taken ourselves. Opie, Hunky and Dorie all made it into the paper too.
So that was our fifteen minutes of fame. We are now yesterday's news. Okay, Saturday's news.
Sunday September 19, 2004
..............................This past week there has been much in the news about Hurricane Ivan (at least on the East Coast of the U.S.). Predictions of torrential rain, flooding, high winds and all the attendant damage that lets us know that Mother Nature can pretty much do what she wants has been a windfall (pardon the pun) for tv news. Nothing pulls in viewers like the promise of destruction.
Not to be left out, the local news was also predicting high winds, flooding and, naturally (pardon the pun), destruction for our weekend. Of course, nothing happened. Not locally, anyway. There was random stream flooding around the area, but destruction was limited to stuff stored in a few flooded basements.
There was wind, but it didn't howl. There was rain, but it was not torrential. And our electricity went uninterrupted (although there was disruption elsewhere in the county). We had more wind and rain than that last week, before the Ivan remnants arrived. Last night I put the potted plants back out on the deck . I'll get around to unlashing the deck furniture sometime before spring.
So yesterday, instead of battening down the hatches, we jointly celebrated our nephew and his dad's birthdays (both of which occured in the last seven days) with lots of food I should avoid. The nephew got a Cockatiel - but that's another story for another time.
And Wednesday is autumn. Enjoy nature.
Friday October 1, 2004
..............................The renovation of the front steps is continuing, after a couple minor interruptions.
Interruption #1: Hurricane Jeanne (or the remnants thereof). On Tuesday it rained. A lot. I think we got seven inches of rain over slightly more than 24 hours. There was the usual flooding (but not here 'cause we're on higher ground). But it was a deluge. And there was thunder and lightning, which was a new experience for Hunky and Dorie (they didn't like it). They would run out of the room with each incident of thunder, regardless of the room they were in. Opie remained nonchalant.
Using power tools outdoors in heavy rain is generally acknowledged to be a bad idea. I could have spent the day in the garage cutting various pieces of lumber to specified sizes, except for ...
Interruption #2: The Common Cold. On Monday morning I awoke with a sore throat. I thought maybe I had inhaled too much sawdust from all the lumber cutting over the weekend, so I wore a surgical-type mask for all future operations on lumber. But by Monday night I was coughing, sneezing, aching, congesting and generally feeling crappy. It wasn't the sawdust.
So Tuesday I took a vacation from my vacation and curled up on the couch with a blanket, soup, Advil and a stack of dvd's while the wind and rain howled outside. I began watching the first season of Due South and fell asleep during the fifth episode. I slept a lot that day. And that evening and on through the next morning.
I returned to the construction site Wednesday afternoon, but it was slow going 'cause slow was as fast as I could manage. I made up for lost time on Thursday, getting almost all the infrastructure in place. I may actually have everything done by the weekend.
Barring further assaults from Mother Nature and respiratory afflictions.
Thursday October 7, 2004
..............................I live precisely 9.4 miles from work, and five days a week I cover that distance twice, once in each direction. There are seven traffic lights encountered along the route, and over the last fourteen years I have made that trip over 7,000 times. So what are the odds off catching all seven traffic lights green? Apparently pretty small, 'cause it never happened in fourteen years.
Now I don't set out every morning intentionally noting the status of each traffic signal I come to. But the first light on my journey is at an intersection with a major six-lane highway. Each direction has its own green light, so I have to wait through as many as three cycles before my turn, and the lights are controlled by traffic, which is much heavier on the intersecting highway. That is usually an annoying wait to start out my morning.
So catching it green is such a rarity that mentally noting it is a Pavlovian response. And the next light is only a short distance further, so if I catch that one green also, then I'm on schedule to break the red light barrier, and I'm on a mission. Of course the odds are against the third light being green also, so my mission usually expires within minutes. But twice I managed to get the first six green only to be stopped by the final signal, which only strengthened my resolve.
I tried to calculate the odds of getting all seven lights green, but I couldn't figure it out. Even if I assume each light is of the same duration (they're definitely not), it involves mathematical expletives, which I don't begin to understand.
So I just continued to respond reflexively whenever that first light was a green encounter and went from there.
Last Tuesday I got all seven lights green :)
Wednesday October 13, 2004
..............................The Wife and I attended our first Renaissance Faire this past weekend. We had never been to one, but we've known people who have, and they always described the experience in a positive light, so we were looking forward to it.
The Faire in question was in Maryland (every state seems to have at least one to call its own) and it claims to be the second largest in the U.S. We were invited there by some friends from North Carolina who are frequent Renaissance Faire attendees, and they served as our guides through our day in the sixteenth-century (1536, to be precise).
It was pretty much what I was expecting, only more so. I knew people tended to arrive at these things dressed in era-appropriate garb, but I didn't realize the extent of this fashion-conscienciousness. There was a lot of time and effort put into these clothes - they were not your everyday Halloween costumes. They could have been the genuine article, as meticulous as they were.
And the small craft shops were everywhere, and they weren't selling souvenir trinkets either. There was fine jewelry, hand-carved furniture, musical instruments, and, of course, Renaissancewear of the finest quality.
The shows were excellent too, with skilled musicians, actors, comics and artisans (we were fascinated by the glassblowing demonstration). And it was well attended (tens of thousands of people). It turned out to be a lot of fun.
And I got to see Diane and Jon again. I met Diane on the Internet six years ago, and we attended her wedding to Jon last year. We had a quiet dinner together at a local restaurant before saying g'bye 'til next we meet.
And now we return to reality ...
Tuesday October 19, 2004
..............................
The saga of the front steps marches on. It seems that the ladder-type wooden framework sandwiched between the new stair treads and the old brick stairs is a perfect five-compartment catch-all for water. And should the captured water freeze, there's every chance that the support structure for the stairs would split apart. The only solution, short of dismantling the stairs entirely, was to drill a drain hole for each compartment. There were thirty of them. And thanks to the clever logistics of the design, they had to be drilled through solid concrete (which is no longer so solid, which is one reason we're replacing the stairs). Fortunately I had a right-angle drill and a heavy-duty masonry bit that accomplished the task in a bit under two hours.
I'm on my own this week. The Wife is in Aruba with friends, having a good time. She called Sunday night while I was sleeping off a day of manual labor and left a recorded report of her first coupla days (basically, they sat on the beach, waded in the Caribbean and indulged in non-diet eating). Temperatures are in the 80's (F., 28 C.) there, while here we've dropped into the thirties (F., 2-5 C.) overnight. It's definitely gotten chilly.
Home Depot has Christmas decorations up in its stores.
This front step construction nonsense has proved to be a lot of hard labor. I've got an encyclopedia of sore muscles. And the exhaustion holds off until work is complete for the day, then hits all at once.
Now you don't suppose that, currently being the only human in a three-cat household, I could spend the evening relaxing, do you? Try resting up from a day of physical exertion with a 21-lb. (10 kg) Opie in your lap and two extremely curious kittens crawling all over you.
But the front steps project will be completed by the weekend, before the Wife gets home. Assuming I survive, of course.
Monday October 25, 2004
..............................
Much has been made about the Windows XP Service Pack 2, which allegedly plugs holes in its security system. If you have XP and have automatic updates actuated, you will eventually receive a free download of Service Pack 2. The Wife received hers several weeks ago and installed it without any issues. My update arrived yesterday, and I activated it using the recommended settings.
The Wife and I share a DSL line and high-speed modem, connected through a universal 10 Base-T hub; a set up which always worked fine. Until I installed Service Pack 2.
Now it goes through all the motions of connecting but never actually does. It's only been a year since I last set up the computer for the DSL modem (when I reformated my hard drive), but do you think I can remember how to do it? Of course not. I'm going to have to dig through all the paperwork to figure it out. And do you think I can find the paperwork?
After several frustrating hours of searching for instructions and/or experimenting blindly, I gave up and went out and bought a coupla movies to escape into (The Day After Tomorrow and The Alamo). The Day After Tomorrow was all special effects and no plot, and although The Alamo was historically accurate, it revolved around the personalities of the individuals, portraying them as flawed characters who managed to be heroic in spite of themselves. It was interesting.
In the meantime, the Wife's computer will be serving as my Internet connection. She'll be home Tuesday night; maybe she'll remember how to set up the modem.
I hope so.
Monday November 1, 2004
..............................
Halloween ghoul and goblin count for 2004: 77, up from last year's 60, about the same as the previous year's 78. Record low:56. Record high: 108.
On to the next scary event. The following is the "Husband's Election Reform Plan" ...
Eliminate political ads entirely (sounds good already, huh?) Billions of wasted dollers saved. The victor would no longer be the richest candidate.
Create a central election website (crap.gov) where every candidate for every office from dogcatcher to president posts his platform (the site would be subdivided by federal/state/county, etc.). The candidates can use their page to say whatever they want. At no cost! They can add and/or change their message at any time. And voters would be actively forced to find out about their candidates, rather than be bombarded by them. The week before the election, each candidate would submit his resume to the wire services/local papers, so that voters could compare them side-by-side.
You say voters won’t bother to do the research? You think they do now? They tune out those billions of dollars of advertising and stare dumbly at the panel of names in the voting booth, awaiting divine intervention. Is there a benefit to making it easier for the clueless to vote? Did you think the incumbent’s advantage meant they were the best person for the job?
What about people without internet access? Introduce them to the library. The government’s "matching campaign funds" (which would no longer apply) would go to providing terminals at every library strictly for the purpose of accessing crap.gov. Take it further: put a terminal in every post office. Or every shopping mall. Someday we’ll be voting on the ‘net, y’know?
Every position on the voting machine would include a "no confidence" choice. If No Confidence receives the majority of votes, all candidates for that office are eliminated, and a new election for that office would be required. Eliminates the lesser-of-two-evils choice.
Tax cuts (every candidate promises 'em) would only go to those who vote.
Election day should be two days long, with results reported after the first day. Dunno if that would help, but it would make it interesting. Kinda like a halftime report.
But I had you after "eliminate political ads entirely," didn’t I?
Sunday November 7, 2004
..............................
Windows Service Pack 2 still, how you say, sucks.
It's blocking me from access to the DSL modem (kinda necessary for getting on the 'net). I figured I'd dig through the appropriate Microsoft help pages and figure it out, while examining the various system files on my computer and comparing them to the configuration of the same files on the Wife's computer (which also has Service Pack 2 with no modem access problems), but I'm getting nowhere. It's been this way since last Tuesday. I've been using the Wife's computer to update the website since then.
I tried random solutions all week, but got really serious yesterday, spending hours methodically investigating all possibilities. Still nothing.
When I first downloaded Service Pack 2, it turned off my Ethernet connection. It took me a day to figure that one out. Then everything worked fine. For about a week. Now, here I am, playing find the glitch.
It's possible the fault is not with Service Pack 2 (though not likely). Today I plan to replace the Ethernet cable the leads to the hub, and switch connections around on the hub. If that fails, I'll uninstall Service Pack 2.
Service Pack 2 is designed with additional security features to protect your computer from intrusion from the Internet's bad guys. Which apparently it succeeds in doing by denying any access at all to the web :)
Saturday November 13, 2004
..............................
I have an internet connection again, with all the new features of the Windows Service Pack 2 intact. I would explain with pride how I accomplished this, but I haven't the vaguest idea. I was just playing around with any configuration I could think of, and suddenly it worked. Moving on ...
Fifteen years ago I changed careers. I went from being a suit 'n tie advertising executive (a vocation I grew to dislike) to a laid-back graphic artist (which I still love). Career #1 was stressful and restrictive. Career #2 was the total opposite. One of the things I did to celebrate my newfound freedom was to let my hair grow out, with no specific limitations. The end result was a foot-long ponytail which I carried around behind me for these many years.
There's a woman I work with who grows her hair all year long, then each November cuts it off and donates it to a charity called Locks for Love. They make human hair wigs for chemotherapy patients who otherwise couldn't afford one. Each year she would suggest that I contribute, pointing out that it would grow back healthier, but each year I would decline. This year I surprised her.
It wasn't just a magnanimous gesture to do good. My hairs were in need of management. They had become tangled and scraggly, with split ends that might have made the Guiness Book of Records. Just trimming the split ends would have eliminated half their length. It seemed the most efficient method involved starting over.
So my shorn locks are on their way to help those who need them. Somewhere out there is a chemotherapy patient destined for graying hair and some serious split ends.
Friday November 19, 2004
..............................
In 1988 I bought a brand new Ford Ranger with everything I wanted. It was the first vehicle I'd purchased that was not a base model. This thing had the upgraded interior, premium stereo, power goodies and a V-6 that still managed over 20 mpg. At the time I was commuting 85 miles a day and having the sound-deadening insulation and the stereo made it a comfortable trip.
It also turned out to be the most reliable vehicle I've owned. I followed the recommended maintenance schedule, and it was eleven years before I had to put any money into repairs (a new heater core).
It also became an art project when I built a custom body for it. I made it a convertible and added parts from 1950's cars for a retro look. It got a lot of attention, which was a lot of fun. I continued to drive it every day.
Two years ago little things started plaguing it. It was hard to start in the winter (bad choke) and it would overheat frequently (leaky water pump gasket). I bought a new Ranger, but kept the old one for the bright and sunny days that convertibles are made for, and I still drove it fairly regularly.
But about a year ago the overheating got worse, so I dismantled the custom work and returned it to its former Ranger configuration. We tried to donate it to charity around Christmas. Bad timing - the charities had more cars than they could use. But with the home repairs scheduled for this year, I decided to keep it as a work truck (hauling lumber, etc.). But it spent most of the past year parked quietly in front of the house.
The current registration expired at the end of this month, so I made the call to another charity, and now it's gone.
And the street in front of the house looks very empty.
Thursday November 25, 2004
..............................
Happy birthday to my brother, a three-time grandfather.
And happy Thanksgiving (U.S. residents only. Happy Thursday to everyone else)
The wife's new camera arrived Tuesday (she ordered the semipro Canon 20D, a digital SLR that uses Canon's line of interchangeable lenses). It was not the compact lightweight digital cameras we'd been used to for the last five years, but compared to a film SLR, it was comfortable and probably a little bit lighter. But she loves it, and that counts for something.
She had it sent Fed Ex, which required a signature, which meant somebody had to be home to receive it, which was secure but annoying, so she tracked its delivery progress online to learn when it would be delivered and took the afternoon off to wait for it (as opposed to making a 40-mile round trip a day later to the Fed Ex distribution center after hours in the rain with proper identification). It arrived in a box with a big yellow sticker with large type proclaiming "signature required." The delivery guy never asked for (or received) a signature.
She had a two-year-old Nikon digital (not an SLR) which I inherited for the extorted price of an exotic-computer controlled dedicated flash for the Canon. The Nikon is 5 megapixels with 8x zoom with all kinds of gadgetry that I will never use (or learn to use). The owner's manual is heavier than the camera and reads like a Stephen King novel. But I will figure out the stuff I need to figure out as the needs arise.
Right now I'm trying to figure out a way around its elaborate autofocusing system. By the time you press the shutter, wait for all the autofocus elements to register, and get an actual capture of the picture, the subject has left the state. Not conducive to hyper kitten photos. But it does take great pictures, once you get one.
Of course, now I want a digital SLR.
Wednesday December 1, 2004
..............................
Ken lost on Jeopardy! For those not keeping score, he'd won 74 consecutive games over several months - more than 2.5 million dollars. But last night it ended. And I missed it. Stupidly enough, I knew he was going to lose this week from the bits of internet chatter I'd picked up - I never paid close attention though, 'cause I wanted to be surprised. Well, I was. I was taking a nap at the time. I found out when my brother-in-law called to ask if I'd taped the show. I hadn't. But it was fun while it lasted.
And now it's December, and the Christmas lights are everywhere. And more and more packages arrive at our doorstep regularly (so far it's all stuff the Wife has bought - I gotta get moving). Things are busy at work, as they always are this time of year, and the overtime isn't helping me concentrate on the seasonal stuff. But it's pretty much the way it works every year, and every year the gifts still manage to get bought, wrapped and delivered.
We're at the Christmas card phase right now, deciding on the cards to send. The Wife hand-makes all our cards, and she's pretty much on schedule with that.
Next is the tree and that's still up in the air. Because of new marauding kittens, we plan on a minimalist tree this year, but we haven't decided if that's a full-size minimally-decorated tree, or a smaller table-top tree. The full size tree might be more kitten resistant (if we duct-tape it to the stair railing). In either case, decorations will be limited to styrofoam balls and ribbons, with low-voltage lights, all safe in the curious paws of the Traumatic Twosome.
So there will be some changes: the Wife's twenty years of accumulated ornaments won't make the tree this year.
And Ken lost on Jeopardy.
Tuesday December 7, 2004
..............................
The Christmas tree is up and decorated. The kittens have a month to figure out how to dismantle it (they've already begun).
We found the tree at the first place we stopped, a small tree farm three miles from home. It was way in the back, hiding between two larger trees. (which made it look smaller). By the time we got it home and into the house, we realized how much smaller trees look in the great outdoors. This tree, while slightly shorter than our usual selection, was a lot wider than we realized, and it has claimed a generous portion of our living room.
The Wife took the day off yesterday and made a buncha red 'n white bows for the tree to go with the 200 satin-covered styrofoam balls. As a substitute tree (in deference to the kittens, we're not using the hundreds of delicate/sharp/breakable ornaments the Wife has collected over the years) it turned out rather well. And it's quite a change from our usual tree, so that in itself offers something new for this season.
When the tree first arrived, Hunky and Dorie spent hours just climbing in and out of it, but they seem to have gotten that out of their system. And why not, when now they can just sit on the floor with all those colorful red balls just a paw bat away.
For the record, they removed eight balls in eight hours. At that rate the tree will be naked by next Wednesday.
Ho ho ho.
Monday December 13, 2004
..............................
I have a habit of not doing laundry until I literally have nothing to wear. That takes about a month, which leaves a huge heap of clothes in the bottom of my closet. Hunky and Dorie find it amusing - they burrow into it and hide if I leave the closet door open. Which I try not to do. More than once I've heard quiet mewing from the closet and have had to let one or the other out (we have to take an inventory of the animals whenever we leave the house to assure they haven't gotten themselves closed in somewhere).
So it takes several loads of washing to get through the heap each month. This usually requires the major part of a day, preferably a weekend day (we have a finicky washing machine that tends to shut off without warning and we occasionally have to go down and kick it to restart it, but that's another story altogether), so I have to negotiate washer time with the Wife (who launders more frequently, but also usually on a weekend).
That day was yesterday. The Wife spent the day Christmas shopping while I pursued my annual attempt at assorted homemade gifts (yet another story altogether) between loads of laundry and kicking the washing machine.
One of those loads consisted of almost every shirt I own. We've had alternating spells of warm and cold weather recently, so I'd been wearing both long- and short-sleeved shirts to work. Swirling around in the washer with the shirts, unbeknownst to me, was a black felt-tip marker that I had left in a shirt pocket. The result was small but very noticeable black spots on every shirt.
Work is casual, and I have a bunch of fashion sweatshirts that will get me by, and there are still a few threadbare shirts in a corner of the closet that will serve if necessary, but generally speaking, I am now shirtless.
Wash with care.
Sunday December 19, 2004
..............................
In the race for sanity, we're heading down the home stretch. Less than a week to go before Christmas. The Wife still has some shopping to complete (which is her goal for today). I have my shopping done.
Which is fortunate, because I was sidelined by something disgustingly flu-like for the last coupla days. It had all the fluish characteristics - fever ,aches, chills, nausea and a really congested, raspy cough - so I happily confined myself to bed all day Friday in lieu of spending a hectic day at work. This is a very busy time at work, and being ill is a major inconvenience, but I was sick enough to figure they could actually manage without me.
I was attended to by all three felines throughout the day. It's odd that when I'm home and moving about, the kittens will generally ignore me and chase themselves around and get into things and basically be kittens. But as soon as I lie down in bed, be it day or night, they're right there, curled up and napping. Even Opie joins us. Not that I'm complaining. Purring felines are powerful health aids.
By mid-afternoon the fever had broken (which I'd had less than 24 hours - the flu usually drags on for days), and I was feeling much better, although still very weak. And the thought of eating anything killed my appetite. I did go out briefly (I still needed Toys R Us gift cards for nieces/nephews to complete my shopping), but just that totally wore me out, so it was back to bed.
I did not repeat such foolishness on Saturday. We had a Christmas party to go to Saturday night, so I rested up. And while I did manage to attend, I ended up sleeping through most of it.
Today also will be exertionless (although I may attempt some gift wrapping), with felines once again in attendance.
Stay well.
Sunday December 26, 2004
..............................
And another Christmas season concludes. All the hectic weeks of shopping were completed, greeting cards were exchanged in a timely fashion, presents were wrapped by Christmas eve, and the big day was celebrated with friends and family.
In our particular case, we were still wrapping gifts on Christmas eve. We would normally then place them under the tree, to be opened Christmas morning. But since we wanted them to remained wrapped, we decided to hide them away from curious clawed kittens until the morning itself. We then followed our normal Christmas schedule:
--The Wife and I exchange gifts while partially awake.
--Then join Wife's family at Wife's sister's house for brunch and more gift exchanging.
--Then visit with my family, all gathered at my sister's house in Pennsylvania., for more eating and gift exchanging.
--Then return to NJ to the Wife's other sister's house for Christmas dinner and more gift exchanging.
--Return home, exhausted, go to bed.To summarize: Awake, exchange gifts, travel, eat, exchange gifts, travel, eat, exchange gifts, travel, eat, exchange gifts, travel, sleep.
But it was all fun. We hope yours was as well.
January 1, 2005
---Saturday---
Congratulations to Ravi, out in Phoenix AZ, who appears as March 30, 2005 in the new kitten-a-day calendar. Way to start off the year, calendar cat! Ravi can also be seen in the Foo Gallery.
Hunky and Dorie will become full-grown cats this year. We have decided this is a good point to stop calling them kittens - Hunky stands almost as tall as Opie now (but not nearly as wide) - even though they will remain playful for quite some time to come.
This is the weekend we dismantle Christmas (seems like it was just mantled) and pack it away for another year. The Christmas tree and most of the ornaments survived Hunky and Dorie, although we'll probably be picking red satin fuzz from the Christmas balls out of the carpet for a while. We've been debating whether it will be safe to return to a fully-ornamented tree next year, or whether to use the surviving satin Christmas balls one more season. I have a feeling we'll be packing away the styrofoam balls and Christmas ribbon, just to be safe.
We'll gradually be stowing things away this weekend (we had less out than usual this year, fearing disappearance of the smaller decorations due to feline curiosity). The tree will probably remain 'til next weekend (the Wife is always hesitant to let it go). At least it will be easy to undecorate this year (the cats had begun the process the first day it was up). It is then my task to drag it out into the woods to biodegrade while providing shelter for the smaller critters.
And Monday I return to the dentist for my semi-annual check-up. I'll be bringing a broken tooth with me this time, for which he will provide a repair estimate. I spent $4000 on teeth last year; I'm not looking forward to this prognosis.
Back to the real world. Happy new year.
January 7, 2005
---Friday---
So the dentist says, with a perfectly straight face, "$11,500 should make everything right."
For who(m)?!?
My reaction was kind of a stunned silence. It goes like this:
I have two upper molars, one on each side, that have no teeth remaining before or behind them. They're up there all alone. Below each is a bridge that provides a bite surface. But with each bite, the pressure moves the lone molars slightly, like tectonic plates along the San Andreas Fault. This also changes the bite angle on the bridge. Eventually, the molars will work themselves out of the gums, and while in doing so, will increase pressure and cause the bridges to break. Each bridge costs about $3000. So before that happens, the dentist wants to add two new bridges to the solitary molars to stabilize them, and a third below to stabilize one of the existing bridges that shows evidence of migration.
In addition I have a large amount of decay under a filling that is very close to a nerve, requiring root canal, and a subsequent cap. And the broken tooth that I was initially worried about is a lost cause and has to be removed.
I pointed out that we were going to have to agree on something less than perfect. So next Monday I'm having the broken tooth removed, and we will discuss further options, including dentures (which I swore I would never consider). But we're still talking about big bucks.
Just one year ago at this time I was going through $4000 worth of dental surgery, and here I am again, at a significantly higher rate. Needless to say, being periodically bludgeoned for thousands of dollars can seriously affect one's lifestyle. My life is no longer in my own hands; it's in the hands of my mouth.
Smile.
January 19, 2005
---Wednesday---
The tooth saga drags on mercilessly. Monday I returned to the scene of the extraction to have the sutures removed, which was quick and painless and without incident. But just being back in "that place" once again served as a reminder that I have to spend thousands of dollars I don't have on dental repairs I don't care to endure.
I was outa there at ten a.m. with plenty of day left to return to work. But I didn't. I took the rest of the day off. I just wasn't in the mood for routine toils. I haven't worked on a Monday yet this year (that was my third consecutive Monday dentist appointment). Still ahead are the root canal atrocities, a multi-visit procedure that will also be taking place on consecutive Mondays.
I could conceivably take these Mondays off as sick time, but I'm on my sixth consecutive year of perfect attendance (which is rewarded annually with gift cards that increase in value with each additional year of perfect attendance - if I take sick time I not only lose all that, but I hafta start over with the lowest denomination of gift card next year), so all these Mondays are coming out of my vacation time. Fortunately it's a new year, and I have enough vacation time to take every Monday off until the middle of June. Hopefully I will not be doing that.
I should be getting my awards for last year's perfect attendance pretty soon. Are there gift cards for dental repair?
Well, there should be.
January 25, 2005
---Tuesday---
In 1964 there was a record (remember records?) called Woo Hoo (I think). It was an innocuous instrumental punctuated by a background chorus of "Woo hoo" (hence the very clever title). It was a simple three-chord rock instrumental that was nothing spectacular or innovative. But it was catchy. It never was a hit, but it got a month or so of airplay before the newsbreaks. Then it was gone. It was never revived, and it never became a staple of Oldies music. It was laid to rest 40 years ago.
Except a few weeks ago it appeared as background music in a commercial for Chevy Cobalt (a buncha Chevy Cobalts bouncing a ball around city streets). I hadn't thought about it in 40 years. Then - surprise - it appeared shortly thereafter in a Vonage broadband long distance commercial. Twice in two separate commercials in two weeks, after a 40-year dormancy. What are the odds? But then - surprise again - the same Chevy Cobalt commercial changed to different music (an old Yardbirds tune - same era).
I used to work in advertising, and when an ad agency produced your commercial, you had to pay for the right to use whatever music you selected. In return you got a guarantee that no one else would use that music during the run of the commercial. I imagine heads were rolling all over Madison Avenue on this one (national ad agencies take themselves way too seriously). Chevy probably got the new music and the whole spot for free as a result. The Vonage commercial has since vanished.
I decided to see if I could find anything about it on the 'net. I did discover that the song in question was used recently in the movie "Kill Bill" (which I haven't seen yet), which would explain its otherwise-unusual resurgence, but nothing about the commercials.
Such drama, over a coupla commercials you've probably paid no attention to.
February 2, 2005
---Wednesday---
Today is Groundhog Day. What a wonderfully dumb tradition. But it's party time out in Gobbler's Knob (residence of Punxsutawney Phil, the prevaricator of weather for the northern hemisphere - at least at this particular latitude). It's a major celebration each year, and we have considered making the trip (it's a six-hour drive from here), but somehow we've never been sufficiently inspired.
And what a great day to ponder how much more winter we will be having, there being a foot of snow still covering the ground after ten days. Phil has his work cut out for him. At 7:25 am (Gobbler's Knob time), the sleepy rodent of the hour will be dragged from his ceremonial climate-controlled artificial tree stump and placed on the freshly-cleared snow-free ground. As he waddles back to his stump, photojournalists with nothing more newsworthy to shoot, will click their collective shutters with ferocity.
Then everybody drinks or goes home, depending on their degrees of temperance and/or distance to travel.
Don't groundhogs know they're supposed to be hibernating now? Would you plan your springtime activities around the actions of a sleep-deprived rodent?
But TV stations, with exhorbitant, overpriced cost-per-minute airtime, cover this event. So today we will see, several times, a groundhog in western Pennsylvania dragged from his lair, with ruffles and flourishes, when the rodent himself would prefer to be left very much alone. And everybody will smile and be happy.
Except the groundhog.
February 7, 2005
---Monday---
We brought Opie home from the hospital on Saturday. He'd been there for two days having his fluids replenished intravenously. It greatly improved his attitude and appetite.
Saturday was relatively warm for February, and Opie and I spent several hours sunning ourselves out on the front steps. He curled up next to me and purred quietly.
The vet was concerned that his failing kidneys (which cause stomach distress) would affect his appetite, which would further complicate his remaining days. But his appetite didn't wane through the weekend. And he wasn't as reclusive as he had been. He enjoyed lots of laptime while we watched movies.
Sunday the Wife had a Super Bowl party (we live across the river from Philadelphia, and the home team was in the Super Bowl) for her non-sports family members. Opie happily joined the guests and nibbled on shreds of chicken culled from barbecue chicken wings. He even found time to share grooming with Hunky and Dorie. It was good to have him back - it was like he was okay again.
We'll hang on to that thought.
February 14, 2005
---Monday---
I was reading a website on Feline Chronic Renal Failure and the term "Back from the Brink" was used. It referred to a feline being near death but pulled back from going over the edge through treatments as simple as subcutaneous fluid injections.
That's where we are with Opie. His blood levels of creatinine and phosphorus were beyond manageable levels, but the iv fluids brought him back anyway. The website said this was not an uncommon occurence in kidney failure.
We did a lot of reading on the subject, and were very happy to hear our vet say the same things that the websites were saying. He doesn't want to give Opie fluids intravenously unless absolutely necessary because it's very stressful for the cat. He explained subcutaneous fluid replenishment, and if the need for it became frequent (twice a week or more) he would show us how to do it at home so Opie wouldn't be stressed by frequent vet visits.
The vet said Opie's remaining time should be months instead of weeks, but he was quick to explain that fortunes could reverse without notice, and that we should be prepared for that. So we're going to live normal days, one at a time, and deal with the changes as they happen. Opie continues to feel discomfort, but that hasn't stopped him from being Opie. He purrs contentedly in our laps (one lap at a time).
Today is Valentine's Day. We've stopped the traditional chocolate exchange - we exchange dvd's instead. I got a couple Stephen King stories (Dreamcatcher and the Stand) and the Wife got the second season of Quantum Leap (one of her favorite shows). Then she went to Florida. She has a three-day business seminar there.
Happy Valentine's Day. Think chocolate.
February 21, 2005
---Monday---Last week Opie was treated to a follow-up visit to the vet. The vet decided he was a bit dehydrated and gave him a few hundred milliliters of fluids under his skin. The vet explained that it may be necessary to administer these fluids on a more frequent basis. An x-ray revealed an enlarged left kidney, possibly containing a tumor, but there was no way to tell if it was going to affect Opie's prognosis.
We returned home and the next day Opie was feeling better, though weak. But he wasn't eating, and he hadn't peed or pooped in two days. We finally had to start feeding him baby food through a needleless syringe, which got him nourishment, but did nothing to get him to use the litter box.
After a few days of baby food going in and nothing coming out, it was back to the vet. He was dehydrated again, and he got more of the subcutaneous fluids. The vet squeezed him to drain his bladder, but didn't see any reason why he couldn't go by himself. Nevertheless, we got an antibiotic to give him in case there is a urinary tract infection. And there was another unwelcomed development. His body temperature had dropped considerably, and his gums and tongue were pale white. The vet guessed he may be bleeding internally, possibly from the suspected tumor, but she admitted that was a guess. But it would explain the lower temperature and the pale gums.
The anemia could also be caused by the unflushed toxins in the blood and the vet decided that he was ready for daily "sub-q's" (fluids) and gave us an iv bag, some tubing and a bunch of big, ugly needles, and some quick instructions.
So now we're force-feeding him antacids, antibiotics, and baby food twice a day, and sticking needles in his back and holding him while the fluids drain into him. In between he sleeps because he's too weak to move. But he doesn't hold it against us. He still purrs when we pet him. But we worried about how much actual time he has left.
Amazingly, Sunday afternoon he was using the litter box and eating solid food. And he seems much more alert. He still has trouble moving more than three feet at a time, so he doesn't try much (we keep food, water and the litter box within three foot range, plus a fully-enclosed space heater to keep his thin blood warm, and a pile of old clothes to sleep on), but it's a good sign just the same. A brief respite from a trying week.
We will continue doing what we must to keep him comfortable, because he has been adding so much to our comfort level for years.
February 28, 2005
---Monday---
The end of the month that began with Opie's diagnosis of kidney failure. And there were many times we weren't sure he'd make it this far. But Opie's doing better on a daily basis. Most importantly, he's decided to rejoin us, rather than keep to himself in a dark corner. Hunky and Dorie - who had respected his wishes to be left alone - now sleep next to him and take turns grooming his fur. And Opie reciprocates.
Today I was to return to the dentist to have a crown glued into place - a relatively simple and painless procedure. However, a major snow storm is making its way up the East Coast, intensifying as at goes. It's one of those don't-go-out-if-you-don't-have-to storms (known as a Nor-easter). It's being touted (and tv weatherfolk love to tout) as having "near-blizzard conditions" (that way they get to use the word "blizzard" without it actually being one). A blizzard requires sustained heavy snow and high winds for at least three consecutive hours. Still, it's gonna be nasty.
So I copped out on the dentist visit (the dentist is an hour away in Pennsylvania in a town where I used to live). I couldn't see risking life, limb and vehicle for a tooth. I have a feeling they won't be open for business today anyway. Nor will my own place of employment. So I'll be spending another day with Opie, watching the extended news coverage of the storm on tv.
There's gonna be a lot of snow to shovel, but, all things considered, not a bad day.
March 7, 2005
---Monday---
Opie's been receiving daily fluid treatments under the skin for the past two weeks and he's doing pretty good. And he's eating enough on his own to sustain his current body weight. But he spends all his time napping (not that different from his normal self). Although he used to do a lot of that napping outdoors. Currently he chooses to nap on a pile of old sweatshirts we put down for him in the family room.
It was warm and sunny yesterday, and I had to re-drill some holes in the plastic trim we used on the front steps (it was warping outward when subjected to direct sunlight), so I brought Opie out with me. I thought he might enjoy some outdoors. I carried him to the top of the steps, where he stretched out in the sun. While I was removing some old screws, he decided to take a hike. He managed to make it down the six front steps and through the bushes without any apparent difficulty (he'd been very weak lately and hasn't moved around much). He laid out on the grass in the direct sun. I could see him from where I was.
I spent about an hour working on the trim, and Opie would occasionally switch positions, but stayed in the same general spot. When I was done, I asked him if he wanted to go in (he understands "wanna go out" and "wanna go in") and he got himself up and walked around the steps and into the open garage and waited for me by the inside door. Once again, without apparent difficulty, though definitely on the slow side, he made his way back to his pile of old sweatshirts and curled up to nap.
Even in his waning days, Opie is still the perfect cat.
March 13, 2005
---Sunday---
We've been giving Opie a half-teaspoon of Mylanta on a daily basis. The aluminum hydroxide in the Mylanta helps to carry out any phosphorus build-up in his blood that the kidneys no longer manage to do. We also give him a half of a Pepcid AC tablet to calm his stomach (kidney failure produces stomach acid). We also feed him foods high in potassium (for muscle strength) and low in phosphorus (meaning strained baby food).
It's the stomach acid that keeps him from being his usual self. He prefers a quiet spot by himself where he can sleep undisturbed. It also kills his appetite, and he stops eating periodically. We have to be aware of when he's eating, and we have to force-feed him baby food with a needleless syringe when he's not (which he's not too fond of, particularly with an upset stomach).
There is a support group on the 'net for folks caring for their ailing felines with kidney failure. One of the suggestions to encourage a cat to eat involved sprinkling small amounts of catnip in his food. Why not? We'll try that.
He also responded well to boiled chicken the last time he stopped eating. We'll be trying that too.
It's a tough routine, with its own rewards.
March 15, 2005
---Tuesday---
Last Friday we noticed that Opie had only been nibbling at his food, leaving more uneaten than eaten, so we began feeding him baby food through a needleless syringe once again (this had helped before). But by Sunday he wouldn't even accept the baby food. He also couldn't stand on his own. We realized it was time again for a veterinary analysis of his kidney disease, and we would call in the morning. We also realized that it was possible he wouldn't be coming home with us afterward.
We spent the evening with Opie, talking and petting, and I slept on the couch nearby that night. Opie's feet seemed unusually cold (a sign of anemia or possible internal bleeding from the suspected kidney tumor), so I alternately placed old sweatshirts on the heater to warm them up, then periodically tucked a new warm one around his feet. I kept this up 'til I fell asleep around 2am. I reawoke around 3:30 and added some more warm sweatshirts around his feet and petted him. He didn't move much, but he did purr when I stroked his head.
When I awoke again around 4:30am, I couldn't see any sign of breathing, and he was unresponsive to petting. His time had come and he had moved on. But he was still in his favorite sleeping position (chin on crossed paws), so we knew he went peacefully and did so at home, as we had hoped would be the final outcome.
He only survived six weeks after the diagnosis, but it was a good six weeks. He still managed to be active and friendly, and was never in any pain (though six weeks of acid stomach is not comfortable), and he gave us his last six weeks as the Opie we'd always known - the perfect cat, right to the end.