Captain Semantics

Dragons

2009-02-05T16:30:00.003-06:00

Hey, I'm trying out a silly little online game ... we'll see if I can keep dragons as pets, shall we?

2009-02-05T16:18:00.001-06:00

Trying to keep my new dragons alive ...

rrrrgggghhh

2009-01-15T15:13:00.003-06:00

After dismantling and re-mantling one-and-a-half* computer desks, I've decided that CamBolt (sp?) furniture should instead be called "Ouchdammit" furniture.

Who's with me?

*I dismantled one desk and set it aside for donation/trash, then dismantled the second, schlepped it up the basement stairs, and re-mantled it in the office.

While the humans are away (in dreamland)

2008-12-19T08:26:00.001-06:00

... the cats knock over their toy box and drag every single one of their portable toys to right in front of the bedroom door. And knocked over the rocking chair.

Translation: See What You Made Us Do? We Were SOOO Bored, We Had To Fend For Ourselves*!

Poor kitty.

*The headline style of cat-talking is a reference to some delightful books by Doreen Tovey.

There goes the water bill

2008-12-13T11:30:00.003-06:00

Merlin has successfully flushed the toilet on his own. He was thrilled. I am worried.

Scavenging for Kitties

2008-11-26T10:46:00.002-06:00

Backstory: Last week I made a lemon cake with coconut frosting for the DH. I had it sealed in an inverted bowl (cake on the lid, the bowl covering the actual cake) on top of the fridge.

Yesterday morning while I was on my way out the door, I noticed the cats sitting in various places around the living room, just Looking At Me. Since they're usually running and jumping and pouncing things, I knew this was some kind of Urgent Moment. I checked the food dish, and -- sure enough -- they were Out Of Food. It's a gravity-type feeder*, so I jiggled the top to send about a quarter-cup of food down into the bowl. Then I got out of there quickly, promising to feed them as soon as I got home. (In my defense, my shift that morning was starting at 4am, which means I have to open the store for everybody, and they just might notice if I was late.)

At around 3 pm I got home and made immediately for the cat food to Make Things Right. Then I saw that I didn't need to: Merlin (Gravity's Little Helper) had gotten up on top of the fridge and knocked the cake down. How the stoneware plate survived the fall and the plastic bowl cracked to smithereens is anyone's guess, but the lid popped off and a good half of the last piece was now in feline tummies.

Merlin ran right up to the mess, sat down and Looked at me. Well, You Weren't Going To Feed Us, So I Had To Do Something, he huffed.

*Which we got Free! With Purchase of some kind of cat food back in the '80s (I'm not kidding) for Scratchy. I think we even washed it once ... but it's the only piece of cat paraphernalia that no cat has been able to destroy, which makes it in my opinion the Most Miraculous and Best Cat Thing Ever.

Poop Off

2008-11-07T13:07:00.002-06:00

After hearing all sorts of potty-training tales from friends (seriously, there was Jordana, Liz, some other friends of ours and a coworker who were all potty-training toddlers at the same time! I was averaging one poop story per day, minimum. It was awesome. No complaints, really -- you'll find out why), I think this confession is long overdue.

Merlin likes to poop in the bathtub. Dunno why. Couple theories:
1) I don't clean the litter boxes enough for his liking (most likely, kinda)
a) He doesn't like to use certain boxes for certain, shall we say, duties?
b) and the one he does like for that task is also popular with his sisters
2) He objects to the type of litter used.
3) He knows that humans use the toilet, but since he can't get at the toilet properly (we keep the lid down, lest he try to go swimming again) he uses the bathtub as the Next Best Thing.
4) He's Merlin. He is strange.

I'm attempting to clean the litter boxes more frequently/regularly to eliminate Option 1, and we're now trying to isolate Opion 2. Thus, the Poop Off.

I've got three litter boxes (we should have a fourth, according to the books, but we're out of space). In Box One is our regular brand, Tidy Cat Multiple Cat Formula (With Antimicrobial Something-or-Other!). In Box Two is Arm & Hammer's new Natural Formula (made with corn cobs). In Box Three is a Silica formula, which the books say is supposed to be good.

So far the silica is winning out with Novelty Points. Once Molly figured out that the litter wasn't Good To Eat (eugh), they have all taken turns hopping in the box and walking around, with the other two close by, watching avidly. I haven't checked to see if it's actually been used, but it's certainly been occupied.

The Arm & Hammer is a bust. I've used a similar formula before (World's Best Cat Litter, Extra Strength or something), but this one ... waaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyy too much perfume. Merlin took a sniff and actually hopped backward away from the litter. I'm going to make use of their Customer Satisfaction hotline tomorrow. Rule Number One: Cats Do Not Like Strong Smells. Except In Garbage.

The Control Box has hardly been touched (see above re: Novelty).

And Merlin's pooped in the tub again.

I'll report next week with more litters!

The Madness Begins

2008-11-05T22:16:00.001-06:00

This weekend, I had a customer ask for Ocean Salt. "Well, we have sea salt, " I began, trying to ease the correction in there gently. I practically heard the Whoosh of it going over her head.
"No, I need Ocean Salt," she insisted. "It's a coarse grind."

I felt like asking if she had any particular ocean in mind, but even I thought that might be taking sarcasm to an unhealthy level.

Housekeeping confessions

2008-08-01T17:46:00.002-06:00

Trying to keep a clean house* with three young cats has its challenges.

We've learned to get rid of our "in" box on the office desk, because it became a cat bed and Molly routinely removed items from it to shred behind the CPU, where we couldn't get at her. There were several late bills/lost receipts before we became hip to that little trick.

Then there was the cache of socks I found way under the head of our bed (had to actually move the bed away from the wall to get at them). I had noticed that Michael's red socks had made a disappearing act, and figured they had gone to meet the Great Dryer in the Sky. Nope. They had fallen prey to a cat's horde.

We've learned to check the bathtub before starting a shower: Merlin likes to bring toys in there during the night. And knock over any available bottles of shaving cream within reach.

Then there's String. String is Miri's raison d'etre. If it is within reach, she will play with it. If it's thin enough, she will swallow it. I've pulled as much as two yards of yarn out of her at one time. (Pink yarn, too -- looked like I was performing a very complicated disembowelment.) So no string left out at any time.

... And then there's toilet paper. And paper towels (Molly's favorite). And sponges (eh? They travel in our house). And tissue paper. And Q-tips (Miri eats them).

Then there's the reason for this post:
Michael and I had separately noticed that our toaster was smoking when in use. Michael opted (logically) not to use the toaster. I used it anyway, figuring, "eh, it happens sometimes." (Becoming a firefighter was never in the cards for me, it seems.)
Finally Michael, sane man that he is, suggested that perhaps I should check out what was in the toaster that was making it smoke so copiously before putting in those frozen waffles. Oh, all right. Much fishing around (yes, I unplugged the appliance -- I'm irresponsible, not suicidal) with a (wooden) chopstick revealed the source of the smoke:

A chicken breakfast sausage link. That neither of us humans put in there. And the last time I made chicken breakfast sausages was ... ?

Well, that explains why the cats were playing with the toaster a few weeks ago.

* "Clean" is a relative term here, vaguely defined as "anything short of total squalor, depending on the humans' energy levels."

WOW

2008-07-10T10:41:00.002-06:00

It's getting pretty hot/humid these days, which can result in ... shall we say ... more "colorful" customers ... at least that's how we choose to interpret it.

Today, a certain coworker of mine (about 26, Wheaton alum, worked at Honey Rock -- with AndreaW) was ringing up a customer. He must've asked her how she was doing or something equally suggestive, because all of a sudden she's saying (loudly -- the whole front of the store heard her),
"I'm over 60, my boobs are sagging, and if it gets any worse, I'm going to have to pay you for sex!"

O .... ooookaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyy ...

When one of the full-timers saw how he was stammering and completely unable to function after that, he sidled up to the poor young man and said, "Hey, this is your opportunity to create a total WOW customer experience! C'mon, man, take one for the team!"

Caspian

2008-06-24T12:51:00.002-06:00

Just went to see Prince Caspian at the Glen Art this past Sunday (yep, it's still there!*)
It was visually entertaining, the plot wasn't bad**, Lucy is still far less annoying than in the old British version (did anyone else want to give that Lucy a good smack?), the music was lovely, yadda yadda --
then what is the name of all that is furry was up with the music at the end?!? It's a period/fantasy film, people! Contemporary pop does not belong anywhere near there! If you must, put it at the end of the credits, when most people have left the theater! Not when there are still talking lions and girls in fancy medieval-style dresses still on the screen!

Five bucks says Miley Cyrus is in the third movie.

* There is also now a sign at their concession stand that says:
All our popcorn
is made with
CHOLESTEROL.
FREE oil!

Not for Boys

2008-06-16T14:27:00.002-06:00

Ladies, I have found the Wave of the Future. It will save tons of money in the long run, and is way less hassle than anything else out there. This is personal testimony.

Just, ah ... get a pot at a thrift store to sterilize it.

New Blog

2008-06-09T19:50:00.003-06:00

For all you moms out there (you know who you are), I would like to introduce you to my friend, Liz. The link to her blog is right there at the top ... see? She's an amazing person (an MA and 3 kids under 5! Jordana, any of that sound vaguely familiar?), plus she makes fabulous baby slings. She uses primarily batik fabric, all of it 100% cotton.

Anyway, stop by her blog, say hi, and give the lady some book recommendations! (Yay! A reader!)

Not Good

2008-06-02T18:22:00.003-06:00

Something Terrible has happened in the last few years:

I've begun to appreciate cute shoes.

I could blame Michael, who rented me "In Her Shoes" a few years ago when I was sick. I could blame Jennifer Weiner, who wrote the book upon which the movie was based. But I think I should place the blame squarely on the actual culprit:

Estrogen.

Fortunately for everyone, I have a job that requires sneakers. But rest assured, Wes' wedding (if I get an invite) will require New Shoes. And I will have lots of fun shopping for them.

That was so last week

2008-05-06T15:07:00.002-06:00

... after a full night of being unceremoniously dumped on the floor whenever he dispensed with the eye-poking, Merlin has decided that perhaps he should concentrate his efforts elsewhere.

So now he just shuts himself in the bathroom about 10 times a day.

Apparently, he thinks he's a 13-year-old girl.

CuddleNazi

2008-04-28T09:00:00.001-06:00

Merlin has a New Thing.

When I do not dispense with the cuddles in a timely fashion (like, say, 'cause I'm ASLEEP), he pokes me in the eye. Repeatedly.

Justine

2008-04-26T07:22:00.004-06:00

I may or may not have mentioned the kittens' Number One Fan (outside of their nuclear family, of course). Her name is Justine and she's currently in first grade.

First, the setting: our townhouse is set a couple feet off the ground, so steps to the front door, that kind of thing. We also have floor-to-almost-ceiling windows in every room (before you think we're overly posh, let me tell you that the windows are also very Dry Rotted and our landlord can't afford to replace them, so we are currently looking into ways to keep the outside out, so to speak. Does anyone know if there's a kind of caulk or caulk-like substance that will work on windowsills?).

Our kitchen window is on the communal yard side of our house, which means that the kits can -- without having to jump to a windowsill -- watch all sorts of kids playing. And vice versa.

So when we got the kittens last year (already? Wow.) and I'd set up a little corral-fence in the kitchen right next to the window, a certain five-year-old (at the time) girl got to watch the kittens grow up from tiny puffballs to the sleek cats they are now. We couldn't bring them outside until they'd had their shots, however, and the one time we managed to get the cats out before it got too cold, she was at a friend's house. And modern adult/child neighbor relations being what they are, we couldn't very well invite her inside. So she made a habit of coming to our kitchen window after school every day. She kept a small stick near the window and would lightly scratch at the screen and the cats would come running and flirt shamelessly with her. (Molly especially would Pose Like A Supermodel at her. I have no idea where she got that from.) She'd put her hands against the screen and the cats would rub up against her hands. Cue the violins.

Until this past Sunday. We took the cats out, and Justine was home! She got to pat them silly and was the giggliest, happiest little girl in the world. Especially since the cats recognized her scent and were incredibly friendly with her. She drew us a picture of herself at school (everyone: awwww) and has been stopping by the window for a chat/play with the cats every day. Yesterday, her mom let her come inside for a visit. Mom can see into our kitchen from her front step (where she was sitting, watching her older son play catch), so every once in a while Justine would stand in the window and tell her mom she wasn't coming home ever.

Plus, she wore the cats out pretty good. She even got Molly to chase her up and down the hallway -- that cat hardly ever wears out. We managed to get Kermit out of bed for a midnight (for him) snack.

Kids are such fun.

It's Spring!

2008-04-22T14:22:00.002-06:00

We took the cats out on leashes two days ago ... I wrestled Merlin and Miri into their harnesses, handed them off to Husband and Brother-in-law, respectively, then set to work on Molly, who was being A Challenge (suffice it to say that when the time comes to put a screaming toddler into a snowsuit, it will Not Be A Problem. Toddlers don't have 16 claws.). As soon as Molly and I stepped outside, Miri saw the open door and dragged poor Jonathan back inside (all, what, 8? pounds of her), saying She Will Not Go. She spent the rest of the time watching from the kitchen window. All of our windows are floor-to-ceiling and it didn't take Merlin too long to find out that if he stood on the air-conditioning unit, he could be nose-to-nose with Miri. All 3 of them hung out by the window for a while until Interesting Smells called the outdoor cats away.

Merlin did especially well outside and it didn't take him long at all before his tail was up and he was swaggering around like he owned the neighborhood. Odd thing: he loved rolling in the grass, dirt, sidewalk, whatever, and got his leash good and thoroughly wound around himself until he couldn't move anymore. It reminded me of Scratchy, who used to head straight for the biggest patch of dirt in our backyard in Santa Fe and roll around until his normally pristine white fur was the shade of a well-groomed Irish Setter. Fortunately for Merlin, he has sisters to help him out in getting clean so he wasn't subjected to the post-walk bath that became a regular with Scratchy.

Molly started to like the outdoors as well, following everywhere Merlin went (after allowing for a suitable time lapse to make sure the bushes Didn't Kill Him) and doing pretty much everything he did -- except for the rolling part. That's entirely too dirty for the little MollyDolly (but would've been right up Miri's alley, were she to have been there).

Felis vs. Machina

2008-03-04T19:23:00.002-06:00

I have previously mentioned Merlin's Thing about water bottles (i.e. that they Must Be Knocked Over). Apparently, Things With Water Reservoirs falls under the Water Bottle heading.

To wit, our humidifier. Ole Merl found out that not only is there a lot of water to play with in there, but if you knock apart the whole thing, there's a soggy papery treat (filter) inside to tear apart and scatter.

We (I) have tried the following:

1. Yelling at Merlin. Right.

Merlin: 1; Momcat: 0

2. Came up with an ingenious truss (somewhat resembling a bridle) made out of cotton straps and a buckle that effectively held everything down. Merlin studied it for 5 seconds, grabbed one of the straps in his teeth and yanked sideways. Water all over the place, plus there's this great new rope thingy to play with!

Merlin: 2; Momcat:1/2 (hey, that humidi-bridle took all afternoon! Pitypoint.)

3. Immediately after Incident 2, I found a bungee-net that I use to cover the basket on my bike. I hooked it around the humidifier, completely covering the thing with bungee strappage. Again, Merlin studied it for a few seconds (long enough for me to get back into bed) and then we heard the telltale gurgling of the water reservoir. Looked up in time to see Merlin, with a bungee in his teeth, standing about a foot away from the humidifier as he's dragging it across the room. Sproing! And it's all over.

Merlin: 3; Momcat: 1/2

4. Finally, a blash of frilliance. Got some industrial-strength sticky-backed velcro strips, stuck everything together so's you can actually lift the whole thing up by the previously detachable reservoir. Ha! Got into bed, heard aforementioned gurgle, looked up in time to see Merlin picking up the whole dang thing by the power cord and tipping the whole lot over.

Merlin: 5 ('cause seriously); Momcat: 0 (who am I kidding?)

Further bulletins as events warrant.

According to Some

2008-01-31T14:52:00.000-06:00

I have a puffy purple winter hat, which I call my Great-Aunt Maude Hat. I knit it with wool and purple Eyelash yarn and then felted the whole thing so that it looks like a giant purple puff sitting on my head. When I'm home, the Great-Aunt Maude Hat resides in a bin next to our front door.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I trod on said hat. In the bathroom. In the middle of the night. A whole living room and hallway away from where it normally lives. Upon questioning, here is what They have to say for themselves:

Molly: I Have No Idea What You're Talking About. Ooh! Did you bring home chips?

Merlin: You should have seen it!!! This GIANT PURPLE THING was creeping around in the middle of the night, I know, 'cause I was watching, that's what a good cat does, always watching, and I tracked it through the living room, and then when it was about to go into the bedroom and KILL US ALL, I RAN and POUNCED on it, and KILLED it, and now it's dead!!!

Miri: I'm not saying anything happened, but if something did happen, The Hat Had It Coming.

WTF

2008-01-17T21:54:00.000-06:00

I'm typing this without any vision correction, so you'll have to forgive the typos ... I just didn't want to forget this one ...

We have a standard tub/shower situation in our bathroom. Now that the kits have stopped pooping in the tub when left unattended (don't ask), they love it in the bathroom. Best place ever.

One of their favorite toys is the shower curtain. At night, after we've gone to bed, Molly in particular likes to go tikka-tikka-tikka with her paws on the heavy vinyl liner. Very, very loud.

Tonight after my shower, I noticed a little bit of light shining through the shower curtain where no bit of light should be:

Five feet up on the liner is a little hole, surrounded by unmistakable claw/teeth marks.

Update

2008-01-09T10:13:00.000-06:00

Have I mentioned Merlin's Thing?

It's water bottles. They must be Knocked Down. If I've mentioned this before, then just consider this an acknowledgment that it's still going strong. The little boy also doesn't really make with the purring and cuddling -- until nighttime, when I can't get him off me. He must curl up either next to me (under the covers, except for the head, no covers on the head) or on my pillow ('scuse me, his pillow). Usually he paces back and forth between these two locations, and will wake me up if I'm not lifting the covers up for him. All the while purring fit to bust. Love is a very busy thing.

He also loooooves going into the bathroom with us. Don't know why. It's just a Thing He Does.

Molly likes to cuddle when we're lying on the couch. She'll jump up on my chest between me and my book, stand there until I realize that it's Not Reading Time Now, then she'll curl up for a nap. She also still likes to ride on shoulders, although it's a dicey hobby now, as she is too big to just perch. So there's lots of lounging around shoulders and necks. Like right now.

Miri isn't the biggest cuddler, but once you're at the computer, it's all over. That's Her Time. She'll stand in front of the monitor until you stop typing, then jump at your chest until you cuddle her. She's also the one most likely to start purring just because you're looking at her.

Miri and Merlin both also like to play Catch the Cursor. I think a really great, hi-tech (expensive) cat toy would be something like Crimsonland (a game Michael's been playing) with a touch-sensitive screen so the cats could actually play along. I know Merlin would adore that.

Can I keep it? Can I? Can I?

2007-12-12T15:24:00.000-06:00

At least it doesn't shed ...

Not to offend other photographers in our midst ...

2007-12-06T16:39:00.001-06:00

... but I've found yet another artist I'm loving. Interesting concept with vintage equipment. And I like her first name ... if not the spelling ...

Spoliday Hoonerisms

2007-11-16T16:18:00.001-06:00

Sterpids are tookey.

CatSpa

2007-11-14T14:02:00.000-06:00

Last night after I went to bed, Merlin pinned my head down with his front paws and scrubbed my face clean. I started giggling, which I guess caused my forehead to wiggle, 'cause he kept biting my forehead (which is every bit as strange as it sounds) and then combing my eyebrows with his teeth. Possible conclusion: Merlin likes the taste of tea tree oil ...?

At any rate, cheapest microdermabrasion ever.

(On a side note, Michael had to stop using hair gel because Molly kept grooming it out of his hair, and we were worried that perhaps a tiny cat shouldn't be ingesting so much of that stuff.)

The Secret Lives of Cats

2007-10-24T08:22:00.000-06:00

I've been home sick for the past two days (a cold that grew into a Sinus Infection) and I have discovered something about the kittens: from 9 to 10 am, they Destroy Things. They separate and find something in the house that shouldn't be chewed or torn and then they, well, you know. Miri likes to rip at the binding in notebooks and sketchbooks, Molly likes to shred paper, and Merlin just knocks things over and gets them stuck under furniture. (Michael, I believe this is when your water bottle finds its way under the bed. And your alarm clock. And your chapstick.)

Why 9 am, you ask? Why not 8 am? Simple: from 8 to 9, kids are lining up for the bus stop (same bus comes back and picks up different age groups for different schools) right across the street. Various groups stop by our window and watch the kittens, who watch back. Ten am to one pm they play with each other (with snack breaks), 1 to 2:45ish they nap. Then it's time to Watch Kids again. This takes a little longer than the morning, because some of the kids drop off their stuff at home and come back for an encore. The kittens will tag-team and take turns napping, so as to keep up the show a little bit longer. Somewhere in here is when I come home from work, and it's time to Sit On Mama And Make Her Take A Nap. (I don't mind -- wouldn't want to disappoint the kids, you know.)

A Quiet Month

2007-10-24T08:14:00.000-06:00

I was just scrolling through my blog folder and saw that I hadn't posted in almost a month ... yeah, that happens sometimes.

Although I had promised Husband that I would post this one really, really daft thing I did. So I'd better get it over with.

We were coming back from a Trinity (College? University? There's two of them, and it's not the first one you're thinking of) somewhere southeast of here. It was a little late (7:30 -- I get to work at 6 am, people! 7:30 pm is Late!) and I was admittedly very tired. But I was driving 'cause Michael was sick and it was my car, so yeah. I was heading down a long, light-free, two-lane stretch of Roosevelt when the road curved a little bit to the right. So little, in fact, that I didn't notice and thought the truck in the right lane was drifting toward me. I honked and swerved out of the way -- and back into my lane.

So essentially, I almost swerved into a truck, then honked at him and swerved back.

If anyone drives a truck and this story sounds familiar, I'm sorry. I know I'm an idiot.

Who needs Metamucil?

2007-09-25T10:20:00.000-06:00

I just freed Merlin from a two-foot length of poopy pink yarn that was hanging out of his butt.

Reminds me of Scratchy, who used to leave me intact rubber bands in the litter box (he left them with the rest of his leavings; that would be a very strange place for a cat's cache). I viewed them as a gift: a reminder of the vet bill I wouldn't be paying, causing me to send up a prayer of thanks that my cats have Digestive Tracts of Steel.

Which would be a good name for a band.

-- But still, feel free to visit us

2007-09-25T10:18:00.000-06:00

A couple nights ago I was sitting on the living room couch, having just got off the phone with a friend who was offering to help me out in a pinch. After telling Michael about it, he turned to me and said,

"You have very good friends. We must tear their flesh and grind their bones."

Gobbledygook

2007-09-11T16:27:00.000-06:00

Molly with eat anything.

F'rexample, two days ago I had to fight her for the right to eat my own Garlic, Parmesan & Herb pita chips.

Today it was popcorn.

Also, she doesn't just lick the food or chew the food but not eat it (Scratchy would do that -- very messy), she wolfs it down and demands more. And her interest goads the siblings on, because they never want to be left out of anything.

There must be a middle school football game going on soon, because I've seen several neighborhood boys walk by in the last few minutes in full uniform and pads. Miri got a little spooked by the helmets and Doesn't Approve. Skateboards Are Better, she thinks.

The Down Side of Up

2007-09-07T12:57:00.001-06:00

It's my day off, which means that I'm trying to get some "work" done online as quietly as possible, so as not to attract the attention of the Kittens, who can quickly derail Computer Time into No-Don't-Bite-That-Cord-Or-So-Help-Me-OUCH-Don't-Bite-Me-Either Time. Which is why my blog entries are generally not very long.

After 4 months now of cat parenting, I'd say we've done a pretty good job. All 3 of the little guys are incredibly well socialized and will go right up and make friends with strangers, be they adults or toddlers. If fact, the only thing they're really afraid of at this point is the vacuum cleaner. Some interesting points:

They like water. Getting wet will surprise them initially, but they don't mind being wet. I think this has to do with how many baths they had as babies (at least one a day, sometimes more -- they were very messy eaters). This afternoon I was cleaning out their fountain (yes, they have a fountain ... what?) and left a large bowl filled with water out for the kittens' drinking water. When I got back to set up the fountain again, the bowl was almost empty ... and Merlin was standing in it, with the other two hovering nearby, waiting for their turns. The carpet was soaked, as were all the kittens from the knees down.

Molly and Merlin especially like riding on people. Correction: Molly likes riding on people, and Merlin is not about to be outdone by Molly. I have yet to teach them to 1) ask permission first (or at least give a warning noise) or 2) jump, not climb, to a person's shoulder.

A surprise effect of having Daffodil around for a few months is that the kittens now know how to approach a strange animal with respect. Case in point: we had made our bed (rare occurrence) and put some stuffed animals on the bed. Merlin jumped up to see me, and as soon as he saw the teddy bear, he slowed down and started doing the deferential head-bob as he approached. When he got to the bear, he reached out his head and touched noses with it. Once he knew it wasn't alive, he snapped back into normal Merlin mode (and started attacking my hair).

Molly loves exploring our kitchen surfaces. She has both stuck her head down into the garbage disposal and jumped up onto our gas stovetop (this morning).

Finally, most of our clothes are now on the floor of our bedroom, because putting away clean clothes would involve opening the closet door.
Miri, however, is not much of a climber.

When species collide

2007-09-05T16:36:00.000-06:00

So how are the kittens and Kermit dealing with each other? See for yourself ... (Kermit can be hard to see in some of the pictures, but rest assured that he's always there -- look toward the edge of the frame, usually)

OK, the last two Kermit's elsewhere. Stop trying to find him.

Who needs an alarm system?

2007-09-01T18:20:00.001-06:00

Word of warning to those who would visit unexpectedly: they're Watching For You. They haven't decided yet whether they'll make you answer three riddles first (Miri's in favor, Molly thinks "riddle" is a funny word).

And AGAIN with the pictures!

2007-08-31T14:38:00.001-06:00

Ha! I remembered!

2007-08-30T13:01:00.000-06:00

Long time, no pics

2007-08-29T09:24:00.000-06:00

As much as I love to see pictures from all my friends, I should be more diligent in posting my own ... but that would require pulling files off a data chip into Photoshop (Mac users please abstain from commenting), cropping/adjusting levels, fixing the image size so people can see the entire picture on the screen, and then posting.

In short, it requires Effort. Which, for those of you who know me, can always be done Later.

So here I'm going to post as many pictures as Blogger will let me, and hopefully more tomorrow, etc. until I'm caught up. Or I forget a day. Which will probably happen tomorrow.

This just in

2007-08-25T05:19:00.001-06:00

There've been so many kitten stories I usually forget to post, but this just happened and I've got the two minutes ...

I needed to unload the dishwasher this morning, which always poses a problem (see also previous post re: Merlin and Major Kitchen Appliances). Merlin must be in the dishwasher while I'm unloading it, and it makes the annoying task take that much longer, fishing a kitten out every two seconds.

Then I had a flash of brilliance.

I turned on the kitchen faucet until there was one skinny continuous stream of water. Soon enough, there were three kittens in the kitchen sink trying to catch the water. Success!

Then I saw what Merlin was doing. He was sticking his head in the stream of water to catch it right before it got away down the drain. Well, this would divert the stream of water and make it go somewhere else, which he then had to turn and chase, which would make the water run off his head in a different direction, etc.

He still hasn't noticed that he's soaking wet.

Trump This

2007-08-20T15:59:00.000-06:00

Michael has said (paraphrasing here) that I'm by no means stupid; I am simply a smart person who "occasionally does daft things."

I'm on my feet for at least 7 1/2 hours every day. This results in a lot of wear and tear on my shoes, and I usually need a new pair every 3 months (I usually get a new pair every 6 months, because I hate buying sneakers. It's boring.).

I know I need to get new shoes when I have trouble falling asleep at night because my back and hips hurt so much. OK, it's not a very healthy way to go through life, but a new pair of sturdy shoes and my back is fine again.

So yesterday my back was killing me by the end of my shift and I went directly to Famous Footwear to get some new shoes. I have simple requirements: they must be sneakers (or "trainers" for those who got the British Harry Potter) with decent arch support, they must not be white (white shoes are ugly any time of the year), size 7 1/2, and As Cheap As Possible.

These qualifications usually narrows down my selection considerably.

I picked a pair, put them on, they fit OK. The right one was a little tight around the toes, but my feet were probably swollen from the crappy old shoes. Whatever. I paid and wore the shoes out the door.

This morning I put my new shoes on. Yay! New shoes!

By the time I got to work, I knew Something Was Wrong. Checked the labels in the shoes. Yep: Left Shoe is Size 7 1/2. Right Shoe is 6 1/2.

So at the end of my shift today I had to go and exchange one shoe. Thank God they let me! The manager there rang me up yesterday, too, and remembered following up to make sure the shoes fit OK. I had said they were fine.

Today I asked her if this happens often, and she said, "Yes -- but it's always kids."

Kitten Antics

2007-08-20T15:44:00.000-06:00

Miri's favorite toy: rabbit's foot. It usually finds its way to our vestibule, where she likes to put it in my shoe and fish it back out. This morning, I found it in the laundry basket with a load of clean clothes. Hm.
Molly's favorite toy: alternately our hair and plastic drinking straws. When I make smoothies, I must maintain constant vigilance! lest she run off with one of our straws, leaving a trail of fruit sludge in her wake.
Merlin's favorite toy: closets and major kitchen appliances. This guy thinks big. If a closet door is open, he must Get To The Top -- which he does in about 3 seconds flat. If we let him, he'd stay in there for hours, just taunting his sisters from The Top Of The World. He can sometimes cajole Molly into joining him. Much to our delight. As for the appliances, well, let's just say it's my newest excuse not to bake. Like I needed one.

Molly continues to ride on our shoulders, sometimes climbing up there from the floor. Michael has learned to wear multiple layers; I have not.
Merlin likes to walk with me right between my feet. He'll match my pace, and if I stop he'll flop on my feet and Be Cute. Needless to say, he's been accidentally sideswept across the room many a time. It doesn't stop him.
Merlin and Miri both know their names (also the "Merlin/Miri no!" command). I suspect that Molly has an inkling of her name and chooses to ignore it, because she doesn't want to stop misbehaving. If we do get her to stop by telling her no, she goes and takes out her frustration on poor Mr. Bill, our stuffed tyrannosaurus, whose days are numbered.
Even though she looks pure black (save a white cravat and panty line), Miri is actually striped and spotted, black on very, very dark brown. You can only see it in bright, direct sunlight, but it's there. I'll try to get a picture up, but no promises.

Kermit eggs them all on every night, darting in and out of hidey places to drive them nuts. Yes, it's deliberate.

8 Obscure Things About Me

2007-08-13T10:26:00.000-06:00

Thanks to Jordana, who tagged me.

1. My legal birth name was supposed to be Alysia-Marie Arlene Williams. I just arrived a month early, before my mom thought to tell my dad her final choice, so he had to wing it on the birth certificate. Thanks, dad! That was a close one.

2. I have the word "Hi" written in the veins of my inside left wrist.

3. I have a "thing" about the inside of my knees -- particularly the tendons. I must protect them. I won't let anybody near them. Just the thought of someone touching the inside of my knee creeps me out.

4. Scatological humor will always make me laugh. Embarrassing but true.

5. My first choice of instrument in the 4th grade was percussion, which my mom told me I could play Over Her Dead Body. So I picked the French Horn. I wasn't able to take any lessons in percussion until senior year of college when I finally had time to take Percussion Techniques. My suspicions were confirmed: Percussion Rocks, and I Would've Been Good At It. So moms, let your kids play what they want to play. My horn, it is located Somewhere In The Basement.

6. My favorite comfort food is graham crackers smushed up in milk.

7. My first dance recital was to the tune "Yes, Sir, That's My Baby." I was 5. I still have the costume.

8. I have better-than-average hearing in the high frequencies; I hate the sound our TV makes when it's on and not playing anything. I have much worse-than-average hearing in the low frequencies; it can be difficult for me to, say, understand male customers if there is a register in use right behind me. This is the only sane reason I can come up with for why I dislike talking on the telephone so much. (FYI, I much prefer email.)

Now for the new tagees: I tag Kyle, Susan and Andrea W, who (should she see this entry) will have to post in the MatheBlog. Ha ha!

More juicy literary stuff

2007-08-07T09:14:00.001-06:00

-- Will blog more later, but I just saw this and couldn't resist putting it up -- read classics in installments! (Does anyone else hate the "in installments" bit? I hate saying that, but can't come up with anything better in the 15 seconds I've dedicated to thinking about it.)

This might hold me until I realize my dream of an eBook reader I can afford (not to mention some kind of standardized format of eBook!).

Over and out

2007-07-27T19:57:00.001-06:00

Won't be able to post much this next week (OK, at all) ... am going to the Wilds of Minnesota for a week. If someone needs to reach me:
1) Check out the link, I'm sure there's a contact number on there. Use that -- no cell phone reception anywhere in the area.
2) The contact number will be for the main lodge, which is across the county highway and down a hill from where I'll be.
3) The lodge owners will answer. Tell them it's a message for "One a' them Williamses." They'll take the message.
4) If we're lucky, my dad (or Uncle Bob, or Aunt Lynn, or cousins Mackenzie or Andrew ... you get the idea) will get the message when they stop by for coffee or doughnuts.
5) If we're really lucky, someone will remember to tell me later.

They Don't Sleep Much

2007-07-20T12:02:00.001-06:00

The kittens are now Officially Our Problem! In other words, we've adopted them. God help us all.

As they are now

2007-07-16T13:37:00.000-06:00

Location of kittens at present:

Molly on the computer desk, just finished checking out Michael's inbox, is making her way to the keyboard, playing with a pencil en route.

Merlin and Miri are playing; Merlin is on my lap, Miri is attacking from below and occasionally snagging my knee. Now Merlin's looking up and biting my wrist.

So Computer Time is a group activity. Merlin wants to hit the space bar, and Molly keeps batting a pencil down on my hands for me to put back up on the desk for her. Aaugh.

We tried a cat dancer last night, to unusual results. Merlin caught it right away, then started trotting off kitchenward with the bird. When the string fishlined him, he started tugging at it. Well, I tugged back and started dragging him back toward me. He dug in his little claws and growled (yes, cats can growl. You just don't hear it often.). When I got him all the way to me, I kept pulling until Merlin was dangling two feet above the ground, hanging BY HIS TEETH. He finally slipped down one of the feathers and dropped to the ground.

He did this little routine two more times. Can't say he doesn't know the Rules of Hunting (if you catch it, it's YOURS. AND NO ONE ELSE'S.)

Molly likes to get herself stuck in the bathtub.

At present, it looks like Miri will be the Alphakitty -- her siblings tend to follow her lead, and Molly's actually been known to stand by and wait for Miri to finish eating before going to the food dish.

More kitty pics

2007-07-05T19:57:00.000-06:00

Well, while I can't possibly compete with Jordlet's news, here (by husband's request) are some more kitten pictures. Closeups of Miri, Molly and Merlin (in that order).

P.S. We didn't intend to go with all-M names. Those faithful readers will know that we started with Rosie, Molly, Cricket and Mirabel. Well, Rosie turned to Merlin and Cricket died. We didn't realize the 3-M thing until all the kits were already responding to their names. Oh, well.

Molly says hi

2007-06-30T14:33:00.000-06:00

Some bad news, some good news

2007-06-26T12:46:00.000-06:00

First of all, I should probably report that Cricket has died. I don't like to talk about it much, because he was such a sweet kitten and it's hard to let him go, even though it's already been two weeks since he died.

This is one of the facts of life for kitten foster parents, it turns out. A huge percentage of kittens who are removed from Mom before 5 weeks of age will die, and the litter I've got came here at probably 3 weeks or so: the fact that 75% are alive and hopping (well, sleeping right now) is quite the feat. The short explanation is that Cricket "failed to thrive." The long explanation is that one day he was gamely trying to keep up with the sibs, the next morning he was sprawled out on the kittens' bed with his head stretched back, trying desperately to breathe. I brought him back to the shelter vet and they had to put him down (I have absolutely no qualms about this, BTW -- he was very obviously in pain as well).

So while I'm sad and grieving, I know enough about raising kittens to know that there wasn't anything I could've done (one of the shelter staff had an almost identical experience just a few days before). If anything, I'm incredibly angry and frustrated at the people who just dumped this lot of kittens on a sidewalk in West Chicago when they were far too young to be away from their momma. I don't understand that kind of person (and yes, there was evidence that the kittens were dumped by a human, not just born on the sidewalk and left).

*Abrupt topic change to cover an otherwise awkward silence*
The other kittens, however, are doing admirably.
Molly's by far the biggest and silliest: she has a tendency to fall asleep upside-down, usually on a pillow or other elevated place, and tumble down halfway through her nap, whereupon she will crack her eyes open, shake her head and fall asleep where she landed.
Merlin is a sweetie and the most likely to seek me out ... and claw his way up to my shoulder to give my ear a good snuffle. He's the smallest now and has yet to win any of the battles royale staged daily in our living room, but that doesn't stop him for a second.
Miri is Little Miss Independent. She's the most likely to dart off somewhere by herself (which gives Molly no choice but to seek Miri out and bite her tail), but just when you're certain all of them are settled down for a nap she'll come up for scritches. She's definitely the smart one -- no competing for Mom's attention for her.

Daffodil is ... becoming resigned to her new life, I'd say. She's got quite the crush going on Michael (her favorite spot to sleep is right on his chest, facing his head while purring away and every so often talking to him). Her days are mostly spent under our bed (which is an Ikea and therefore very low to the ground, so it's pretty funny to see her flatten herself to get under there). She's finally stopped hissing and growling at the kittens and instead just stares with indignation when they approach (Merlin especially just wants to Sit And Worship -- he thinks she's the Cat's Pajamas). Fortunately for us, she's never been the violent type so we're not worried about leaving her alone with them. At this point, I'm more concerned with making sure the kittens give their elder some space!

More about Kermit and the Kittens at a later blog ... this one's getting a bit long for my taste.

We have Features!

2007-06-18T14:22:00.001-06:00

... or at least a new gimmick!

Introducing Meesh's Grouse of the Week! This is my attempt to limit the amount of negativity I share with the world by venting in a structured manner.

This week's Grouse:

People who do not understand the concept of "seasonal" food. One does not ask a Michigan farmer for fresh raspberries in May, nor should one expect locally-grown apples in June. It just doesn't happen. The apples are from Chile, people. Are we seriously so separated from our agrarian past that we freak out when strawberries cost twice as much in December as they do in July? This is something I hit my head against every day at work. No, we're out of cherry preserves. Why? Because we've already gone through last year's crop. We're waiting for this year's crop now. Sometimes things aren't available RIGHT NOW.

Wah

2007-06-06T07:58:00.000-06:00

It was a bad idea, a few months ago, to check out my Amazon Wishlist for "purchased" items (seriously, it was to make sure I didn't use a gift card to buy something someone had already gotten for me! Makes sense, is responsible, no?).

Because I had one surprise: one gift that has been purchased, but I have never received.

This has been the case for months, and I really, really want that book! (I'm a food geek, I admit it -- Michael was faintly weirded out that my chosen bedtime reading one night was to investigate the differences between baking soda and baking powder. But that stuff's interesting, people!)

So I know, this is my own fault for snooping (snooping with a responsible intent!), but aaarrrrrgggghhh!

Kyle, if this is your fault, you are so totally getting a noogie when I see you in August.

Not Miri's best side

2007-06-04T19:34:00.000-06:00

A picture for Michael, away on his video shoot: this is your kitten.

This post is rated TMI

2007-06-01T19:49:00.000-06:00

Now that warm weather is here, I have a few fashion complaints.

To wit: I have repeatedly seen grown men waltzing around in shirts that are neither pink nor purple, not even a magenta, fuschia or puce: no, these are a color I believe is called "orchid."

Men, do not wear this color. No one can "rock" this color. It is reminiscent of bridesmaids' dresses.

But to get to the real complaint:

This season's women's clothes feature a cut that is essentially v-neck, with a seam right beneath the breasts. There are variations: sometimes there is shirring, or little pintucks, or it's a surplice top, but those are merely details.

Don't get me wrong -- this is a very flattering cut for just about every figure out there. It looks a little strange on little girls, inasmuch as there are no breasts for the seam to sit under, but hey -- it looks optimistic, and optimism is cute.

No, my problem is with the idiots who make the clothes. More specifically, the person who takes a sample size (usually sizes 2 or 4, increasingly sizes 0 and 2, God help us) and sizes it up to a normal size.

Message to those persons: you cannot just add a few inches all the way around the top and call it a day! No, larger girls are built differently.

WARNING TO ALL UNMARRIED MEN: THIS IS WHERE WE GET TO THE TOO MUCH INFORMATION PART. GO READ HOMESTARRUNNER OR SOMETHING, BECAUSE THE REST OF THIS POST COULD MAKE YOU GO BLIND.

Married men have probably heard it already, or near enough as makes no difference.

As a woman's ... aw, hell ... boobs get bigger, the girls, they hang lower. Thus, making the shirt two (or however many) inches wider doesn't help. You end up with this.
OK. Maybe not the thong-flashing part, but you get the seam-right-across-the-nipples bit, which is just so classy this year.

I know I'm not alone in this problem, because seriously over half the women I saw today who were wearing this kind of top (and it's a lot of women out there -- like I said, it's very popular) had that same problem. I wanted to go running around the store, yanking on shirt hems.

In a way, I'm relieved to have seen all that today. I was starting to think that maybe I was deformed, and my boobs hung three inches too low and everybody secretly knew that I was hideous but no one wanted to say anything and maybe that's why everyone gets quiet just when I walk into a room ... no?

In the meantime, designers need to actually try these clothes on size models for every size they make, to double-check that it's a realistic fit. Because seriously, a size 12 does not have tits anywhere near her shoulders.

A Solid Start

2007-05-31T14:02:00.000-06:00

Now that the Stinkies are 5 weeks old(ish), it's time to wean them. Last night, I spent an hour (absolutely no exaggeration) making a gruel of formula and wet food, then shooting it into the kitten's mouths with a (needleless) syringe. Why did it take so long? The syringe the shelter gave me was 1cc. Kittens are supposed to have about a tablespoon to a tablespoon-and-a-half of food per feeding. A tablespoon is 15ccs.

Well, enough of that. Time to get them used to feeding themselves. So this afternoon I made the gruel, poured it into two shallow dishes, lined their playpen with puppy training pads (I hate the disposable nature of them, but it's leakproof; imagine laying down a layer of maxi pad. Our landlord just put down this flooring and she's paranoid -- justifiably so -- of getting animal smell into the flooring.) and let 'em have at it. Here are the results:

Rumor has it that some of the food actually made it inside the kittens.

Mew

2007-05-29T17:19:00.000-06:00

No posts recently, but for a Good Reason.

I have kittens.

Four foster kittens from the DuPage County Animal Shelter, to be exact. Four-and-a-half weeks old, God help us. Here is the cast of characters:

Molly, who is doing precicely what she isn't supposed to be doing, i.e. Climbing Out of the Prison (or kitten-safe play area, for you non-kittens out there).

Merlin, in a very uncharacteristic shot In Which He Is Quiet. He has no Indoor Voice to speak of.

A 2-shot of Mirabel and Cricket, can't tell from this angle which is which. The dark ones are harder to get good pics of -- everything I had looked like a dark, fuzzy blob. Anyhoo, Miri is a little girl and Cricket is a boy.

And a 3-shot (again, can't tell who the dark one is, although it's a fair wager that it's Miri -- Cricket is far too shy).

As for personalities ... Molly's a bit hard to pin down right now. At first she was Molly the Aggressor, who Bit Noses For No Reason. Then my rehabber friend Liz came by and showed me how to bottle feed them better, and Molly calmed down once we taught her how to actually use a bottle. Now she's mostly Molly the Willful.

Merlin, as I mentioned before, is very Loud. He is an Orphan, and Nobody Loves Him, and Nobody Feeds Him, Ever. -- If you listen to him, that is. He says the same things right after supper, when he's cuddling with us.

Miri is, dare I say, the smartest. She was the first to figure out the litterbox (still a dodgy subject, but at least she's got the gist of it), the first to start bathing herself and the first (egads) to figure out how to Get Out Of Prison (climb to the top and fling youself over). She also has Michael wrapped around her little paw. Her favorite activity is to Go 'Splorin.

Cricket is a quiet cuddlemuffin. Of course, part of that is because he's a little sick. Nothing much, I don't think, mostly gunky eyes. He's learning to stick up for himself a little bit, I hope, because otherwise with 3 sisters he doesn't stand a chance.

Merlin and Miri will be staying with us, which we figured out within about 10 minutes. Cricket has possibly found a home with one of my coworkers, but no permanent home for Molly yet. But I've got hope -- I've only had them since Thursday.

In related news, my dad and stepmom are coming down to visit in two weekends, and they are bringing down my other cat, Daffodil the Strange. I got her in the eighth grade (my cats live long, good lives). She's been driving my dad batty with her incessant crying since Scratchy died, and I could use her excellent bathing skills on these little Stinkies. All in all, I think it's a good arrangement.

But right now, I'm tired.

** Editing note: some of you may have noticed that one kitten's name has changed from "Rosie" to "Merlin." Ahem. Oops. Hey -- those parts are tiny on new kittens, how was I to know???

Guilt Post

2007-05-18T15:33:00.000-06:00

Mostly I'm posting because I'm feeling guilty about not posting ... that's just sick, I know. But I do have a couple vignettes to post, anyway, so here's a collection:

D&D quote:
"No, you cannot have a pet zombie ogre!" (Someone was letting the recent acquisition of a "Command Undead" spell get to his head. I was grossed out. I mean, here I am turning these ... things ... and he wants them to follow us?!?)

Last week I was working in the candy section when I heard the following, between a toddler boy and his (what I later found out) aunt:
"No Mary!"
"You don't want Aunt Mary to push you?"
"No!"
"Well, then, we're not going to go anywhere!"
"Go!"
"But then I have to push you."
"No! No Mary!"
"Well, if you want to go, but you don't want Aunt Mary to push you ... who do you want to push you?"
"Dat girl!"
At this point I looked up, and to my surprise, he was pointing at me! I told him he couldn't afford my hourly rate.

Today, while ringing up a customer, I peeked into his cart to see how many bottles of wine there were. With thickly (Easter European?) accented English, he said, "Ah, you see all my wine! That is because I am a very vicious man! I like the numbing affects!" He said all this with a big (cognizant) smile.

Yesterday, I was asked to find some candy to fill a couple shelves in the flower section (don't ask). I was standing by my backstock, trying to find out what would "go" well. I called to one of the artists (working about 10 ft. away from me), "What's summery?"
"Beach balls!"
"No, I meant candy!"
"Candied beach balls!"

A few minutes later, I realized my seasonal mistake:
"Actually, I meant to say spring. What's springy?"
"Flowers!"
"Ray!" (Artist's name, in case you didn't catch that.)
"Candied flowers!"

Along a similar vein of silliness, we've got these new reusable bags that are round. Well, the bottom is round (this isn't the silly part). I tried to convince a customer that a round-bottomed bag was essential for trips to the beach: you stack in your frisbee, your pie and a beach ball and you're good to go. 'Cause, hey, frisbees were originally pie tins, and frisbees are essential for the beach, therefore pies are vital beach fare, no?

Hm.

2007-04-25T09:21:00.000-06:00

At this point, do I need to discuss my philosophy with regards to D&D? I don't know -- I know it's a touchy subject for some. (Actually, I thought my dad was going to be horrified. After all, when I brought home some U2 albums one Christmas break, his comment was, "Going through a rebelious phase are we?" This time, his only comment was, "Oh, and ...?" Huh. You never know.)

So let's see if I can do the short version ...
... while at Wheaton, I knew of a group that did play D&D. They had set up a few parameters (don't kill me, math people!): you can't play an evil* character being the big rule.
Then, while dating Michael, I started playing a lot of games: board, card, video and computer games. My favorites have always been the ones that run on a roleplaying mechanic. It's like we're making up a story as a group, each player acting out a character. I love fantasy stories and a formal roleplaying game gives earstwhile grownups a chance to be imaginative and really play.
So after college I was interested in playing more games of the sort I like, and kept running into all these references to D&D. It is, at its core, a fantasy roleplaying game. I was worried about the whole magic/witchcraft thing -- I mean, who raised in an Evangelical home hasn't heard about how D&D will "open" you to all sorts of things? So Michael did a bunch of research. 'Cause that's what we do in our family. Lots of research. We're researching fools.

If anyone actually wants the links, I can get them, but I'll just sum up for now. Back when D&D first started, there was no negative image. It was just this game, you know? Then a couple of kids (seriously, like 2) committed suicide -- their cases weren't related, it was two separate suicides over a period of a couple of years. Questions were asked, like they always are, and the only thing anyone knew about these kids was that they played D&D. One of the moms started this huge campaign against D&D with this "List of 100" -- a list of people who have died as a result of D&D, basically. Well, the list has never broken the double digits.
What I found more telling is that the only thing anyone knew about these kids was the D&D. They had no real friends, other than the D&D groups.

Well, what goes on in a D&D group? You sit around with paper and pencils, the Dungeon Master leads you through an adventure. ("You're at the foot of a mountain. What do you do?" "I'll start up the mountain." "Straight up?" "No, I'll start spiraling up the mountain, going clockwise." [DM consults the map] "After half an hour, you come upon a river." etc.) There are skills checks to Listening, Use Rope, Swimming, and the like. Yes, there's magic. Depending upon what kind of magician you are (arcane or divine, and their subtypes), you pick a spell you want to cast from a list. That "spell" has its own rules, and the success or failure and the damage of that spell is determined by a die roll.

D&D is, at its core, a fantasy roleplaying game. A group adventure storytelling game. You don't even need the spellcasters (but they're fun because they're so unpredictable). The mechanic is a whole lotta rules and die roles and statistics. It's incredibly complicated, which is probably why more people don't play it -- there's a huge learning curve. But the stories are no more evil than the story in the Lord of the Rings. In fact, I'm sure someone out there has even come up with the stats for the whole Fellowship (people are geeky that way).

So to say someone committed suicide as a result of playing a game is, well, really trivializing whatever that person was actually going through. It's similar to saying that the boys at Columbine slaughtered their classmates because they wore black trenchcoats, or were slightly "goth." Um, no. That's ridiculous and insulting.

I hope that clears up any fears that I'm dabbling in the occult. I mean, really. We only sacrifice chickens on a leap year. Everyone knows that.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go look up ways to rain down holy punishment on a couple zombie ogres. My mace didn't do anything (I suspect Bludgeoning damage does nothing on the undead), so I've got to find a Slashing-type weapon and quick.

*A character is set up axes, if you will (since I'm already bugging the math people, I might as well continue): there's the Lawful-Neutral-Chaotic axis, then there's the Good-Neutral-Evil axis. OK, so they're not actually axes, but my brain's not working to come up with anything better and I'm feeling lazy. A character's place along these two "axes" (Lawful Good, Chaotic Neutral, Chaotic Good, etc.) is his/her "alignment." So seriously, no one could be "Evil."

More quotes

2007-04-25T09:14:00.001-06:00

"I'm gonna go ahead and trog* up."
- "Sounds like you have a trog problem."

"It sounds like someone is wringing me out like a wet towel, and you want to come over here?!?"

"Dude, I chopped off that thing's arm and it handed me my ass."

Yeah, we battled zombies. No one's died yet, fortunately. And I got my first chance to turn undead**! Yeah!

*"Trog" = troglodyte. Our wizard can turn himself into a troglodyte, much to our amusement. Doing so gives him some much-needed natural armor, because otherwise he is a complete wuss.
* "Turn Undead": an ability of clerics to make undead creatures turn tail and run. Sometimes even destroy them. It's cool. I rock.

List of Squirrelisms

2007-04-20T08:16:00.000-06:00

Strange Things Kermit Does:

Yesterday I rigged up a cotton rope across his cage, just to see what he'd do with it. He took it down and stuffed it in his nesting box. Actually, only one end is in there -- the other end is still kinda-sorta rigged up, so he's got a zip line.
Every morning, there is some fluff in his food dish. I take it out, refill the food dish, the next morning there is a new bit of fluff in there. Same with the water dish.
Usually the only way to get Kerm back in his cage is to give him an almond (he's got to do something with it). He usually takes it running in his wheel with him. This thing is half the size of his head. Sometimes, just to switch things up, he'll bury the almond in some newspaper, go running, then fetch the almond for another bout of running. So this is a deliberate thing, not an "I forgot to stash my almond" thing.
He has stopped leaving snap pea skins around. They instead go in his Shrine. It's that blue thing I've got a picture of him in earlier. In it go all his whole nuts that he doesn't want to eat yet and all food detritus. I'd been thinking that he'd been emptying his food dish every night, then I looked in the Shrine. It's packed. At least he's tidy.

Unusual sightings at Cosley Zoo

2007-04-12T09:32:00.000-06:00

... OK, this little guy was actually in an exhibit at the Zoo, so to see him there might not have been such an unusual thing. But, then again, I took these pics at 2 pm, which is a little odd for a nocturnal guy like this. Kermit, for instance, never met a 2 pm he liked.

But for your viewing pleasure ...

More nerdy fun

2007-04-12T08:12:00.000-06:00

Your books can travel the world! (No, you can't get the Frequent Flyer miles.)

Right back at ya, buddy

2007-04-08T18:02:00.000-06:00

Exchange between two of our older crewmembers this morning (before the store opened):

"JIM! Happy Easter, you big bunny!"

"Bite me."

Happy Paraprofessional Appreciation Day!

2007-04-04T15:23:00.000-06:00

Oh, and --

Happy Birthday, Kyle!

"I'm sorry, we just suck right now."

2007-03-27T14:56:00.000-06:00

-- My favorite response to customers' repeated frustration over all of our out-of-stock items. Not that I would say that ... don't have the seniority to quite get away with something that potentially snarky.

Work right now is hair-tearingly frustrating; due to, I don't know, planets aligning, Peter finally making his debut as the Antichrist, global warming, a ton of our stuff is out of stock. Not just sold out, but it's just not at the warehouse right now. And we don't know when a lot of it's coming back. The next time someone responds to this explanation with, "But it's so good!" I want to slap them into next week. The one doesn't really have anything to do with the other. Yes, we're out of something because we sold it, because people buy the things they like, but we're not this out of stock just from selling lots of stuff. No, this is apocalyptic-level out of stock.

This is where living in my neighborhood really gets to me. The people here are so incredibly used to getting everything they want right now that a simple wait of two weeks for, say, trail mix, is just out of the question. GAH!

It's nice to come home to a pet. All Kermit asks is that my hands smell interesting. And "interesting" can be as little as "I touched cardboard today." Easy.

Medieval Helpdesk

2007-03-25T10:29:00.000-06:00

Please check this out. It will make you laugh.

Lost

2007-03-21T14:00:00.000-06:00

I also forgot to report that we survived losing Kermit (in the old apartment).

He was perched on my shoulder one minute, watching me get his supper ready. The next minute, he wasn't. I completely lost it, hyperventilating, moving large appliances to check under them. (I thought he jumped to the fridge, fell behind it, then hid under our dishwasher, from whence we would never be able to retrieve him.)

Michael sent me to go get ready for bed, seeing as I was useless. After my shower, I went to our walk-in closet to get my pjs. Something skittered out from under the laundry hamper, and we found Kermit.

So somehow, he managed to go from the kitchen, down the hall, through our bedroom and into the closet (where he had never been before). He had to have run along the floor, as there is nothing to cling to along the way. He also had to have done all this in the about 30 seconds it took me to realize that he was no longer on my person.

He was also quite happy to be in the "clothes-forest," as he called it. It took a lot of convincing to get him to come back to Mommy (had to put on my bathrobe. He likes terrycloth.). --Especially when he found out he could fly from one side of the closet to the other. Oy.

Wardrobe Malfunction

2007-03-21T13:56:00.000-06:00

OK, so we're "person-to-person" training Kermit. So far, the training is working pretty well: i.e. he's learned that he isn't physically capable of sticking to most furniture he's hurled himself at, while humans are pretty universally easy to cling to.

Until ...

... the brother-in-law showed up in a windbreaker. Whoops!

Busy month

2007-03-19T15:45:00.000-06:00

... So I think I'm just about ready to rejoin the human race.

1) We moved ... end of last month, not quite done unpacking yet (waiting on the Tile Guy to do some last finishing touches so I can load up our shelving unit)
2) Threw a surprise birthday party for Husband (who will be 30 on Wednesday)
... is that it? Wow. Felt like more.

Also

2007-02-21T08:15:00.000-06:00

Kermit discovered a new use for the magnetic poetry on our fridge.

Imagine, for a moment, that you are the size of a Teddy Bear Hamster. You're looking up at the fridge door, which is littered with magnets*.

Does it look like a climbing wall to you?

*"secretly
relaxing
soft and heavy
dead
wasp
in
my
mouth

I ask why
they never stoned
my butt"
by Wes Whitson

H'm

2007-02-21T08:12:00.000-06:00

Kyle, the nice man doesn't seem to like the holiday you invented.

Shout-out to Kyle (et al)

2007-02-14T16:57:00.000-06:00

Happy Singles' Awareness Day!

Common Problem

2007-02-08T14:48:00.000-06:00

Something happens during the day, and I think, "Ooh! Gotta blog about that!"

Then I sit down to follow through, and promptly forget what it was I was so excited about.

But perhaps if I keep typing, I'll remember ...

Ah! Kermit did another Trash Can Leap on Monday.

And he found out that he can Climb Chairs. Or shimmy up them. Same thing, really. He was happy. I was nervous -- he moves fast, and the last thing I need is for him to get himself stuck somewhere inaccessible.

Backstory: my cat, Daffodil, when she was a kitten managed to climb the inside back wall of my vanity and get herself stuck in a junk drawer. She could've been there for hours, judging by how long she was missing before I found her. Kyle once lost a hamster in his room, didn't find him for days. (Or, should I say, the hamster found him. In the middle of the night. By climbing the sheets and biting him. Oh, Mariah Carey has nothing on the vocal range of a freaked-out 6-year-old boy!)

Porn for Book-Lovers

2007-02-01T12:36:00.000-06:00

This is such a cool use of the internet, I don't even know where to start. Just check it out. No pun intended.

Now, you understand, this was in character ...

2007-01-31T08:54:00.000-06:00

"Your [current] inability to hit anything is the gods' gift to us."

-- To a fellow-adventurer who recently caught a third adventurer at the edge of his Burning Hands spell. And nearly killed him. And later wanted to fire into battle ... again.

Gah

2007-01-31T08:43:00.000-06:00

My world has gone crazy.

I thought everyone went nuts when the White Sox won the World Series two years ago ... that was nothing.

-- Well, this from a girl who still owns her two Homer Hankies (1987, 1991). And danced in a parade to the Homer Hanky Song.

Learning Limits

2007-01-24T11:11:00.000-06:00

Kermit is learning the extent of his Squirrel Superpowers. To wit: he has found out that he Can't Jump Onto Walls.

After D&D Monday night, he was scampering around on my person as I prepared his supper and said goodbye to folks. There was a lot going on, lots to sniff, and the little guy got a bit overexcited. He saw a patch of wall and made a full-body flying leap (literally), which turned into a full-body belly flop against the wall. Slide down the wall about 5 feet, to land underneath our bookshelf. We eventually coaxed him out with an almond.

I'm getting the impression that the only way to person-to-person train this guy is to let him try out all the furniture and find out for himself why it's not Good for Squirrels. Sooner or later he will have thrown himself against most everything else and find that humans are simply preferable: he can stick to them.

D&D Quotables, Part III?

2007-01-18T12:16:00.000-06:00

"[Horses are] way below NPCs on the list of things to kill."*

"A fairly average display of hut-smacking."

"With a warcry of 'BEANS!,' I charge forward."

"I am [fingers held 1cm apart] this much cocky."

"I'm gonna create some water when we get back, and I'm gonna dunk you in it."

"I'm going to search the women. You never know what you'll find."

*NPC: Non-Player Character [AKA "cannon fodder"]

Further Developments

2007-01-14T15:43:00.000-06:00

Last night, Kermit figured out that he can jump from me to Michael and back again. He thought it was Very Fun.

I've created a fuzzy monster

2007-01-11T12:45:00.000-06:00

So FuzzButt woke me up at 4:30 this morning (my day off, no less) with his Alarm Call. (An emphatic squeak! repeated at about 60 bpm.) I went out to check on him -- it usually means he knocked something over and wants us to Fix It. Can't find anything. Turn on the light. Still can't find anything. Open the cage door to make sure the wheel can still turn (usually the problem -- he has a tendency to wedge things against it). While checking various pieces of furniture, he clambers onto my pajamas and sniffs at my ear.

Oh.

So I obligingly step back to he can jump to his cage. As I'm herding him into the cage (if this isn't done quickly, he's on his way to Higher Things), he zips back up my arm. One more jump, then close the cage and back to bed (for me).

Five minutes later, he woke me again. Same story, only this time he worked his way all the way down to the hem of my very-oversized pajama shirt, only to find there's a lot of swing there. Whee! Had to help him up a bit.

I'm just glad he didn't pee on me.

Get Yer Parachutes Ready

2007-01-10T20:04:00.000-06:00

The FuzzBug has learned a New Thing. He's figured out that he allowed Out Of The Cage, as long as he's On People (or at least Mom -- not so sure about Dad yet). It's a new game: climb on my hand, scamper up my arm and look around from the vantage point of my shoulder for a bit, then JUMP to the cage, squeaksqueak of triumph, turn around and do it again. He's Very Proud of himself.

Kermit is also Very Interested in watching us. Whenever Michael or I walk by (when he's awake, which admittedly isn't often), he rushes to the spot nearest us. When we approach (and who wouldn't, with that audience?), he skitters along the cage all around where our head is, sticking his nose out as far as it'll go. It's a trip.

The Word is Out

2007-01-08T10:27:00.000-06:00

Apparently, we are the Suckers of the Animal World. Two tree squirrels (I've named them Jasper and Emily) have decided that we are Nice People Who Should Feed Them. They're definitely male and female, I'm gonna guess they're mates (not that I've seen evidence, thank goodness). They just showed up on our balcony one day, and Jasper came right up to our door to ask for food. Naturally, I obliged. Emily is very much the shyer of the two and I don't have any pics of her yet, but here's several of Jasper.
He likes hanging out on Michael's bike. He's also tried to store grapes on it, to no avail.

But it's also a great place for Thinking Squirrel Thoughts.

Now, this is something I've never seen before. A squirrel just Hanging Out. He's not eating, he's not washing his whiskers, he's not doing anything. Just watching life.

He watched me take pictures, but didn't seem to mind.
Even though he's really close to where we're standing.

ComEd

2006-12-27T17:25:00.000-06:00

I arrived at work yesterday morning to find the store in a state of confusion. It seems that there was a power outage some time Christmas Day (6 p.m., the theory goes) and there's a reason they're called "perishables."

Also, the grease trap apparently has an electrical component of which we were previously unaware, 'cause damn. Wanna smell a grease trap? Stick your nose down a clogged drain and take a deep breath. Then cube that. Yeah.

Soooo, we had to pull all refrigerated product off the shelves, write it off, throw it in ye olde Dumpster and start again. We didn't open until 2 p.m.

I'm tired.

Also, meh.

THUD ..... mmmmrrrppppphhhh

2006-12-21T14:04:00.000-06:00

-- Is the sound of me being buried under a mountain of laundry. That I have to do today. That I don't wanna do. (Did that sound whiny to you? If not, back up and read again until it does.)

Auughhh! I am aware that the Christmas (or Christmahannukwanzakah) season is a joyous one. But from the retail perspective ..... waldskjg;awlrethyg. Totally crazy.

I've seen customers leave long register lines to fetch something for a total stranger.

I've been cussed out by a customer for not selling her liqueur candies before noon on Sunday. (FYI -- Glen Ellyn Villiage ordinance prohibits it. We could lose the liquor license and I'd lose my job. So totally not worth it.)

I saw a woman stop her shopping to make sure a crying little girl found her mommy.

I've had customers try to force me to open a register to which I am not assigned.

Two days ago, a little boy (about 2 1/2 years old) was singing, "Jingle bells, batman smells, Robin laid the [sic] egg .... batmobil mumble a wheel, Joker got away, HEY!" Over. And over. And over. And all the customers in line around him were just cracking up. (Mom was mortified.)

One woman complained the she couldn't get her Napa Creek (or is it Valley? We've had several geological features of Napa in wine form) wine anymore. I tried to explain that it was a one-time deal, we put that on the sign, es no mas. "But my family drank it all the time. You don't understand -- wine is like water to us!" Then she was upset about the potstickers. Well, ma'am, that vendor went out of business. Can't get no potstickers from a factory that don't exist, you see. "But they were so good! I don't know why you guys get rid of everything I like!" Rrgh.

Every morning I knock on the glass with my keys. Someone opens the door for me, I sign in. Check the Daily Log for morning instructions. Trudge across the front (dodging flower pallets), say hi to Alicia (flower child), the Bread Person, Joe (produce guy). Right after seeing Joe, I always notice this one case of onions. It's there every morning by the time I get in. Same place, on the floor right under the conventional cherry tomatoes. It's got a cartoon of a figure with an onion bulb for a head. This "head" has a pink bow on the top (tying up the remains of the stem, I guess) and long eyelashes. The Onion Girl is wearing a knee-length white skirt that "she" is holding up as she curtsies. Right next to this character are the words "Sweetie Sweet." Every day a new box, but always the same place, always from the same vendor.

This is a very disturbing recurring image to have. Little Miss Sweetie Sweet has started showing up in my dreams.

So I'm OK. Have good moments and bad moments at work, I try to remember the good ones more. (The last customer example above I have decided is hilarious. Oh so frustrating at the time, because communication was so not happening, but it's funny now.)

I'll post more later after I dig myself out from under this pile of chores.

See you in February!

Wow! It's not all about the *%^@ squirrel!

2006-12-06T11:11:00.000-06:00

Just another really, really fun (retail) website. I think the magnets have all the images in the collection. HA!

Y'all are gonna get sick of this

2006-12-06T11:05:00.000-06:00

Pic1: Still blurry, 'cause I'm still figuring this out. But it's Kerm in his pouch, trying (in vain, thanks to me) to sleep.
Pic 2: Trying out the broccoli. He ate it all, so I guess he likes it. He left the banana.
Pic 3: Checking out the Christmas tree from all angles. I found out this morning that he dug all around it (I was planning on vacuuming, anyway) and gnawed on the trunk. Hm.

2006-12-05T11:54:00.000-06:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Kermit's Nut. He will not yield it to Any One.

Actually, he's not that posessive yet. But he does tote it around with him (just in case he wants to work on it at odd moments), thus resulting in a very amusing Security Pecan effect.

Kermit has found the One Place Mommy Can't Get To:

I admit, I had to give up on this one. His loss: no breakfast for him! (Or my loss? He was already full on the previous night's Leftover Walnut.) (Which is a good name for a band.)

In other news, he has discovered our Christmas tree. He approves. But it needs more Squirrel. He has also informed me that I'm No Fun At All; He's a Big Squirrel, and Big Squirrels Belong In Trees, Even Fake Ones.

As a compromise, I have gotten him a real tree, in miniature, for his cage. I hope he's happy.

Kermit at rest

2006-12-03T12:21:00.000-06:00

"Whaaaat? It's tooooooooo eaaaaarrrllllyyyy ..."

[The yellow fuzz by his nose is from his hammock. He's started to extract lint and carry it around with him.]

New Quirks

2006-12-02T09:52:00.000-06:00

Kermit now has a favorite toy ... I suppose one could call it a toy, anyway.

It's a cotton rope we hung from the top of his cage. There are a few knots along the way, but it is otherwise unremarkable for a rope. We've never seen him climb it, or even interact with it in any way. But one morning, I noticed he had brought the end of the rope in through the entrance of his nesting box.

Well, that got undone when I cleaned the cage. He has since opted for his hammock over the nesting box. It's a 2-ply hammock, where he can burrow in between the layers. He's brought the rope with him. This time, it involved bringing the end up several levels of cage. The end of the rope eventually worked its way through the hammock, and Kerm had to bring it back in. Unfortunately, he looped it back through the original way in, thus pinching off his hammock. Oops.

I've fixed it this morning (he had retreated to curling up inside a log). I'm sure further hijinks will ensue.

Stuff to drool over

2006-11-21T13:59:00.000-06:00

I'm not going to lie about this: I'm posting these links in part because I hope my brother and other assorted relatives who feel the obligation to buy me unnecessary stuff can see it.

But I'm also posting these because they're cool, funky little ebusinesses/analog businesses that have awesome ideas and I'd love for them to stay in business. In other words, so that y'all can buy stuff for your relatives from these places. Or just look at the stuff and rip off the designs in your own creations ... whatever.

An all-women designer cooperative in Toronto: Fresh Collective
Littlecat Designs -- look at the profiles of the cartoon characters! Lot of sturdy messenger-style bags for the grad student in your life.
Coccoon in downtown Geneva, Illinois
ModCloth Vintage
Pixelgirl Shop -- where else are you going to get sushi earrings?!?
For alternative, reusable giftwrap options, EcoBags

One of the reasons I married him

2006-11-17T20:46:00.000-06:00

My husband has -- should I say developed? Exhibited? -- the habit of, whenever we drive by a Canada Goose, crying "Goose!" at it. This is not a, "Look! A goose!" sort of cry. No, this is a, "You are Goose!" Therefore, every goose gets a "Goose!"

As in, "GooseGooseGooseGooseGooseGoose!" There were six geese.

Now, y'all remember the Wheaton area? Former wetlands? Lots of water retention ponds?

A few weeks ago I was driving us down Roosevelt, turning right onto Main. Hubble Middle School is right on the corner, with a nice big football field. Geese parked as far as the eye can see. My eyes got big. "Oh, no."

"Wait! Stop the car! This is the moment I was BORN for!"

Why Flying Squirrels Are Better Pets Than Hamsters

2006-11-17T13:14:00.000-06:00

Kermit was playing by his water dish when I came in the living room this morning. He played Keep Away from Mommy for a few moments, then backed up and jumped on my arm, scampering all over my back. (He likes to hang on my back and hop sideways -- yes, while I'm standing straight up.) I lured him onto my hand with the bottle (syringe); after 4 1/2 ccs (a big breakfast) he was back to playing all over me. I brought him over to the cage and he jumped onto it as soon as we were in range. He played Keep Away for a few more seconds, then stopped at the edge, bopped his head around (gauging distance) and leapt to my face. As in, forepaws on forehead, aftpaws on nose. Tail in mouth. Then he turned himself around and leapt into his cage.

I think he's getting used to me.

He's here!

2006-11-12T18:47:00.001-06:00

I would like to announce the addition of Kermit, one Southern Flying Squirrel, to the Rivet household. Once I either get a digital camera or figure out how to send the pics on my phone I'll get an actual picture of the guy up here. Suffice it to say that he's incredibly cute. He's about 5 1/2 weeks old and weighs maybe 2 ounces. I'll be bottle-feeding him the next couple weeks (it's a combination of puppy formula and heavy whipping cream, administered through a 3cc syringe), but we also shared a snack of pecan bits this afternoon.

We've got his cage pretty pimped-out, too. Michael had the inspired idea to not only get branches that screw on to the sides of the cage (found in the bird dept. of your local pet store), but to get some snakier pieces of grapevine (from the reptile section -- oy ... pun not intended) and wire them to the sides for extra fun. Kermit also has his choice of log-like items to crawl through, a rope ladder, a hammock (that I knit -- yes, I'm psychotic, what else is new?), a nest box and a wheel.

Strange behaviors thus far: Kermit will fall asleep wherever his activities lead him. Last night, he explored a narrow crevice between the cage wall and his nest box -- and fell asleep wedged in there. Clinging to the side of the cage. He's been known to use the nest box (how he managed to plan that far ahead as to be at the sleeping place when he wanted to sleep is beyond me) and the hammock (eons of cuteness), but he mostly ends up just curling up in his precious wheel. The wheel he can't use for very long at a time, because he ends up running too fast and flipping himself around. He's also convinced that vertical blinds are climbable, and shows signs of developing a definite Thing about Climbing on Top of the Cage. He's not allowed on the furniture (for fear that he'll just keep exploring, and he's just too tiny for that), but he seems to think that because it's His Cage, he can Go Where He Wants -- even On Top. In theory I might see his point, but I know that this is merely a premise to get him to his Everest, a.k.a. the Tall Bookshelf. He's already figured out that he can get a grip on the rough plywood on the back of the shelves and shimmy himself up.

He's been here 48 hours, he's a baby, and he's already rebelling. I'm so proud.

Down, alpha male!

2006-11-06T16:26:00.000-06:00

I'm really digging that my blog is now a hotbed of controversy! Sweet!

Jordana reports that while she'd love to comment, her silly school's firewall prevents doing so while she's supposed to be enriching young minds. Typical. We all know those so-called impressionable young minds are texting each other under cover of desk, and there's no firewall for that now, is there? Unfair treatment, I say!

In the meantime, I've received notice that my squirelly friend is ready to be ripped from mother and siblings and placed in an alien environment wherein there will be none of his kind. YES!!! So this Friday it's Squirrel Time! If I can navigate my way solo to the breader, anyway. (Did I ever mention the time I tried to drive 4 hours to my grandma's house in Iowa -- a straight shot down Highway 30 -- and ended up in Wisconsin?)

Only four more sleeps.

Sorry, Will ... and Jordana ...

2006-11-03T12:34:00.000-06:00

Do I even need to say that I'm incredibly amused? Talk of drunken, golfing ninja, giving Will the ugly stick, eye-gouging -- my life almost can't take this much excitement!

Finished The Little Lady Agency. Thoroughly entertaining, had some interesting points about self-confidence (female self-confidence in particular) and its development within one's family of origin. The denouement was overdone, with almost every character weighing in, comic-book-final-battle style. I suppose I could care, but I don't.

-- Speaking of final chapters, Mary (now that I know you're there!), I read Bonfire of the Vanities after you recommended it (two years later, but still). I liked it well enough up to the epilogue, whereupon I wanted to find my own bonfire for more fascist purposes. For someone who probably has read a few newspapers in his life, Wolfe's "news story" ending was shameful. I saw red on so many levels, I'd better not even start.

I hope we haven't alienated you, Jord, from the discussion with our wanton abuse for old Shake ... I'd actually like your opinion of this particular topic (if you've got the time/inclination). It would be incredibly interesting to get the perspective of someone who genuinely loves Shakespeare's plays and is trying to rope adolescents around to some kind of understanding of classic literature. Does the state set your curriculum especially with re: which plays you teach? What would you like to teach, were you given the freedom/time to prepare? What literature do you think would get the best reception/most attention/reflection from your students?

Confession time: I never actually read the introduction to Chaucer's Canterbury Tales in high school. Our teacher assigned it, even handed out photocopied packets of a (a modern translation of) the thing and gave us two weeks to read it. I gave it 20 minutes during the lunch right before class -- not even with full concentration. I was curled up in an instrument cubby in the band room, keeping my feet away from the furious game of "Snapple cap kick-hockey" taking place right below me. I managed to BS my way through that class period by pretending I was letting the other students get a word in edgewise. Heh.

Two years ago, I took some grad-school classes at Northern Illinois University (as a grad student-at-large -- a way to take classes not for credit, in preparation for maybe applying for grad school). My favorite by far was Chaucer, which we read in the original Middle English. By now I've got my minor in German, though, and I had a blast. (My German accent has suffered a bit as a result ...) My grade, had I been taking the class for credit, was an A. (Yippee!) I felt like I should call up Mrs. Meir at Capital High School with a much belated explanation and apology.

More book assignments

2006-10-31T11:58:00.000-06:00

While I generally agree with Chris' comment (see comments to post below), at least in regards to some of the fluffier fiction, it's not always that easy to designate lit as "easy" and "hard." I find Austen difficult to read (at least on little sleep), but that mostly has to do with the simple mechanics of understanding a vocabulary and syntax that are chronologically foreign to my own. The deeper meanings I generally ferret out on later reflection -- just the way I think.

But then read Jennifer Weiner (another unfortunate name) -- anything will do, I prefer some of her other work to In Her Shoes, but just about every library should have that title on its shelves.

I think every woman should read I Don't Know How She Does It, by Allison Pearson -- and then make their consorts read it as well. There's nothing new to puzzle over, but it encapsulates the biological clock vs. career issue heartbreakingly well.

All I'm getting at is that some (and these could be exceptions) Chick Lit contains uncanny self-awareness and surprising social commentary -- in short, hidden depths.

But for now I'm going to go eat chocolate and read The Little Lady Agency by Hester Browne. For the record, it's just fun. And contains blonde wigs.

Confession

2006-10-25T14:15:00.000-06:00

(Great. Now I've got Weird Al's new "Confessions Pt. 3" running through my head. Excellent.)

I thought I'd try to keep up a side list of the books I've been reading, just for fun. This should be accompanied by a warning: I no longer read much ... um ... "serious" literature. I've found it impossible to read anything requiring concentration during my lunch breaks, because I'm constantly interrupted. At night, I'm usually too tired to try anything harder. Thus, I read a lot of literary candy. My biggest vice: Chick Lit.

There. It's out. I have to admit that the more high-fashion upperclass escapism is in the book, the more I enjoy it. The Devil Wears Prada? Hilarious. I'll one up you and suggest Everyone Worth Knowing, also by Lauren Weisberger.

However, my absolute favorite author is Rafaella Barker, of Hens Dancing and Summertime. Hard to find, worth the trouble.

As bad a rap as Chick Lit gets, though, the content (at least most of what I've read) isn't bad. A lot of these authors (all female, however much Nicholas Sparks wants to join the club) are incredibly well read, can string together a decent sentence and have a marvelous knack for voice and pacing. They can research what background they need, or else they know to keep their subject matter limited to what they know. The materialistic subject matter is, by and large, handled with an addictive satire. These women know their stuff.

Trouble is -- and you former English majors can take a deep breath and get ready to scream now -- I find myself more and more comparing the range and subject matter to those of Jane Austen. Let's face it -- there's a reason the Chick Lit authors continue to rip off the mighty Austen's plots.

So here's the issue: Austen and Leo Tolstoy(i) are considered "serious" literature. What makes their work more important than, say, Bridget Jones' Diary? This question is not meant to offend -- I honestly wonder about this. I especially find it hard to understand why the likes of Jack Kerouac and Earnest Hemingway are so all-fired worth our time. Sure, Kerouac was "experimental," but most of the experimenting had to do with drugs -- the typewriter just happened to be handy, and now high school students must suffer. Don't even get me started on John Updike. I'm starting to think the only thing cringe-worthy for (most) Chick Lit is the often garish cover art.

For further research, I'd recommend:

Rafaella Barker
Lauren Weisberger
Marion Keyes
Sophie Kinsella
Haven Kimmel
Sarah Mlynowski
Jane Green
Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez

But really, he's ferocious

2006-10-25T14:13:00.000-06:00

Seen last week just outside the store:

A Yorkshire Terrier. Named Rocky. Wearing a Harley-Davidson doggie t-shirt.

Meh

2006-10-16T11:29:00.000-06:00

It's hardest to post when one hasn't in a while. Do I apologize? That would be weird -- but then, I get annoyed (inappropriately so, I know) when my friends don't post for a while.

So, anyway, what I was doing -- among other things, taking care of sick husband who may or may not have been battling a case of the mumps. Blood tests came back negative, but then there wasn't any other better reason for the very large lump that temporarily took up residence along Husband's left jaw.

In an effort to rally the troops, I borrowed one of my mother-in-law's cats for an afternoon. That turned out well (cat vomiting in transit notwithstanding), but now I really miss not having cat in the apartment.

It was an unexpected (pleasant!) surprise to be able to see Hannah a few weekends ago when she showed up for Homecoming (we ran into each other at the French Market). But I wanted to give you a heads up, Hannah -- you were probably exposed to the mumps while on campus (which is where Michael may or may not have caught it the week before), and while it's not a severe case that's going around, it is draining. He's still pretty exhausted.

I'm pretty drained, too. Don't exactly know why ... could be I've caught a micro version of what Michael had, could be PMS, could be SADD (no sun for a while), could be a simple case of ennui, don't know. I'm just going through a time where dealing with customers -- people in general -- is really driving me crazy. I'd like a little hut in the woods right about now. A simple cabin with a vegetable and herb garden in back, a little goathut past that, and an anonymous Chocolate Fairy who leaves offerings on my doorstep every morning.

Yeah, sounds like PMS.

Too many ideas, not much substance

2006-10-03T10:36:00.000-06:00

Lots of things I could post ... today's happenings at the animal shelter:

Dutton the Overgrown Kitten is going through a phase of Not Looking Before Leaping: off my shoulder (almost into a trash can), onto the windowsill (by way of an -- oops, open -- bin of cat litter), up on top of the cages (which were almost too far away), etc.
The sight of a teeny kitten in a dogcatcher's net, spitting and swearing at the top of its lungs What It'll Do When It Gets Out.
A slightly older kitten with very wet sneezes who starts purring and making starfish-paws as soon as he sees a human looking at him.
Roni and Mac are still there, and still keeping me posted on all the goings-on at the shelter while I'm not there.

Another bad day at the store yesterday ... why do Some Mothers think it's OK to let their kids run completely wild in public? I'm sure I'll have a different perspective when I have my own, but ... I've seen other moms with very active kids who still manage public outings without any bloodshed. If I based my opinion of children completely on my experiences yesterday, oy.

Turns out druids come in handy -- their animal companions in particular. Out druid's eagle handily killed a couple huge spiders for us and saved our skins. And I thought druids were just a bunch of sissies. Might need to re-form that opinion.

Picture this ...

2006-09-27T14:31:00.000-06:00

Find a (legal) recording of AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" (or any AC/DC, for that matter) -- iTunes has it, the 30-second demo is fine.

Then ...

Imagine Elmo singing the song instead.

Not much changes, but suddenly AC/DC gets a whole lot better -- and funnier.

Thought I'd share. My brain works funny in the morning.

If you can't see the picture, somebody help!

2006-09-22T14:07:00.000-06:00

This, my friends, is a lovely photo of my wonderful little boy, Scratchy. This was taken a few years before he died. There never was a more deliberate, serious, earnest cat -- who also had a tendency to do the strangest things (see previous blogs).

I had forgotten to mention that he developed a taste for yogurt when he was about 10. All of a sudden, he'd come up to a person and tell them that he Needed Something Really, Really Bad [sic]. He'd then lead them to the fridge, where he'd inform them that he Needed Yogurt, and that's where they came in.

But he wouldn't eat it out of a bowl or off the foil cap -- he had to share it. From the spoon. We worked out an agreement (a spoonful for him, a spoonful for me, etc.) wherein I'd share the spoon with him, but only if he cleaned the spoon completely. Thus I got out of the habit of eating yogurts with fruit chunks, because that was the one stipulation Scratchy had: he said he'd clean the spoon, but only if there weren't fruit chunks. Cats Don't Eat Fruit. He made a passing bid for yogurt with meat chunks, but that discussion closed very quickly.