Category: Companion Animals

i am disgust

Just woke up in the middle of my usual sleep cycle, wide awake.

Hopefully I can tire myself out. Did manage to remember that I’ve got wet laundry, so maybe that’s what woke me up (I dreamed the doorbell rang, actually) – I sprang to full consciousness. So I trudged downstairs, Buster mewing at me, to swap the laundry.

Speaking of Buster, I figured out how to ask him to make a choice between two activities yesterday morning. I put the brush down on the floor next to the ‘birdy’ he likes playing with and I said, “Kisses brush, kisses birdy?” and he walked forward RIGHT AWAY and nosed the birdy so I played with him for a while. It was amazing how fast he did it.

 

 

regular day

Did a little shop with Alex after school to get some SCHNAX into the house.

Brief aside. For the CHEESE TAX.

I am awake far too early. Miss Jeff. Forgot to lock the cat door yesterday and haven’t seen Buster since supper, I’ll update once he’s up / home. Started rewatching Good Omens S1 because I’m a dolt.

Apparently there were immense streamers of northern lights across the north shore mountains last night.

mOm’s given me her marching orders with respect to the next Brad and Omar story, which will have YAKS. I will take some time to ruminate and then start writing again.

Next order of biz coffee.

 

a few words

pOp is staying at least one overnight in hospital. My poor mother. He’s got an intermittent fever and the docs don’t like it. Her cleaning specialist was there today and (as always) a sweet and gentle Godsend for my mOm. Of course I told mOm to call me anytime. Conveyed Liz’s greetings to her and pOp.

This is Willow

Alex played with his friends for 15 minutes after school and got to see a chameleon!  (I waited in the car; friends are important!) His mommabear supplied him with a sammy for lunch.

I am continuing to train Buster regarding Alex. Before Alex came over I said about ten times; ‘Alex coming, noisy. Noisy Alex. Alex will be here soon.” Then when Alex was here (and playing gaming videos and minding his own business) I took him in to say hello but he didn’t bolt. He went into the next room, and didn’t hide (progress!!! yes!) and then I played with him and brushed him FOR A LONG TIME. He’ll get used to the lad yet. But of course letting him know that Alex is coming will help him adjust.

Buster isn’t complaining at all when we close the cat door. I think there’s a new mean kitty out there.

More laundry; two more loads today and the first three either folded or put away.

No joy whatsoever in getting hold of Paul. I assume since it’s a nice day he’s conversatin’ with the ladies out on the patio at Thornbridge. And I hope he has a lovely time!

Alex is using expensive paints and a seven dollar canvas to paint right now and I can hardly wait to see what he does. Right now it looks like the Eye of Sauron. He just threw huge swathes of copper paint on it this should be good.

 

 

cat tree

Buster’s current cat tree is very old and ratty; he’ll get a new one tonight (Suzanne is helping) and we’ll put the old one on the deck. Or maybe it will go straight into the trash, it needs to be completely reupholstered.

Upholstery comes from the Middle English upholder, a person who furnished cloth and mattresses for beds and other furniture. What a weird damned word. Now it’s only used with ‘of the law’ after it.

677 words yesterday on TB, way more than I expected given that I felt crushed when I awoke (air quality was like 250 !!! into the purple zone !! overnight). The air is much better today but still not in the green zone.

Repotted the five little peyotes. It was a lot harder getting five of them apart than two, believe me, but the biggun was pushing roots right out of the pot so it was time. I should water them again later today.

Coffee brings me life this morning. Time for another one lol.

Drew Barrymore is a scab. She crossed the picket line to film an advertisement in Vancouver. HEAVY SIGH.

which one of you incredibly quiet people wants a bsky invite code?

 

so sad for Buster

The cone doesn’t actually come off until tomorrow morning. After the cone shenanigans when he was neutered, Jeff with my cooperation is being a stickler for following the vet’s instructions. Sutures are out at least so he’ll be less itchy. He healed like a total champ.

Here’s an interesting article about Indigenous accomplishments in Australia, dating all the way back to the dreamtime.

I’m helping look after Ryker tomorrow.

I won’t talk about it in public, but I did something very stupid yesterday and made myself barf again. Jeff knows about it.

Booked a mammogram for August. Still have not been able to get hold of the doctor’s office but hopefully they’re open today.

so happy for Buster

Today’s the day! CONE COMES OFF, STITCHES OUT. … also today I phone the doc’s office and ask why the fuck she didn’t email me my requisition which she said she would do on the phone during our last appointment.

Three months of rent cheques off to the landpeer this am.

Feeling pretty good, except my nose is running. The grass pollen is insanely high.

Still plugging away at TB (65K words and NO SIGN OF WRAPPING UP) and Handyman Special (12902 words DITTO)

Peggy is threatening tourtiere

OH GOD will I survive?  She’s from northern Quebec, of course she knows how to make a tourtiere of note.

She is also threatening the last of the strawberry rhubarb pie. Jeff, reading this, is wiping off drool. I await delivery with high hopes.

Jeff and I were witnesses to some of Paul’s paperwork. I thank Lois and Ruth for stickhandling this, it never would have happened without them.

The ukulele reappeared. It was exactly where I left it, in the music room. If I had lost it I would be sad, but when Mike called I told him and he just laughed and laughed when I explained I lost something in my house and he said…. that’s my every day for months.

So…. heard from Mike. He nearly died yesterday, he went kayaking in Pitt Lake. The inflatable kayak burst and a rain storm came up and HE JUST BARELY MADE IT BACK TO SHORE, his arms were still shaking occasionally when he called me. He watched a satellite video just to ensure that he hadn’t been dreaming about how fast the storm blew up and nope, it happened like he said. Anyway, he sounded quite chipper, the way you always do when you avoid death by drowning by inches.

Buster’s leg wound from the surgery is healing nicely but he’s a long way from having the cone off. He completely freaked out when Lois and Paul came over yesterday for the document signing, it was rough for him. It’s possible he was confused over the car sound and couldn’t figure out who was coming and going with the Echo coming and going but me not being in it. Lois will return the car today and fly home, and she will be missed.

The battery on the laptop now discharges to 50 percent when left fully charged but unplugged overnight. I wish you could easily replace the batteries in these fuckers. I’ve pinged a repair shop for help; should be about 150 to 200 dollars.

a few items

Mo-no-ny-mous
I mean Shakira
Mo-no-ny-mous
And also Cher
Mo-no-ny-mous
Adele and Bono
and Plato, & Cato,
Colette – and don’t forget Voltaire

(This above for mOm, I sang it to her the other day and she laughed so I thought I’d write it down for her.)

Made fruit salad for the meal yesterday. Last I saw, leaving their house, Paul was going to eat the rest before anyone got seconds. It was that good. And candidly, given that he daily complains about how hard his poops are, who minds that he inhales some food value with his roughage.

It consisted of pieces of melon, blueberries, strawberries, mangoes, the best fucking Bartlett pears I ever et, and oranges. The dressing which is from a recipe I got online, I’m not smart enough to invent it, and it’s for those who can eat dairy: a cup and a half of 10%BF Greek yogurt, three tablespoons of maple syrup and half a capful of vanilla. WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS how nommy it is, and like I said I would have taken home leftovers if there had been any. The mouth feel, good god yall.

Oreo sat on my shoulders a good long while and purred hard in my ear.

I PLAYED A BOARD GAME WITH THREE QUARTERS OF MY DESCENDANTS YESTERDAY. It was Alex’s idea and I had so much fun. Hasbro’s latest version of Clue, if you need to know.

Dax changed the oil in my car. I asked him anxiously from the back deck if the oil was very dirty and he swilled it around in the container and considered the matter and said, ‘Yes’ so dryly that I burst out laughing. I owe him forty bucks for the filter and the oil so I’ll be heading out to drop it off sometime today. Perhaps I’ll combine it with a trip to Peggy’s to ditch that weird fretless bass ukulele.

Made soup yesterday. Started with a litre of unsalted Campbell’s chicken stock, added organic ramen (so damn good), chopped carrots, mushrooms, baby bok choi, a little tiny dab of veggie soup base, a splish of soy sauce. Today or tomorrow I am going to attempt Instant Pot (did you know the parent company is going out of business thanks to asset stripping? Capitalism HOW YOU SUCK) red beans and rice. I may bake up some chicken breasts and taters since the weather seems to be veering off into ‘June-uary’ temperatures.

Thunder and lightning two days ago. Not usual for these parts. We talked about the weather a lot yesterday.

Ryker was just down for his nap and Alex kissed his head AND WOKE HIM UP. He was down for most of the meal and the board game but since he’d gotten no other nap that day and was up at 6:30 Katie was SPARE while Ryker ran around the house terrorizing everything he could and parroting everything his mother said. WITH HER INTONATION. He’s got dozens and dozens of words, some clear enough that people who don’t live with him can understand him. Keith was like that, pristine pronunciation from the git. But Ryker is DIFFERENT. He is stronger, braver (yeah, like no sense of self preservation) smarter, faster, funnier, more able to understand what the adults around him are saying, more able to self-soothe, more durable – he took hits yesterday that would have had me bawling and just walked it off – picking up language so fast. Mike the father brought him back with a pinch bruise on his leg from a recliner, apologetic af, and Katie wasn’t bothered. What can you do? He’s not Alex, or Keith, who conducted themselves from a very early age knowing that the world can bite ya. I told her they should promise each other ten bucks and hand it to whichever of them DOESN’T have to take him to hospital with a broken bone first. You should have seen Katie rubbing her face as she contemplated how many TIMES she’ll likely have to take him to hospital. Like the tshirt said, today we keep the tiny human alive. Except he’s NOT tiny, he can open and shut doors with the handle.

everything about the visit is overshadowed by the fact that Alex is crying every day about how he can no longer go to second street school because his mother can’t afford to live in the catchment area. And the landlord fucked her over by not giving her a duly completed eviction notice so she can’t move up the BC housing list. This world is a horrible place for my children right now and I am helpless.

Over 500 words on TB yesterday. Richie and Blossom have finally met.

Shifting emphasis

I’m thinking keep the blog but make it just the release point for a podcast (with a complete and accurate transcript so visually impaired and deaf people can consume it) on a regular schedule. I have some ideas. LOL. I am, after all, an idea factory. I’m making a list of episode subjects and am considering various formats.

I don’t know why, but I’m thinking of a film made in Africa (I was 18, forgive me if I didn’t keep my class notes about which country it was filmed in and I can’t find anything in Wikipedia.) In it, the present day in a bustling city is depicted in colour; but his fantasies about becoming rich and immigrating are in black and white. I remember at the time being much struck by the emotional resonance of this; that your fantasies are so shopworn as to no longer be vibrant, and as a visual metaphor for the protagonist’s internal life I’ve rarely seen the equal.

We finished “One Day as a Lion”. mOm, picture Totally Boned if it was a het couple and set in the hottest ass end of Oklahoma (and people get shot…). I personally loved it (there were so many little beaut touches), Jeff was so so and said the script needed a punch up and the ending was too abrupt (both valid comments.) It is TOTALLY an ‘instant family Harlequin Romance with dead bodies.”

I forgive Scott Caan (son of James) his ‘career’ as a rapper (I believe I have made CLEAR my opinion of white rappers who did not come up in the business credibly integrated with Black ones) if he can produce little bloodstained film confections like this.

I have to do my Lumosity and get dressed, Jeff wants to do a schlep this morning. We don’t normally go on the weekend. Just checked to make sure they’re open at 7, since we hardly ever go on Sunday (the organic homo is usually all gone.)

As predicted air quality (the Alberta fires) is moderately bad (60 and variable) and today’s going to be the hottest day of this heat wave so don’t do a goddamned thing outside today. Just sayin.

Efforts to teach Buster to count to three are going badly. All he does is start salivating when I count to three, since that means I’m about to drop some treats on his little tuffet. Considering that other people’s pets do things like speculate as to whether a new human baby brother will cry when being stuck in the car seat I feel sad until he commands me to pet him, at which point I calm down.

 

pleasant times

Lovely indoor walk with Paul yesterday at Lougheed. He seems very beaten down and oppressed by his illness but cheered up for the walk. It always cheers folks up to eat, so we got some lo mai gai, which was particularly fine in comparison with previous outings, and there was a lone har gaw in there because they were out of enough lo mai gai to fulfil my order, and the hot and sour soup was as good as I ever remember it being there. We went to Cobb’s but I didn’t buy treats, just spongy crusty white bread which is my kryptonite for stuff I’m s’posed to lay off for my liver.

Continue reading pleasant times

quietly productive

I emptied and ran the dishwasher, wiped down the hellhole surfaces in the kitchen closest to the compost buckets and got most of the rain of tomato out of the microwave, trained the cat, made and thoroughly enjoyed a coffee, possibly wrote a song, did my wordle and lumosity training, clipped Buster’s claws, made ‘meat and potatoes’ for lunch, sent a thousand words to mOm, figured out what my next couple of scenes are (although I’m not putting pressure on myself to write) and I generally luxuriated in the life of a retired person. I took my meds at the right time. I stayed hydrated. I put in eyedrops before I went to bed.

That’s what I’m supposed to do, right?

Watched the Netflix film the Pale Blue Eye. Harry Melling as Edgar Allan Poe was wonderful. Harry Melling’s grandad was the second Doctor Who, who knew. Gillian Anderson’s bizarre mom to a bizarre family was …. bizarre and hypercreepy.  Christian Bale as the haunted detective was quite effective. I really enjoyed the script. Unlike many scripts (many, many; hear me whine) set in historical times, it neither gracelessly dropped modern slang like horseshit into a griddle nor overdid the ceremony and style of days of speech in days of yore. I didn’t hear a single anachronism. Do you have any idea how pleasant that is for a writer? I mean there were many constructions that would likely not have happened in the 1830s, but nothing so far from contemporary usage that it was repellent. For that alone, huit sur dix.

Jeff Bezos, may the intertwined Fates of a thousand cultures give him his reward, has, through Amazon, bought an Indian publishing house called Westland Publishing. It is one of the few publishing houses in India that has the wit and courage to publish ANYTHING that challenges Hindutva. (Spoiler alert, I think that all countries are idiotic, but once you have a settled state that calls itself a democracy, you should perhaps not support a political ideology that FIGHTS LIKE HELL AGAINST PLURALISTIC DEMOCRACY BECAUSE HINDUS ARE JUST BETTER, KK? Plus the caste system is groovy, men own women’s bodies, marital rape is super cool, cops can kill women who report rapes after raping them again, and Muslims are arson targets) OKAY maybe I’m being a racist asshole, oh look, I’m not. I really don’t think that China and India holding hands over kicking the shit out of Muslims is a good look for either country; people are dying in riots pogroms and political reeducation camps in both countries. Anyway, Bezos is literally supporting global fascism by doing that and we already knew he was a cruel billionaire, but HONESTLY can’t he just fucking stop.

Anyway, the closure of the publishing house means that hundreds of titles are no longer available. Absolutely no word on how and when they could be available elsewhere. There’s more than one way to be fash. Having the money to buy good things that support democracy and discourse, and destroy them (huLLLLLO Elongated Greaserat) is fascist.

a six year old is in custody for shooting his teacher. The cops didn’t arrest the person responsible for leaving a loaded pistol out. Everything you need to know about gun culture in the US in one story. (from CNN website, 6-year-old in custody after shooting teacher in Virginia, police chief says By Amanda Musa and Jennifer Feldman, CNN
Updated 7:19 AM EST, Sat January 7, 2023)

 

Christmas Void – Jan and Soon’s new cat Count Tricksy

Christmas Void, Christmas Void / hiding by the tree. / Will you ever try to drop the Christmas tree on me OH / Christmas Void, Christmas Void / hiding by the tree. / Will you ever try to drop the Christmas tree on me. / Make the tree to shed / by using it to shred / It is not alive / but not exactly dead (a ZOMTREE) / Festive all our hearts / Seasonal our joy / Now that Tannenbaum is up the cat has got a toy! OH!

 

& repeat until people throw crackers.

The return of the catfather

Buster was waiting on the back stairs for Jeff upon his return, which made for a pleasant moment. Jeff has recovered from the grab bag of indignities that ferry travel subjects him to. Before his arrival I managed to get all the food containers and compostable trash dealt with so the kitchen wasn’t armpit high in trash.

Continue reading The return of the catfather