I managed to dress myself properly today. This shirt has buttons near the top, providing both visual and tactile information on whether or not I have it on inside out.
Also, I wore pants.
Who knows what tomorrow may bring? I face it unafraid.
Author: boolie
How Did They Know?
I’ve been thinking a lot about Templeton lately and missing the way he would curl up on my lap and purr himself to sleep.
After I got home two nights ago, Scout climbed up on me when I sat down and curled up for a nap. Last night Sam climbed up first and then Scout came up, they were purring and rubbing all over each other before settling down.
And then tonight, Sam’s curled up in my lap as I type this.
God bless my kittens.
I Shouldn’t Be Allowed To Dress Myself
I really shouldn’t.
At the end of the work day as I got ready to leave, I realized I had my shirt on inside out, and it had been that way the entire day. I thought back to how many people would have seen me like that, I’m sure some of my colleagues must think I’m a maroon, but fortunately I had worn another shirt over it most of the day to stay warm.
Still …
A Familiar Sight
Sam and Emma have been with us long enough that their personalities are really starting to come out. It’s been fun to get to know them and see them blossom as they truly understand that they have found a home for the rest of their lives. All three cats are getting along well and in the mornings they’re usually all snuggled into bed with us. And even though I’ve been glad to see them develop their own distinct personalities, I have been amused that they each share a trait or two with our dear departed Templeton.
Emma has mellowed out a bit, she used to follow us underfoot every time we went up and down the stairs, which was good exercise for her, but I’m glad she’s comfortable enough now that she can see us leave the room and be OK with that. She won’t let me go to the bathroom without opening the door and coming in, but Templeton used to do that too. He didn’t push the door quite so wide open though, he at least left with me a shred of dignity.
Emma’s not the best groomer, something we suspected when we first brought her home. She does OK with the parts of her body she can lick directly, but the top of her head and back of her neck don’t get quite so clean. Scout is a fastidious groomer (almost too much so), but she won’t groom anyone else. Little Sam, though, appears to share another one of Templeton’s traits, in that not only is he a good groomer, but he’ll help you out too. He loves to lick your hand if he thinks it needs a cleaning, and I’ve seen him give Emma a little help too.
Today though he wasn’t bashful about it, he grabbed her head with both front paws and went to work. It all went well until he got a little rambunctious with the sleepy Emma. Emma had been sleeping in an Amazon box, one of Templeton’s favorite places to sleep. She’s been sleeping there a lot lately and doesn’t seem to mind the gray fur that lines the edges of the box from Templeton’s many hours in there, I just can’t bring myself to clean it out.
As far as greeting me at the door the way Templeton did, Emma comes the closest as she often sleeps near the door around the time I come home. I don’t know if she’s doing it on purpose or if she just likes sleeping there, but she’s usually at the door by the time I get it open. Sam follows Scout’s approach and usually comes running in from wherever he’s been sleeping.
It’s at those moments, though, that I wished God had blessed me with three arms to pet the three cats who come running up to welcome me home.
Holding Back The Sea
One of my favorite images but I can’t explain exactly why. It’s not my typical subject matter, my typical angle, or my typical lens.
Life on Oregon’s coast is generally pretty peaceful and quiet, but the dawn especially so. It was a cool spring morning, the sun not yet risen, and little could be heard apart from the waves on the shore. As I looked out of my hotel window, a handful of people were out on the beach, exercising, walking their dogs, or just enjoying the beauty of the coast.
As I soaked in the tranquility of the morning, I wanted to stay in the moment, but the sun always rises.
Urchincy
A group of purple sea urchins have carved out holes for themselves in a tide pool at Yaquina Head Outstanding Natural Area in Newport, Oregon. I’m fascinated how a seemingly immobile creature that looks like a prickly cat toy could do such a thing, something I could never do, and yet they can’t remove the driftwood that the tide drops over them.
Give urchins opposable thumbs and they’d probably conquer the world.
Which Way Forward, Part I: The Gathering Storm
I’m reading what is far and away my favorite book, Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird. A while back I decided to read it when I was ready to start writing again, and I’m about at that point.
I had started a novel back in November 2005 (for National Novel Writing Month). It’s a fantasy book, all animals, with the main characters loosely based off of pets I’ve had in my life, plus one animal to represent myself. Really all of the characters reflect who I think I am, wish I was, or am afraid I could be.
I shelved it for a while while I worked out some major plot points and decided what would happen after this part of their story (so I won’t have one of those “Oh wait, Vader should be his father” moments when writing the story that follows).
The characters have been daily companions of mine for the past couple of years, bouncing around in my head, and it’s time to put their story into words. The problem is, I love coming up with the story, but am not so fond of the writing itself. And I like editing even less. But this is something I want to try, as I don’t know how good (or bad) I will be, and there’s only one way to find out.
The biggest obstacle is time. What do I give up to find the time and energy to write? I had considered cutting back on wildlife watching and hiking, but I think that’s the wrong direction to go.
I may have stumbled across the right idea, which is to shut down my web site and use the time I spend writing it for real writing. I could move this blog to a hosted site, and a subset of my pictures to some place like Flickr. The money it takes to run the site could be funneled into photography gear or travel.
I’m a bit hesitant however as I’ve had the site in one form or another going all the way back to my grad school days. Ironically, it was a lot more fun in the early days, even though my photography was terrible and my scans of my negatives even worse. Yet the web was a smaller and friendlier place back then and I got a variety of nice emails from people in all walks of life.
A retired park ranger who was overjoyed to stumble across pictures of a park he used to manage. Couples from around the world who were reminded of places they had honeymooned years ago. Mothers and grandmothers who enjoyed the wildlife that they wouldn’t otherwise get to see. A police officer who liked to look at the images when she needed to relax from the stress of her job.
I rarely get email these days, and personal email even less. A quick search on Google and Yahoo revealed that there are some educational sites linking into mine, but I suspect that the number of visits is pretty small.
I haven’t tracked my site’s statistics in about 10 years, as I write the site for myself — it’s improved my photography by forcing me to organize and critique my pictures. And while that’s still true, some of the photography tools that have emerged the past few years can help with that with less effort.
I’m going to run Google’s analysis tools this month to see how the site is actually being utilized, and then I’ll make a decision on the best way forward. In the meantime, I’ll probably drop the “What’s New” page, to see how much that simplifies things.
Today’s title is a nod to one of my favorite Monty Python episodes, the Golden Age of Ballooning.
I Bow To The Master
This picture of Sam is from his first week with us when he was still quarantined from Scout. He was too tired to play, but wanted to play too much to go to sleep. When he got like this, I’d lay down on the bed and then he’d climb into my lap and fall asleep, but then I couldn’t get anything done as moving would disturb him.
He reminded me of our dear departed Templeton. Sometimes when we were playing Crinkle Bag (his favorite game), Templeton would be so tired that he literally wobbled on his legs as he tried to stay upright, his head bobbing as he tried to keep his eyes open.
Sam seems to have at least one other of Templeton’s traits, as several times I’ve seen Sam climb into my chair if I get up to go get something. Templeton was the true artist when it came to chair stealing, often going so far as to lure me out of the chair in the first place and then doubling back to hop up into the seat and take my place, looking at me with the purest innocence.
At first I thought he preferred the one chair over the other in my office, but he’d do it with both chairs. Then I thought he just wanted the one I had warmed up, and perhaps there is some truth in that. Sometimes, though, I think he just wanted to prove who was the master.
As if I needed the reminder.
Happy Birthday Miss Scout!
The queen of the house turned seven years old yesterday (March 25th). Her mother was feral and Scout and her siblings were born under the house of a friend of ours. She’s slept me on me just about every night since we brought her home. We definitely got the pick of the litter!
This picture of her is from May of 2001, her first month with us. I had a hard time photographing her at this age since she didn’t want to leave my lap when we were playing, but the scratching post gave me a good opportunity. I’d put a little furry mouse on the top and she’d come flying across the room and jump to the top to grab it. On this occasion she knocked the mouse off with her flying attack so it’s not in the picture.
Upside Down
I’m the one who’s upside down in this picture, I was laying down on my back on the hardwood floor and waited for Sam to lean over from his window seat and look down. He likes sleeping on the seat, he’s sometimes there when I come home from work and he certainly seemed to enjoy watching me work in the flower beds the other day.
Boolie 