Category: Photography

Crankypantsing, Photography

Happy Friday!

Shelly

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Belt of Venus 15 December 2005

Yesterday morning was gross and disgusting, with the dreaded “wintry mix” of snow, rain, and sleety crap. The sky cleared up in the afternoon, though, and the rest of the day was absolutely gorgeous. I got another photo of the Belt of Venus at sunset. I think this one turned out a bit better than the last ones I took. The colors are a little more saturated and brighter, I think because the reflectivity of the remaining snow provided more light. The trees in the foreground aren’t just black blobs; they’ve got a bit of shading and definition.

I picked up a track pad, and have been playing around with it. I’m a little meh about it, but for the time being, it’s giving me a break from the mouse. It’s a little frustrating retraining my mousy hand-eye coordination to work with finger-tip motion instead of wrist motion, but adjusting to it hasn’t taken as long as I thought it would. It’s still too early for a thumbs-up or thumbs-down, though. If I decide I like it, I may see if I can get a keyboard-track pad combo for my work computer. A few folks have them, but I wanted to make sure it would be an improvement before asking for one.

I went into town to register my car[1] (finally!) and to get gas and run a few other errands. But! I got to the gas station and my damned bank card wouldn’t work. They’d sent me a replacement card, because a vendor I’d purchased something from had reported being hacked. I called the bank, and according to them the new card ought to work, but for some reason it’s not. So I guess I’m waiting for a new, new card to get here. In the meantime, I have to figure out how I’m going to get cash, which is more problematic than one might think. They’ve closed most of their branches, and the ones that are still open have some seriously wacky-assed–and totally non-work-compatible–hours. Hrmph.

So, anyway, I’ve been home most of the day, with the teevee on in the background. I haven’t been actively watching it, but there’s one ad that’s run repeatedly that’s about to get on my last nerve. It’s an animated commercial for Triaminic, a kids’ cold medicine. In it, a momma clam tries to get her child clam to take its medicine. The child refuses, and the mother whips out the “I’m going to tell your father!” threat. WTF? First, why on earth is the mother incapable of disciplining her kids on her own? Second, what an awful message to send to kids, telling them that their fathers are to be feared. It’s as if a mans main role in child-rearing is to crack the whip and keep his kids in line. That’s fucked up.

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[1] I love the folks at the local BMV[2]. I didn’t have the registration for my old car (I’d left it in the glove compartment), but they still let me recycle my old plate. The only problem was that the date sticker had peeled almost all the way off it. It was still hanging on, but there was no way I could put it on my car that way and expect it not to fall off. The woman said I’d have to go to the police to get a new sticker (and pay a $6 replacement fee). Hrmph. But, she took another look at it, and said she might be able to fix it well enough to keep the sticker on the plate. She took it into the back room, glued the hell out of it, and brought it back to me. Yay! It’s a little crinkled, but it’s intact and stuck tight to the plate.

[2] Yes, that’s right. I’ve never had a long wait, even when the place was packed. They’re quick and cheerful and so far have been quite helpful. I can totally recommend this product and/or service!1!!

Art, Photography

Winter Ramblings

Shelly

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After last week’s episode of Adventures in Driving, I ended up staying home all weekend for an extended snow holiday. I wish I could say I got lots of important stuff accomplished, but mostly, I slept, played with the dog, slept, read books, slept, played with the dog, and slept some more. Also, I slept. And played with the dog. Apparently, I had a lot of sleeping to catch up on, which was good, because I ended up staying up way past my bedtime last night. I had to watch the finale of Survivor, dontchaknow?

Anyway, the long weekend was a much-needed mini mental health holiday. I did finally get around to clearing the rest of the snow off the deck and car yesterday, before it could refreeze into a sheet of ice. Since I still haven’t bought a window scraper, I figured I’d better plan ahead. That was about the most constructive thing I did. Alas, it was only marginally helpful.

When I pulled in on Thursday–after unsticking myself after I slid off the road–I’d been waffling about leaving the car in 4WD. Should I or shouldn’t I? I finally decided on “should,” and was damned glad of it this morning. We’d gotten just enough sleet yesterday, then snow overnight, to make the lane close to impossible to navigate. It was that yucky almost-freezing slush that, when compacted (by, like, feet or car tires), turns to ice. So, of course, I ended up sliding sideways into the neighbors’ yard again. Did I mention that they’ve got a pond that is disturbingly close to the road? It’s not so scary when going up the lane, but coming down it, if you slide off in the right place–and, of course, I did–you feel like you’re aimed right at it. Luckily, it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. I was able to get myself out and get onto the public road without too much trouble, but even so, that’s not what I wanted to be doing at 5am.

I love cold and snow–truly I do–but (obviously!) I hate to drive in it. I also can’t stand the dreary Indiana winters. The sun finally came out today, which helped, but we’ll soon return to the endless monotony of grey, grey, grey. And more snow on Wednesday, too, likely mixed with sleet and freezing rain and all the vile crap that takes all the fun out of snowdays. Humph.

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So, about Survivor… I wasn’t really keen on any of the final contestants after Gary was voted out. It was more a matter of who I didn’t want to win (isn’t that usually the case?) As far as I was concerned, as long as Judd didn’t win, I would’ve been happy. Stephanie not winning was a bonus, though. I don’t know why, but I just didn’t like her. She was whiny and negative this time around. Or, maybe, she was always that way and I didn’t notice it previously? Either way, I wasn’t impressed with her.

Judd, though, was another matter. Talk about rude, obnoxious, petulant, mean, selfish, arrogant, and ignorant. I really can’t think of anything nice to say about him. He was a complete ass, to the point that I often had to turn the channel because I couldn’t stand the embarrassment factor. I had to laugh, though, when he had a melt-down because Stephanie had the audacity to not share information with him. Specifically, she didn’t tell him that she and the others had decided to vote him out. Can you blame her, after the shit fits he threw when others dared to cross him? Who in their right mind would want to invite one of his diatribes? Why on earth it came as a surprise to him that others–even those in his alliance–would perhaps not share all their cards with him, is a mystery to me. It happens in real life, and a competition such as Survivor is bound to intensify the behavior. No matter how well you know someone, trust them, and believe they have your best interests in mind, you simply cannot share everything with them. Aside from the fact that humans need a psychological buffer, it’s just not possible to share every waking thought with another person. Nor, if you’re trying to ultimately get an advantage over others, is it desirable.

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Speaking of things that make me go hmmm, there was a recent discussion in the Collage Museum group (I believe the archives are public) about art vs. craft. This is one of those topics that pops up regularly, and never fails to ruffle feathers and knot knickers. Why, I’ll never figure out if I live to be a gazillion. In this go-round–which produced some meaty food for thought–someone took offense at another person’s definitions of the two terms. Several others chimed in to define and explain their points of view. Then, for some mind boggling reason, someone else started tsk-tsking, and demanded that the subject be dropped, because it offended her. Yet another person also requested the subject be discontinued, because he is “very busy” and cannot be bothered to read voluminous posts covering such piddling matters. M’kaythen. Are these last two people adults, or what? If they’re busy, or offended, then stop reading. Don’t expect others to do your censoring for you. Would you walk into a party, decide you didn’t like the music, and proceed to demand that the hosts and/or guests cater to your wishes to have it changed? You could, I suppose, but I wouldn’t recommend it, as it’s in spectacularly bad taste.

I’m quite happy to report that, though my experience with Yahoo groups is that the list owner will almost always shut down a discussion if anyone starts whinypantsing, the owner of the Collage Museum group did not do so. Good for him.

Vaguest Teaser Evar, AHOY!1!! Speaking of art, I’ve got a new altered book idea. I haven’t started on it, and the concept hasn’t coalesced enough to describe, but I don’t think it’ll be long before I’m ready to begin. I’ll post more when it starts to take shape.

[The above photographs depict the Belt of Venus, taken 5 December 2005. The Belt of Venus is the strip of pinkish color sandwiched between the blue sky (above) and the darker blue shadow of the earth (below). It appears after sunset and before sunrise, along the horizon opposite the sun. The top two photos show the dark shadow more clearly, just above the horizon. In the bottom picture, it’s a faint band nestled just above the dip at the center of the ridge line. It’s nice to have periodic reminders of why I put up with crappy Indiana weather. The gorgeous landscape is a major one.]

Photography

Instant Review: Baking a Cake

Shelly

It’s cold and snowy, so baking a cake seemed like the obvious thing to do. One of my favorites is cockeyed cake–the cake you make when you don’t have any cake-making ingredients in the house. No butter? No eggs? No baking powder? No milk? No problem! Bake a cockeyed cake. Which I did. Except, as I was pulling it out of the oven, I dropped the pan and the cake landed on the oven rack, upside down. What a pain in the arse. I had bits of cake everywhere. Not to be deterred, though, I whipped up another one. I will have cake, damnit!

Cockeyed Cake
1 1/2 cup flour
1 cup sugar
1/3 cup cocoa
1/4 cup cooking oil
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup water
1 tsp baking soda
1 tbls vinegar
dash of salt

Mix the dry ingredients in a bowl. Mix together the wet ingredients (I measure the water in a 2 cup Pyrex measuring cup, then add the rest of the wet ingredients to it and mix them together). Add the wet ingredients to the dry and mix thoroughly. Pour into a greased cake pan and bake at 350F for 20-30 minutes (I really don’t know how long it takes. I test for doneness by pressing the center of the cake gently with a finger, or inserting a fork into it. If the fork comes out clean, it’s done.)

It’s nice and moist, so it’s good unfrosted. Occasionally, we’d make caramelly butterscotch sauce to pour over it. That, too, is easy peasy.

Caramelly Butterscotch Sauce
1 can sweetened condensed milk (you can substitute milk, cream, or evaporated milk, for a less sweet sauce)
1 stick butter (not margarine!)
1 cup brown sugar
dash of vanilla

Chuck it all in a sauce pan and let everything melt together. Bring to boil and cook to soft ball stage. It will brown slightly, which is fine. It’s a thin line between browned and burnt, though, so be careful not to overcook it. Let it cool slightly, then pour it over the warm cake and enjoy.

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Cockeyed Cake with Caramel-Butterscotch Icing

Crankypantsing, Pets, Photography

Instant Review: Snow!

Shelly

I don’t know how much snow we finally ended up with, but it’s a goodly amount. And, it’s purty. As of last night’s news, it was six inches. We had high winds overnight, so there’s likely a lot of drifting on some of the back roads. I decided to stay home today, because I didn’t even want to think about repeating yesterday’s driving experience. It was truly, truly horrible.

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A normally 35 minute drive took me over 2.5 hours. The roads had not been plowed or sanded or anything. I saw several plows travelling in the opposite lane, with blades up, but the west-bound lane hadn’t been touched. WTF? Every place where the snow was churned up made me fish-tail, so intersections were, um, interesting. It was really a horrible, horrible experience, but somehow I managed to get home without wrecking.

The funny/good/sad part was that I managed to stay on the road, but when I got home, I slid off our lane and got stuck tight in the neighbor’s yard. Haw! Much hilarity ensued. I was wearing stupid shoes and short socks, for maximum snow-up-the-legs effect. I was also dressed thoroughly inappropriately, in a t-shirt and a hoodie, with no gloves, scarf, or hat. No shovel, either. Or cat litter. So, I had to walk home to get properly dressed and get a shovel and cat litter (and to let Harriet out, which was ridiculously funny. Harriet: “Eeew! WTF is that?!). But, I got unstuck all by myself, which I’m sure, if the neighbors were watching out their windows, afforded them much high-quality entertainment. It also gave me a chance to work off all the scared-to-the-point-of-vomiting nervous energy I’d worked up driving home, so it was probably all-in-all not a bad thing.

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And then I got to hang out with Harriet and play in the snow, which was all kinds of fun. She was much put out at first, but she quickly got her snow legs and did all sorts of snow-plowing, boinging, snow-snorting, and bird chasing. It’s a whole new world when you cover it with white stuff.

I have to say that I’m pretty happy with how the Tracker handled in the snow. Yeah, I was slipping and sliding all over the place, but not as badly as many other folks. And, after I dug myself out of the neighbor’s yard, I was able to actually get up the driveway. That would *not* have been possible in the MoonPie of Delight. *love*

One thing I do not love, though, is students. As I was trying to leave campus yesterday, they were in all sorts of inadvisable, dangerous places, doing all sorts of inadvisable, dangerous things. Cars were obviously sliding everywhere, but there were students walking out right in front of them. What the hell were they thinking?! The pièce de résistance, though, was a group of students standing in the middle of the road, throwing snowballs at cars. That kind of fuck-headed asshattery ought to be criminal.

Crankypantsing, Ladybusiness, News & Politics, Pets, Photography

Friday Round-up

Shelly

Harriet has long contended that squirrels are eeevil, that they should be exterminated, and that she’d ought to be the one doing the exterminating. Now, we have proof that her concerns were well founded.

Squirrels have bitten to death a stray dog which was barking at them in a Russian park, local media report.

Passers-by were too late to stop the attack by the black squirrels in a village in the far east, which reportedly lasted about a minute.

They are said to have scampered off at the sight of humans, some carrying pieces of flesh.

A pine cone shortage may have led the squirrels to seek other food sources, although scientists are sceptical.

Via Feministe: A play in one act, in which a professor entered his office, to find that two students had broken in and were having sex. Now, the story is plenty damned funny on its own, especially this bit, wherein the trespassing male tells the prof to go away and threatens to report him for sexual harassment.

HALF-NAKED MALE: GO THE FUCK AWAY! THIS IS PRIVATE! WE’RE BUSY!
ME: (holding the door half-open) I’m coming in.
HALF-NAKED MALE: STOP HARASSING US YOU PERVERT OR I’LL REPORT YOU!
ME: (still holding door) You’ll report me for your having sex in my office?
HALF-NAKED MALE: GO THE FUCK AWAY!
ME: (still holding door) That’s it. Put your clothes back on. You can’t have sex in my office.

The comments, too, are worth reading. However, I found myself thinking the entire event would have been even more amusing if the prof had quietly entered the office, sat down, and gone about his regular work, ignoring the burgling shaggers.

Via The Smirking Chimp, a rant about Bill O’Reilly and the “war on [White] Christmas”. Because, after all, it is the season. It includes the following gem, on Christmas balls Holiday ornaments:

Speaking of buying, I have a problem with your online shop there, Bill. Yeah, yeah — I hate to interrupt a good misguided rant, but I’m disappointed in you guys at Fox News and the O’Reilly Factor. Being as I’m holding out hope that Christmas won’t be stolen by the liberal Whos of Evil-doer-Whoville (you can use that one, too), I went to the online Fox News Shop to buy some of your balls. But what’s this? I couldn’t find a single Christmas ball in the store! They’d been replaced by these bizarre spheres called “Holiday Ornaments.” The description under the The O’Reilly Factor ornaments claim they’re designed to adorn something called a “holiday tree.” What is this so-called holiday tree? I know what is a Christmas tree, but this holiday tree thing has me stymied. Do I need to buy a second tree? What’s the deal?

Ah, I do so love the smell of hot, buttered irony in the morning.

I’ve mentioned that I watch Survivor, haven’t I? Last night’s episode was lovely, because Judd was finally voted off (hallelujah!). Even lovelier was his reaction. After a speech, in which he claimed that no one was safe, that anyone could be voted off at any time, and that there should be no whineypantsing about it, because it’s a game, stupid, Judd turned around and cursed his tribemates for having the nerve to give him a boot to the head. What an ass!

Speaking of people who need a boot to the head, Oprah gets on my very last nerve. When she’s not busy leading her cult members in I Love Oprah fests, she’s telling women that they should submit themselves to the patriarchy. Most recently, this patriarchifilia has taken the form of touting a new and apparently mediocre form of plastic surgery, called a “thread lift.” Small barbed, plastic threads are inserted under the skin. The barbs catch and hold the tissue, so that it can be pulled tight. Apparently, one can have this relatively inexpensive and speedy procedure done during one’s lunch hour. Because, you know, women ought to have bits of plastic stitched into their faces, so that they can look more babe-uh-licious. Or something. No matter that the procedure can potentially do more harm than good. I dunno about y’all, but I don’t think pain and deformation sound very sexy.

And, don’t even get me started on her magazine. Talk about a heaping helping of harmful messages.

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And now for the obligatory Friday dogblogging, starring everyone’s favorite Boxer, Miss Harriet Brown. This was taken last Saturday, in my mom’s kitchen. Harriet is such a delicate flower that she insists she can’t lie on the bare, hard floor. She’d rather have a nice, fluffy dog bed, but a rag rug will suffice in a pinch. It’s not like there wasn’t a comfy couch for her to sleep on, either. There was, and it was even heaped with pillows and blankets and all manner of soft, cushy things amongst which dainty Boxer dogs might wish to lie. But, no. We were sitting around the kitchen table, drinking coffee and talking, so Harriet had to be in the kitchen with us. To supervise, dontchaknow. That’s onna count of the fact that humans cannot be trusted on their own. This is apparently a sacrament that every Boxer dog holds dear.

And now, a rumpus of random ramblings:

  • Whispering–I can’t stand it. All that pst pst psting drives me batshit crazy.
  • Obsessive throat clearing–I can’t stand that, either. It’s one thing to periodically clear your throat, or to do so more frequently when you’re sick, but when you make disgusting horky noises every two minutes, that’s socially unacceptable.
  • Did you realize that you can rearrange the order of tabs in Firefox, by grabbing and moving them? “The more you know…”
  • Overheard at work: “How long have we had MS Office?” Um, how long have you worked here?
  • I hate it when people ask for information, then don’t pay attention to the answer! Surely there’s a special place in Hell for such time wasters?
  • I spilled something on my shirt this morning, and didn’t notice it until I got to work, so I turned it around so the stain wouldn’t bother me.
  • While watching teevee last night, and petting the dog, I noticed that she’s getting white patches of hair inside her ears. Her muzzle started to go grey years ago, which is common in Boxers, but damn, 6.5 is too young to be going grey.
  • I have to work on Saturday. Waaah!
Crankypantsing, Pets, Photography

Instant Review: Harriet Brown Goes a-Visiting

Shelly

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Harriet likes to sit on the corner of the deck and look out over the neighboring fields. She’ll spend hours like that, sitting and watching. I think she may be channeling her namesake, Greta Garbo (Garbo used the name Harriet Brown as a pseudonym). Like Garbo, Harriet often wishes to be left alone.

Harriet had an exciting weekend. We went to visit my family, who live a couple of hours north of me. Harriet is a wonderful travelling companion, so I enjoy taking her places with me. She’s always eager to get into her car harness and settles down quickly in the car. While we’re in stop-and-go traffic, she stands up and presses her nose to the window, so that she can watch what’s going on. Once we’re on the highway, though, she curls up and goes to sleep. I mention this, because I think it’s interesting that the only thing I specifically wanted when I got her was a dog who enjoyed car rides. It’s funny how those sorts of things work out. Her previous owners never took her anywhere in the car, but as long as I’ve had her, she’s been a fabulous travelling companion.

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Gabe playing with Harriet’s ears

She had a great time at my mom’s house. She always enjoys going there, and is nearly as relaxed there as she is at home. She even managed to do some kidney beaning and sassy woo-wooing, which she never does in front of anyone but me. She got to play with my brother’s kids, and got all sorts of attention from my brothers. She also got to eat all sorts of stuff she wouldn’t normally get to eat, and was entertaining in the process–there’s nothing quite like a kitchen full of people feeding green beans to a dog, who thinks they’re some sort of canine crack. I guess they’d never seen a dog eat green beans before. Harriet loves them, though.

This was the first time I’d taken the new car on a road trip. I was well pleased with it! As we reached Indy, the wind picked up, which was, um, exciting. It handled pretty well, though. Even though it’s much bigger and taller than my last car, it’s also much heavier, so it sticks to the road better. There were times in the Festiva when I’d crest a hill, and a strong gust of wind would nearly lift me off the ground. Talk about unsettling! That doesn’t happen in the Tracker. It’s just too damned large and heavy to go kiting. I did get pushed around quite a bit by the gusting wind, but it wasn’t all that bad.

Gas mileage was good, too. Even with all the wind, and running the AC because the windows kept fogging up, I only used a little over half a tank. I forgot to set the tripometer, but I’m guestimating that I used about 8 gallons over 250 miles, which would be around 31mpg–not bad at all for an SUV. Have I mentioned lately that I lovelovelove my Tracker?

Now, for the obligatory randomness:

  • I belong to umpty mail lists, most of them art-related. Artists don’t tend to be the most computer savvy folks on Urth, so I ought to cut them some slack. I draw the line at reading badly formatted messages, though. If there’s HTML coding, or if I have to hunt around to figure out which is new and which is quoted text, or if there is nothing but quoted text, I skip the message. I would think artists, being aesthetically sensitive, would take the time to make their messages look presentable, but apparently that’s not the case.
  • I’ve temporarily put my Netflix subscription on hold. Waaah! I’ll miss having good teevee to watch, but I just can’t justify spending money on it right now.
  • It snowed today. We were supposed to get two inches worth, then sleet and freezing rain, AKA Icy Death from Above[tm]. Welcome to winter in Indiana!
  • Christ died on a spruce tree for your sins. Wait, he didn’t? The use of evergreen trees during the winter holiday season dates back to at least Roman Saturnalia festival. Yeah, the Christians appropriated it, but the tree itself, along with its symbolism, is strictly pagan. So to complain about calling it a “holiday tree” instead of a “Christmas tree” is, I think, a little funny. But then, Mr. Falwell is a funny, funny man. And I don’t mean in the funny-ha-ha sense, either.
  • I don’t know why this should be surprising, but it was. It’s sad but true that all news really is just propaganda. From the administrator who was paid to promote No Child Left Behind, to “astroturf” (the opposite of grass roots) form letters sent to US newspapers, supposedly by local soldiers who supported the war, I think it’s a bad idea to believe anything that comes from or lends support to the current administration.
  • Firefox v.1.5 is out. If you’re using IE, I really recommend downloading Firefox and giving it a whirl. The tabbed browsing (ctrl-T) alone makes it worthwhile, but the lack of pop-ups and the ability to truly control text size (ctrl-mouse wheel up/down) are quite nice, too.
  • The Ebola virus has been traced to bats.

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Sunset Another Day

Clouds were just beginning to creep in from the southwest. They must have thickened overnight, because this morning, it started to spit freezing rain. We were supposed to get two inches of snow, then more freezing rain and sleet, but it was too warm for it to actually stick. It’s still gross and disgusting, though, in a way that only Winter in Indiana can be.

Pets, Photography

Happy Post-Turkey Day

Shelly

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Wednesday Sunset (top) and Friday morning frost (bottom)

It got relatively cold last night, with lows around 12F, so there was a good layer of frost on everything when I got up this morning. And, guess what? I still don’t have a window scraper! I don’t have a winter coat, either, so coming home from Thanksgiving dinner was a little brisk. I usually wear layers, instead of a coat, because I like being able to vary my outer-wear to suit the needs of the day. Indiana weather is so changeable that I always end up being too warm or too cold if I wear a coat. Last night’s freezing cold temperature took me by surprise, though. The weather guy kept saying “It’s gonna get really cold,” but he never got around to saying just how cold before I had to turn off the teevee and leave.

The Orphans’ Thanksgiving dinner was wonderful. D. brought Quorn cutlets, which are now my favorite meat substitute. Oh my, are they good. She put barbecue sauce on them, which I usually can’t stand, but they were so good that I didn’t mind. I brought a left-over one home with me, and they heat up well in the microwave. Often, veggie burgers will get texturally weird when re-nuked, so I was surprised at how well Quorn fared when re-heated.

I took Harriet along with me, which is always a little stressful. She doesn’t get along at all with the resident bitch, and can be tweaky in large groups of people. She did fairly well, though, and even sucked up to one of the guys, which surprised the hell out of me. She’s always been freaked out by strange men. It was wonderful to see her enjoying being around other people. Unfortunately, though, she got a little resource-guardy during dinner, which resulted in a big snark-fest. It wasn’t serious–no injuries–and consisted of a lot of snarling and posturing and no teeth-on-skin, but I think it was a little nerve wracking for the non-dog folks who were present.

Overall, she did pretty well, considering. She’s always going to be tweaked in the head, no matter what is done to desensitize her. She’s just hard-wired wrong.

And, poor dog, her weekend is going to get even more stressful, but in a good way. As always, she’s going with me to visit my family. She likes car rides, and loves visiting my mom and brothers, but no matter how enjoyable it is, it’s still stressful. She also has to have a bath today. She’s very good for baths, even though she can’t stand getting wet. Everyone in my family is allergic to cats and dogs, so I always bathe Harriet with Dr. Bronner’s castile soap the day before we visit, then wipe her down with Allerpet-D right before we leave. It works pretty well.

Now, off to wash the dog and clean out the car. It’s amazing how quickly I can fill a car up with junk. I’ve had it less than two months, and it’s already full of trash.

Photography

Happy Little Clouds

Shelly

When I got up this morning, there was a thin layer of wet snow on the ground. The sky has been grim and the wind has been howling all day. Yuck. Today’s weather really doesn’t warrant close examination, so I thought I’d share some photos I took last week.

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Hole Punch Cloud with Fallstreak, Owen County, Indiana

I took these at around 5pm, as I was leaving to take Rory for his final check-up at the vet. I wish I’d taken my camera with me, as the sun was gorgeous when it finally set. Unfortunately, I left it at home. I got a few good pictures of the pre-setting sun, though, so I can’t complain too much.

I always hate the onset of winter, not because of the cold weather, but because of the short days. Even though the days begin to lengthen when winter officially starts, it doesn’t seem to help. It just takes so damned long for the change to be noticeable. Being on flex time helps. Before I changed my schedule, it was dark when I left for work and dark when I returned home. Now, it’s only dark in the mornings. Having a little more light keeps me from going completely stir crazy.

And, on that note, I’m off to help move around some furniture next door, then cut up bread for tomorrow’s stuffing. Mmmm. I can live without turkey, but Thanksgiving without stuffing is just wrong.

Crankypantsing, Photography

Random Friday

Shelly

But first, the obligatory cat update.

Rory had his week+ check-up last night (surgery was 10 days ago). I spent all day yesterday panicking, because that morning, he peed on the floor. He’s been been very good about using the litter box since he began recovering from the surgery. It was a relatively small amount of urine, and dark, too, so I was worried about him having another infection. In retrospect, that was silly, as he’s on antibiotics, so an infection was very unlikely. That’s the nature of panic, though–t’ain’t rational.

He also has managed to irritate the surgery site. It was inflamed and a little swollen. The vet thinks he may have used the cone to scratch it. I imagine it’s been itching like mad, so I can’t blame him for trying to find some relief. I was sent home with a few extra antibiotic pills and some topical antibiotic salve to put on his incisions, and instructions to take his e-collar off on Saturday. She warned me that he’ll lick himself like crazy when the collar comes off, but that I shouldn’t worry if his bottom gets sore and even bloody. Now, how I’m supposed to keep from worrying is beyond me, but I’ll try.

She also sent us home with a 4lb bag of Hill’s W/D. I’m not happy about having to support the Hill’s company. For one thing, I think the behavior of some of their employees sucks ass[1]. And, though I’m thankful that there are prescription foods available that will–hopefully–allow my cat to live a relatively long and healthy life, my cat isn’t much impressed by the palatability of either of the other Hill’s prescription diets he’s been fed. We’ll see what he thinks of W/D.

I’m also trying to figure out how to feed two different diets to my two cats, while allowing them both the run of the house. I was hopeful that Rory would eat canned food, but he’s not interested in it. I suspect that he associated wet food with being sick. Cats can be weird, that way. I could still do set feeding times, instead of a kibble buffet, but with cats, I find that they’re a pain in the arse. What I’ll probably do is let both cats have the run of the house during the day–sans food–then confine Rory to the bathroom at night. That way, I’ll be able to feed the cats at night and know that they aren’t getting into each other’s food. Water is going to be another headache, as Rory is supposed to have distilled water. At US$1/gallon, it’s too pricey to give to the dog and the cats.

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On a tangential note, the Cat Care Clinic is way out in the country (the vet and her husband also run a horse rescue farm). As I was leaving, the sun was setting. Their farm is up on a hill, and the ridge to the west was like something out of Arizona Highways magazine. I’ve never seen such a perfectly beautiful sunset in my life. And, wouldn’t you know it, I didn’t have my camera with me. That’s okay, though. I think I enjoyed it even more, as I got to just stop and take it in.

Since I didn’t get a picture of the lovely sunset, I’ll post this photo that I took Tuesday. The sunset that day wasn’t much to speak of, because the clouds thickened back up when the next line of storms moved in. We got a brief break, though, which was quite nice.

Here’s a photo taken the same day, by someone in the Evansville area. If I’d seen that, I think I would’ve peed my pants. It was plenty scary enough here, but, thankfully, it was raining so hard that I was unable to see anything until after the worst had passed.

Did Someone Say Random?

  • It is notnotnot okay to drive around in the pitch black without your headlights on. It’s doubly notnotnot okay to do so, then turn them on suddenly when you see someone coming. It’s likely to scare the Jeebus right out of them.
  • I want one of these
  • Still no window scraper, despite the fact that it’s been around 20F the past two mornings, and there has been a thick coating of frost on my car. Perhaps, this weekend, I’ll get around to it.
  • I love that my remote “key” does not make my car beep its horn or flash its headlights or call attention to itself in some other way. I know which car I’m heading to; there’s no need to announce to the entire world which one it is, though. Stealthy is better.
  • I’m not amused that random bits of my mail have been mysteriously returned to sender (including one credit card statement and my car loan statement), nor that three Netflix I returned on Monday ended up back in my mailbox yesterday. Perhaps I should burn hecatombs to the Mail Gods? If so, what would constitute an appropriate sacrifice?
  • Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire comes out today. I am beyond excited. I probably won’t get to see it for a few days, which might kill me.
  • Something smells like fried bread.
  • I have a scar in the middle of my forehead[2], just above the hair line. No matter what I do, I cannot get the hair there to lay properly. It wants to go in the opposite direction. I only mention it, because it’s being particularly annoying today.
  • I hate it when people use my name when talking to me. Yes, I know who I am, you needn’t remind me. I’m distrustful of anyone who does so, because I feel like I’m dealing with a pushy used car salesman.
  • Speaking of dead things. See, that’s what’s wrong with frat boys. And, at my alma mater, no less.
  • I’m craving Babbs’ no bake cookies. Not any old chocolate can substitute, either. It has to be Babbs’ no bake cookies, or nothing at all.
  • Skipping breakfast is a Very Bad Idea.
  • I’d say they’ve got this one the wrong way ’round. If there’s an insult there, it’s to Pit Bulls, in likening them to lawyers.
  • I’ve been watching All Creatures Great and Small. I loved it when it was on PBS in the ’80s, and it’s held up well over time. One thing I didn’t realize, and that surprised the hell out of me, is that in the first three series, many of the medical procedures were done in real time in front of the camera. There were vets on-set who supervised the less complicated parts (e.g. the classic “arm up the cow’s jacksie”). Things like actual surgery were done by the supervising vets. They would hunt around locally for animals suffering from the appropriate conditions, then they’d operate on them. The owners received free medical care for their pets in exchange for letting the procedure be filmed. The BBC picked up the tab for everything. That would never happen nowadays, or even in the ’80s, when series 4-7 were filmed. All of those later episodes contained faked surgeries.
  • I’m searching for the perfect CD wrangling solution for my car. I suspect that piling them on the passenger seat really is not a very good long-term plan.
  • I love grilled tomatoes on top of pizza. I love them, I do, to a degree that is nearly unnatural. I also love fried green tomatoes. And tomato sandwiches. And tomatoes with cottage cheese. Basically, I love tomatoes.
  • Also, I love dill pickles. Not sweet pickles, though. Those are ptoui.

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[1] In particular, two Hill’s employees have made a practice of participating in various pet-oriented Usenet groups, where they have repeatedly shilled for the company without disclosing their employer’s identity. Further, both the people in question have been unspeakably rude while doing so, going so far as to liken those who questioned their motivation or the information they provided to suicide bombers and members of the Taliban. I’m sorry, but that sort of behavior is not what I want to support with my money.

[2] When I was four or five years old, I was scratched by what I insisted was a fox. Looking back, I’m sure it was just a neighborhood cat, and that it had good cause to scratch me. Kids can be, um, inventive, especially when they know they aren’t supposed to be playing dress-up with the neighbor’s cat. I think that probably cured me of trying to put baby clothes on animals, though, so at least I learned something from the experience.

[3] If you haven’t seen Cannibal the Musical, hie thee to your nearest video store.

Photography

Auntie Em, Part Deux

Shelly

Egad. This was a good day to stay home. It poured rain earlier, then on and off throughout the afternoon and evening, we’ve been under various storm and tornado watches and warnings. Basically, it’s hella stormy. The first line of storms went through earlier, and the second line is currently passing over Terre Haute. There were several funnel clouds reported, and at least one tornado has touched down. I believe the tornado was south of us, but it was part of a cell that later passed right over my house. Yikes!

Have I mentioned that storms scare the hell out of me? I spent most of the time glued to the television radar, but when the worst of the storm had passed, I got out my camera and took photos of the sky. There were some lovely cloud formations.
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The full set of photos from the storm is here.

I can hear thunder, and the wind and rain have picked back up, so the next line of storms must be moving in. Time to get off line and shut down!