Raleigh, fully charged

 

This little cat thinks he's died and gone to cat heaven. We generally don't have a big turkey dinner on Thanksgiving, just whenever we're hungry for it.

nAimless' gift

 
I was sitting at my computer, my back to the room, when I heard a THUNK behind me. I turned to look, and saw my cat nAimless (formerly known as Nameless) sitting on the arm of the big chairtrap, staring down into the livingroom's short trash can. Curious, I walked over to see what she was looking at (and what caused that "THUNK," anyway?). In the trashcan was a black bird. I picked it up and it didn't react. I took it to the front porch, laid it on the porch rail and it just lay there. I thought, "it has a broken neck," and picked it up again, not sure what I wanted to do, but not wanting the cats to torture it either. th'Mr opined its neck was not broken; the bird was in shock. So I carried it back through the house, to the back porch. I got the empty hanging planter I'd used before --from here on known as the bird recovery room-- and pulled some dry grass to put in it. By this time the bird was hanging on to my shirt with one talon. When I got bird and recovery room to the recovery tree I tipped bird toward the basket, let go of bird, bird hopped into basket, I hung basket in tree and I walked away. Not five minutes later bird was gone.

Roadie & nAimless

 
April 15, afternoon:



April 15, morning (it's chilly, and Roadie's under the covers):

It's started

 
Something woke me. Some noise, I come instantly awake, worried about "my babies," my hair standing on end.

I get a housecoat and flashlight, walk through, counting heads. th'Mr in bed beside me, breathing well. Two cats in bed with us, Raleigh & Nameless. Booger in the living room, Klutz asleep in a chair, the dog Grrrl asleep in another, Shorty on the dog bed. In the kitchen, Sapphire on the table over the heater. Back into the living room; Winston asleep on the laptop case. That's all but Roadie (as usual). Sweep the flashlight under the bed. th'Mr stirs, says, "what time is it?"

"Quarter to four," I answer.

I lay back down. Five minutes later, realizing I'm indeed wide awake I get up, go in the kitchen, heat a mug of milk with almond extract. Tense, I spill a little too much almond into the milk. To the computer, check mail, check facebook.

Drink my milk, start a game of mahjong.

The noise! Again! The flashlight in the chair with me, in my hand, I follow the noise. Booger, shoulders hunched, heads to the stoveroom. I follow. He's under a table. I say his name. He stops. I reach for the noise, grab the baby bird.

It tries to bite me. I talk to it, take it quickly outside. There's a hanging basket, empty. Bird into basket, basket into fragile tree limbs. Maybe I'll be lucky. Sometimes when I check, they're gone. Other times they die in the basket.




Back in the house, muddy feet, Booger sulks, still under the table. I pet him, praise him for letting me have the bird, for there being no visible damage.

It's started. I love Spring, but not this part.

Winston

Winston, sitting on the wall. He has a doctor appointment tomorrow afternoon.



His nose has been running a lot and he feels skinny to me (have to remember to buy batteries for the scale soon), and it looks like he's losing a lot of hair. The doctor will probably give him an antibiotic shot, some vitamins, and maybe antibiotics to mix in his food. He's feline leukemia-positive. Today he was pretty frisky and had a good appetite; that's always good to see.



This is me taking a picture of me.

Winter, again!

It snowed all day yesterday.

Gestern früh war schon wieder Schnee, hat auch den ganzen Tagelang geschneit.





When the thistle-seed feeders are full, the Pine Siskins (a variety of finch) are almost as territorial as hummingbirds. On the far right in both photos one is hanging from an icicle, waiting his turn.

Die Futter-stellen hab ich wieder aufgefüllt, und die Finke schwarmen. Das Vögelchen rechts hängt von einer Eiszapfe.





Roadie is healing, but slowly. He still won't let me near him. Maybe he thinks I don't know what I'm doing.

Roadie magt mit mir im Moment nichts zu tun. Sein Kiefer geht es langsam besser.

Progress

Here's some of what I knit while sitting in hospital waiting rooms this past couple of days. This is what I finished. Not pictured are Valpuri and Penrose, neither of which is done. The small heart I knit Friday. The cat I started at home and finished at the hosp; the large heart I knit at the hospital. The socks I finished at the hospital. They were done but for one cuff and the weaving in.





Roadie looks better. It's amazing how fast they heal. All his hair fell out around the infected area, though. He hasn't let me look at the spot on his flank. Probably afraid I'll put neosporin on it and make the hair fall out.

lint, cat, time

Some people think manually de-fuzzing a wool garment is equivalent to an hour in hell. Others find picking and cutting off each lint pill is meditative. I'm in the latter camp.

I like details. Paying attention to them, that is.

Since I'm no good at darning, this morning I patched a sock. Couldn't find any more of the green yarn, so this patch is blue. After I patched, I picked lint pills. Except for the fact there's a blue patch on a green sock, don't they look brand new?

I should have posted a "before" picture. Hindsight, as always.

The socks, after patching and pilling:

*****************

Chains of thought have always fascinated me. Like, five minutes ago I was thinking about one thing, and now I'm thinking about something else. How did I get from the one to the other? It's fun to try and unravel the chain.

Chains of events are pretty cool, too:

On Ravelry in your profile there's a space to enter your birthday, if you want to. I did. As a result I now know several Ravelers whose birthays are the same as mine. One of them sent me a Valentine's greeting yesterday. This caused me to go look at her profile again, and since she had linked her blog to her Rav profile, I saw the titles of her last few blog entries. One piqued my interest, I followed the link, I read the entry, saw (in the entry) a link to a pattern that interested me, followed that link to Knitty.com, and decided to knit the pattern.

The pattern was a heart.

I spent all day yesterday knitting this heart, appropriately on Valentine's Day. Well, I didn't spend exactly all day, but I did cast on yesterday, off and on throughout the day I picked up the needles and continued on with it, and eventually, last night, I finished it and presented it to th'Mr.

He briefly considered giving it to his cardiologist, but decided to keep it for himself. I think. At least that's where it stands right now. :)

The heart, unfolded:



The heart, folded, front and back:



*****************

I've been neglecting my blog these past couple of weeks, especially in the photo department. I think I have rooted out the cause of this neglect:

I join lists, groups, knit-alongs. If I'm invited I join. If I see something that interests me, I join. If someone I like belongs, I join. I post a few items, add my sigfile, I get responses and email and people come look at my blog and make comments, people look me up on Ravelry and send messages, I feel happy and popular and noticed, and then...

Then I run out of time. I try to read all the list posts, try to follow all the links, and I get overwhelmed. I switch from "individual emails" to "digest" and still I fall farther behind. Suddenly I don't have time to write interesting things people will respond to.

I really don't know how to deal with this. I want to belong and participate. I also want a life away from the computer. I'd hate for the nice people I've met to think I've wandered away because I'm not interested, when it's really the opposite that's true: I'm too interested, in too much!

*****************

Roadie, my little alien, isn't feeling well. I noticed a scab on his side, and his side seems tender. Then I noticed a little scab under his jawline. He's spent the last couple days sleeping a lot. Last night I noticed the side of his face is swelling. This morning it was more swollen.

He doesn't like to be handled; he's really a feral cat. Normally we don't even see him when the weather is moderate. In the winter he comes in and decides to be a house cat for a while, but even then he acts spooky, like he's afraid we'll eat him (or something).

Last night he slept with us. At times his loud purring actually woke me up. I know purring is sometimes a sign of severe pain or distress. This really bothers me, one of the animals hurting. Today is Sunday and the vet isn't open.

This morning when I came to the computer, in a little while he came in and lay down on my monitor. I decided to try and clean up his jaw. Got a hot damp washcloth and pressed. Immediately the pus started flowing.

He didn't put up with it for long; once he got away from me he stayed away. An hour or so later I saw him sleeping on the bed again. I prepared a couple washcloths and some neosporin. Picked him up and carried him into the bathroom, shut the door. Applied hot damp cloth, switched to clean hot damp cloth while the first one rinsed, did this a few times. Finished up with a dab of neosporin. Put him back on the bed (he promptly went under the bed).

I don't know if that helps, but it can't hurt. At least I'm getting some of the pus out.I sure wonder what caused that. A fight, sure, but with what? Owl? Hawk? Possum? Racoon? Squirrel? Another cat?

Roadie ten days ago:



Roadie today:

Roadie

Funny, he doesn't look feral. He looks cuteness.

Stuff on my cats' minds

Winston wants a turkey.



Raleigh wants lots of turkeys.

Which 'Frog' you talkin' about?

Stuff on my cat.
Same stuff on my other cat.
Times five seven.

Nameless is her name, and she knows it.





Booger.




Klutz.




Sapphire.




Raleigh.




Shorty.




Roadie, the freaky one, about to freak.