Should I call this pointless cat photo?

Or are you getting tired of that?

I have to admit that I do appreciate the few seconds it saves me, not having to think of a post title. Of course, I've been blogging long enough that I can remember when posts didn't even have titles unless you specifically hand-coded a field for them.

I sort of miss hand-coding sometimes.

Sort of.

And only sometimes.

Oh, just go back and look at the kitten already.

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So, shall we talk about rocks today? We haven't talked about rocks for a while. I am, as usual, wearing a rock to work today. You may remember that I like wearing rocks.

The rock I'm wearing today is in a cage. It's the one on the left in this picture, and it's bugging the heck out of me that I can't remember what it's called. I'm usually more careful about that, since my olf brain has a pretty serious need to know the names of things. I've been like that for most of my life, to be honest. You couldn't go for a hike with me as a child (well, not a happy hike, at any rate) unless I had a plant field guide with me... or unless you could tell me the name of anything that caught my eye. If you couldn't, or if I didn't have a book that I could try to look things up in, well hellooo whiny kid.

I tend to call that side of myself my latent librarian, in case you wondered. I seem to have a basic need to catalogue.

Anyway, today's rock is currently nameless, but it's green with white banding and I'll try to look it up later if I have time. Until then, maybe I'll just call it George.

I can't believe that I actually forgot the name of the rock. It's so completely out of character.

The other caged rock is a blue tiger's eye, and you can see what it looks like worn in the photo to the left. Ok, so I don't normally wear it at a tilt. I was holding the camera so I was a little slanted. Give me a break.

These rock cage jewellery findings are great for someone like me who enjoys wearing interesting rocks but is too cheap to have them made into jewellery doesn't know anyone with a rock drill to make holes so that she can make them into actual jewellery. The other cool thing with these spring cages is that if you have small enough rocks that you don't stretch the spring you can interchange them whenever you want. I have three cages at the moment: the round one that you see above, the smaller oval one that the tiger's eye is currently in... and a round one that I accidentally put too big a rock into and stretched the spring.

Ah well. That particular rock has a permanent cage home, I guess.

Anyway, you can tell by now that I didn't really have a topic today. That is, after all, when we usually head to what weird thing is Dee wearing to work today? Everybody needs a default, right?

Oh, and word of warning: my favourite rock shop has its annual fall sale coming in a couple of weeks. And that means more rocks. And that means more rock posts.



And maybe I'll remember to check what the name of the pretty green rock was while I'm there. One less source of obsessive anxiety, after all...

Pointless cat photo of the day:

Not really in the mood to post, but you haven't a had a kitten shot in a few days so there you go.

I sure hope that they don't grow into that bed....

Well, crud

I'm not sure that Tom's figured out how tents work. And I'm not sure that Bob's figured out that electrical cords aren't toys. I hope he gets that one soon.

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Now, on to the well, crud portion of our show. It's almost the end of September. I really thought I'd make it this time. Things were looking good, really. But then, of course, it happens.

I got the September cold.

Dammit.

I did a program this morning on the edge of having no voice (kind of sucky when you use your voice for your living). It's a bit better now because it's been lubricated by lunch, but I'd wager that there won't be much of it by the time I go home today.

I felt it coming on yesterday, but at first I thought I was just feeling a bit off. Even bought ingredients to make a lemon loaf for the staff meeting today. As I was making supper, though, I realised that I wasn't just feeling off; I was starting to feel sick.

Dammit.

I thought I'd missed it, too. Several people in the office have already had it, and since I'm usually amongst the first I thought that maybe -- just maybe -- I'd skip this one.

Dammit.



Ah well, no doubt you'll hear more whinging about this as it goes on. For now, though, just enjoy Turkey One's version of camping a little bit more.

Various things... oh, and a pointless cat photo

Bet that's a surprise.

Immediately after I took this shot he started chewing the coat, of course.

I think I got fully initiated into the cat family yesterday. Dad was away for a bit, and the Turkey Brothers were entertaining themselves. Like most kittens, these two have two gears: GO!!! and full stop. Well, when Tom reached the wall and retreated to his bed (oh, you'll see the bed. Don't worry), Bob wasn't quite done and came over to me to futz around the recliner I was sitting in.

Bob futzing around a chair is a lot more polite than Tom futzing around a chair, by the way. Bob doesn't tend to try to nibble on your face.

Anyway, he fiddled around for a while and then realised that he was tired too... and curled up in my lap. For two hours. It would have been even more, but eventually even I have to get out of a chair and do something so I moved him to the bed with his brother.

Being a Bob bed means that I fit in, right?

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On another topic, I need a haircut.

Yes, already.

See? This is what happens when I actually try to have a hairstyle. It's fine for a couple of weeks, but my hair grows so frustratingly fast that by the third week I'm looking at it and realising that I need to make the choice of haircut or growing it out again.

Growing it out again usually wins. Who wants to pay for a haircut every three weeks?

The problem is that I really kind of liked the cut this time. She razored the layers instead of scissoring them, so it has (had) a different, slightly shaggier feel. It framed my face pretty well, too. In fact, I liked it enough that except for one day I've been wearing it loose to work. I'm generally lucky to make it two days without tying it back in some way, so that's big.

By the way, if you don't believe me about my talent for speed hair let me just say this. When it was cut I was incapable of making a pony tail. Now? No problem. It's a short pony tail, yes, but I tried it out of curiosity the other day and everything stayed in the elastic. Really.

Sigh. I didn't want to be needing a haircut so soon, and even worse, I didn't want to be wanting a haircut.

Stupid haircut. Why did you have to be good?

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One last thing, because it wouldn't be me if I didn't end on an annoyance. Always. You know, the menstrual supply brand. Do they hire advertising firms that consider women to be puerile little children on purpose? For years we had to put up with the insultingly cute have a happy period. It's ok, little girl. We don't care if you're cranky and bloated, this magic pad will make everything sunshine and rainbows! And now, as anyone who (still) watches television will know, they've gone into the bladder leakage market. And their slogan? Because, hey! Pee happens.

Seriously? I have no words.

At least tell me that these stupid things were written by men. If it was a bunch of women who decided that the above were both good ideas, they need to be taken out of their boardroom and reminded that the average woman in the actual world understands when she's talked to as an adult.

And if I find myself in the need, I'll be going for Poise (lesser of two evils, really). Because, hey! Sometimes an insulting ad campaign hurts your bottom line.

And speaking of bottoms, I'm going to stop typing now before I get into those bloody Charmin bears who apparently wipe ABOVE their tails. Ugh. Enjoy the go?

I have no words.

Pointless cat photo of the day:

This is still from the old photo set. No doubt I'll have new ones for tomorrow.

So, an update on the Turkey Brothers. Tom (who I find myself calling Max, partly from the coat pattern similarity and partly because I'm still convinced he's going to be the big suck) is definitely the leader of the gang, and is more forward with both toys and greeting people. He's learned to squeak at you if he wants to be picked up, and if you don't pay attention fast enough he just climbs you. He, um, tried that when I was still in my nightshirt this morning. Yeah, that didn't work so well for him.

Bob may be the more subtle of the two, but he certainly keeps up. He's got a very expressive-looking face. I say expressive-looking because that's completely anthropomorphising the whole cat expression thing, but I have a feeling he'll be getting a lot of aaahs when I show people his pictures.

They're both people cats so far, and I hope they stay that way. I always laugh when I hear that cats aren't social. It's obvious to me that people who say that have never actually been with a cat for more than five minutes. These guys seek people out. They have a habit of waiting at the door when you go to the bathroom. Tom is fascinated by my hair (unfortunately), and Bob is fascinated by fuzzy socks. That, too, is unfortunate if your feet happen to be in said socks...

They're not normally allowed in the bedrooms, which of course means that as soon as a bedroom door opens they're in heaven. Beds are just too much fun, and dressers are a pretty close second. When I got up to use the washroom this morning I was greeted after by two cats, who then ran down the hall to my open door and spent the next hour and a half (I got up a bit too early, so I just went back to the bedroom) using the whole place as a jungle gym. That's interesting in the dark. Let's just say it was a lot of what the hell are you in to now? Hard to tell just by sound sometimes.

Tom likes to climb up you if you're sitting on the sofa or something like that, and he gets this look in his eye that pretty much says I'm coming and you can't do anything about it. And you can't. For the most part he's good as he prowls around you, but I wouldn't mind breaking him of the habit of sticking his nose in my ear. That's a little weird.

Turkey One and Turkey Two had their first experience with the vacuum this morning. That went over reeeally well, as you can imagine. Tom showed up on Dad's bed looking terrified, so I picked him up for a while and that was ok. Bob? I have no idea what he did. We couldn't even find him. About five minutes later he showed up under Dad's dresser. I'm not sure how, because we'd only just checked the dresser. Maybe he can teleport? Anyway, that's one huge reason why they're not allowed downstairs yet. If they got down here with all the hiding places, who knows when they'd be found? Plus, while we know that they can make it down stairs (the door's accidentally been left open once or twice), I have no idea whether they can make it up again.

So there you have it. As I said, no doubt some new photos in the next day or two. They've certainly made themselves at home, and they look like they're enjoying themselves.

Plus, kittens. Who on the internet doesn't like kittens, right?

Pointless cat photo of the day:

Dressers are fun.

These shots have been from two weeks ago. I'll be seeing them tonight. I imagine that at the rate that kittens grow, they'll have a little trouble fitting in that narrow space under my dresser now.

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Another short workday post, but I do have a couple of things to say. First, to the follower tools who waited in line for a day for an iphone whatever (yes, I know what it is, but if you only knew the depths of my uncaring...), jeeeeesus. Really? We haven't got over this crap yet? And I'm certainly not going to apologise for calling you follower tools. You're followers, and you're tools. Well, I suppose I am sorry -- that you're follower tools. The world certainly doesn't need more follower tools. Especially ones who will line up for a phone.

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Now to something more serious. I was pleasantly surprised by the results of the Scottish referendum. That makes it sound like I was against Scottish independence, but I really don't have a horse in the race. I can't even claim Scottish heritage, unless you go way back into antiquity when the tiny fraction of my ancestry that's Irish was probably going back and forth trading, invading, and most likely procreating. What I don't really get is the idea of nationalism coming before economic stability.

I mean, yeah, sure, be proud -- within reason -- of where you were born. I'm happy to have been born in Canada. I'm happy to be Canadian. But the reality is, if I'd been born in Scotland I'd be happy to be Scottish. If I'd been born in Croatia I'd be happy to be Croatian. None of us have any control of where we were born, and putting pride of accidental place over the fact that the (Western, at least) world is moving towards less trade barriers and trying its damnedest to avoid another financial collapse just makes me think that you're not really considering things.

Quebec has thought about separating (and by the way, big hearty boos to those PQ members who thought it would be a great idea to take advantage of the Scottish referendum and show up there, say a bunch of stupid things, and start planning their next attempt). Texas talks about separating. Heck, even here in Alberta we have separatists. None of it would be of ANY advantage to any of us. Nous vivons ensemble, if you want to put it a bit more romantically. Which I honestly don't, actually. Romance shouldn't have anything to do with it at this point in our history.

Sigh. So much for a short post. Back to work, then. And if you want to hear rather than read Gordon Lightfoot, try this link.

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Edited to add: arrrr. Sorry I fergot, me scurvy mates. Hope ya be havin' a fine Talk Like a Pirate Day.

Pointless non-cat photo of the day:

I forgot my nerdstick at home. This is a random shot from work.

That's right, I work in a tree.

Actually, this morning I was working at a pond. Pond studies in the fall aren't my favourite, but it was a good group of kids and they found enough for it it be interesting.

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I'm kind of busy so this will have to be short, but I had to mention that our new Premier has just announced that he's killing the move to a new licence plate. Apparently Albertans didn't want one. Personally, I didn't want one designed by Americans and featuring mountains (do you know how much of Alberta has mountains? Not as much as you'd think if you were judging from our tourism advertising), but I wouldn't mind if they'd change the print colour on the existing plate. That orange is just too hard to read from any sort of distance.

And, of course, it's the PC colours. They're not going anywhere soon, I suppose.

Anyway, that's it for today. Probably more kittens tomorrow.



Because the internet needs more kittens.

Pointless cat photo of the day:

Bedclothes are fun.

Apparently the kittens have now started following Dad around, and meeting him at the door when he's been away. That's cool.

Of course, it probably doesn't hurt anything that he gives them a little bit of soft food each time he gets back...



Unfortunately, you're going to have to live with continued pictures from last weekend because it looks like I'll be working tomorrow. No new cat stories from me unless I hear them from home.



Ah well, what can you do? Go back to work, actually. Type at you later.

Pointless cat photo of the day:

Either an extra-small cat or an extra-big ball.

A little of both, actually.

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Random thought: have you ever noticed how arbitrary our breakfast food choices are, and how quickly someone will think it odd if you make a slight change to them? For example, this morning I had toast with cheese for breakfast (and a little bit of accidental sriracha. Long story). If I'd have added another piece of bread and changed the cooking method somewhat I would have had a grilled cheese sandwich for breakfast. You would have found that weird.

Another example. If I have a sausage patty with an egg on an English muffin, that's a breakfast sandwich. Well, it's an Egg McMuffin, I suppose, but I have one of these little gizmos that lets you do it at home. They work decently, and you can easily find them for cheaper than the list price. Um, anyway. What if I had decided to have a leftover hamburger instead? Ground meat, bun, not much different from the breakfast sandwich, but a lot of you would find it weird.

I have to admit, I'm not a huge fan of traditional breakfast foods. Oh, I'll do toast-and-whatever regularly enough and I always try to have something to eat, but the breakfast industry hasn't exactly won me over. I generally have a box of cereal on hand, true, but I also generally end up throwing out half a box of cereal when it hits its due date.

I'm not sure why. Cereal's ok. It just doesn't turn my crank in the morning, for some reason.

Personally, I kind of like leftovers for breakfast. Something that I can heat up quickly. Something that generally is fairly well-balanced, as long as I'm cooking decent meals. Something that's not breakfast-y.

And yes, when I'm in at my dad's and we've done the junk food thing -- as we do now and then -- I've been known to have leftover pizza or chicken for breakfast. Nothing wrong with that, I figure, if it's not your daily diet.

Maybe I should be doing breakfast wraps? I have tortillas on hand, after all. I've been doing wraps for lunch this week. I could just as easily scramble an egg for breakfast. Egg, cheese, a little bacon... yeah, maybe I should get off my butt and do that every once and a while.



Maybe with a little less sriracha, though.





Long story.

Pointless cat photo of the day:

It was kind of hard to fold them, though...

A bit more about the brothers

Otherwise known as Turkey One and Turkey Two, Hey Dudes, or the Shit (as in little) Brothers.

Um, for those new to the program, I'm not always that good at referring to animals by the names they've been given. These two actually seem to be learning their names already, though, so I'm trying my best to stick with Tom and Bob.

For those who didn't catch on yesterday, that's Tomcat and Bobcat. I'm not sure whether Dad was thinking of the wild animal or the machinery for that second one. Let's go with the animal.

Turkey One appears to be ahead in the match in this photo, if anyone wondered.

Tom, as I said last night, is the more forward of the two, and so far he's the happier one to be held. He has one of the loudest purrs that I've ever heard in a kitten. Loud enough to be surprising. Oh, and I've finally heard him speak. I held him for a little this morning, and I guess he thought that I'd put him down too soon because I suddenly got kitten squeak. So I picked him up again. Purr. Yeah, I'm a sap.

Bob can hold his own in the wrestling, and unfortunately proved last night that he thinks I'm a tree. I got climbed pretty well, as a picture of my leg would show.

Don't worry. You won't be seeing a picture of my leg. Did I mention that I'm allergic to cats? Doesn't keep me away, but it makes things interesting.

Bob's going to be the talker, I think. He's fairly quick to let you know he's around, he's lonely, or he's unhappy. I'll be curious to see what kind of voice he develops.

We lucked out with the new toys, it seems, because all three were hits. Two are wand-style toys so they won't be playing with them unsupervised, but it's neat to see what they're making of the Turbo Track. It's in a figure eight right now, but since you can change it up we'll probably mess with their heads a bit to see if they can figure different shapes out. They like batting the ball, but they also like trying to bat each other through the little tunnel.

They like batting each other period. Brothers, right?

Anyway, I'll keep it short because I have cats to play with. You'll be hearing enough about them over the next few days to be sick of them anyway, I figure.

And now, the moment some of you have been waiting for...

Allow me to introduce Bob and Tom (from left to right). The jeans belong to my father's leg, and the blanket... some sports team, I guess. I dunno. I follow the Oilers. There hasn't been actual sports in that arena for years now...

And yes, I'm just pulling someone's leg a little.

Bob and Tom are brothers, but I have a sneaking suspicion that mom may have fooled around a bit. I don't know what gives me that feeling, but there you go. Tom was apparently the largest of the litter, and he acts it. He's more outgoing, and is pretty good at coming out on top in wrestling matches. I also haven't heard him talk at all. Dad says that he can, but I guess he doesn't feel that he has to. Not so with Bob. Bob's a squeaker if there ever was one. And he's not all that great at the independent thing compared to his brother. When he realises that he's alone, you hear about it. The funniest was when he was alone in the litter box (they're small enough that they generally share) and started complaining. It was funny because all he had to do was walk over to the other room for some company.

I suppose he hadn't thought about that.

We spent the afternoon shopping for a couple of cat toys -- there's a bit of a dearth of pet toys in this town, so we had to try a few stores -- and that plus some of the old cat toys are making the place look nicely like the home of pets again.

Or babies. There's not a whole lot of difference in the look of clutter.

Anyway, it's late and I don't want to make this lengthy. Best deal out my new material in small hands, I figure. Now you've seen them, though, and you'll never see them again.





Anyone actually believe that? Silly people. You'll probably be seeing them every post for the next month. After all, kittens, right? They belong on the internet.

Good night, all.

Pointless photo of the whatever it is by now:

Yeah, fall's definitely headed our way. They're actually saying chance of snow a couple of times next week.

That's what I said.

I'll try to have an actual post for you tomorrow.