Catnip pose of the day:

Yeah, so catnip's good...

----------

I think that'll be it today, folks. I'd planned more, but I'm having one of those days where I woke up with a headache and I don't really feel like putting together coherent sentences.

Waking up with a headache, by the way, is one of my least favourite things. I mean, I know that it's not exactly anyone's wish to ever have a headache, but to my mind waking up with a headache before you've even done something to deserve it is just a huge, huge, cheat. Thanks a lot, brain. After all, all I did for you was let you sleep. That's what I'm being punished for?

Um, yeah. My brain and I (which, of course, is still my brain) tend to have arguments. That's how I can live alone, you see. I've already got company.

Little known fact about me (unless I've told you, that is): You can usually tell if I have a headache by looking at my forehead. I have a muscle over my left eye that contracts, so there's a slight bulge there. For anyone who knows that, they can tell right away that I'm not faking it. I was asked once if the muscle spasm causes headaches, and I really don't know. I should have it checked, I guess. It might be an actual medical case for botox or something.

On another note (and this is rapidly turning into a post whether I meant it to or not), I should have taken a picture of my hand this morning since I'm noticing as I type that it sort of shows the state of my life at the moment. Rolling ring because I put it on to go to work (I don't usually bother with jewellery on days that I'm going in to Dad's since I don't generally wear it all weekend. Sort of slipped my mind on Friday, though) and I almost always have it on to play with at work (yay fidgeting), new swanish-thingy pinkie ring because I'm a sucker for that sort of thing, and... kitten scratch. Not a bad one or anything, but it certainly looks like a what did you do this weekend, Dee?



Aaanyway, I think I'll leave off for now. And leave earlier than I usually do to beat some weather on the way home. Nothing serious -- it'd just be nice to miss the wind and the rain, what with the stupid headache and all.

Catch you in a couple of days, probably.

Short post of randomness

As usual, I've wasted most of the morning catching up on mindless internet stuff I didn't get to during the week. And then, when I went upstairs briefly for something, Squeak McCuddleme had woken up and had some demands. Have I mentioned that if you don't pick up Tom right away when he wants to be held that he'll just climb up on his own? So yeah, I had to include a bit of quality cat time there.

That's a big sacrifice, you know. They're cute when they're not destroying things. I just wish that he could figure out that Allergy Annie here doesn't appreciate a cat nose all over her face.

Some of my two fans might be wondering by now how someone with cat allergies has managed to be with cats most of her life.

Simple.

Drugs.

I should explain that a bit more. When I was a kid I was on an inhaled steroid for various allergies, including the cat one. Later on as an adult when I decided to drop the steroid, I just started using otc antihistamines when it was necessary. Not exactly the best move since many antihistamines and I don't get along very well, but I eventually found one that works without a lot of side effects, and there you have it.

Me, the cat cuddler.

----------

I wanted to make sure I said a huge thank-you on behalf of those of us who have sense to the people of Cold Lake who helped clean up a mosque that some pseudobrained idiot thought it would be fun to spray paint. Well, done, and way to show (without just talking about it) that one sub-moronic jackass doesn't reflect the values of your community. Or this country, for that matter. I wish that there were more people out there like you who would actively do something about a problem.

--------

That's it, actually. I did say short post. Tomorrow, probably more cat things, especially since Dad just gave them their first catnip and I apparently need to go up and see the results.


Sorry, no apparently about that. I neeeeed to go up and see the results. Later, everyone.

Late post because rocks!

Yes, my favourite rock shop was having its annual fall sale so of course I had to stop on my way to Dad's place. I should explain for anyone new to the program that I like to wear rocks. I'm not a huge fanatic about them and I'm also not one of those who believes that they have powers, but they're fun. I don't wear them everywhere, though. Mostly to work, because the kids (and sometimes the big kids) find them interesting. It's a good way to lead into other facets (Ha! Facets! See what I did there?) of geology. Sneaky, huh.

This sale, by the way, is borderline huge. They take over most of a small mall, with tables all down the hallways. They also take over any unused retail space. There are lots of rocks. Lots and lots of rocks. And it's fairly hard not to spend lots and lots of money.

Before I get into this year's haul, a couple of notes. The picture's background is, as usual, my piano. The rubbed-off area on the right is where everyone keeps grabbing it as they come in the door. And the white flecks just tick me off. They were left by some ceiling painters who had no bloody idea how to cover furniture. They also managed to take some antique music off of a music stand, put it on the piano, and then glop a whole bunch of paint on it. The stuff would have been better off left on the stand. I wasn't thrilled.

Note number two is that while I was at the sale I remembered to check the name of the forgotten green and white rock from this post. It made me laugh when I saw it. Chrysotile. Otherwise known as asbestos, and I should have remembered that. Don't worry -- it's perfectly safe when it's in massive form. Kind of attractive, too. I just wouldn't want to be the one polishing it.

Ok, on to the new stuff. Above you'll see two pairs of earrings (lapis on the left, amethyst on the right), mostly because I can't remember the last time I bought earrings and these were cheap. Cheapness rates high for me, as my two fans know. At the bottom, a snake chain that I picked up way cheaper (yay) than I would have at the store where I got no service (for those who don't remember, try this post. For those who do remember... why?). In the centre, a little pinkie ring that I thought was kind of cute. It's a bird of some sort. It looks kind of like a swan, but knowing this store and its occasionally... shall we say overly spiritual... customers it's probably supposed to be a phoenix or something. I'm going with swan, personally.

Now for the rocks. Going clockwise, the white one is dendritic opal (actually more of an agate. And the dendritic part just means branching like a tree). Then we have (well, I have) a piece of jade, which, yes, I'll be wearing in a cage like the rocks in the first linked post above. If I didn't cage them they might fly away, you know. Next is chevron amethyst (sorry for the slight weirdness of the link. It can be hard to find mineral/crystal links that don't go all chakra on you. And chevron amethyst is technically quartz mixed with quartz, since amethyst is a form of quartz) with a little piece of garnet, and finally a small ammonite that's been left with some of the matrix surrounding it and then polished. I don't buy a lot of fossils since it kind of bothers me when they're used for jewellery instead of science, but ammonites are pretty common and undeniably interesting-looking.

That's more than I intended to buy, really, but it should keep the cravings down for quite a while.

Since I'm going to end on somewhat of a sad note, let's have some kittens.

Ok, they're really here because I had the camera out for the rocks and I didn't have any recent shots of the boys. There will likely be more in a day or two.

A quick update on the turkey brothers, then. Tom has put on a growth spurt and is starting to look like he might be the long, lanky type. Bob so far is looking more solid, but that can change as he gets bigger. They're both still cute as anything when they're tired, and little shits very busy and actively in trouble when they're not. I imagine that I'll have more to say about them as the weekend goes on, because of course the internet needs more cat stories.

--------

Ok, the last thing. I see that there's been another school shooting in the States today. Very sad, and very sad that it's so predictable. Part of the reason we in Canada are pretty freaked out about the Parliament Hill shootings (other than the big, giant, shocking fact that we could have had government members killed as easily as Cpl. Cirillo) is that we don't have the gun culture to expect that someone's likely to run up and shoot an unarmed honour guardsmen in the back. In the US they likely would have been upset about such a shooting, but I expect that they would move on pretty quickly to demanding that every single person in the area should be armed anyway.

Canada? Please let's not go there, ok? I don't ever want to have to live like that.



And I don't really want to end a post like that so... um... go back and look at the pretty rocks or something. See you later.

So now what? Oh, that sounds more final than I meant.

The what is more cat, it appears.

I just wasn't in the mood for my other photos, that's all.

----------

Ok what I really meant by the post title is what do I blather about, not what about life or anything like that. Yesterday has me down, obviously, but what do I do with it? Do I go on a rant about radicalism, or the complete and utter pointlessness of some types of belief? Do I complain about the lack of class some local tweeters showed yesterday by ignoring the fact that much of the country was in shock and instead tweeting inanities about hoping that they'd win a prize at the local Chamber of Commerce's banquet? That's not even mentioning the local radio stations (who are all supposed to have Les Nessmans, aren't they?) who chose to forget the news and instead spent the afternoon tweeting about which oldie mouldie they were planning to play next.

Twitter both enthralled and frustrated me yesterday, as I think you can tell.

Or should I instead type about how corn nuts are evil because if they are anywhere in the vicinity of my desk they will be devoured, even if I've just eaten lunch?



I'm kind of leaning towards the corn nuts, to be honest. Or telling you that the apple I had with lunch was big enough to be three apples. 

To put it another way, I don't want to go on a rant, and I don't want this to be a current events or politics blog. I also don't want to be angry. I'm sad, not angry. Angry and scared just gives those misguided/brainwashed/unstable/idiotic shooters (or those who choose to run over people with cars, don't forget)  too much validation. If it were possible -- which it isn't -- the best thing would be to never even release their names. No recognition; no glory. And no fear. No fear would give them no point.

It's not possible, unfortunately, and so to keep from compounding things (at least in my own mind), I'm going to choose pointless over relevant.





Um, tomorrow, that is. Today I have to stop typing and do work things.

Enjoy the Bob.



And corn nuts, if you're into that.

Sometimes humans just suck

This will be quick because the shootings in Ottawa don't exactly put me in the mood to blather, let alone pointlessly. There was one thing mentioned in the news, though, that I think it's important to pass on.

For those of you on social media like twitter or facebook, if you ever find yourselves in this kind of situation (and here's genuinely hoping that you never do), it's really, really important not to tweet or post locations of police officers or tactical teams. Criminals may be monitoring feeds, and I don't think that anyone would ever want a simple tweet to endanger anyone.

Stay well, everyone. Let's end with kittens on cardboard. No reason, except that this day is already too depressing. The blog doesn't need to make it more that way.

Pointless something whatever of the day:

Yeah, I'm that tired.

If you'd called me at 2 am (which would have been a neat trick since my phone wasn't on) you would have found me reading Wuthering Heights. And again at 3 am.

I don't even like Wuthering Heights. I was trying to bore myself to sleep.

By 4 am I just gave up and watched my Craig Ferguson recording. Sort of. I stared vaguely into space and the recording played.

To top it all off, we had a notice to be out of the parking lot by 8 am today for maintenance, whatever that means. Probably just leaf sweeping since I don't think that there are any lines that need painting. Either way, it means the inconvenience of fighting three buildings' worth of cars from the apartment complex trying to find space to park on the street, or leaving an hour earlier than I normally do.

So I left the apartment at 7:45...



Sigh. You have basically two choices when you have to leave an hour early if you're me. You can either wander around one of the early-opening grocery stores pretending that you have an hour's worth of shopping to do, or you can go to a fast food place and pretend that you have an hour's worth of sitting to do while you dawdle over some variety of egg sandwich. I didn't manage that part so well today, to be honest. Between the homeless people and the retirees, the place was packed. I only lasted about twenty minutes before I just had to get out of the noise.

And sit in my car.



Yes, seriously. It was a fantastic morning.

Ah well, enough whining for today. And hopefully some sleep tonight. At the moment I'm just considering it an absolute triumph that I managed to NOT get my fruit salad mixed up with my hummus at lunch. And that I remembered to put on pants before I left the apartment.

Pants. Always a good thing.





I think that I'll stop typing now, if that's ok with everyone.

Something fairly disgusting, and then tea

You know, even with the idiot-proof text editors that blogging sites have now, it can still be helpful to know enough basic html that you can figure out a wtf formatting thing by scanning the code instead of just whining that things aren't formatting right.

You know, like I was about to do before I remembered to go look at the code.

Anyway, one quick gross thing that you're perfectly welcome to skip, then more mindless tea blather because we haven't had any for a bit. Just look at the leaves if you don't feel like hearing the nasty stuff. No, seriously. Just look to the left for a while. It'll be done soon.

Ok, so here's the thing. I've had a bit of an earwax problem since I was a kid. So did my brother, if I remember right. I can't really remember what he had to do, but I had to go to the clinic to have my ears syringed every once in a while because of wax build-up. In my case, my doctor couldn't figure out why it was building up at all. H told me that it was fairly soft and didn't seem to be compacting, and that for most people wax like that just falls out periodically. Not mine, though, so I had the joy of having a metal syringe jammed in my ears now and then (one of the nurses seemed incapable of aiming, and she'd always scrape the side of my ear canal with the thing. And then, of course, give me heck if I jumped) to have them shot up with warm water to move the bloody (well, not literally bloody) wax along. Then would come a few hours of swimmer's head, naturally. Water swishing around trying to find its way out. For hours, did I mention? Terribly pleasant.

As I got older I started doing my own ears when they needed it. No horrible metal syringe, though. One of those little plastic baby syringes does the trick, usually. Head over the sink, watch the disgusting little bits come out, rinse, repeat. Not fun, but better than a doctor's visit. Anyway (again), last night I was feeling a little blocked and realised that it had been ages since I'd washed things out. It was all the usual routine, except for what I saw in the sink after I did my right ear. Holy mother of something or other all that nastiness was in my ear??? Gah. I have a zoology degree and have seen a lot of things, but even I was moderately horrified by the amount of dark, dark wax that was lurking in the recesses, so to speak.

Please, please, for Whomever's sake, remind me to do my ears a liiitle more frequently from now on...

----------

Ok, done with that. I need to get back to work (as you hear nearly every day) but I wanted to say quickly and quietly that I may have a new favourite tea. 

I did say quietly. Don't want to offend the former favourite.

Keep in mind that when I say favourite I'm meaning favourite "standard" tea, for lack of a better term. Actually, that's a pretty bad term. Let me put it this way, then: my favourite style of tea is probably masala chai, or what we in North America tend to call just plain chai. There are lots of different types of masala chai out there, though, so let's call it a tea category rather than a tea. When I say favourite tea, then, I'm meaning straight-up tea without added spices or other flavours. I think that makes more sense now.

ANYWAY (the third), I'm a die-hard second flush darjeeling fan and always will be, but I have to admit that the Quangzhou Milk Oolong that I got in my last tea order is possibly the smoothest tea I've ever had in my life. My loyalties may be shifting, you guys.

But I'll always have a special place in my heart for you, darjeeling my old friend. Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere permanently. I'm just visiting other teas occasionally, that's all.



Um, like the tea cares anyway. Let me end like a normal person already and say that if you're an oolong lover then this particular one is definitely worth a try.





Man, this was a lot of words for such a pointless post. Have a bonus cat or two. You deserve it for making it all the way to the bottom.

Pointless whatever I end up typing of the day:

 Ever get the feeling that you're nothing but the last wrinkled apple on the tree?

You shouldn't from this picture, by the way. This tree is covered in old, wrinkled apples. They don't go to waste, though. Later on the deer will eat them, and probably proceed to get higher than a kite on fermented apple juice.

At least it gives them some entertainment.

I don't really have any decent blather in my head at the moment. I got soaked during my morning program, and I think it washed a bit of brain away. I should get back to work anyway. Sooo...

Um....

Have a bonus Bob?





Yeah, that'll do.

Thanks, Bob.

Quick cat photo of the day:

Mood lighting.

And with that, I have to get back to work. Happy Ada Lovelace Day, everyone.

Fifty things on my mind

For those new to the program, occasionally when I haven't nailed down a blather topic and don't feel like just posting I've got nothing, I'll do a fifty list.

Fifty what, exactly?

I don't know. Whatever comes out. Can't say I ever have it planned before I start typing. Sometimes I'll give myself a vague subject, but today I'm just going with the first thing that comes into my head. And then the second thing. And then the third thing.

Well, I suppose that you'd figured that out already. I guess I should start, then.

Any time, Dee.

Ok, here goes. Fifty things on my mind. And I hope that there really are fifty things on my mind...

1. This computer is sooo sloow.
2. I hate that I'm stopping in at work on my way home just to prepare for a stupidly early booking tomorrow.
3. Is it wrong that I'm in my forties but I still love that my flash drive is shaped like a crocodile?
4. I like cats.
5. I'm allergic to cats. The universe sniggers.
6. I originally typed carts instead of cats. Should have left it and kept my two fans wondering what kind of carts I liked. Or that I'm allergic to.
7. Should I have turkey for lunch again, or should I save it for the rest of the week?
8. I'm currently rather glad that I don't live in Calgary, what with the power outage. Actually, I'm generally glad that I don't live in Calgary.
9. Kinda hate this bra.
10. I don't hear any pounding upstairs. The kittens must be asleep.
11. Are fish ever more than decor? I mean, can a person have feelings for a fish? I certainly don't.
12. Would really like to get Surfin' Bird out of my head this morning. Here, why don't you have it instead?
13. Ok, that video was stupidly awesome.
14. Should I have turkey for supper tonight, or pizza? Probably pizza. Gotta avoid turkey fatigue.
15. Maybe I should make my own pizza. That'd be good.
16. I hope the highway isn't too busy. I'm not feeling too creative with my swear words today.
17. Yeah, I swear in the car. Harmless, except when I have a passenger. Then it's embarrassing or funny, depending who's along.
18. Email or e-mail? Email when texting, I think, but e-mail when you're being formal.
19. I can't believe that's an issue in my life.
20. In my life. That could be an earworm for a while.
21. I think that my brain radio is stuck in the sixties today. I'm ok with that.
22. Should I be paid for always keeping the work twitter feed on in the background on Dad's computer? Nah, I don't mind.
23. It's weird that we do so much of our work with twitter, though. I may have mentioned that once or twice.
24. I've probably mentioned most things once or twice or twenty times. Gotta love/loathe long-time blogging.
25. Twenty-five. Half way there! Sigh, only half way there. Keep draining the brain, Dee.
26. Is it odd that I've come to think of myself as Dee a lot of the time now, rather than by my actual name (which, of course, is Dimenhydrinate). I mean, people used to call me Dee in university, but should I be thinking of myself that way?
27. How many of you just looked up dimenhydrinate? Of course that's not my name. It's really Diatomite.
28. Did you seriously just look that up too?
29. I like traffic lights. It's an incredibly stupid Monty Python song, and it's how I can often get rid of earworms. Not linking to this one; you can find it yourselves.
30. I once read a Stephen Fry book that was entirely devoid of semicolons. He used commas for everything. Everything. Drove me frigging nuts.
31. I'm told that's more of a putt than a drive.
32. I don't consider myself a grammar granny, but the misuse of unique bugs the crap out of me. Loose instead of lose comes a close second. Learn your language, people.
33. I haven't been updating my reading shelf on the sidebar lately, but I recently reread A Shropshire Lad. Here it is through Project Gutenberg, and worth a look if you're not familiar. One of my all-time favourites. Apparent simplicity that hides a lot of skill and thought. My favourite poem? Probably Terence, this is stupid stuff... I used to be able to recite it from memory, but it fell out of my head at some point.
34. Just read the introduction supplied with that Gutenberg edition. Man, was that flowery horsecrap. And I hate when academic writers use One instead of You. French has On, yes, but using One in English is just pretentious.
35. In real life I would have said horseshit instead of horsecrap. I have juuust enough of a linguistics background (yeah, I did take some linguistics in university. Doesn't everyone with a zoology degree?) to be dangerous in my thoughts about language usage. Swearwords only are offensive if you let yourself be offended by them, really.
36. And if that last has you wondering, I try to keep it less blue here on the blog because I know that my two fans come from many different backgrounds and likely don't agree with all of my language opinions.
37. My two fans, by the way, is a joke to and for me. I know that I have more than two fans. Three, even.
38. I still don't hear any thumping upstairs. That's kind of suspicious.
39. Why is it that so often when I type the it comes out teh?
40. I should have lunch. But there's still ten to go...
41. Still enjoying my rolling ring, if anyone wondered. It feels weird to have it on today, though. I don't usually bother with jewellery at Dad's place.
42. And now we've reached the answer to life, the universe, and everything.
43. Back to language for a second. Do you use the Oxford comma like I did above? Look it up if you don't know. I'm done linking.
44. Ebola. Yes, it's very serious. But why are so many North Americans worrying about ebola and then not bothering to get a flu shot? The "plain old" flu kills way more people here.
45. And don't get me started on the anti-vaccination crowd. I'll just say read some science, people, and leave it at that.
46. I hate it when I find typos in old posts. I'll probably find some here tomorrow, but I don't have much time to proof today.
47. My wrist is starting to hurt. Just a few more, wrist.
48. There was a thump. Sounds like a Dad thump rather than a cat thump though.
49. I'm going to change this list thing to twenty things instead of fifty, I think.
50. Maybe my name is really Dysmorphia? No, that doesn't seem right.

Aaand... done. Does it make sense? Don't know, don't care, not rereading until tomorrow. Happy lunch, everyone.



Would that be Canadian lunch or American lunch, I wonder?

The yearly rant

Clearly, the Turkey Brothers have learned how to not help with the laundry.

Tom has also learned the term GET DOWN. Or at least the tone of voice. I suspect he may have had a little help from the smack fairy... oh, wait. Some of you won't get the reference, and if you don't it sounds more abusive than I mean it to. Gimme a second...

Ok, here we go. British sketch comedy as usual.

Anyway, the boys are still doing well, and are little shits kittens. Hard to believe at this point that they'll ever settle down, but I know that they will. They're frustrating, sweet, and entertaining as hell. In other words, yeah, they're kittens.

They've also already learned that hearing the fridge door open at certain times may mean a good chance of getting meat scraps (gee, I wonder who taught them that? It definitely wasn't me). It's kind of funny, because back when my Dad was still teaching the old cats knew that if they showed up in the kitchen when he was making his sandwich to take for lunch, they'd likely get a treat. Kind of early for these two to have formed the habit, but it's there now so I can't do much about it. Which brings me to the yearly rant.

Oh, and sorry if this comes off as crabby. I'm not really, but this computer's getting old enough that it's sometimes faster to post things to the internet by using a stone tablet. As well, I forgot my wrist tensor at home, so I'm dealing with an annoyingly achy joint. Ought to be fun when I try to do the art thing in a few minutes. Having said that, then, here's the subject suggested by the cats' new-found love of turkey (we had our supper yesterday) and the usual internet greetings I've been noticing pretty much everywhere:

Don't say Canadian Thanksgiving, Canadian bloggers/tweeters/whateverelsers. For pity's sake. This time of year I see it everywhere. Happy Canadian Thanksgiving, everyone! I mean, it's one thing if someone from an American site says it, because they're clarifying it for their readers. But when known Canadian internet personalities insist on adding Canadian to Thanksgiving, it's more than clarification. It's apologising. And while it's cliché that we're known for apologising, in this case it's just annoying. It's see, Americans? We have one too. Never mind that our first Thanksgiving was actually before the Pilgrims. Never mind that if you're a Canadian and people know that you're Canadian, the Americans will probably figure out that you're talking about a Canadian holiday when you say Thanksgiving a month earlier than they're expecting it. Saying Happy Canadian Thanksgiving when you just mean Thanksgiving is like putting up your hand timidly in the back of the room to ask the American commercial giant if it's ok to have a different Thanksgiving than the one that they advertise.

Yeah, it annoys me a little. And it is so cliché Canadian that it kind of makes me want to headdesk whenever I see it. I know you all mean well, but can't we just own our own holidays for once? After all, we're allowed to spell colour with a u around here. We can have different stats as well, right?

Um, that would be short for Statuary Holiday. Government-mandated days off with pay, where you usually get time and a half if you have to work them. It's a Canadian thing.

Kind of like Thanksgiving.



Happy American Columbus Day, everyone.

Pointless photo of the day:

That's all for today. I'm too tired to make sense.

Or even nonsense.

Turkey Brothers Update

 Today's pointless cat photos are actually comparison shots so you can see how the Turkey Brothers are growing. For the first versions, check here, here, and here.

Yep, the brothers are getting bigger, and definitely more active. Bob's the mellower of the two, and is much less likely to use a person's legs as a ladder. He'll sit beside you or on your lap, but he's not especially thrilled to be picked up. He'll put up with it all right; it's just not his favourite thing in the world

Tom... ah, Tom. Dad should have named him Edmund Hillary. He's a climber. I have a picture of him from a few weeks ago that I never posted, happily sitting on top of the rocking chair after climbing the upholstery. Dad's since taken the cushions off the chair. They would have been totally destroyed otherwise. Tom loves to climb. Chairs, bedskirts, legs... and the problem with the leg thing is that he'll take a running leap at you and catch you half way up. He gets a certain look in his eye, and you know you just can't do a thing about what's going to happen next. He got me good in the knee the other night. That's fun. Or, you know, not.

 Now, having said that, he's also the cuddlier of the two. He loves being held, and he'll tell you that he'd like to be picked up. And you'd better listen, because otherwise you're going to be climbed (see last paragraph).

They both still really seek out people, and I'm hoping that doesn't change as they get older.

Tom's still very much the ringleader. First to the food, first to the toys, and first to get into trouble. He recently figured out that he can use the dining room chairs to get on to the table, and from there he can get to the kitchen counter. Apparently he got a fairly decisive warning about that, but I'm sure it's not the last one. Dad had told me that Bob recently figured out how to unravel the toilet roll, but after having seen Tom doing the exact same thing myself, I'd be willing to bet that it was Tom who taught Bob.

I'm getting the feeling that these guys will end up being long haired, or at least medium. They both have weirdly long hair on their haunches. It'd be kind of funny if the back hair stayed long and they turned out to be short haired otherwise. Cat mullet.

Bob's coat is a bit coarser and thicker than Tom's. It almost seems like a double coat already. Maybe he'll turn into a pretend Norwegian Forest Cat or something. That'd be all right.

Anyway, there's your cats for today. I actually took a handful of yard pictures this weekend, so it won't be all cats all the time here for a while. Ok, so there'll be some cats.

What's the internet without cats?



Porn, I guess.

Girly

That's about the size of things out there, folks. Nights are getting cold, green is starting to disappear, and I'm getting cranky.

Oh no, wait. I'm always cranky.

----------

I was reading one of those what to put in your make-up bag things this morning. Why, I'm not sure. I've never been a particularly girly girl (my barbies were always in various states of plastic fracture because they did stunts rather than hanging around the pool). Not a tomboy in the slightest, mind you; I just don't understand the ultrafeminine attitude. It doesn't make sense to me. It's also not practical at all. Still, I read those Cosmoesque internet articles. Maybe to try to get it, or more likely to annoy myself. Today? Three things you ABSOLUTELY MUST HAVE in your kit if you couldn't have anything else.

Their verdict? A BB-style foundation (they gave a brand name for each thing on the list. I'm not going to bother repeating them), a red lipstick, and a mascara.

Seriously? Whatever, ladies.

Ok, a couple of caveats before I go on with my opinion. First, I've been known to go out without make-up. I know, right? Shock, horror, and how the hell could anyone stand to look at me? Second, I have a decidedly non-girly job. If I came to the nature centre in fashion plate make-up everyone would wonder what paint store I'd been hit by. Oh, and third since I'm apparently counting "a couple" in Monty Python style, if you're an aficionado of the smokey eye I promise you that I'll be looking at you wondering why you're imitating a raccoon.

Understood? Then let's begin.

First the BB creme (HATE the whole cute BB name trend, but whatever). Yeah, I'm ok with that. In fact, on work days I use a BB creme, although certainly not the high-end one the article recommends. Who wants to spend that much on a foundation when you could buy, say, food?

Next, the lipstick. A lip colour is important if you're a make-up person and you're carrying a small bag, I suppose, but bright red is decidedly not appropriate for every situation. Sometimes it just makes you look tarty. I'll give them the lipstick, but only if it's something a lot subtler.

And now, the mascara. No. Mascara is not a necessity. It's a pain in the arse is what it is. And yes, I've worn mascara. I used to wear it frequently as a teenager, and it was usually neon blue. Gotta love the eighties. Anyway, I gave up mascara when I went to university, and I've maybe used it twice since. Regretted it every time. When I used to wear contacts it just irritated my eyes, and once I switched to only glasses I constantly felt my artificially-hardened lashes brushing the lenses.

Yeah, I have fairly long lashes. And fairly dark ones, so I don't suppose I have a need of mascara in everyday life. Gee, do you suppose that might have biased me in some way?...

Mascara's still a pain, though. And so many mascara-using people wear it so badly. Too heavy, too clumpy, too stupid-looking. It's the girl's version  of clown college, as far as I'm concerned.

So what would I suggest instead? Oh yes, I have a suggestion. Eyeliner, but not black. Black is too harsh. The one I use most often is sort of purple-ish (the theory being, according to the experts, that it might bring out some of the green in my blue-green eyes), and here at Dad's I use a double-ended thing that has a brown liner on one end and a highlighter on the other end. That's when I wear make-up here, of course. I don't always, because it's the weekend and I'm not really going anywhere. If I do, it's just the liner and a bit of powder to knock the shine off.

Get a feeling that the cosmetics industry's advertising juggernaut never quite ran over me?

Anyway, lunch time for me now. And maybe a little less girly reading. Otherwise, the next post will turn out to be something like What is it with you people and stupid shoes?





I never have got the shoe thing either. Do you suppose that maybe I'm not a girl?

Not a cat photo of the day:

 I just thought that we needed a a break. So here's an apple tree instead of a cat photo.





Oh, all right. One cat photo.

What is is with cats and cardboard, anyway? I mean, this one doesn't even qualify as a box.



The cardboard, that is. Although the cat also doesn't qualify as a box.



Last I checked, anyway.

Cat fight...

 Ok, so more like cat wrestling. Boys will be boys, after all.

This needs to be a quick post since I'm kind of busy, but I thought I may as well give you two pictures today so that you can see them doing things besides fighting.

Um, does sleeping count as doing things?