Saturday was a beautiful day and we needed to focus on the outside chores…trimming back all of the bushes, some of the trees, beginning the task of getting the pool ready for swimming, etc. I worked on the pool for about an hour before rousting the troops to get on the greenery. After six years living here, I still can’t figure out who plants a sweet gum tree right next to a pool, nor can I understand planting that pernicious weed honeysuckle. Another year for me to dislike it and it hasn’t even starting reeking yet (That’s just me…Andrea likes it). While pulling out some of the long runners from behind a less aggressive bush, I discovered a small moving mass of dark fur.
It turned out to be FOUR small masses of fur…kittens. Tiny kittens. Probably less than three weeks old. I let them be while we moved on to another part of the back yard, for the mother would show up now and then atop our ten foot wooden fence and look down on her charges.
After we worked our way to the front yard, Drew and Dylan saw the momma racing on the other side of the house, across the street, with one of the kittens in her mouth. Over the next hour or so, she moved two more, but the last one was alone for quite a while.
I read somewhere ages ago that dogs and cats don’t have a concept of four or more – one, two, three…many. The species will propagate fine with those three. Whether or not the counting anecdote is true, this particular mother stopped one short of “many”. When it became apparent that the mother wasn’t coming back, Andrea rescued the six inch long mewler and set about trying to figure out how to care for it and find someone else who could take over the care.
This shot is me, exhausted after all the yard work (unfinished, unfortunately, as we ran out of battery charges for the hedge trimmer), holding the tiny critter as I was “reading” a book on my iPad – note the reading glasses. Meanwhile, Andrea contacted someone who fosters cats/kittens and learned that the kitten might not last the night as it refused the fake milk Andrea got at the pet store. Persistence paid off, though, and Andrea did get the little one to drink some. I didn’t wake nearly as much as Andrea (exhausted, remember? that’s my story), but that tiny critter did survive. And the fostering contact found a host who had a nursing mother cat, so Andrea’s taking the kitten now to meet up and hand off, hopefully to a better life.
Posted in Art, Beers, Books, Personal thoughts
Tagged A Universe from Nothing, Aeropress, Blue Moon, Cass Sunstein, cubits, Culture Lab, Dallas Arts: A Creative Conversation, Dallas Museum of Art, Dalls Arts Week, Echoes of the Well of Souls, Is God a Mathematician?, Jack Chalker, kittens, Lawrence Krass, Leonard Mlodinow, Mario Livio, Maxwell Anderson, Mike Rawlings, New Scientist, Noah's Ark, Nudge, Oliver Sacks, Richard Thaler, Robert Anton Wilson, Stephen Hawking, The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, The New Business of Design, Tom Peters, yard work
English is such a trippy language. Words can mean so many things. It’s time for my spring push to prepare the pool for eventual use, and I have to shock it. So I went out in my starkers and yelled “Boo!”
Oh well. Didn’t work last year and didn’t work this morning either. Back to the old chemical methods…multiple bags of shock.
People shock us all the time. No need to explain, I’m sure.
Another shock comes when we mistake small packages for being harmless. Last night I found a tiny ant – it was black and didn’t look like a fire ant – crawling on my hand and before I brushed it off, it apparently bit me right between the knuckles of my first and second fingers. It itched for a while and when I woke up, I thought I had slept on the hand…it felt numb like that. Turns out it was swollen and the numbness was my skin being stretched. A less than three millimeter ant injected enough formic acid to cause that much of a reaction? Shocking!
There’s medical shock, impact shock, hair shock (okay, shock of hair), shocks of grain (sheaves stacked for drying) … lots of shocks. But “shock” also has the electrical connotation.
As long as I can remember, I seem to have an … (pardon) … attraction to static electricity. I don’t mean that I like or am obsessed by it. No, more like the other way around. I’m sure those who live in dry climates, or even just dry seasonal climates have experienced that spark getting out of a car. Or, walking across a room and grabbing a door handle only to receive a jarring jolt of reality that electricity is all around us. For whatever reason, my body seems to pick up more than the average person. And when it lets go… Bam!
Posted in Books, Fun, Interests, Movies, Personal thoughts
Tagged Cass Sunstein, Chinhae, Elementary, fire ant, How to Think Like sherlock, How to Think Like Sherlock Holmes, Jacob's ladder, Jinhae, Jurassic Park 3D, language, Managing as Designing, Mastermind, Nudge, Richard Thaler, roku, Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, shocking, static electricity, Terminator, time domain reflectometer, Tom Peters, tunnel diode, USS Dwight D. Eienhower (CVN-69), USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71)