Losing a battle

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Originally uploaded by Auntie Kangaroo.

Christmas is coming. One of the two most important and wondrous anniversaries of the year. I've passed other anniversaries (a few weeks ago I passed the two year mark of living in my condo), and others are coming up (in March my cats turn 2). But this is the one that we all enjoy, that some of us fight for (happy holidays, indeed) to preserve its name and reason. Some battles are worth fighting.

Other battles obviously are meant to be lost. Like the one that Mr. Knightley is winning here. I gues his watching me from his perch in front of my warm toaster oven is better than his watching me from his perch on my shoulder. Especially when I don't have the benefit of a specially designed reinforced shoulder pad (David Weber fans should catch the reference and my train of thought).

That's all for now, folks. Here's my chance to wish all of you a Happy Christmas, with all the joy that the first Christmas brought to some weary shepherds on a lonely hill.

Home refreshing!

So much has happened this summer! Now it's September, and time to settle down and settle in to work, fiscal responsibility, the new TV season, and the wind-up towards Christmas (yes, choir starts next Sunday). But let's take a look back at all the fun...

It all started with the Agrifair on the July 1st weekend (oh yeah, already posted about that one), a very fun Cousins' Day, then an unforgettable Phantom of the Opera, Bard on the Beach, and the traditional visits to the PNE.

And in the midst of it all, a little project to add some colour to my life. What do cats have to do with painting and new furniture? Everything, if they can get away with it. I couldn't have done it without Kendra's hard work, or had so much fun doing it. There are more pictures here if you want to see the pretty colours I found for my bedrooms.

Mr. Knightley helped us pull the old (ugly) border from the wall of my guest room. Notice the pretty blue baseboards, which thankfully are now a beautiful white!

Sorry, this one is a bit fuzzy, but it's still one of my favourites. Emma loved the new bookshelves, at least until I filled them with books and put the doors on.

Flying High

It's been a busy summer! I was going through my photos from the last couple of months, and was surprised to see how much has happened. Time has flown indeed! And how appropriate to start this summer blog run with pictures from the Abbotsford Agrifair. I went with Milena and Elyssa, and quickly learned a lesson in how the enjoyment of rides changes with age. Elyssa was running from ride to ride to ride to ride, each of which rotated in the same (counter-clockwise) direction. I used to love these rides! What happened to my internal gyroscope, and my ability to recover between rides? It was still a very fun time, with beautiful fireworks to top it all off. Oh yeah, and a wild bumper-car playtime at the end of it all. If you want to see more pictures, go here.

Bouncing kitties and other phenomena

And now, back to our regular programming...

I wish I could catch them at it. 'Tis the season of flies mysteriously finding the dead centre of a room and orbiting around it. 'Tis therefore the season of cats randomly jumping in the air after said flies. One second they are out of sight behind my easy chair, and the next they're leaping in the air and chattering at the flies. It's adorable and insane at the same time. The other day Emma pulled a moth off the wall at least 5 feet from the floor. Crazy stuff! Of course, the minute I pull out my camera, they turn into writhing exhibitionists on the floor, apparently incapable of supporting their weight on their cute little paws.

I regretted that special leaping ability on Saturday. We lived through quite an adventure. Mr. K. got a Starbucks gift bag stuck around his middle (I guess he tried to crawl through the handle), and took off in a great tear to try to outrun the bag that was chasing him. This spooked Emma, who leaped up onto the windowsill in my bedroom. This window sill sits at least an inch above my head, a leap of 5 and a half feet from the floor. On one side, cozy and safe bedroom. On the other side, a four-storey drop to my neighbour's patio. I pulled Emma down, with my heart in my throat, then managed to corner the black blur and remove the offending bag, and we all sat back and let the adrenaline drain out of us. Enough excitement, already. Leaping should be outlawed.

Yes, I Believe

Ok, here's the post that I really wanted to write yesterday. But then I found a different soap box, stepped up onto it, and, well, I gave a little rant. Now that's out of my system (and really, should I be surprised that yet another TV offering is superficial and contrived?), and I can get back to what I was really thinking about.

I was listening to one of the "speakers" in TLC's The Messengers yesterday. A woman was espousing her point of view that we, as a culture, are pressured to "believe" religion, to "believe" in whatever we call true, to "believe" in the facts of our lives, and thus we cheat ourselves out of realizing that what we have right now is perfect. Her solution? To grasp the moment by knowing these same things, not simply believing them.

So I started thinking. What is this distinction between knowledge and belief? Are we as Christians missing something by emphasizing belief? So many songs speak of belief. By definition, we say we are Christians because we believe in Jesus. Is this somehow a lesser expression of trust than to say that we know?

But really, faith is both. It's "being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see" (Hebrews 11:1). I know that God exists, that He sent His Son to live as a man, that Jesus died to pay the penalty for my sins, that He rose from the dead, that He offers eternal life to all who put their trust in Him, that He provides the Holy Spirit as a counsellor and guide in my life. These are all things that I have not directly observed in the past or present, or they are things that I hope for in the future. But I know them all to be true, by historical record as well as personal experience of the effects of these facts in my life and in the lives of others. So, to agree with the contestant on TV, I know these things.

But it's also true that I believe them. If knowing implies a certainty of mind, so that I accept these things as real, there's still something missing. And that is belief. A choice of mind and heart. A choice to trust in the promises made. I believe in Jesus. I believe in salvation by grace, not my works of good. I believe that I will live eternally with Christ in Heaven, and I believe in His working in and through me by the agent of the Holy Spirit.

I know these things to be real, but beyond that I have committed my heart to also believing and trusting them.

That's what was missing. It's great to say "I know" something. But if I know it and don't let it change my life, if I simply stop there and am satisfied with accepting these things as facts, the knowledge stays in my head. I want it to live in my heart, my very being, as well.

Conversely, belief without knowledge is equally incomplete. I don't want to believe in something about which I can't say "I know this to be true". What would be the point? As Paul wrote to the Romans, if I believe in Christ's resurrection, but it didn't really happen, then my faith, my belief, is futile.

So the speaker had one kernel of truth in her argument. It's pointless to simply believe, believe. We must know. And knowing, we must believe.

A different kind of post

Once again I have been disappointed with a new "reality tv" show.

I'll admit it, I'm a bit of a TLC junkie (my favourite tlc life lesson is the one about becoming the crazy cat lady - big surprise). So I've seen the promo ads for their new show, The Messengers. From how it was portrayed, I thought it was supposed to be about following some ordinary people as they went out and experienced the hard lives of others, and candidly related to the rest of us what they had learned. Already over-exposed to this sort of thing by tear-jerking WorldVision ads, I thought I would give this a pass, also becuase I imagined it would not really offer any real solutions, unlike the afore-mentioned tear-jerkers.

But tonight I left the TV on while I went out for some last-minute shopping (got to get those windows clean for the screen-installer-guy tomorrow). When I came home, The Messengers was on, and it turns out to be some American Idol rip-off, a competition for "America's next inspirational speaker". I stood there with my jaw hanging open for at least 10 seconds (quite a long time when there are three flies hovering around the centre of my living room). Is this a new low, or has North American culture so watered down sincere presentations and expressions of truth, that it is now open for competition? Have we stooped so low that we're ready to listen to people, completely irrespective of how true their statements are (never mind whether or not the speaker believes what they're saying), as long as their speaking is impassioned and convincing enough? Is morality so relative that we choose to act on what the best (most convincing) speaker is saying?

What about the people that help the competitors arrive at the insights that they then exploit to win the competition?

I could have expected something like this from some other networks, but TLC? I am more inspired by the life-changing experiences of people on What Not To Wear. At least these life changes are real and not made to be voted on.

To top it all off, the final prize of this moralized "Idol" knock-off? A publishing deal! Words fail me. Look out for a new bookstore shelf category: TV Inspired Inspirational. The content of these books? Doesn't really seem to matter, as long as they look and sound like a successful "inspirational" speaker. Parallel thought: sensational criminals get book deals; this competition could fit with politics - "America's Next Top Politician" or "America's Next President" (now there could be a good show!).

I started this post with a different thought, while listening to one of the speakers (maybe I'll get back to that in another post). This was before I realized that it was a competition. When I still thought that the people were actually speaking because they wanted to get a point across, not to get votes from the audience on their presentation.

Dare I wonder what would happen if someone stood up there and presented Truth?

Not my usual kind of post. A bit more cynical and more tongue-in-cheek than usual. But I had to get it out of my head.

Cool kitty

I know we can't complain about a 3-day heat wave, when much of the rest of the continent is suffering worse than we are. But in typical Vancouver fashion, even this weather extreme is much-discussed, analysed, emphasized, and sensationalized. And it does provide some interesting challenges. What do you do with a black cat who insists on sitting as close to a sunbeam as possible, without actually baking? Especially when his sister is smart enough to find the coolest spots in the house? Yesterday during the hottest part of the day she even sprawled herself in front of the fan (about three feet away, mind you) to stay cool. Well, I've discovered something new. My brush-adoring kitty also seems to like a damp cloth to cool his overheated fur. Maybe I'll have to try a wool vest in winter. Or would studded leather suit him better? I'm open to suggestions. Just no bonnets, please.

Celebrating Summer

What do you do to celebrate the end of another school year, the beginning of summer, and wonderful weather in one of the best cities in the world in which to live? You put on an Italian/Australian feast! The Italian part is obvious (bread, prosciutto, bocconcini, tomatoes, and fresh basil), and the Australian part is courtesy of Gord with a tasty Cabernet Merlot direct from Australia.


All that's missing is some German bratwurst, and we would have had a feast to also celebrate Italy's semi-final decisive victory. Forza Azzurri! Viva l'Italia! 

Catwheels

Has my kitty learned how to do cartwheels, or is she just enjoying a particularly stretchy stretch? How satisfying it must be to be able to bend over backwards like this.


Sometimes I wish I could. 

Collaging: new verb for the tech world

One can sure spend (e.g. waste) time playing with digital photography! Or maybe it's not a waste, if you get to do cool stuff like this:

Cool Picasa

I just tried a new (to me) Google app called Picasa. It looks like it will be useful to organize my pictures, and the redeye correction is one of the better ones I've tried. But what I think is really cool is the set of tools for image correction and enhancement. Check out this before/after of a picture I took from an airplane, looking down over the Grand Canyon.

The before picture is the original shot:



The after picture is a transformation using the "I'm feeling lucky" image adjustment tool. It does a pretty good job or removing the haze and window interference, and restores a lot of the colour. Very cool!


I tried it with several other pictures, and will continue to try out the other features. If nothing else, it's something to do on a Friday night. Of course, my cats are really wondering what I'm up to, so I may have to give up soon.

Screamin' California!

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Originally uploaded by Auntie Kangaroo.

Ok, so it would take too long to fully do justice to an amazing trip! But here are some of the highlights from my perspective:

- dipping my toes in the Pacific at the Santa Monica beach
- seeing stars on Space Mountain to the beat of new music
- Splash Mountain!
- California Screamin' (and it's not named that for nothin')
- getting soaked in Atlantis, and soaked more in the river rapids (oh yeah, that was actually uncomfortable)
- Shamu & co.
- doing handstands in a very cold pool
- the LEGO store!
- Mickey, Minnie, Princess Aurora, Pooh, Tigger, and most of all, Eeyore!
- eating funnel cakes and corn dogs
- laughing so hard I couldn't breathe
- good times with family, some not seen for many years.
- seeing the Grand Canyon from thousands of feet up on the way home (via Toronto, of course)

I'm sure there are more, but that's a snapshot of the trip. You can see more snapshots by clicking on the picture above.

So long for now, California!

Come play with me!

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Originally uploaded by Auntie Kangaroo.

Everything is back to normal. Freshly clean sheets on a freshly-turned mattress make an excellent playground. At least according to Emma, who is feeling much better now. And I think she's forgiven me for subjecting her to a very painful and stressful visit with the vet a couple of days ago. I love my cats!

Of fleas, worms, and other useless worries...

...or, how a little worm led to a mysterious washing-machine plumbing problem

Warning: this post is long and contains some objectionable material that may be disgust-forming to some readers, and may cause others to inexplicably start scratching their heads (and toes, and shoulders, and knees).



I had a very interesting week, and now that it's over, can look back and laugh. So I thought it only proper to share a glimpse into my paranoia with anyone misguided enough to read past the first paragraph.

It all started on Monday with an odd little creature called a tapeworm. In my cat. In my house. Poor Emma. The cat with the dislocated tail somehow caught one, and it was time to face reality. I had suspected for some time that something fishy (ok, wormy) was going on, and finally decided to grasp the cat by the tail and really take this seriously. So I did what I always do with a serious question: I went to Google.

Wednesday found me at the pet clinic, trying to help the vet give my hissing, spitting, biting kitty an apparently painful and terrifying shot. So much for the tapeworm.

Paranoia step #1.
Now tapeworms in cats are carried by fleas, but how did my fastidious, indoor-only kitty find a flea? And why did the ever-dignified Mr. Knightley not catch the same parasite? So began a scouring of my place from top to bottom. According to some very professional-looking web resources, tapeworms are only caught by ingesting fleas or rodents. Suggestions for detection of fleas followed (rodents are pretty well recognizable to the naked eye, and the closest thing to a live rodent my cats have seen are giant squirrels in their dreams, or me eating a carrot).

The vet combed Emma's coat, with no evidence of fleas. At home, I inspected her skin, checked her bed for "salt and pepper grains" (flea dirt), watched both cats for excessive scratching, and asked them if they recognized the flea's mug shot on my computer. Nope. So I continued with my laundry. You can't tell me that you wouldn't wash all your blankets, etc. after an encounter with a tapeworm, harmless though it might be.

Paranoia stage #2.
Emma was flea-free, but what about Mr. K? I had already inspected him and his bed for tapeworm and/or fleas. Nothing. Then I took my glasses off and inspected his blanket (no, I'm not getting older - I just need new glasses). I saw little black and yellow specks. Really. I got worried. Into the washing machine with you, offending blanket!

Just to make sure I wasn't being paranoid (my logic drive was obviously already malfunctioning), I did what the web had suggested. I took some water, poured it over the blanket, and waited for the specks to behave like little dried blood bits. The water poured off like the blanket was made out of teflon. So I got more water, and poured it on again. This time I contained more of the water, but the results were inconclusive. The specks didn't change.

After washing, I took the blanket out, took my glasses off again, and looked closely. Black and yellow specks still in place. Not flea dirt! So far, so good.

Paranoia step #3.
Just when I thought the saga was over, with the last load of laundry in the drier, I made a disturbing discovery. Water in the carpet in the doorway of my laundry cupboard. Not just a couple of drops, but enough to squish my toes into. Small panic.

Strange thing, though. There was no water on the floor around the washing machine, no soap bubbles, no evidence the water had come from the machine at all. But where in the world could the water have come from? And was there enough that it would have gone into the apartment below mine? Or did it come from the apartment above me and travel through the walls (a real possibility, if history is any kind of a teacher)? I went to bed.

The mystery solved.
Yes, it was solved, but only after about 24 hours of worrying. After work on Thursday, I did a load of laundry and stood there in front of the machine, with a flashlight in one hand and a Magic Shammy in the other. Have you ever wondered how long a load of laundry takes when you're watching it and waiting for water to come spewing out? I don't have to anymore. Of course, if you've been reading the above carefully, you will have already guessed what happened.

No water came from the washing machine. It didn't dawn on me until I was putting Mr. K's now-clean-and-dry blanket back on the couch where he likes it. Blanket - specks - flea dirt suspicion - water to test - more water to test - water rolling off blanket - carpet getting wet - me forgetting about the water in my worry about fleas - brought on by my worry about tapeworms - what a nut am I!


So the only question that remains is, could Emma have caught a tapeworm by eating a silverfish?


"Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? ... Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
- Matthew 6:27,34

Sun, sun, sun

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Originally uploaded by Auntie Kangaroo.

But not run, run, run. Our now annual tradition came off today in glorious fashion. A beautiful day in Vancouver to walk 10km with just a few other people. Ok, there were 50,700 registered participants, and it looked like most showed up.

Kendra, Shannon, Amanda, and Nicole made up the rest of our little group, and we had a great time, hopping from Starbucks to Starbucks, picking up some bagels and fruit on the way, and enjoying being in the city on a day when this is truly the best place to live.

Or is it? We had a somewhat disturbing reminder that not all is well in Vancouver when a man, pushing a shopping cart, cut through the crowd in the opposite direction, shouting and cursing something about "running for heroin." Not really sure what he was trying to get across, but it's a sign once again that while the weather, the atmosphere, the apparent good mood of everyone there point to an idyllic setting, we cannot with all our goodwill create a city of perfection simply by willing it to be so. A rather deep thought for a sunny Sunday afternoon... Something to think about, though. Or at least to pray about while we walk down the beautiful tree-lined, sunny streets of a beautiful city.

I had a great time. Thanks to my walking companions for a truly enjoyable day. Now I'm going to sit back and let my sleeping kitties show me what it means to relax and rest (and then I ask myself, what have they done all day that they feel the need to sleep all evening?).

Sun Run, I will see you next year. I hope the sun will make another blazing appearance in 2007!

Off To Saskatchewan

Well, we made it there and back without driving over a single snowflake. I've posted some of the pictures from our trip here. Granny's 90th birthday was successfully celebrated, with friends and some family near. It was also a chance to marvel again at God's creation, and its incredible variety. From mountains to stubbly prairie, beauty was everywhere.

Stress? I don't think so!

I think it must be my genetic inheritance to add stress and worry to my life at the drop of a hat. But really, why should I? I am learning something that I expect every cat owner has also learned: there is nothing in this world that is so important it can't be helped by having a cat on my lap. Every evening my cats wait for me. They will follow me around the house, talk to me, or simply stare at me until I sit down somewhere for more than two minutes. Then they'll jump on my lap or simply lie down beside me on the couch and sleep. Watching them sleep makes me relax, and realize I need to take time every day to just enjoy the moment. A moment of peace, a break from cares, and a reminder that I need to rest to be able to cope better tomorrow. Stress? I don't think so...

Happy Birthdays!

My kittens officially came of age this week, reaching their one-year landmark. Happy Birthday! So now I'm expecting them to turn into more typical cats, sleeping away most of the day (oh yeah, they do that already), becoming fussier in what they eat, and generally being more dignified and aloof. In short, more adult. This doesn't seem very likely, however, as they chase each other up and down the length of my apartment and then beg me to play with them.

This got me thinking to our assumptions about age. Do we expect to become more dignified and aloof as we get older? Do we expect others to accept our eccentricities and selfish fussiness as we add years to our age? I think I'll try to hang on to more of the playful innocence and wonder of childhood (or kittenhood), the older I get. After all, the main result of having cats in my life is a constant reminder that I am not the most important person here, even if I am the only human. And that's not a bad thing.

Chocolate fest for 2

Kendra came over today to help me celebrate my birthday, and I took it as an excuse to confirm yet again that chocolate and raspberries and ice-cream (and a little cabernet) are a natural match. I felt the need to remember this and document it for posterity.

Tanti auguri a me, e la torta a noi!

Let's try this out...

Maybe I'm not immune to peer pressure, but all the cool kids are doing it! So here's my first attempt at joining the world of blogging.

I will add pictures with my next posting, since the debate is still open here on whether to post a picture of me or of my cats - they're more photogenic than I am.

For now I'll just get this out there, and get on with my tax return. It's amazing what I can come up with to delay doing my taxes!