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.