Diet

Thanks to National Oreo Day on Wednesday and an order of Girl Scout Cookies arriving, my diet this week has been about 63% cookies and coffee.

Whenever there are stupid holidays like this I always try to celebrate with my staff to boost moral. So this is the haul I brought in on Wednesday.

Of course oreo day is no Kenny Loggins Day celebration.

Baby Sock

I did laundry yesterday. I washed a bunch of baby clothes for our impending child. I washed them and hung them to dry and now am missing one baby sock.

I don’t even have a baby yet and I’m losing her clothes.

Fish Rapture?

About a year and a half ago Sam and I were walking down the sidewalk and found a fish. True story. It’s how Jen came into our lives. You can read about it here.

Jen’s Home

Jen was a Betta Fish. They don’t have exceptionally long life spans, 2-5 years depending on quality of life, tank size and other factors. We thought we had set up Jen pretty good. Her tank was bigger than most betta fish tanks, she had a low flow filter, some moss balls, and was fed both betta fish pellets and bloodworms. Pretty sweet life for a fish that was abandoned on a sidewalk on a hot day.

She had the attention of our youngest cat, Clue (or Little Bit.. .which is his nickname that is somehow way longer than his actual name). Clue (seen below) loved staring at the tank, laying around the tank and just sitting near it. Clue also has an infatuation with running water. Pour a glass of water, run a faucet, fill a pitcher or refill the tank, Clue is there playing with the running water. His interest seemed way more in the water, than ever in Jen, and Jen, while liking attention, always swam away from fast moving objects like paws.

Clue in his most ferocious pose.

Jen’s tank does have one flaw though. A small opening at the top to feed Jen. While Clue has put his paw in to play with the water before, he has never removed the lid or done it to play with Jen… That we know of.

Only for feeding.

Yesterday Sam and I were both downstairs watching tv and contemplating dinner. Shadows (our other, much lazier cat) was down there with us. We heard a crash from upstairs. Knowing how stupid both of our cats are, we just figured Clue was knocking things off the bookcase, coffee table, kitchen counter, sink counter, or any number of other places that he seems to think are super interesting worth knocking stuff off of. We didn’t move figuring whatever it was could wait. 20 minutes later, plans finalized, we came upstairs to find nothing wrong or askew.

Sam went to feed Jen her dinner, only to find out she’s not in her tank. However the lid is on, there are no puddles anywhere, the towel the tank sits on is completely dry, and no cat is acting odd or strange. Nothing is amiss, out of place, wet, or even remotely suspicious. Just no Jen.

We searched the house for a fish corpse, thinking there is no way our cat could eat Jen in her entirety. Shadows maybe, but he was downstairs with us the whole time. Clue, he likes to play with is food, drags toys and other things that move all over the house and just leave them places. But there was no water anywhere on the floor in any of the rooms of the house, and no fish remains to be found.

Also Clue himself was completely dry. Both front paws showed no sign of being wet. We checked the tank over for Jen remains, took apart the filter just to be sure, stirred up the rocks in the bottom, removed all decorations… no Jen.

Jen was there in the morning. I know, I fed her. And she was there around noon when I finished up my work and went downstairs to relax.

We came up with a few theories of what may have happened.

A) Clue was playing with the tank, was able to put a paw in the hole for feeding, lift the lid – without completely removing it – picked up an ate Jen in one swipe, replaced the lid, got a paper towel and wiped dry his fur, and threw away the paper towel to hide the evidence. In this scenario the crash we heard was the lid of the tank being replaced.

B) Jen is like a modern day Fish Houdini. She decided to escape to freedom, even though it was way below freezing outside, and ran off. The crash we heard would have been Jen jumping out of the tank or possible her slamming the door on her way out. Futurama, my favorite show of all time, may have had it right with the Reverse Scuba Suit.

It’s possible.

Lastly,
C) There was a small Fish Rapture. While Sam and I are not religious in any sort of way, it doesn’t mean our pets aren’t. This is my prevailing theory. In this theory the crash we heard is Jen being raptured and water immediately rushing in to fill the vacuum left from her being taken in whole.

There is this artist, Dana Ellyn, who does an amazing painting of the Fish Rapture. It’s fantastic. If I had money to spare, I’d buy it to hang over where the fish tank is to remind me of what happened to Jen.

I’m going to put it below Check out here paintings at DanaEllyn.com. She’s a pretty awesome artist.


The Fish Rapture?
(Painting by Dana Ellyn)

Anyways, we like to think we gave Jen a good home. The best that a Betta Fish abandoned on a sidewalk on a hot summer day could hope for. We like to think she had a personality and responding to our presence. Or at least recognized that when we came close, she was getting fed. We’re going to miss you Jen!

While I’m going with the Fish Rapture, what scenario do you think is most likely?

Cats and Christmas

Helping me wrap (badly) Sam’s presents.

Our cats love Christmas.

Not because they get lots of Christmas presents, although my mother got them their own stocking for this year. They also got several more springs for them to play with, the only toy they seem to play with lately.

They like anything new, and our Christmas tree is new to them. Never mind that both of them were around for Christmas last year. It’s new, and screams interest to them. Just look where their interest lay in this picture.

The tree is way more interesting than we are.
(yes. Sam is pregnant.)

I think it is because year after year I insist on a real tree, even if it a small one.

This one is our first tree in many years that isn’t a potted tree, rather a small cut one that has a water reservoir instead of soil.

The water reservoir, more than the ornaments, the felt objects or bouncy branches, is what our cats love and visit several times a day.

Better than their water dish or water fountain in the basement.

They both take turns drinking out of the tree water. To the point that I have to refill the water often. Clue, or Little Bit, the cat drinking in the picture above, will drink and splash in the water reservoir.

It make me really want the tree to stay longer, although I know it should go out around this time. They by far want to drink that water over their water fountain in the basement or water dish upstairs.

I’m pretty sure when I take the tree out I’m going to ruin their lives more than our soon to be child will.

Brad nails are not meant for hands

I learned an important lesson over the weekend.

Don’t shoot brad nails into your hands.

We (Sam and myself) were painting what will become the baby room and had taken down the framing around the window in the room.  To hand it again we needed a staple/nail gun.

Since the framing material was fragile we needed smaller nails than just finishing nails.  I thought, lets buy the fancier staple gun with the forward facing handle, those are supposed to be easier to hold and shoot.

We put on the lower frame and were just about to start with the right side frame.  Sam was holding the frame on, I got it attached to the lower one and proceeded to place the nail gun on the frame.  I used my left to hold it, and my right hand to steady it from the bottom.  The frame, being a window frame, is slanted it was hard to get the nail gun flush on it with some pressure.

I shot a nail, and immediately said, “Oh,” and dropped the nail gun.  Sam looked down at me as I was pulling out the brad nail from the center of my palm.  Sam immediately went to get paper towels as blood started pooling in my hand.  She gave me paper towels and we moved into the bathroom.  For the next five minutes I walked in circles with paper towels pressed to hand and laughed at myself.  This apparently is my adrenaline defensive mechanism to me getting minor injuries.  I laugh a lot and don’t stop moving.

After it stopped bleeding we cleaned it and I thought it was fine, but Sam, being the wise person she is, decided we should get it looked at just incase.  The express care place down the street agreed that I needed at least a tetanus shot since I hadn’t had one in seven years – not since a kid bite me at work and broke the skin.  They were at first hesitant to see me without an x-ray, which they couldn’t do there, but found a way to send me for out patient x-rays. 

Apparently I’m pretty skilled at minorly injuring myself.  I missed all the bones in my hand, and it stopped bleeding quickly.  When someone at worked asked me how bad it was I said “well it didn’t come out the other side so that’s good.”

Sam has written on the staple / nail gun in the hopes of preventing this from ever happening again.

In the plus side I had a great story to tell everyone at work on Monday.  And show them the fantastic bruise on my hand.

Pictures below: Wrong way to hold it.  Right way to hold.  Sam’s fix.