Home(ish) for the holidays

Facebook status posted late yesterday afternoon: It's 233 miles to Delmont, I got a full tank of gas, two cats the back, it's getting dark, and I'm wearing sunglasses. Hit it.

Damn typo ruined the effect. Bleh. Blame my haste to get on my way and minimize the feline trauma. They officially do not travel well-- poor FatCat yacked and (here's a first) peed in the carrier. Well, one doesn't. DamnCat screeched, but ultimately resigned herself to her fate. Mostly. It's probably because FatCat still associates long car rides with being dumped at a shelter on some level, even though it's been three years (roughly half his life). Poor baby.

On a happier note, Steelers singing carols!! Yeah, they really shouldn't quit their day jobs, but it's pretty funny watching them try to sing harmony on Silver Bells.

Last bits

It's funny how the most mundane activities can trigger strong reactions. Yesterday, I changed the bag in my sweeper-- and it occurred to me that this bag was in my sweeper when I did the final cleaning of my old apartment. The dust and pollen and miscellaneous floor dirt were Pittsburgh in origin. The cat fur in the bottom was shed in Pittsburgh. This new bag will be filled with dust and pollen and miscellaneous floor dirt and cat fur that are all Baltimorean in origin. It's a weird milestone. And this weekend, I saw my first movie in Baltimore (I deserved a break after having my weekend plans ruined, though "break" is a bit of a stretch when Deathly Hallows had me in tears practically every ten minutes). Funny how time flies.

Speaking of which, I forgot to mark my Peteversary. So it's my third Peteversary plus one month-- and I happen to have taken this picture one month after taking him in to foster, so it all works out. Look at how bald and skinny he was-- and that was after a month of healing, fur regrowth, and fattening (Z also put on a few pounds from all the extra treats, funny enough). God, it still makes me so angry when I think about what kind of owner could neglect him that much.



In other news, (yeast-risen) oatmeal bread with molasses is a success. I added a bit of cardamom, which added a subtle something or other that complimented the molasses. Alas, as usual? This wan an unplanned experiment and I didn't take notes. Impulsive breadmaking, then I was inspired to quickly zap oats and water to make oatmeal to add in, then saw the remaining third cup of molasses and thought it would be a good changeup from the honey I usually put in oat bread... you know how it goes. We'll see if I can recreate it some time.

settling in

I'm slowly adjusting. It's raining for the first time in just about two weeks (yes, I've only been here for one), I've rearranged my furniture daily, and it's mostly stupid odds and ends to arrange once I have the furniture arranged. I went from a tiny apartment to two bedrooms, an apartment in a small building on a main street to a complex, fighting for parking (er, and tickets) to abundant free parking, gas went down a dime a gallon on average, you name it. It's strange. I obviously can't speak too much about my agency or job or anything, but it's going. There were four work days this week, two and a half of which were orientation. I finally got my badge and parking pass, which means no more car searches or standing around the front door with other new employees waiting for someone to come get me. It's not unlike waiting for mom or dad to pick you up after school. The complex is huge, and even bigger if you get in after 7:30 and have to walk a fair piece-- and I mean just in the parking lot. The work I'll be doing has been characterized as protecting the public's money. The cats are coming around, though DamnCat is clearly still spooked. Poor baby. At least there are lots of windows to look out and down upon their new world. Birds and bugs and people passing by to monitor. Extra pettings and treats from the human probably help.

moving living things

Packing all the Penguins gear from H and feeling a little blue. But that's what cuddly cats with squashy bellies are for. And my lord, Pete is a huge cat. I bought a new carrier/ "travel kennel" that's of a size recommended for dachshunds, but I'm still a little worried whether it'll be big enough for the trip when I see Pete next to it.

In other moving news, I'm not going to have a bathroom-- let alone shower-- window in my new place, so I've been scouting for solutions. While a Victorian-style Wardian case would be ever so fabulous, it just isn't in in the budget. Not at $150+ for one tall enough to accommodate my Aliceara (which, incidentally, has three new pseudobulbs popping out). Woe! But-- aha! My parents may still have aquariums from when my dad kept fish. And they do. Which means that I've just taken another step from being a casual hobbyist toward being a real hobbyist, as I find myself looking at orchidarium setups for ideas. Lights, fans, humidity monitors, misting systems, interior shelving...

I still don't know what the best way to move my plants will be. My avocado sprout is now featuring several little leaves. It's so cute.. and so delicate.

hot & humid weather makes me irritable

Why did we have to spring forward to August? Yuck.

The disembodied floating head of Andrew Carnegie for the Arts Festival is funny, but sort of cements the idea that you can be a right mean bastard with gallons of blood on your hands for your entire life, but the donation of a few million here and there will turn you into a kindly old uncle. I mean, the man had shared responsibility in the Johnstown Flood (over 2,200 killed and still one of the largest disasters in US history) and dumped the Homestead Strike in Frick's lap before hiding out in Scotland-- plus he played an active role in the subsequent subjugation of immigrants fresh off the boat. But it's all good. You can buy your way to a polished legacy and a teddy bear image with a few libraries and music halls (though no funds for their continuation) and such.

Speaking of libraries.... I tend to not want to do things that are overhyped. Like, I have no desire to watch Firefly/ Serenity, Avatar, Lost, or many of the things I quote-unquote should obsess over based on my demographic. I'll take a look at things in my own time, thank you very much. But with time to kill, I picked up The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen from the library (while picking up BPRD 1946). And... I'm done with Alan Moore. Watchmen was decent, but League magnified the sexism issues I had with Watchmen into artful misogyny and I can not tolerate that. The Hellboy universe is an Eden of feminism compared to everything I've read from Moore, and Hellboy is decidedly non-political or partisan (well, except for being anti-Nazi-- but who isn't?). A+ for conceit, F- for execution.

Speaking of execution, the problem with recently watching Death Race-- which is admittedly big and dumb and surprisingly entertaining, though not nearly as hilarious as its predecessor-- is that when I'm on the parkway and already feel like most of the other drivers are out to kill me, I really think it would be awesome to have a cow catcher and anti-tank missiles on jeepzilla. I think jeepzilla would like it, too.

DamnCat is still afraid that the new covered litter box is a carrier. She's FINALLY out for short stretches after hiding for about 35 hours. I managed to get her new collar-- with SKULLS!-- on her by touch when she was in the closet, but she's a little... edgy at present. Poor baby.

I am so going to miss Pittsburgh real estate prices. Assuming that my two years turn into permanent, houses in the area-- and we're talking moderate houses further out from the city core, where prices should be lower-- are still about 1.5-2.5x what you'd pay for comparable housing in the Pittsburgh area. Yikes.

Packing up the cats, too...

moving cats

I have two cats, DamnCat and EmoCat (sometimes FatCat). DamnCat's been mine since she was a tiny bottle baby. She's demanding, selective with her affection, and somewhat agoraphobic. She did NOT take well to moving next door from my old apartment, and she does NOT like to travel in the slightest. She has enjoyed perfect health, so she hasn't actually left my apartment since moving. EmoCat despises traveling as well, probably because it reminds him of being left at the shelter as a bald, malnourished boy covered with flea allergy dermatitis. Both are going to have to go to a vet for a checkup, rabies booster, a certification of their health, and tranquilizers-- because they're going on a much longer trip in the near future. However, I only have one smallish carrier and I've been trying to find two larger ones to accommodate my M-to-L and XXL cats. Larger, nicer carriers to make the trip more tolerable without spending $150 (times two) on a Sleepypod (which I'm not sure would fit EmoCat anyway).. it's a little tough. So I'm left searching Amazon and Drs Fosters and Smith. Which is an eye-opening experience, to say the least. I can hear DamnCat sharpening her claws as I dare to even look at this. And please, please shoot me if I ever buy a stroller for my cats.

meh.

I have little to say beyond I gave myself a home manicure last night (OPI Jade is the new black), debated what color to dye my hair, and removed my little citrus trees from the threat of frost/ freeze. Got to love springtime in Pittsburgh-- the random 80 degree days fool the n00bs.

Anyway, I'm killing a little time before I can sally forth and get the final signatures I need so I can graduate. So here are some cute pictures of the brats.

OW.

Dear Tidy Cat,

I broke not one, not two, but THREE nails down to the bleeding quick just trying to open your product. I don't believe that you'll be seeing any more of my money again any time soon.


The sacrifices I make for these brats.

Balm for disappointment: two cats.



Hm. Those disapproving looks. The physical proximity. Shit. They're obviously conspiring against me.

A short story of boots, cats, and Gremlins

These were my boots, my favorite Docs, as of yesterday afternoon.



They are blue, they are well worn, they are perfect. So perfect that I want a pair in green to celebrate my masters come this May. But I wanted to change out the laces. I've had the Union Jack laces in for over a year and a half. My other laces are red "plaid", like so.



Of course, Pete couldn't let a good lace go without tasting it first. He eats saltines and doughnuts, plastic and shoelaces. But not actual chicken or beef or pork.



Zizi has nothing to do with this story beyond observing and wishing swift death upon Pete.



But I did want to observe how much she resembles the Brain Gremlin from Gremlins 2. Because she scares me at times. Most times. All times.



Look at my DamnCat and try to unsee it. I haven't been able to for going on seven years.



HYPNOCAT!

know thy audience

Yeah, I know, I'm interested in relatively obscure issues, and pretty much none of my cabal of readers can really get excited about this kind of stuff. It's okay. This is more me working out ideas about stuff I think needs to be addressed (and hopefully I'll be in a position to address it), things I want to just get down before I forget.

So here is a cute picture of Pete.

For sale

Two spoiled rotten but ridiculously adorable cats. Not shy about voicing demands for fresher food, treats, catnip, toys, or your attention-- will cry non-stop until you comply. Will destroy dresser drawers by insisting that the drawer can support their weight plus the additional force from jumping. Convinced that the bathroom trash can contains mysterious secrets despite its apparent emptiness. Will chase laser pointer in circles or play fetch with pompoms and fuzzy mice, yet highly selective about toys. Definition of toys includes earrings, screws, cell phone components, digital camera components, USB drives with the only copy of a file you need, measuring spoons, and contact lens cases; definitions do not include the $10 Christmas stocking full of what humans consider toys. Will chew on the professor's materials you were loaned to read and make the USB drive with your essential files for that professor disappear.

Your failure today can fuel your journey to success tomorrow

My horoscope today says that I will fail abjectly, but it's okay because I might succeed tomorrow. Metaphorically speaking. Now I remember why I don't read my horoscope.

My impromptu bathroom redux is supposed to be finished by tonight. It involved rehabbing the exterior wall from the interior. Personal cost: a week and a half of constant phone calls, work people in my apartment daily, two injured orchids, various cleaning supplies appropriated by said workmen for the bathroom (like my pot scrubber?!), my kitchen and living areas covered with supplies and the removable contents of my bathroom, and almost a week of showers in a very chilly shower that has plastic sheeting in lieu of complete walls. And plaster dust EVERYWHERE. Ick.

Oh, and Pete has been living chez parents for almost a week. Les parents threaten to keep him because really, he is that lovable. It's depressing to realize that such a lovable lump came within a whisker of euthanasia. It's even more depressing that Zizi (who has weathered the construction in place as she refused to go) is such a selectively affectionate thing that she would most certainly not survive a shelter. Nobody but an idiot like myself would appreciate her personality. Or discover how madly affectionate she can be when the mood strikes. She is the embodiment of a one person cat. Hopefully I can reunite Pinky with the Brain again tonight.

School continues to march to its inexorable end as December approaches. Dear god, so much to do. It's really annoying how I keep having that nagging sensation of knowing less as I learn more. Will it ever stop? The pressure to find a job-- not just A job but THE job, THE job that justifies this going back to school thing-- also grows in the back of my mind with the sure steady growth of a waterfall of stress. In the midst of this all, I've had super odd bursts of creativity. Super. Odd. As in, I entered an entrepreneurial competition even though I have zero intention whatsoever of owning my own business ever because I have an excellent idea for a business. That kind of weird creativity. If only I could harness it into helping me finish my actual class work and fellowship applications.

I can't believe it's been 2 years since I brought home EmoCat!

Two years ago today, I brought home a pathetic, malnourished, mostly bald, stinky, filthy cat to foster. Why? He needed a foster home where he could recover, put on some weight, grow back some fur. I needed another cat like I needed a hole in the head. Of course, I brought him home.



And two years later, he's still here.

living and/ or dying

First, let's look at the carnage a few weeks out.



The phal on the left has sustained root damage and has already lost three leaves. The remaining leaves are turning yellow, which, yeah, not a good sign. The phal on the right is doing slightly better, though the pleating on the leaves is troubling.



This dendrobium had put out a ton of growth in the past year, so it's really painful to see it in shreds. Some of the canes may survive, if they can grow out new roots to replace the dying/ dead damaged roots, but it will probably be a while before I see another bloom if it does make it.

Our culprit? Peter, Peter, orchid eater.



Le sigh. No, really, it's depressing to see this happen right when I thought I was really getting this orchid growing thing. I do have two new additions to the family-- phals both, but you have to start somewhere.



I don't know if this phal is a miniature or not-- time will tell.



This one is a respectable-sized phal-- a real departure from my preference for miniature orchids. But I thought the color was striking. Neither plant is exactly "special", but it's another 8 months until the orchid show.

requiem

So one or both cats (I have my suspicions) got into my orchids while I left them to drain overnight. And there was... carnage. Years of ignoring my orchids, then sudden slaughter. I'm a little better now, but I'm still looking at losing possibly half of my collection, maybe more. I'd guess $150 or more to replace, because they're small but uncommon hybrids.

It's depressing. It's like having your cat or dog eat your hamster or fish, except I've had some of these orchids longer than a hamster or fish lives. My oldest orchid, my blue dendrobium (which had put up two new canes this spring) had all of its leaves mangled or ripped off entirely.

There are those who think I'm silly, melodramatic, or just plain nuts for getting so upset. It's just a plant. But orchids... orchids are different. Phalaenopsis in particular are sold as though they are a slightly longer lasting cut flower-- alive, but disposable. And that's how many people view these flowers. But to keep an orchid not just alive but thriving and growing, to appreciate the strange-looking plants they are when not in bloom, to coax them to produce the strange organic sculptures that are their flowers again and again... it's not just a houseplant. It really is like keeping exotic saltwater fish. Your run of the mill philodendron, or spider plant, or ivy? Nice (I have at least one of each myself), but nothing like this



or this



or this bad boy (which was mercifully untouched because it's so tiny)

Saturdays are for planting

The plants from Tasteful Garden arrived this week. They seem to be mostly okay, but rather tall and leggy-- the tomatoes already need cages tall. There were a few substitutions-- a regular Italian eggplant for the Bianca di Rosa eggplant, and Carmen, Lipstick, and ruffled red peppers instead of the Italian yellow bell, Mini red bell, and Italian red bell peppers. The tomatoes came as expected (San Marzano Redorta, Classica Roma, Italian Sweet Beefsteak heirlooms and sweet million hybrid), as did the itty bitty basil and large horseradish. Some of the plants already had flowers, like the eggplant:



All of the flowers were removed shortly after planting to encourage root growth, of course. There was also a RED strawberry already.



I sowed cilantro seeds, and... I think we're about done with the planting for now. The spinach and lettuce have been the only real disappointment so far, and that's more due to slow growth than anything else. So here we are...





In other news, it's weird being at my parents' house. When I did live there and maintained the current garden as an herb garden, Lucy would sun herself in the mulch while I worked and rolled around on top of the catnip and any plants unfortunate enough to be nearby. I'm not sure what to do with her cremains. I don't know what part of my parents' yard is not going to be dug up at some point in the near future, and it's not really "my" house anyway.

Grr, frost

Today is technically the last frost date. Of course, we went from 80 on Friday to a freeze last night and frost tonight. Lovely. Here's how things looked on Sunday:

The rightmost side, with radish bonanza



The left side, with the strawberries that ate Export



I'm starting to think that the cow manure I put on the strawberries came from cows on Three Mile Island. The strawberries are huge, spreading at a frightening pace, and scaring me a little. I'm afraid the plant will be sentient soon.



The beans have shot up, and zucchini are in.



Of course, the cats are interesting in all the activity. Oh, did I mention the catnip?



As the elder statesman, Tiger prefers to just sun himself and watch.

trying to find the beat again

It's a little hard to write at the moment. I know that life goes on, but everything just seems so trivial right now. Meh. I don't want to do my laundry, especially the sweater I was wearing the last night that still has some of her fur on it. It's as if once I wash it, she'll really be gone instead of me just pretending she's at my parents'. I know there are those who would say it's just a cat, get over it. But I grew up with pets as part of the family, and you don't just get over losing something-- someone-- that was a part of the family for twelve and a half years overnight. Not if you have a heart, anyway.

Pete & Zizi are probably ready to be rid of me for all of the extra attention they've been getting (though I doubt they mind the extra treats). But in about 48 hours I return to working full-time for the first time in almost a year. How strange. School is work, but I can do homework on the couch and fight Pete for my highlighter cap. And I can sit around in my pajamas doing it (much like I did for certain marathon writing sessions...).

We did have a frost advisory last night, so there was a quick moving of the container plants indoors and hurried instructions to cover the garden. Hopefully everything cam through okay. That's spring in Pittsburgh for you-- it can hit into the 80s and bump up against 90, but there's still a good chance that a late frost will catch you off guard.