While watching Zach give the cats a good workout by means of a high-power laser pointer, a thought occurred to me:
When used in a particular way, a laser pointer is essentially a virtual tether with which one can literally slam a cat against a wall.
You can also fling a cat down the stairs or even into a hapless victim’s lap as he sits distracted by his game of Super Smash Bros. Fact is, a cat will pretty much go anywhere a glowing red dot goes. They'll even do it in teams!
Whenever all four of us have to be away from the house at the same time, we make sure all the kittehs are closed off downstairs mainly because Dioji is a moody terrier and cannot be trusted. This past Thanksgiving Day was one of those times and Zach was assigned pet segregation detail. He proceeded to do this, believe it or not, by leading them all down in one big group with his laser pointer.
I was hell of impressed.
Alright, I know the title of the post made it sound like some major scientific breakthrough had been discovered. And sure, adding “major” might be too much, but Zachary’s discovery really is quite a breakthrough!
Have you ever tried to herd cats?
From Good Morning America in 2004....still good, interesting bit....
Whoa, doggies. So much snow here in Flagstaff. 26" last count. That means loads of shoveling and lots of toasty beverages.
I am considering entering the Mail Me Art competition (http://mailmeart.com/going-postal/submit-mail-art/), so I've been dabbling again in (EEK) acrylics. Been a long time since I've tried that medium. What's interesting is that my hand is applying watercolor techniques with acrylics... and I'm digging it. We'll see what happens. It's all school to me - all the foibles and weird experiments are so much fun, and since I can't be in college right now - THIS is my college. Or, maybe this is my built-in excuse for making a lot of tragic painting mistakes, the ones that I can't even stand to look at. Haha.
~C
This much cute in one place might be dangerous. CimC could implode under the combined weight of DG's good looks and the incredible cuteness in this video. I only got a B in Physics, so don't hate on me if this blog suddenly gets sucked down some black hole of adorableness.
Squeeeee!
supposed to fizz?
It took me ALL day to get the lights hung outside and to get the correct ends of the extension cords to match up so I could actually plug them in.
WHY do I bother? I don't KNOW!!! I must like Christmas lights. Sigh.
Then, I FINALLY get everything lined up and plugged in. I come in the house. *Sniff sniff* What is that smell?!?!?
Splendid. I have stepped in dog crap.
AND someone (not me) has been eating fresh cat turds out of the litterbox while I was outside.
So, I am getting whiffs of both.
If you find me hanging out in my tree by a strand of Christmas lights, don't come cryin' to me.
There’s a rather steep, winding road I take on the way to work that understandably narrows to a single lane on the downhill side. The speed limit correspondingly drops a little, as well. This all occurs shortly after a traffic light and for the next mile-and-a-half drivers are relegated to whatever position they were able to aggressively acquire during the furious Competition Merging that invariably occurs at this type of juncture.
It is the right lane that merges into the left, so you’ll usually see the BMW and CRX drivers choose it, particularly when they end up (oh-so-egregiously) stopped at the light. Their logic is simple: only the right lane provides the opportunity not to get stuck behind one of the left-lane lame-asses who lacked the foresight to buy a car that stuck to the road like an AFX* slot car. They crane their necks to watch for the cross-traffic light to turn yellow; it’s their cue to take the RPMs up to 1200 and shift their clutch-foot to the very edge of the pedal for instantaneous release.
Me, I’m one of the lame-asses, I guess. I seldom worry about my spot in the bizarre, unwritten hierarchy of competitive commuting. I’m of the opinion that making it to my destination alive, undamaged and sans citations is far more desirable than getting there seven seconds before everyone else. But you already knew I was a bit strange.
Anyway, this morning I did play the game because tooling down the hill was a dirty, fume-belching truck with a giant tank on the back proudly emblazoned with The Shit Bilge: We’ll Pump Out Your Poop! (or something like that; I didn’t have anything to write with at the time). The huge coil of corrugated PVC tubing verified what was inside that tank. I’m not sure if moving so slowly was also directly related to his occupation, but the fact wouldn’t surprise me.
For the record, I wasn’t the only one to pass him. I was behind at least a half dozen drivers making the same sensible move.
Here’s the thing, though. As I changed lanes and sped up to squeeze in front of him just before the guardrail could cave in my passenger door, I felt a little like an impatient teenager for whom driving like an asshole has become a requisite personality trait. But the guy in the sewer truck didn’t speed up to force me back behind him the way so many people do, nor did he tailgate me the rest of the way down the hill. He just took his time transporting his contaminated cargo, seemingly unmoved by the growing distance between himself and the crowd of cars in front of him.
I guess if you make your living sucking putrid body waste out of other peoples’ septic tanks, you’ve pretty much already broken and tamed your ego.
*Yeah, that’s right, I was an AFX kid. Big time. Had to save up just a little more chore money, but it was worth it not to settle for Tyco’s second-rate, schlocky slot cars.
loaves of oatmeal-heavy-on-the-molasses bread baked: 3
pots of tuscan white bean and swiss chard soup made with thanksgiving turkey stock: 1
big screen movies watched (2012-- woo! upheavals!): 1
good long walks with chris & floyd: 1
naps: 2
cups of hot cocoa: 2
loads of laundry put away: 4
hours of rolly polly puppy play time: infinite
Here I am. House smells of stir fry and so do my clothes. I'm jonesing for some rice tea. I've had a crazy fixation on hot sauce lately and consumed one two bottles of Tamazula this week all by myself. Not sure why. My little boy was super wild today and I'm not sure why that is either. I'm about to start a sci-fi book called The Child Garden. I hear my little town will be covered in a couple feet of snow tomorrow. Wheeeee! There's a good chance I will be sledding on Tuesday. I wish for more time than I have. I don't hardly ever wish a day will go by fast. Not even the bad ones. Well, maybe the really bad ones.
I've had a lot of characters flitting about upstairs in my mind. Here are just a few.
The one above is for Illustration Friday's topic: Crunchy. Funny, huh?
I just watched The Princess Bride, directed by Rob Reiner, again this week. Saw it when I was a teenager. Still one of the most wonderful films and utterly quotable! IF per chance you've never seen it... then add it to your Netflix cue or whatever. You'll love it. You can even see it with the kiddies.
Karin and I have been into this show called It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia since it started.in 2005. It's a tad lowbrow sometimes and silly and Amanda absolutely despises it. Her refusal to even be in the room when it's on should probably be some sort of barometer for me, but the thing is, every time I watch an episode of this show I nearly bust a gasket laughing.
To wit...
