Wednesday, March 11, 2020

Stop Biting

     He'll stop biting if I stop trying to brush him, I hope.  Holden has a couple of spots of badly-matted fur and (because I'm not as clever as I think) I have made four attempts to sneak up on them with a special cat-detangler brush.  None have ended well for me.

     He's not having any of it.  Brush the nice, untangled fur along his spine?  He's generally okay with it.  Veer even a little to one side with the brush?  As  I have written earlier, he'll seize the nearest hand in his teeth.  He's not out to hurt, but he means for me to stop and right now.  He's not going to be lulled into accepting it, not even a little.

     Yesterday, I asked our vet about his matted fur and their advice is to wait until he's in shape to be lightly sedated, at which point they'll give him a trim.  The result may be something of an affront to his dignity, but it's the best way to take care of the problem.  In the meantime, I won't try to brush him at all; once he's had his haircut, Tam and I can start over with a different brush, when it won't be painful for the poor guy.  If it all works out, he'll have his thick coat back before autumn and we'll be able to keep him brushed.

Tuesday, March 10, 2020

Bookstores

     There aren't as many bookstores as there used to be.  There been some growth in small independents, and even a few used bookstores have shown up, but the big chains have dwindled; I think Books A Million is still around (but not widespread) and Barnes and Noble has been an trouble for many years.

     It's Amazon.  I feel a little disloyal writing it -- Amazon has long been both a major beneficiary of and an enabler of online culture -- but it's true.  As much as I love shopping at Amazon and the convenience of my Kindle, there's a lot be be said for going to an actual bookstore and looking, picking up and reading actual books before deciding to buy them or not. (But maybe not just right now.)

     Barnes and Noble is owned by a hedge fund these days.  The people running it have decided they'd better get some expert help.  I dislike throwing a link to that rat Bloomberg, but the new guy at the top of Barnes and Noble may be a good thing.

     We'll see.  In the meantime, visit your local bookstore -- new or used, chain or independent.  Get out there and buy a book!

Monday, March 09, 2020

Cat Update

     The house remains divided between the two tomcats, as it will until Holden completes his probationary period and finishes his medicine.  It may continue a few days past that, since he's due to be fixed as soon as his respiratory infection is over.  (Meanwhile, we have to make an extra effort with the litter boxes; an un-neutered tomcat can be a bit whiffy.)

     Saturday afternoon, I crawled under my desk and coaxed and hauled Holden out from under the bottom section of the corner shelves.  The 1920s baseboards in Roseholme Cottage are seven inches tall and I routinely build shelves so the bottom shelf is just above baseboard level.  This leaves a void, closed at the front to help stabilize the shelves. (The wall side of the verticals is coped to clear the baseboard and quarter-round.)

     The vertical support for deeper side of my corner shelves is made of two posts with a gap between them that turned out to be just big enough for a large tomcat to get through.  A space seven inches high, a foot deep and thirty inches long makes a nice hiding spot if you're a cat.

     It's difficult to get to; my big oak desk is in the way.  With just one tiny entrance, you can't remove a cat that isn't a little willing to come along.  Lured by treats after nearly twenty-four hours of hiding out, Holden was reluctant but not angry.  Once he was out and the entrance blocked off, he made his peace with the situation rapidly and was smoothing on hands and being fussed over within half an hour.

     So far, Huck has been as good as gold about the new guy.  I have taken over the living room couch to sleep on and Huck sleeps on me, as he prefers.  Holden hangs out in the office and hallway.

     The two cats do each spend some time on opposite sides of the door between the hall and the dining room, "talking" a little.  But there's no growling and neither one is camping out at the door, hoping for a fight.  They aren't greatly interested in getting through the door, either.  That's a good thing -- a combined 28 pounds of tomcat could probably made a credible effort if they were  determined to.

     Holden is long-haired and he has some matting.  He does not want his tangles messed with, and will a deliver a firm but not aggressive bite by way of saying no.  He's careful not to bite too hard; he just takes hold of my hand or wrist without breaking the skin but the message is clear.  He may have to get a haircut once the weather has warmed up.

     Holden is very talkative, at least a much so as Rannie was.  If you make eye contact, you'll almost certainly get an inquiring "Prrrr-witt?" and anything that might involve feeding receives a one-cat chorus of plaintive calls and cat and food are brought together.  After three days, Huck doesn't seem to mind hearing this; he was a bit worried the first day but he seems to have decided it's okay.

     Fingers crossed! 

Sunday, March 08, 2020

Writer's Group

     We had one of our gatherings this evening and I think it went well.  Lots of good discussion and much to learn from the manuscript we were critiquing.

     "Critique" isn't the right word -- much too fancy, for one thing.  You go through and look for narrative inconsistency, plot holes, shifting characterization, formatting issues, and so on.

     Some things are stylistic choices, but more are mistakes, overlooked loose ends and so on.  The idea is to learn how to look at writing analytically -- how to edit.  "Editors" at publishing houses, professional websites and magazines aren't going to dig through the basics for you; they don't have time.  You have to turn in finished work.  And that's what we are trying to teach one another to produce.

     These meetings had been difficult for me because I was so tired, just fatigued all the time.  The new medication appears to be working; I was never even close to nodding off.

Saturday, March 07, 2020

Paranoid Nonsense

     It's popped up on Facebook, in comments (unpublished) at this blog, in conversations at work and overheard in restaurants, any place the COVID-19 corornavirus is discussed for more than a few sentences:

     "It's Chinese biological weapon."

     This is easily shown to be ignorance or lunacy, for one simple reason: it's a lousy weapon.

     Noodling around, one of the best descriptions I found was at Wikipedia; I could give you some long, dry dull stuff from declassified DoD reports, but the language is mind-numbing to plow through and comes to the same thing:

     "Ideal characteristics of a biological agent to be used as a weapon against humans are high infectivity, high virulence, non-availability of vaccines, and availability of an effective and efficient delivery system. Stability of the weaponized agent (ability of the agent to retain its infectivity and virulence after a prolonged period of storage) may also be desirable, particularly for military applications, and the ease of creating one is often considered. Control of the spread of the agent may be another desired characteristic."

     I'll take it point by point:

     COVID-19 does look to have fairly high infectivity: you can get it about as easily as you can catch the flu.  There are lots of illnesses that spread more quickly and readily.

     On virulence -- how sick it makes you, what percentage of the targeted population (and we'll get back to that phrase by and by) it affects badly enough to take them out of action for very long -- it's poor.  Two percent mortality is militarily useless, even against a civilian population, and it's all the more useless when you look at demographics: the elderly are at greatest risk, and yet they are not soldiers, workers, officers or managers.  It doesn't appear to significantly incapacitate most others for any length of time, especially young adults and the middle-aged.  Those are exactly the groups you'd want a bioweapon to affect most. 

     Delivery system?  Coughs and sneezes are impossible to aim. COVID-19 is apparently not naturally  airborne. It doesn't seem to spread really well in affected populations if they keep their distance and wash their hands.  We'll know more as it develops, but it's not looking like something that wafts on the breeze, crawls under doors or lingers on toilet seats.  It doesn't appear that you could spread it from an airplane or even via parcel post.

     Stability/storability, it's hard to say but it doesn't look great that way; word so far is that it doesn't last long on surfaces, so it probably won't keep well in jars, either.  Anthrax spores, it's not.

     Control of the spread: Yeah, no.  At this point, if they had a way to control it, China would be quietly doing so while bragging about the effectiveness of their rapid medical response and very harsh crackdown on person-to-person contact in the affected area.  That hasn't happened, so the odds are good they've got nothing.  For this to be a good weapon, you'd need a vaccine for your own troops or a drug that would treat it effectively.  Given that all of Europe, the U. S., India, Canada and the Commonwealth is looking into a treatment or vaccine and has been since the thing started, and that's a whole lot of biomedical horsepower that will save the researcher's own parents and grandparents, not to mention spouses, offspring and their precious selves, if it's findable, we'll have it soon.  Not exactly weapons-grade performance.

     China's losing money hand over fist as long as the pandemic and their response (and world-wide worry) has so much of their industry shut down.  And their shutdown is rippling across the planet.  Does it make any sense that they have idled everybody in the hopes of, I don't know, establishing dominance over the South China Sea, tramping down hard on Hong Kong and/or seizing Taiwan while we're griping about a slowdown at the Toyota plant for lack of Chinese-made grommetage?  COVID-19 moves too slow (fast though it is) and does too little harm to most persons infected, too long after exposure, to be a useful weapon; the people who are paid to get paranoid about this have been poring over spy satellite output and comms traffic since halfway through Day One.  (And count on it, some of 'em bunkered up about supper time that day and they're still sealed up, but by now even they've got to be starting to say that it looks like just the planet trying to kill us as usual.)

     The Red Chinese government may indeed be plotting to kill us all and take over, Han Lords of the Wasteland for the Greater Good, but they've been getting rich selling us suspicious electronics and building roads, office towers, influence and totally not military bases, no sir, all over the third world.  It's working a treat so far; why would they poison a cow that's still giving milk?

     Poison gas is a much better weapon than this virus -- and it's a pretty poor weapon, especially when the wind suddenly shifts.

     If anything, this pandemic may result in some rethinking of supply chains and supply-chain resiliency.  It's unlikely to increase China's influence and will probably do just the reverse.

     Stop spreading panic.  Stop spreading misinformation.  Wash your hands.  Cover your mouth when you cough or sneeze.

It's Never The Cat You Expect

     I managed to talk Tam into interviewing some possible new members of the household.  I'd found three likely prospects at Hamilton County's no-kill shelter, all torties: Croissant, Monkey and Kigs.

     Miss Croissant was very shy.  She was hiding under a blanket in her bed (which the shelter carried out to the visiting room with her inside) and while she looked out a little and didn't object to being petted, she preferred to stay hidden.  She was anxious.  Her foster family had reported that she was very cautious but would eventually relax.  I didn't think she'd like Huck much.

     Monkey was not even interested in leaving her multilevel enclosure.  Ears flattened and all forted up in her bed.  She wasn't likely to be happy with our tiger, either.

     Kigs was as friendly as can be.  A nice cat -- but she's got limited vision.  She doesn't appear to be able to move her eyes.  I was worried a bouncy tomcat was not going to be good for her.

     I met a pretty, tiny black cat with a white tummy and white-tipped tail.  She was friendly and lovey, but so small and at a year old, likely as big as she'd ever be.  I was concerned she'd be intimidated.

     Tam was looking at a young fellow almost Huck's size, brown and gold and sable, with long hair.  We spent some time with him and he was friendly and nice.  After a lot of discussion, we decided to give him a try.  Because he needs some medicine, we're just fostering for now and he won't be meeting the Head Cat In Charge for a while.  His name is Holden.

     Holden was as good as gold on the long drive home.  Once the house was divided -- we've done this before, since Tommy refused to believe any creature except his immediate family was really a cat -- Holden emerged from his carrier, found the single most inaccessible spot in the back part of the house, and has remained there ever since.

     This may take some time.

Wednesday, March 04, 2020

Doctor, Brunch, Nap, Drugstore, Grocery

     It's the darned "nap" part I don't like.  I had a good sleep last night, woke up fine and went to the doctor.  Then Tam and I walked over to a nice place for brunch -- and darned if I wasn't worn out once we got back home.  I thought I'd just relax a bit but I was out like a light within minutes of laying down.

     Tam decided I wasn't going to wake up any time soon and made a run to the big-box store, a jumped-up five and dime.  I woke up about the time she returned, just in time to make a run to the drugstore for some new prescriptions.

     I am hopeful one of them will help with this sleepiness.  Tests suggested it might: my thyroid's about half-asleep at the switch, despite being yelled at by other parts of the endocrine system.  Been there before, got better, and now it's back.  There are drugs for that.

     Got ambitious and made a big pot of Hoppin' John for dinner -- with an Irish Banger sausage, a big ham steak cut up in cubes (I haven't seen real "seasoning ham" for years now; I need to get over to the fancy butcher and find out if they've got it), some nice mirepoix (celery, onion and carrots, cut up and ready to go -- tolja I was sleepy), fresh mushrooms, canned crushed tomatoes, canned green chilies and a can of blackeyed peas.  Cooked up the meat (sausage first), added vegetables and mushrooms, and once that was done enough, added the canned stuff and a little this and that in the way of spices.  Ten minutes of simmering and it's about as good a quick home-made dinner as you could hope for.  I had mine over rice; Tam didn't.  Hot sauce to individual taste.

     Starting the new drugs tomorrow morning.  It'd be nice to be able to stay awake.

Tuesday, March 03, 2020

I'm Off This Week

     It's a good thing I am off this week, because I am just worn out.  We walked to a neighborhood eatery for a late lunch yesterday and once we were back home, I had to lay down.  Once I laid down, I realized I needed to sleep.  So I did.

     Woke up about ten p.m. and had some supper while looking at television and at midnight, I was back in bed.  Got up at six to feed my cat, and went right back to bed until ten a.m..

     Since then I have made a pot of coffee and a little breakfast, ordered some new jeans, run a load of laundry and I can hardly keep my eyes open.

     Doctor's appointment is at eight tomorrow. 

     Also, I want a new Wu.  There's no replacing Miss Rannie but Huck and I are lonely already.

Monday, March 02, 2020

Sunday, March 01, 2020

     From 20 June, 2017:

Singing To Tam's Cat

Rannie, Rannie, Underfoot Wu,
How do you say "I love you?"
With winks and blinks and sometimes nods,
Which no one thinks is even odd.

You purr and beg for table scraps,
Or mice we've caught in humane traps.
You'll let no one tell you what to do,
Rannie, Rannie, Underfoot Wu.

     1 March 2020:

Oh dear Rannie, Underfoot Wu,
This life became much too much for you.
Slept curled at my elbow, night after night,
Wheezing and sneezing in the dim light.

Went warm to the register when the furnace ran,
Huddled there comfy and dreamed as cats can.
You left purring and smoothing while we sobbed and held you,
Rannie, Rannie, Underfoot Wu.