Jane and I got to figuring that neither one of us have walked much more than the length of the house or the circuit of the garden path since before last November. Except one foray when we visited Patty, and may have walked 2 city blocks, but were pretty done in. The frozen-up joints and tendons just haven’t cooperated. We’ve moved about, but it’s entailed limping, and at times it’s been so bad I’ve had to stand on one foot and hold to counters to fix dinner. Jane’s been as bad.
Finally, however, once-weekly PT has made a breakthrough, and the first cruise made a breakthrough—the simple matter of setting us to do something we so badly wanted to do, on a moving boat, and with food and drink involved. The next PT went really well. Then we got back on the boat, and I got brave enough to tackle the super-tall stairs with two drinks in hand, not using the rail. Made it. Jane met me at the top and took one, which so upset muscle tension that I went ‘twitch!’ and slopped a little of the drink I was still holding, but otherwise I made it. And did it several times more for food, using the rail this time. I still don’t ‘stand’ well. I had to give up until the line thinned down. Standing, lifelong, has been something difficult for me; but hey, I got through a 15 person line for the food. And got up on deck again.
So how do we maintain this? Walking the block. It’s a short block. About half-sized. But it’s uphill. Tried it yesterday and both of us were panting and I had broken a sweat, but both feet were working, both legs’ muscles were remembering what to do. We did it again today and were not panting, and did not break a sweat. That fast, something better. So there!
We’ve resolved to keep at it.The weather may be turning, and I think I’m going to order us a couple of umbrellas, but I want to keep at this until we can walk to the shopping district again. Which we used to do.
So — There is a much hoped for 10:30am vet appointment tomorrow, with the vet’s office duly cautioned that I have had trouble thus far getting there. They said that if they have enough staff on hand, they can maybe work something out, if this one does not pan out either; they’ll just need to find a time when they could pick me up. But the goal is 10:30am tomorrow, and one of those iffy friends has said he’ll pick me up. I have heard that before. I really hope we can make it this time. And the thing is, I don’t think they are really bad guys. I think they have good intentions and don’t realize what it is like from my end, or how often this happens. I hope at some point, I’ll have more friends to distribute the load when I need favors, for support and friendship and social contact, and just for some plain old fun sometimes. I have realized how very solitary I have been for too long, and some of the roots of that, going back early in life. I want and need things to get better. I could have anywhere from 10 to 48 more years on this planet if all goes well enough. I really, really need things to change, to get better, if I’m going to have a decent life. Oh sure, I’m introverted, I am something of a loner and I like and value that. But even a loner needs friends and needs to live with other people around. Roommates / housemates, friends, new created / chosen family, heck, maybe even someone to love? I need and want this. I don’t know why it’s taking so long to change this or why. I don’t feel it’s only from my side, though. Just…I’m tired of it being like this too much.
Anyway, I am considering this is a new leaf, yet another try but new, so I hope we get Curry and Goober taken care of. This must happen. They need treatment and their shots. (I’m hoping Goober is fine.) (I’m hoping Curry has no long-term issues and that somehow, against all odds, he will be fine.)
No recurrence so far of his trouble (accidents) Friday or Saturday night. But he still has this chronic loose stool. He might be, very gradually, learning about keeping his claws in. He absolutely still wants Outside! mornings and evenings. So…I’m going to ask that he get a good home somewhere where he can be outside and free. I wish I could keep him, I like him despite his behavioral issues. But he wants to be out, not cooped up, and dang it, I don’t want my door closed all the time and Goober locked out for no reason of his doing. I miss having him with me at night on the bed.
So…hoping the fourth try is the charm, and we can finally get their checkups and get Curry’s case resolved, so he can be healthy and really happy long-term. I want to know, even if there’s a long-term issue, that he’ll be OK and have a good life. I wan that for him, even though I feel he needs a home where he can be outside when he wants.
More laundry, still not caught up with the backlog, and it’s taking from 2.5 to 4 days for every two loads to dry fully, sometimes soured, ugh, which means rewashing if it’s sever, because, ugh, that bothers my nose severely. But gaining on it. Pecking away at other things, trying to make progress and keep this going. If I can reduce down and get things truly ship-shape for the holidays, that would be so ideal.
I am also fighting severe discouragement with my overall situation, and trying to keep positive and productive and going forward. There has got to be a better resolution to all this, back to a good life again. I still could pull out of this OK. Worried very much about making an income fast enough, though. So…same-old, same-old.
Laughs: The apartment inspections are supposed to happen this week, from the 24th (tomorrow) through the 26th, or else from Wed. to Friday. (I think they mixed up their dates on the note put on everyone’s door.) Hoping it’ll go fine, but I’m feeling kind of put upon at this point. I’m doing all I can. — If it’s like the last “inspection,” all they did was walk through, hardly glancing, and when I asked, hey, don’t you need to look at x, y, and z? Oh, no, we’re just looking for obvious damage. OK…. So this may be a non-event like last time.
My life is so weird. Neither Mr. Right nor anyone else has shown up at my door, except occasional deliveries. Oh well. On the plus side, no charging tyrannosaurs or rhinoceroses, no alien hordes bent on devouring or enslaving humanity, and no dystopian nightmares beyond the nightly news coverage. So…I guess I’ll count it a win. — If Mr. Right did show up, I hope I’d have sense enough to know it and not slam the door or ignore him…. Meh. I probably wouldn’t know what to do at this point if friends did show up.
Trying to stay on the positive side. Last week was very rough. Hoping for better this week. Trying, still.
This may be a little off topic, but…
The UK Supreme Court decided unanimously this morning to smack down Boris Johnson’s attempt to override Parliament.
Lady Hale is the President of the Supreme Court, and I just loved the large silver spider she wore prominently on her black dress as she was delivering the judgment!
Video:
The prorogation is unlawful, void, and of no effect
I wonder if she was trying to send a message? 😀
I’ve seen so much news about the awful mess that is current US politics, that I haven’t followed what the UK political mess has been doing. I’ll likely like seeing what their court had to say. — I wish we could wake up from the current waking nightmare and get back to, ah, democracy rather than threats to it from factionalism and corruption within, among the other things going on.
Curry Update — I am just now sitting down to let my soul catch up with my body. Goober’s in the bedroom with me, though I may have to set him out into the living room before I can sleep, which is needed.
We made the vet appt. on this 4th attempt. The numbers must have been fortunate or the stars must have aligned in their courses or some such. The friend was galvanized into action and things went as needed; and the vet’s office is closer than he’d thought. Quite fortuitous.
Heh, well, my ideas of what would happen versus actual events turned out to be rather different, but that’s OK. The two cats are now worth rather more in coin of the realm, which only concerns me as it reduces the amount of same in my account. Easy come, easy go.
Goober and Curry have their annuals / booster shots as needed, and Curry will need another round at least before he’s done. Good. Both were, ah, given deworming medicine, with a follow-up visit to give them more in two weeks. Also good. We are to determine then if Curry has any other issue going on, as his weight and temp were quite fine. — The vet estimates he is 9 to 12 months old, not the 6 to 9 I had guessed. He is certainly due for neutering, but that needs to wait until he’s entirely parasite-free and loose stool / diarrhea (any other intestinal stuff) are resolved. OK, cool, and the fee for neutering is not as steep as I would’ve thought.
We discussed whether to give him up for adoption or keep him. The vet, given that I’m legally blind and she doesn’t yet know me well, and given Curry’s behavior as outlined, was concerned and recommended I give him up for adoption to a home where he could be out and could have more work done to socialize and train him away from his behavioral issues. These may lessen once he’s neutered, but he’s old enough that he may retain these. Well, dang, but I had resigned myself to this, even though I didn’t want to.
The catch is, they are pretty much full and most other places are, so they gave me a list of numbers to try for places to adopt him out. — I managed to leave the bags with receipts and information at the vet’s office when my friend finally picked me up, so I’ll need to go back by (hoping tomorrow) to pick that up. If Curry is still with me in two weeks, we’ll pursue further shots and if he’s parasite-free, not having issues, he’ll be neutered. (Sorry, buddy.) He’ll also have another round of shots, which should do hm until the next year.
We have to wait until two months after there is no contact between them, after Curry is adopted out, to get Curry and Goober tested separately, but needed, for FeLV and FIV, which are Feline Leukemia Virus and Feline Immunodeficiency Virus, the two big concerns for cats along with others they now have shots against. — Feline Leukemia Virus is peculiar to cats and has been known about since I was little or before. FIV is broadly similar to HIV, so much so that it’s used as a study comparison, so tests on either virus may help decipher both. Cats can live for years with FIV before it does anything, unlike HIV. Note, FIV doesn’t affect humans, it’s feline-specific. Cats living together may not always pass it between them, but blood or sexual contact are risks for cats for this. (My two cats prior to Goober, one was FIV+ and one was FIV–, brothers.) So I am aware of this possiblilities there.
The vet recommended waiting until after there’s no further contact between Curry and Goober to test them, due to incubation and due to the ongoing risk that either one could get either illness from the other as long as they are still in contact.
Note that Goober tested negative for worms, but got medication to be sure he does not get them. — And ideally, this will clear up Curry’s chronic problem and let him feel better.
I cam home and emptied and bleached their letterboxes, and will mop later.
So… Curry is likely to be adopted out, and Goober is of course staying. We are on our way to wellness and health, and we’ve knocked out the chance of several things already by the usual needed vaccinations. I am still hoping Curry and Goober might have escaped anything more serious.
Curry did remarkably well at the vet’s and Goober did very well, with only one bit of passive-aggressive but quite determined resistance to getting the oral medication. He got dosed, so we’re good until the appointment two weeks from now.
Curry is still banned from my bedroom; certainly until he’s parasite-free. If I could be sure he could drop the bad behaviors and be trustworthy about the bed and carpet, I could keep him. But unless he really changes, he’s going to be adopted out.
And… my plans are and the vet recommended, that since Goober is a very senior kitty and non-assertive, that he should be a solo kitty with me from now on. — If I were to adopt another cat, the vet recommended a “test drive,” which is a good idea. — I’m leaning toward letting Goober have me all to himself and vice versa, to avoid stressing him out or unfair treatment to him by another cat.
So… well, all in all, a good outcome and now I know the plans forward.
Tomorrow, I’ll need to pick up the items I foolishly, hurriedly forgot, plus send items off in the mail, plus hmm, somehow the apartment complex had lost track of their masters key for my apartment (!) and so, no maintenance got done today. Getting the key copied depends on when I can get over there tomorrow, so maintenance can occur.
So… we had to wait twice the amount of time my friend estimated before he could pick me up, which meant he was going to be late to pick up his kids from school. I got home and did tasks so the cats (I hope) can’t get reinfested. (Poor Curry, but he should get better now.)
So… all in all, petty good, a win.
Curry and Goober are both back home with me and were fed. I’m tired from chores and running around.
Got a good impression of the vets from the list and others I met who had brought their pets in for treatment.
I became instant friends with a very big lummox of a dog who could just as easily be a highly effective bodyguard to his owner. Instead, ah, the dog thought I was super. Haha. But not super enough to agree to go in the vet’s office for treatment. — Word was, 79 pounds of big, strong, hefty male dog, refusing to budge, therefore he was slided across the floor to the door to the back offices, LOL. His owner was a young black woman, maybe hardly more than college age, petite, thin — The dog was nearly bigger and stronger than she is. Heh. But devoted to her, despite that he didn’t want to see the vet. And apparently he thought I was pretty great too, which was, haha, almost a predicament. But which was sweet and funny, and a nice ice breaker. I didn’t catch the young lady’s name, but oh, if I see her or her dog again, I’ll sure know who they are. LOL. (I am not sure of the breed, maybe a mastiff. 79 pounds, the tech reported, all muscle, handsome dog, blocky build and head. And in his case, quite sweet-natured. But I’d bet if he thought someone was going to hurt her, that could change in an instant to devoted defender. Anyway, he liked me, and schmoozed for attention. Silly big lummox. 🙂
I will be very, very glad when Curry’s bodily functions return to normal. — But his weight and temp were fine and he’s been eating and drinking heartily to make up for it. So all is well so far. I’m very happy with this, the expense was, er, expensive, but unavoidable, needed, and worth it. They are both here at home, and things are as good as they can be for now. Win-win, I’d count that. Hoping for better news down the line.
If Curry could learn to behave and not purposefully misbehave, I could likely keep him. This is the only sticking point. — But as long as he is here, he will be family and crew. This, at least for animals, means something sacrosanct to me. I violated my own principles with Smokey and intend never to do that again. So for while he is here, Curry belongs here, this is his home, family, and crew. And I am glad to have him back home, even if it’s temporary. I still wish somehow he could prove himself so it could be permanent. And maybe at least I can get him a little better off, socialized a bit more.
They all remarked how beautiful a cat he is, and he behaved great, they said, for his visit. So…well, we’ll see, but likely, he will get adopted out, and as soon as I get back the papers I left there (duh) we will make progress on that.
Curry Update 2 — Well, that was a brief euphoria. I don’t know who I’m more disappointed with, me or the cat. — Curry had been so good today, and was so quiet after getting back, that I thought I’d let him in the bedroom with Goober. This was a Very Bad Idea. Curry prompts peed on the bed again and was banned permanently, with no unkind words as to his character, only, “Oh, no, no, no, how could you?” as I picked him up, plopped him into the hall, and stripped the bed down to the (thankfully indeed waterproof) new mattress protector. As the old one is still drying, I put on the other new one (friends wonder why I have extra bedding). Scolded him when I took the smelly sheets and bedspread to the washer. Reassured Goober, while making the bed, that he was a good kitty and it wasn’t his fault. The bedspreads will be washed in the morning, though the wet one will likely be washed, despite the late hour, before I go to bed.
Goober is going to have to sleep outside the bedroom, since I’m not putting a litterbox in here on a carpeted floor. He’s done nothing wrong, but I don’t expect him to be able to hold it all night, or even a few hours, when he needs to go.
So finding Curry a new home or foster home, where he can be outside and where he can get training for better behavior around humans, will be a high priority until done.
Dang it, kitty, I should have known better than to do that, and you should have known better than to do it either, since it’s been about a week since you were last in either bedroom except to be escorted right out. — So he’s banned from the bedrooms and must stay in the rest of the apartment, with tiled floors.
That bed has not been changed that often in I don’t know when. I’ve learned my lesson not to trust a cat not to repeat that, and not to be so smitten so soon, by a new stray cat. — But almost all my previous cats have been strays, and those who weren’t, were given to me, either rescued or free cat/kitten needing a home. So I didn’t think this would be a problem.
Darn it, Curry, I sure fell for that tonight. I should have known better. I have not gone overboard with him, just told him definitely no, bad kitty, don’t do that.
I’m disappointed. I had this glimmer of hope he’d somehow fit in after all. But no, he needs someplace else. I still think he could have potential. He has a sweet and well behaved side. But that feral side is too ingrained still. I am disappointed.
After Curry is placed, it’ll be just Goober and me, likely for the rest of Goober’s life. If he hasn’t picked up a problem from his time around Curry, Goober may have longer than I’d thought. I’ll know more with their next checkup.
Me and my big ideas and soft heart. :-/ But it’s better to know now, and get Curry a better home suited to him. He deserves that.
Oh dear. Bad ol’ puddy tat!
I would guess that the kids being on their own so much is fantasy wish-fulfillment for the story purposes, for the younger readers’ wishes, and/or for the writer’s wishes to have been more free and active as kids.
One of the few times I was a sitter for kids of family friends, it was the first time I had done so for those three boys, ages 4 to 12, and I was the ripe old age of 18. Since I’d had no briefing on any such thing happening, and since I would not have been allowed to do so unsupervised, even though my dad would have when he was 12 (and younger), the oldest boy asked to use the axe (!) to chop down a sapling tree in their yard. Uh…no, not happening. (In retrospect, I handled it OK, gently, but should have been more firm and definite and take-charge.) He did as I said and we were fine on that. But wow, that was one I was not prepared to hear! I think my answer was that he might be fine handling the axe, but (1) I was responsible for their safety and didn’t want them getting hurt (he assured me he wouldn’t, of course, but I wasn’t buying it); and (2) sure, it was a scrawny little sapling tree in an odd place, but I had no OK from his parents for that to be removed. So find something else to do. Nor was I going to volunteer to do it instead. I didn’t have any experience handling an axe, and didn’t want to get hurt unsupervised by someone who knew what I should be doing with it.
Later, that evening, when the two younger boys were supposed to take their bath, I was introduced to the (to me, scary) problem of one of them hitting his head somehow while the two were in there, hearing him crying, and the two of them both refusing to let me in. I was about ready to get a screwdriver and take the door off. The older brother, being their older brother and 12, was completely not bothered by any of this, and didn’t want to talk them into opening the door to let me, or at least him, check on the youngest brother to be sure he was OK. From what I’d heard, it was a genuine accident; the boys were friendly, not rivals or mean to each other. — I made sure to tell this to their mom when the parents got home. Of course, in a couple of minutes, the youngest was fine and over his hurt or scare, and they were ready for bed. — Somehow too, it hadn’t really occurred to me that I might have needed to check on them while in there. I’d only been asked to be sure they did take their baths. — That one of them could’ve gotten hurt and that I would’ve had to get the door open to check on them, shook me up, as a teen, newly adult enough to be responsible for them. — I think that if his brother had been badly hurt, the middle brother would’ve opened the door and asked for his brother’s and my help, and I suspect the two just thought they didn’t want to get in trouble, plus didn’t want me to walk in and see them in the buff. I didn’t, but I would’ve been only concerned about any possible injury and not that. I don’t remember if I said something like that to them, but I may have.
That was my most surprising experience, the few times I was a sitter. (I hesitate to call it babysitting , since any of those times, the oldest or only kid was about 12 and I was anywhere from a freshman to a senior in high school.) — Wow, that youngest boy is either 39 or 40 now; his oldest brother is, wow, 47 or 48. — OK, now I feel oddly old.
Be it noted, my dad grew up a farm boy doing whatever needed to be done. Chopping wood for a fire was common in winter, for instance.
—–
I’m still waiting on whether I’ll get to do the other errands today. Had to write an additional check and letter, since now there’s no way the first one will be processed before end-of-month. — I wonder when or if the apartment office will find where someone there misplaced the master key to my apartment. So I’m supposed to come to them, rather than them coming to me, to give them my key so they can make a new master copy. Heh. You folks really could walk over here and escort me back. I’m generally civilized and far more housebroken than the new kitty, Curry. — As long as things get done, I’m OK with it. But I did say I was “shocked” that they didn’t have the master key, and did say all I had were the two keys I’d been given directly by the manager at the time when I moved in. I suggested that they might want to check with their maintenance people or their inspectors, since those would’ve been the two who last would have had copies, and since the inspectors had used a key to enter the time before last. But wow. (I did not let myself say, hey ,don’t fuss at me for something your own people did. I didn’t do anything with that master key; I’ve never had it.)
The place got mopped this morning, but I expect to wipe down somewhere or other else, and I’m trying to keep super vigilant, because I don’t want any cat accidents lingering.
Great, 2:24pm. I doubt I’ll see that friend today. He’ll get another call tomorrow. He knew we were supposed to do these errands; he’d said he would. :-/ Ooh, I wish I could drive or bike. I would not trusting hiking on foot in this city. Way too few sidewalks or places set aside for it. Pedestrian versus highway traffic, not a good idea.
:-/ My friend was a no-show and didn’t hear from him today. I will have to call him and remind him (again) tomorrow. But a check and letter with additional tax payment now have to go out because there’s no way the first one can get there before the month-end due date that would have covered the bill if it could have been mailed on time. So I still have to get back to the vet’s and to the apt. offices.
I re-mopped the bathroom this morning. Thanks, cats. Geez. All was ship-shape for a while thereafter.
The apartment inspection just happened, and again, a brief walk-through and visual inspection and no comments. I reported what I knew needed to be fixed, but they said they’re not here for that. I don’t get what good their “inspection” is supposed to be doing. If all they do is look and they don’t actually examine anything, how are they supposed to tell if there are real problems needing to be fixed, except if it shows by eye? Not so much as a look behind, say, the refrigerator or dryer, or a check into the air conditioning access where the active leak is, which I’d reported. — I had the items written on a whiteboard in case they came while I was out. — So, whatever their report is, as a tenant with maintenance that needs to get done (reported earlier this week) and with an apparent profusion of boxes, which show evidence of having been worked on since the last inspection, and now with two clothes racks with drying laundry, :-/ I wonder what use the inspections really are. — What, do they expect to catch something unreported or chronic? Worse than my report or admitted clutter? Just by a walk-through and look-see? I don’t get this. But if they had any negative comment against me, they didn’t advise / notify me on-premises, right there to talk to them, if they found any violation I needed to deal with. If there’s something else maintenance needs to do, I do not see how they’d catch it this way. I would think tenants would report needed repairs if they know about them, and the visual inspection and walk-through, I don’t seee how that could catch anything more serious. I’m mystified. — But as far as I know ,there is no issue with me, nor anything else regarding the apartment itself. And that wasn’t enough time for me to say, hey, I suspect, since the A/C leak is ongoing, at least once or twice each year I’ve been here, I suspect there is damage and/or one or more leaks going on between the floor above me and my ceiling, and/or between the walls of the adjoining apartments.
I couldn’t delay a grocery delivery any longer and ordered for delivery tomorrow. I just can’t be away during that window of time. — Hah, and I discovered a big problem in piling grocery items in a saved cart throughout the month. LOL, (1) You get way too much in there of wish-list or “I’m nearly out of XYZ” items, along with “I am going to be, or I am out, of XYZ.” This, particularly the “yum, that looks good, I want that next time” items can pile up without you realizing it. Good thing I checked before submitting the order! I would have had a truly impressively scary bill and more than would have fit in my pantry or fridge. Hmm. — I need to switch back to twice a month grocery purchases to help combat this. — So I had to pare down the order by just over half, to a saner level of grcoeries and supplies. (Heh.) But I still needed or badly wanted what I did order, and I’m out of several things and nearly out of others, which, hey, I have to eat and clean up, so…darn it, that was more than I’d wanted to spend. — But I’ll be happy with the items, and everything will get used, so…I’m still having both sticker shock and, wow, that was way more than I had realized, in what had accumulated. — So twice a month will, I hope, do better to avoid that occurring.
I had to order extra cat litter, even though the monthly order is due this week or early next. . I’m almost out, and with the two cats, and Curry still going more than normal, this has to happen.
He’s showing slight improvement, but only slight, in that. I’m hoping tonight or tomorrow, I’ll see better evidence that the medication is easing his problem, returning him to a normal state for a cat’s litterbox habits and body needs.
— It frustrates me to have to tell people I will be by, but that I can’t promise by when, or even a day, because my friends don’t follow-through reliably like they say. If the situation were reversed and I didn’t do things when I told them I would, and their situations defended on it, they wouldn’t be happy either. So…I’m frustrated, and I don’t know how to get this across any better than I have.
The apartment offices and the vet are open for another hour, but I know I won’t see either of the guys today. This doesn’t make either office happy with me. It is not the same when you are a tenant as it is when you are a landowner or homeowner.
I have a feeling I’d love to know what, if anything useful is on that inspection report.
So my day was more “hurry up and wait, and hope things get done tomorrow that should have been done by today or before.”
I sure want the old couch and dryer out of here. I am going to get the futon in October, and I may get the electric piano synth keyboard and be done with it. Either way, the hit to my budget isn’t good, but maybe it’ll motivate me more to reach my goals to get a decent income to support myself. I am too near the tipping point where I’ll have to either move in with someone or them move in with me, but if things don’t improve soon, even that has a bad endpoint. I have to get a better solution to income and life. I feel so stressed by the whole thing, and I wish fervently I could have my own place, instead of perpetually paying rent and not gaining ownership and security towards my future.
@BCS, with the mood you’re in, be very careful of trying to buy yourself into a better mood. It’s sort of baked into the American consumerist lifestyle, that everyone deserves a little luxury sometimes, and that indulging yourself with buying that thing you’ve been wanting will make you feel better.
Though I agree with the first, the latter is problematic.
Spending money you can’t afford to get a keyboard, which then brings your financial crunch time closer, will increase your worries and stress more than learning to play it is likely to reduce the stress (as that will also take lots of time, which you then can’t spend on the other things that need to get done, increasing the guilty feelings about that); and the euphoria of getting something you wanted is very short-lived compared to the stress of a bank-book that’s even further out of balance.
I know this is a very Dutch mindset, but that doesn’t make it any less true.
You already, by your own account, have way more stuff than you need, including your guitar in the storage space that you can practise making music on once you retrieve it.
The temporary high of finding something new that you enjoy doing now, but requires a large investment up front, and which you probably will mostly give up on in a year or so (like the ball-jointed dolls), does not compare to the permanent relief and contentment if you can get your finances and your living arrangements on a more balanced footing.
So do indulge yourself in something fun, but please find something that does not require the large investment up front, like playing with the cats, or reading all those books of CJ’s that you haven’t read yet.
Something that gets you active and out of the house would be even better, even very necessary to combat the restlessness that doesn’t let you enjoy reading, if I read your life correctly – even if it’s just walking around the courtyard 20 times and then rewarding the activity with a Firefly episode on Netflix. Being stuck in the appartment with little physical activity beyond cleaning, dependendent on unreliable help to get necessary things done, would make anyone a bit stir-crazy and liable to do something excessive, just to assert your will on your circumstances once in a while. It ultimately causes more stress than it’s worth, so it’s better to direct that energy into building up stamina by walking, or something similar, even if your neighbors look at you as the eccentric guy who walks around the pool enclosure 20 times each day. It might finally motivate someone to make contact, to ask why you’re doing that 🙂.
End of Dutch parents’ household finances rant.
Regarding the inspections, it sounds as if they are checking on the renters rather more than looking for stuff that needs repairing.
I’ve heard of appartments in Amsterdam being illegally sublet as AirBnB hotelrooms (driving up prices for real low-income renters), and lousy landlords cramming 20 immigrant workers into a flat meant for no more than 4 people, putting in a lot of fire-hazard partitions etc.. A house on our street which the owner didn’t want to sell when he moved out as the market had slumped, was rented out by him to a nice young woman, who got a bad boyfriend, who set up a weed plantation in the attic and trashed the electric wiring and drilled holes in the walls to do so; which he could do because the landlord never inspected the premises after renting out the house. Once the police apprehended the grower, there were lots of costs for the house owner to dismantle things and set it back to rights. So I can understand landlords wanting an occasional walkthrough to check that nobody’s trashing their properties, even if it does feel intrusive.
@BCS, I think Hanneke is right on target. Curry also is a distraction from getting your personal life in order. Pets can be a roadblock: “I can’t do something social because I don’t have a cat-sitter.” I knew a lady by Internet who went through all the motions of finding someone, but when it came down to commitment, she had to take care of her cats and dogs and ponies and chickens, and moving from her country trailer and barnyard to get into a real relationship was out of the question.
Music is great, but any number of free or ad-supported apps can give you a new on-screen keyboard or a new musical something. You can stream Ken Burns’ Country Music from pbs.org right now.
Try Googling Houston LGBT — it looks like you have quite a vibrant local scene, including some for older and disabled. Mr. Right, as you call him, isn’t in a keyboard or in even the best book, much less deep in a litter box.
I apologize for being so damn personal.
You know, y’all are probably right on a lot of that, and some of those things, I’ve thought of, and some, well, I probably need the advice.
Each day for the past two weeks, I’ve been busy until late, bedtime, and haven’t done much else. Cleaning up after a certain new cat, housecleaning and laundry, some going through boxes and throwing some things away, and so on, have happened. I have discovered I have not been squatting enough, as doing so to clean has told me those muscles aren’t as used to that as they used to be and should be. It has not, however, resulted in any weight loss, even though I think I’m eating less and not too high calorie. But maybe that will kick in once it builds up steam. I’ve still got the momentum going. If nothing else, Curry’s arrival has done that.
He is doing a bit better. The medicine’s taking effect and his, ah, output is approaching normal, much more so last night and this morning than I’ve seen before from him. So this is good news.
I am not ready to buy that keyboard yet, and yes, if I had the guitar, wherever it’s hiding in the 3D puzzle of boxes in storage, that would give me something new musically to try.
I’m hoping the inspectors at least saw there’s been a little change in what’s in my apartment, but whether they’d actually notice anything beside the presence of the two clothes racks with laundry, haha (aarrgh) I don’t know. It is slightly neater and about as clean or cleaner. I know there’s progress, even if something big doesn’t show yet.
It could well be that they are checking for weird living situations, extra people or pets, hoarding, ah “recreational pharmaceutical or horticultural pursuits?” as much as for any obvious unreported damage. Well, it’s just me and the cats and extra “stuff” I hope to make more progress on, nothing too wild.
I’m hoping things will improve some. — I may have an update later tonight, or it may be tomorrow. Groceries are due to arrive, and I haven’t heard from that friend, so I’m going to keep trying, hoping to get other errands done tomorrow. (The groceries are due for delivery, so that will happen fine.)
If there is a Mr. Right, I really hope he can put with my current self, or likes it. He, or any friend or roommate, would have to be pretty special to deal with that, I think. But I’m more toward my former usual self than I have been in a long while. There’s progress, if it’ll get back into so habitual I don’t even think about it, once again.
Whether and how a cat is bonded to you:
https://www.cnn.com/2019/09/23/health/cats-bond-people-wellness-scn/index.html
___
This article proposes that we’re going through the third communications revolution, writing, printing press, Internet:
https://time.com/5673224/violence-history/
I think, though, it’s not just the Internet but also ubiquitous computing. I watched my local TV station’s weather earlier, and it was not just showing radar and satellite imagery, but individual lightning strikes. Fair enough, strikes radiate a lot of energy, but consider the computation required to put all that data together.
And consider all the computation required to distill the scariest, bloodiest events for the several-times-a-day or continuous horror shows news programs have become. Helicopter parents aren’t surprising when you consider all the negative things they see, and that to get a balanced view you really have to consider the “negative space”, what you aren’t seeing on the news, and maybe what you don’t see in real life but only on the news.
So, my parents let me wander around and get into trouble. When I was five or six, a bunch of us were playing in a slough which was basically the dumping ground from building the suburb. I stepped on a nail, got a tetanus shot, no harm, no foul. Maybe even a good lesson on caution.
When I was twice as old or so, we had a house on a channel, and I had a small Sabot, an 8′ catboat similar to the more widespread Optimist, but Bermuda rigged, not sprit rigged; and it had a leeboard instead of a centerboard, so it was outfitted with oars. I went out alone and rowed to a nearby wetlands. Though I tested the bottom by trying to stick an oar into it, the bottom sucked me calf deep as soon as I got out. It took me some time and effort–it seemed endless and Sisyphean–to get back in the Sabot. As soon as I got back into the channel from the wetland, a neighbor kindly threw me a tow rope and saved me the effort of rowing back home. (But, I had been taught to swim and recover capsized sailboats; my parents didn’t expect the world to be benign.)
Yay, groceries. — From now on, I’m going to go back to twice a month, unless my budget gets too tight again. Next time, I’m going to print out my order so I can compare it with what actually arrives. I OK substitutions; but I could swear two items, I did not order two of, and I’d thought I’d deleted two others. I don’t think this affected the bill, and I’m curious about one outer item, whether it was a substitution or I ordered it.
Chicken Pizzole…I think I have the word wrong after Pi-, I will find out tonight. — This is, from the package, chicken, pork broth, various vegetables, and there may be rice, I’d have to look again. I’m not even sure of the ethnic derivation: Italian, Greek, Spanish, Portuguese, or maybe more likely Caribbean islanders. I doubt it’s Middle Eastern because of the mention of the pork broth. It looked very tasty; a frozen bag prepped meal.
I see I got 2 Chicken Tika Massala meals, which are TV dinner trays rather than a bagged, frozen prepped meal. Cool, I had wanted to get a prepped version so I’d have an idea of the taste. I intend to get a recipe and try to make it myself, if it’s not a lot of prep. I had thought I’d seen a sauce jar or pouch in the store some time ago, but didn’t find it online.
By the way, I’d wanted Chicken(?) Vindaloo, since Walt had mentioned it before, but no luck on Kroger’s online site. I haven’t yet tried Amazon’s Fresh / Whole Foods Market program and don’t think I’d looked at their Pantry box section. I have never had Vindaloo and would probably enjoy it.
The Chicken Pizzole (Pizzone?) … That looks wrong too … was intriguing enough, it’s going to be tonight’s meal instead of the fish and chips (broiled fish, oven-baked fries) I’d planned. — The little Fry Daddy / Fry Baby deep fryer I have is still AWOL from the Great Reshuffle. I’m hoping to go through those “kitchen” boxes this weekend or during next week.
Nothing else very exotic. I had more frozen veggies unhand than I had thought, so getting everything in the freezer was kinda tricky, but we’re all good now.
I still need to order the supplies for the tuna recipe I think it was Aja Jin who recommended it. Discovered I should have ordered eggs too.
—–
To Walt’s suggestions — Yup, there are a couple of gay areas in town. (I was somehow clueless about this as a teenager, but also too inhibited to try to explore. A couple of friends took me out a couple of times when I had come out, to see a little, which was, hmm, very different for me, haha. (Bars are not so much my thing, more because I want to know someone better first, or get to know them; but also because, with my eyesight, dang it, it’s too dark in most bars for me. Mood lighting in a restaurant is sort of OK, but these days, nearly everywhere has gone to low lighting, which just bugs me to be able to see and navigate well.) — However, yes, I need to try some things. I am not sure “budget” or “I’m busy with other things” are really good enough excuses when “I’m too alone and my biological clock keeps ticking” and “I’d be better off with at least one or more roommates for company, plus easing the rent / buy issue.”
I think I still have a mental block going, making excuses for myself for reasons not to go out, meet people, date, and have a little fun socializing. I am not too sure what exactly it is, but man, it seems to be deeply ingrained and beyond not having enough experience or that basic loner tendency. I am going to have to push some to get past that, when I can.
But aside from the romance / dating / sex life / social life reasons — I have never had to find a roommate or had anyone ask me. I needed the help finding this apartment in a hurry, and was glad to get help. But except for my college dorm, where it was the luck of the draw from the housing department, I’ve never tried to get a roommate or move in with someone, and this was the first time I’d tried to get an apartment, and it was mostly friends driving me around, because they knew where local apartments were.
LOL, during the day, I’m not sure if anyone much would notice me walking around the grounds, except maintenance workers, or in the late afternoon, kids and a few adults getting home. Always before, I’ve exchanged hello’s or how are you’s, and it never goes beyond that because people are on their way elsewhere, their apartment or going somewhere, or busy with their own things. — So I’m still working on that. At some point, I may try sitting outside to read if the weather is good. No idea if I’ll (Today, it’s overcast, sunny, and raining off and on, but still hot, in the 80’s during the day at the end of September. I think we should be lower by now, cooler. At least by mid-October.)
So far, the month-end pet supplies order has not arrived, but it’s supposed to by the end of the day. I’m just hoping it doesn’t land at the office, which would tick off those folks.)
—–
Man, I wish those fumes would die down. Whew. Mid-morning, someone must have been doing painting or repairs, because there was a strong smell of paint or glue or solvents coming from the living room, kitchen, and hallwayy. It’s still lingering. I got concerned and looked around in case something had leaked or turned over, such as under the kitchen or bathroom sinks, but no, I didn’t find anything; in fact, the smell was less intense there. So I hope it’s from somewhere else. It wasn’t as strong outside, either. Odd.
Chicken Pozole, that was. — From Kroger’s. It’s a soup: pork broth, pulled chicken white meat, hominy, fire roasted bell peppers, a bit of potato, I think, plus lime, cilantro, fish sauce and one other sauce I’ve forgotten, chili peppers, jalapeño peppers, and a few other spices.The chilis and jalapeños are minor enough to give just a little kick, which even I liked.
CJ and Jane, this does list onions as one of the last ingredients. You could easily find a recipe and omit the onions, add in more bell peppers and a bit of celery, say, or can you bot tolerate leeks? If I had a recipe, I’d try making this. It was very tasty. My guess is, it’s Latin American or Caribbean in origin. Now watch me be way off base there. The Kroger’s bag claims that serves two, but you’d want a good hearty bread with that, maybe some rice or something else to round out the meal so you get enough after a day of work. Tortilla chips would suit it nicely too, or tortillas, either flour or corn. Any pasta noodles, Asian or Italian, would also work. I did not see garlic listed in the ingredients for the Pozole.
—–
I either have a house elf with a thing for black sneakers, or one of the cats, probably Curry, has absconded with a sneaker which was set out too dry. The other sneaker was where it should be. I searched the entire living room, then a storage bin I had gotten into when sleeping on the couch last week, and then I thought to look in the washer. Had I tossed it in the wash again? The shoe is entirely missing. Looked under the couch (only dust bunnies, no monsters, and no house elves / brownies). Just no shoe anywhere. I am very puzzled. I know I put it there.
The other pair of sneakers, also less than two years old, has some weird “slimy” thin layer on one shoe, I discovered this afternoon, when looking for the black shoe. So I rewashed the one sneaker in dish hand soap. No luck, the stuff clings to it. Weird. I am letting them dry, but expecting this is a loss. It was turned over on the floor and may have gotten wet again when I mopped, with bleach solution (water, Chlorox bleach, a squirt of dish soap). I may also try a baking soda paste and scrub before giving up on that shoe as unsalvageable. Weird, though. No, it’s not from the cat in any way that makes sense. No explanation. And darn it, those were comfortable. If possible, I’ll get the same model from Skechers. I haven’t given up on it or on finding the black shoe, but I’m mystified as to how it could get away, unless one of the cats carried it off.
If I do have a house elf or brownie, I hope he or she is the friendly, helpful sort, as I could appreciate that.
I am glad that the physical therapy is producing results. I hope its an easy winter for you both.
So… Elon Musk has just unveiled a spaceship that looks like it comes from the cover of a 1950’s SF magazine:
SpaceX’s massive Starship test rocket
Now all we need is Elon Musk posing next to it with a jumpsuit and a raygun, and a scantily-clad girl being attacked by an alien monster.
Talk about your phallic symbols!
^ Was that an exhortation? Hahaha. Yes, it’s probably a good thing there aren’t two rather ovoid tanks or engines at the tail end of that rock
You forgot the humanoid yet machine-like robot and the eager young space cadet. And possibly a cape or two. But yes, that rocket ship could easily go on an old pulp magazine cover with period-kitschy characters.
What gets me is, they are calling it a “starship” without knowing what that is. To me, a “starship” is strictly interstellar; it travels between stars with some kind of warp or jump or hyperspace propulsion. A “spaceship” is interplanetary, “between planets,” (hey, I heard that somewhere) and lacks a drive capable of star travel. I’d even say a ground-to-orbit vehicle isn’t quite in the same class as an interplanetary spaceship. It’s a lander or shuttle or pod or…some name…with design needs that an interplanetary or interstellar ship doesn’t have, unless such engines can be made small enough to fit on a small craft like a shuttle or orbiter. “Spaceboat,” maybe? Oh, that sounds forced and silly, awful. OK, never mind “spaceboats” as a term. (Oh, and to add to the fun, auto-incorrect wanted to respell that as either “spaceboar” or “spacebat.” Either creature sounds formidable enough. Perhaps there are spaceboars and spacebats menacing the square-jawed, hunky-muscled spaceman and the scantily-clad, incredibly curvy spacewoman on that magazine or book cover. (It also suggests “spacebar.” It doesn’t like spaceboats either.) Hmm, and those spacewomen were somehow terribly dainty and emotionally hypersensitive, and yet we were supposed to believe they were also coolly scientific military women who could shoot perfectly, yet always got overcome and needed rescuing. Maybe their space bikinis and chrome-plated breastplates were too tight, so they weren’t getting enough air. Also funny how the menfolk never needed rescuing, except maybe that precocious space cadet boy wonder would get himself in trouble instead of saving the ship, and he’d need rescuing, again from the incredibly overly athletic military scientist spaceman. There would be, rarely, a ship’s cat or a space dog. But hardly ever any space mice. Flatcats from Mars, though….
I can’t make too much fun of those. I loved the old juvenile novels when I read them as a kid and young teen, even though with more than one author, they were already growing dated in terms of social norms (men and women) and technology. (Ah, the redoubtable spaceman, climbing the ladder with his slide rule in his teeth, to compute the fantastically complicated ship’s course in his head, with a computer the size of a whole deck at his disposal. Or he might be armed with a big knife or a sword, besides that fancy raygun. (Rayon? No, auto-incorrect.)
——
Well, all kidding aside, I hope the new SpaceX ship works great and they get all the bugs worked out before sending out multiple missions with multiple ships. Whether it’s zipping up to the space station or headed for Mars or the asteroids or beyond, that thing needs to be more incredibly safe than anything we’ve ever built, no matter which nation’s space programs.
Meanwhile, does it need a fig leaf, or, ah, should we be proud of its, ah, prowess…? Hahaha. Ahem.
Now if he designs a real flying saucer…. 😀
(Personally, I liked the BSG Classic Cylon Raider even more than the Viper, though I liked the Galactica much better than those Cylon Basestars.)
(As much as I love old Star Trek, and as beautiful as the Enterprise and other ships are, their designs have problems: A saucer only two or three decks thick with bulges at top and bottom center? A skinny little neck piece hardly thicker than a cabin or two? A real starship would need a better use of space than that, and without those tactical weaknesses. Likewise the Klingon D-7’s long, skinny neck. But it’s hard not to love how beautiful they look.)
—–
I’ve been way tired all weekend and trying to catch up on sleep. Curry’s intestinal problems are much better, though not totally solved yet. Thank goodness. — Goober has decided that being locked out of the bedroom is a terrible oversight on my part, and took to rattling the door and meowing pitifully to be let in. Since he is well behaved, I’ve been giving him short periods for an hour or two. Hey, I can’t expect him to hold it forever if he needs to go, and so he gets let out or put out after a while. But he is happier with this, and so am I. Tomorrow, we renew reminding the friends that certain things have to get done, no matter if it’s inconvenient or not. Tuesday will be a week since the cats’ vet appointment and things still aren’t done. On the plus side, we’ve had a slight drop towards cooler temps at night and only mid-80’s to low-80’s in the daytime. So yay.)
That shoe is still nowhere to be found. If I could get the mysterious house elf / brownie to do laundry, we could work out a deal on rent, say, and he or she could have a busy pad with a mostly faerie-folk friendly human. I would love to know where the shoe is hiding. It has to have moved somewhere, but where? I’ve looked all around there, and nothing. One of the cats must have carried it off, is all I can think of. Or there’s a house elf. LOL. I’m not sure about dating a house elf, but at this point, I might not rule it out. hah.
Spacebar is, of course, the big key at the bottom of a keyboard; but it’s also name of the local watering hole(s) in Surviving Mars. Sadly, you don’t have to grow appropriate crops to operate it; at least, I don’t think you can make liquor from fungus. But remember that all fungi are edible, some only once.
I liked the reruns of Tom Corbett, Space Cadet (inspired by Heinlein’s Space Cadet), and also reruns of the 1950s series, like Flash Gorden and Space Patrol. And all the Gerry Anderson marionette series, which looked pretty bad before they made the strings disappear with CGI; the practical special effects were always good.
One of the virtues (detriments?) of living in the LA area was that it got more than half of the VHF TV channels: 2, 4, (a gap separates 4 and 5) 5, 7, 9, 11, 13; three networks, plus four independents. Nearby, like San Diego, only got the left overs, I think, 3, 6, 8, 10, 12; but in good locations, you could also pick up the LA channels.
Why no channel 1? Purely because the FCC didn’t want to put up with people fighting over the number, or so I understand.
Spaceship = a ship capable of and intended to travel in space (the environment): a broad category.
This has some extra characteristics: 1) using some form of propulsion, 2) capable of being directed where you want it to go, 3) capable of carrying some form of payload (to distinguish it from escaped weather balloons and rockets fired off to blow stuff up).
Starship = a ship capable of and intended to travel between stars: a subcategory of spaceships.
Generation ship = a subset of starship, based on how long & what form the travel will take.
‘Local traffic’ as it’s often called in SF comprises both interplanetary (ocean-going) ships and coastal/in-shore ships, like landers and tugs. These still need catchy and generally recognisable category names.
Elon was going to call his new ship the “InnerSystemBarge”, but that’s not as catchy as Starship.
Besides, Jefferson Airplane and Jefferson Starship were already taken.
iPencil? Oops, almost.
spaceplane — still might get used, but that looks more like a rocket ship than any plane;
spacebus — I was reminded of this from the old Golden Age sci-fi Walt was talking about.
spacevan or spacetruck or space-18-wheeler — well, it doesn’t really look like those either; (thinking Cowboy Bebop on that last one)
Funny how the term “Astrogator” never caught on; and we’re still stuck with astronaut versus cosmonaut.
Astrogator = navigator in space? That’s what I always interpret it as.
I.e., at least in my opinion, more of a specific function-name, like a navigator or pilot, a captain, or a helmsman/steersman, than a general designation for any space-going personnel, the way astronaut/cosmonaut is used – it looks like at the moment, even for a tourist who’s been to space. That feels wrong to me, a passenger isn’t deemed a sailor for having been on a ship, so why should a space-visitor get the same name as someone trained to work in space?
Astrogation and Astrogator — yes, navigation among the stars. The words never seemed to catch on past 1950’s era science fiction, and navigation and navigator stayed instead.
I’d agree, a tourist or passenger is still basically a landlubber, a planetsider, unless they have astronaut/cosmonaut training. (I wonder how long those two words will coexist before they’re replaced or one wins.) Spacer is a simpler word. Star-sailor does sound nicely poetic, though.
I hear Spokane just got a couple of inches of snow in conjunction with the storm that dumped four feet of snow in Browning, Montana. The weather is so messed up. In Arizona our monsoon season was a dud until the last week or so. Today is the official end of the monsoon and we’re down about 25% from our normal monsoonal rainfall. At least the temperatures here are bearable (lows in mid 50s, highs in low 80s), but we are expecting rain later in the week (a total aberration from normal October weather). We hope you all stay safe and cozy, and also that it doesn’t take too much effort to winterize the water features.
We are still in the 80’s and 90’s here by day, upper 70’s by night. The Weather service is predicting record highs throughout the South and some other areas through the weekend. Local weather predicts we’ll get relief starting next Monday or Tuesday, a dip back to the 80’s, then the 70’s, then back to the 80’s for the rest of the week after next.
That, and Hurricane Lorenzo way off in the Atlantic looks to be a monster storm. The predictions are for it to miss the Gulf of Mexico.
Stay warm and dry up north and take care!
Maybe my errands will happen tomorrow. Maybe. One week now. By Tuesday of next week, it’ll be time for both cats to get their second and final dose of dewormer, and Curry may get booster shots again. If he hasn’t been adopted out after that (oh, please, do) he should be set to be neutered about a week past that, I think. Tomorrow marks his 6th week here. The medicine is helping, but not yet down to normal output.
Goober got fed up with being banned from the bedroom, and two or three nights ago, began a campaign, rattling the door and meowing pitifully to be let in. He (and I) are much happier letting him in the bedroom for short periods, and then I find a reason to do something in the other room, so he isn’t directly kicked out. Once Curry has a new, hopefully forever home, Goober can once again have free range.
Curry is a mostly good, mostly sweet cat, but still with that feral streak needing to be Outside! so much. He has been better the past couple of days, which has let me rest a little.