My uncle always had barn cats, but they were strictly outdoor and other than vaccinations, were pretty much left to fend for themselves, albeit in a fairly cushy setup (they could go into the pig nursery barn, which is heated.)

I found out that this spring he found an orphaned litter of 3 who were barely a week old. He brought them inside, hand raised them, including the whole feed-every-hour bit which meant he got no sleep and once they were weaned KEPT them inside. Two ultimately went to live with his daughter the vet (her kid adored them) but I'm still shocked he's now got an indoor cat who won't even deign to go outside.

I'm a bad employee. I woke up this morning and thought, "I don't want to work today," so I didn't.

Intead I'm listening to the bread machine do its thing while husky young Russian men disassemble the falling-down old shed in my back yard.

Someone tell me to do some work...

This is freaky: [link]

Photographs of atomic bomb tests.

Automatic Camera situated 7 miles from blast with 10 foot lens. Shutter speed equaled 1/1000,000,000 of-a-second exposure.

So it's this freakish 50ft (or so - can't tell the scale) blob that looks like nothing I've ever seen... kinda' like a single-cell organism.

A total of three photos. They don't look real. Weird.

My dad would squirt this milk from the cow's teats into a little tin cup, and when he was done milking he'd feed this milk to the cats. But sometimes a cat would sit next to my dad, and he'd squirt milk from the cow's teats right onto the cat's face. They loved that.

My mom grew up on a dairy farm and has told me stories about her dad feeding the barn cats the same way. Grandpa sold off the cows about the time Mom went to nursing school (getting older, and only one son stayed on the farm after doing his Army service) and then passed away when I was only three, so I don't remember him at all. But, the barn still had some of the old dairy equipment there when I was a kid, and was pretty fun to play around.

Too bad the farm is now being turned into a development--I miss the apple orchard, walking through the sweet corn field between Grandma's house and Uncle Ray's, and playing in the hayloft.

This is the first day in a week where I don't have a deadline hanging over my head. My place went to shit, I need to do laundry and take out the trash and buy groceries.

I don't want to do any of it, I just want to rent a couple of movies and sip champagne and let my brain ooze out of my ear.

But what is it, tommyrot? What are we seeing? Fire? Plasma? Starfire?

But what is it, tommyrot? What are we seeing? Fire? Plasma? Starfire?

Plasma.

At least I'm pretty sure that's what it is.

Allyson, I recommend putting out the trash and ordering takeout and sitting around with champagne and dvds. Go you! I'm so pleased for you.

Trash, and enough laundry so that you have clean clothes for Tues-Friday? Then DVDs!

This is a not-bad plan for my own afternoon, come to think of it.

A Dog Man Gets a Cat

I have this book by the same author sitting on my to-be-read pile, a Christmas gift from Emmett's mom. I've poked through the introduction and the first few paragraphs of the first chapter, and it looks marvelous.

Congratulations, Allyson! Also? So not surprised.

And belated happy birthday to the pinkest and elegantest of us all.

Perkins, we should plan for another day of visiting and apartment-up-fixing, me and my drill and you and your bare windows and un-hung curtains and ginormous cats, and possibly a movie or three.