Gray Cats, Black Dogs, and Cephlopods

I have a pair of gray cats. I got them both from different shelters, about a year apart. The older one is named Smokey Topaz, for his fur and striking eye color.

The younger is Theodore Roosevelt because he's a bully little cat and I didn't want to call him Winston. Also, he's sort of fat so we speak softly and carry a large cat.


A few weeks ago, Smoke ran away. He's been an indoor cat his entire life, all nearly 13 years of it. I had to borrow a trap from the Humane Society to get him back in the house because he was so freaked out by the Big Blue Room. His geek tan was gone, he was running a fever and something had bit or stung him on the nose, causing it to swell badly. So Smoke had to visit the Cat Hospital, which is just about his least favorite place on earth.
The vet told me he was ok, except for the nose. I was told to take him home and feed him these little pills everyday for a week and he'd be fine. I took him home, opened the cage door and he took off like he'd been lit on fire. I didn't' even SEE him for over a week, although I was fairly sure he was in the house as I heard heart-tearing mewling every night. Eventually I cornered him in the workshop and got him pinned in a small bathroom with food, water, and a litterbox. Vet was called and informed me that cat might be slightly feral due to basically having a kitty break-down and I'd have to start civilizing him from the beginning. So it's brushing and gentle conversation and attempted petting every other hour or so. I have yet to get a pill into him, but he's starting to trust me again. One step at a time.

This, mixed with a few other things going on, combined to make me feel really bad last night.My Celtic ancestors sometimes referred to it as "chased by a Black Dog". In the Appalachians where some of my folks are from I've heard it called "a Black Dog on your porch". I was in that spot where you don't want to talk to anyone, but you NEED someone to come a tell you it's all ok. Crippled by my own inability to ask for help and locked in a place of self-hate I did what most people I know do. I went to the internet.

I tried funny cat pictures, I tried looking at costumes, I tried chatting to people on-line. None of it helped. Then I decided I just needed to make something, anything, as long as it was small, cute, and fast. I popped over to Ravelry and found this pattern for a Crochet Octopus
This pattern was fast, it made sense, it was well shaped and 2 hours later I had a cephlopod. I messed the head up a little so it doesn't know if it's a squid or an octopus, but it's darn cute. I'm going to give it eyes and a name sometime today.

TL:DR "Kitty pictures and Cute Crochet!"

Iced Coffee: Cold Brew

So it appears to be summertime. It hasn't been as hot as usual here yet, but I know it's only a matter of time before the roads get melted around the edges again and the cats beg me to shave them. How can a dedicated coffee drinker like myself manage to survive in such a harsh environment? I'm so very glad you asked.

This link will tell you all kinds of useful information on how to cold-brew coffee. I've heard of it referred to as 'toddy' or 'gravity-brewed' coffee as well.
I did mine a little bit differently from the link. I used a thermos I had handy that holds 6 cups of water with a little room left over. I added 20 scoops of a medium roast coffee, capped it, shook it a few times, and left it on the counter overnight. The next morning I poured it into the basket filter on my coffee maker, then poured that through again, making sure to have a clean filter in place the second time. The regular grounds I used were all caught by the first filtering, but I did it twice just in case. Then I poured it into a small glass jar and stuck in in my fridge.

What this means is you can always have a quantity of cold coffee starter in your fridge, so you don't even have to operate the coffee-maker first thing in the morning. Just add milk (almond, soy, or cow) and you have a lovely summer beverage that used no electricity and added no heat at all to your home. Ice cubes and a shot of caramel simple syrup will raise this to a whole new level, if you want to spend a little extra time and wash a pot afterwards.

Candlemas 2012 "Spanish Gown"

I promised a few pictures of the Scavenged Dress and these are the only ones I still have. You can see the square neckline doesn't quite work out, but on the whole I'm rather proud of this, considering I didn't buy much of it for this project at all. It's not actually too short for her, she was still getting used to walking in hoops in the wind in the second picture.

Change and Fear

On the 12th of May, this very Saturday, I'm going to get up very early in the morning. I'm going to put on the make-up, beat my hair into submission and possibly make an attempt to wear pantyhose. I shall throw myself into a car for an hour's panicked drive to get to a large room where I will sit for a few hours in a giant poly-blend sack of black fabric. At some point, I really hope someone will call my name, I'll walk across a stage, shake hands with a guy who is in on the joke, and pick up a roll of paper.
I'm going to walk the stage at commencement.

The whole idea of this scares me to little pieces.

First of all, I'm not actually graduating on Saturday. There was a small problem with the school's computer and six advanced credit hours have vanished from my transcript. It's a real shame, but the school just can't seem to do anything about it so hand over another $2000 and take two more classes this summer.I've already made arraignments with two wonderful professors who have been kind enough to let me do independent studies this semester. That's the joke bit. I'm not sure if they will call my name Saturday or not, but even if they do one of the professors I'll be working with is the guy handing out the degrees. We both agree it's a farce, but it's a well-dressed one.

Secondly, I've been going after this degree for a long time. Since 2004 off and on, I've made the push to get this degree and go on to grad school. I tell random people in the street that I'm living my dream of getting education. But really I have no guarantees, any more then the next student. Will I get the job I want? If I do get it, will I be able to pay for the loans I have to take to get here? I will have spent 11-12 years in school working towards my goal and I am approximating 2-3 years worth of income to pay for each year of that schooling. I have made the choice to mortgage my life. Is it the right one?

Thirdly, I'm human. I have yet to meet a single human in my whole life who really likes change. Some folks talk as if they do, but even they usually have something at their core that they want to leave untouched. I'm actually a stick-in-the-mud boring sort of person who isn't into change at all. Sometimes my idea of boring isn't the same as the neighbors, but I consider my life happily sedate most of the time.

More then anything else, I don't feel like I've earned this. I don't feel that I have the right to walk across that stage, take the paper, and say "I did it!"

But I have done it. I made myself go to school, even when I was working 60hr weeks and had the lead in a big play. I studied for midterms by my sister's hospital bed when my niece was born and for finals while waiting for the doctors to call about my father's heart. I did all the paperwork, all the jumping through hoops and financial fol-de-rol that the government thinks I needed. I even kept up on my work during an IRS audit. Through literal storm, flood, and fire I drove over 100 miles a day to get to and from class. I had emotional and financial support from my husband and parents, but I did this. I have made it happen and I will see it through to the end.

And in the fall I will start on my graduate school at the University of North Texas, working to be come a digital archivist. I'll finish that too.

"We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face... we must do that which we think we cannot."
~Eleanor Roosevelt