Petey

This has been the worst week, and I am so glad it is over and done with. I spent today writing emails and making phone calls after discovering that my daughter's school materials (which had come earlier in the week) had arrived without of couple of the key components which I will need Monday morning.

Monday morning.

As in: the office is closed until Monday. I have been kicking myself all day long.

I blame myself because I should have checked as soon as the material arrived, but I didn't because...

My husband had a pretty substantial (but hopefully very temporary) change at work, and I did my very best to be supportive. I think I was pretty successful, but I probably should have done more to stay on track in other areas. I might have made it, too, but for one thing...

The unthinkable happened, which pretty much blew the whole rest of the week for me.

My husband noticed that our kitty, Petey, was acting weird. She was actually acting super-friendly and cuddly. Petey is normally shy and retiring, afraid of everything loud and busy, especially Clementine, so it really was odd. Right after he mentioned her to me, I picked her up and snuggled with her, and immediately noticed a strange scent. Her breath smelled strangely sour - a smell I was sadly familiar with. It was galvanizing.

Petey

I lost a cat, Winnie, years ago to kidney failure, and though I didn't know it then, soon found out that the scent was a byproduct of the illness. I smelled it as soon as I picked Winnie up that morning. She was acting odd, and I asked my (now) ex-husband to take her to the vet. He did, and soon the vet called to tell me she was in kidney failure, that there was nothing to be done.

I decided to have her put down. I can't remember the details, but I couldn't go into town that day, and never saw Winnie again.

I'd had Winnie since before we had children.
Since before we lived in the country.
Since before we lived in the state, or even the state before that.
Several houses, and two children and three states away. So much crammed into so little time.

We'd been through so much and she was so loving and she died without me. She was only five. I've never forgotten it.

Our vet was in town, quite a ways from home, near my (then) husband's office, and because there was nothing the vet could do for Winnie, my (then) husband went and held her while she was put to sleep, a kindness I will never forget and can never repay. I couldn't be there, and I couldn't make her wait until I could.

So, when I picked up Petey and smelled that smell, I wanted so badly to be wrong. As the evening progressed, I was less and less able to convince myself. Petey slept on our bed, cuddled with us, and seemed so frail and weak. Petey was not old and had not been sick, and the smell... I just knew.

Dan and I petting Petey together

Dan called early the next morning, got an 8:30 appointment, and I took Petey in. Our vet saw her and gently examined her, and took blood. He told me that he was going to keep her and would call me with the results, but something in his voice told me what I didn't want to hear. I cried all the way home.

The vet called within the hour and told me the news - she was in kidney failure. Her numbers were too high to accurately measure. There was nothing he could do. He would try if I wanted him to, but it probably wouldn't be a permanent fix and... I don't know what else he said, but I told him I'd talk to Dan and call back.

Dan and I decided to have her put down. There is no way to justify making an animal suffer if there is no way for them to get better.

Dan called our vet. I laid down on the bed and cried.

We went over a bit later, and we all held her and petted her while she was eased out of her pain.

Petey's beautiful golden-green eyes

She died before the vet had finished the injection.

It was painless and quiet.

We weren't sure, right before, if Clementine should see the process. Our vet said that he thought Clementine would be okay, but that she could leave if she wanted, one of us would go with her. That's what we told her.

But Clementine asked to stay, and we are all glad she did because right before the injection, Petey raised up and nuzzled Clementine, wanting to be petted. In the moments before she died, she snuggled with Clementine, something she almost never did. Clementine has always been too active and full of energy for shy little Petey.

We all cried. I am so grateful that Clementine's last moments with Petey were good. Grateful to Petey for one last gift. Thankful and grateful to God or whomever arranges such things in the Universe for giving our small child the priceless gift of acceptance and love from our cherished pet.

Thursday, we all went together at lunchtime and picked up Petey's ashes. I've never had a pet cremated before, but I badly needed to have her back, though I'm still not sure why.

Me and Petey

Today we got a note about Petey's passing from the vet. It was moving and heartfelt. We will always cherish it.

So.

I should have looked through the material, and I have a good excuse as to why I didn't. But that doesn't really matter and now I'm kicking myself.

Having written this, though, I think I'll stop kicking myself. I think I'd rather spend my time thinking of other things, doing other things.

My cat is in a tasteful gray box on the mantle. I wish she wasn't, but I thank her for her love and companionship, and am glad to have the reminder.

My husband is home in bed, tired, after a good, productive, but slightly hectic week at work. I'm glad he's here. I hope the "slightly hectic" is ever-so temporary. I will be joining him upstairs soon. 

My sweet daughter is asleep in her bed. She asks questions about Petey several times a day. She thinks Petey is in Heaven with my Dad, and my cat Winnie, and her sister's cat, and the dog my dad had when he was a boy.

Clementine never met my Dad, his dog, Winnie, or her sister's cat. Petey gave her a connection to all those people and pets. All those souls and personalities. She knows that Petey is with them all, and is closer to them as a result.

Thank you, sweet Petey.

Thank you so much for everything.

We will all miss you and we will not ever forget you.

Humanity is for the birds...

I  usually try not to read too much into our pets when they do something which mimics human behaviour. That's known as anthropomorphism - mis-attributing human characteristics to animals or even to non-living things. It can hurt our animal friends when we come to expect them to "think" like us.

This was too much to ignore, though. It was very funny and a little bit scary at the same time.

Congo African Gray 
Used with permission (^)

I couldn't sleep last night, so I stayed up late and ended up watching an episode of a documentary series called Life After People^ on Netflix^. The series is about what the world would look like if humanity ceased to exist. How long it'll take for roads to disappear; how long it will take for animal populations to normalize, how buildings will crumble and fall, etc. All very interesting in a creepy sort of way.

Amazonian parrot

used with permission (^)

One of the people interviewed said that even 100 years after humanity disappeared, the world would still have spoken language thanks to parrots which had been taught to speak. Parrots live a very long time and can pass on learned behaviour (like speech) to other parrots. Showing footage of parrots in flight, the voice-over said that since parrots don't have an evolutionary use for human language, it would eventually disappear.

 Blue and Gold Macaw

used with permission (^)

My bird had started watching from her perch across the room as soon as the parrots first popped onto the screen. Polly is smart enough to recognize other birds and has preferences when it comes to whatever might be on the screen. She's comically self-centered and her knack for observation has allowed her to figure out how to get attention by exploiting things she's seen. She drives the dog nuts by duplicating the sound of the doorbell and meows whenever the cat walks by. She can mimic Dan's sneeze precisely.

Cockatoo

used with permission ^

So it came as only a tiny bit of a shock to hear her laughing manically as soon as the documentary voice-over announced that parrots would be around to speak long after humans are gone.

Apparenty, Polly is really looking forward to the end of human-kind.

 Macaw, possibly a Catalina

used with permission (^)

Let me take a moment to say that none of these birds are my bird. I'm posting pictures of these pretty birds because my bird doesn't like it when you stick a camera in her face and we don't antagonize her needlessly.

My parrot was rescued when her previous owners, who loved her dearly, could no longer keep her. She'd started mutilating and had plucked nearly all of her feathers out due to stress and boredom - her previous owner's lives had changed and they no longer had time for her. She looked like a raw, plucked chicken when we got her, but she looks fine now. It has taken us years and a lot of work to persuade her to stop mutilating herself.

She's still moody, grumpy, and bitey, though. She makes a point of trying to bite anyone who gets too close to her, and her bite causes a lot of damage when she's successful. Some parrots have the strength to break through broom sticks - think of what they could do to a finger.Think of what they could do to a child's hand.

I wanted to add this last bit of information for two reasons:

1. Parrots are a life-long commitment, and that commitment should never be made lightly. The lifespan of some parrots can equal or exceed those of a human.They require a tremendous amount of attention, much like a child. But unlike a child, parrots never outgrow their need for attention.

2. If you're reading this, have educated yourself about parrots, and are considering parrot ownership, please, pretty please, consider adopting a parrot who needs rescuing. They aren't hard to find; Craigslist (^), local shelters, and AvianWeb Adoption resources (^) and good places to start. None of us want to contribute to the serious problem of over-breeding when there are so many parrots who already need "forever homes".Needless to say, never adopt a wild parrot. Many parrots which commonly exist in captivity teeter on the brink of extinction in the wild. The Hyacinth Macaw is one of those:

 

Hyacinth Macaw

used with permission (^)

It would be terrible if this beautiful bird  existed only in captivity. 

Namaste.

Greetings from the Uncanny Valley (Odds & Ends)

Recently, I met a member of the Single Action Shooting Society(^). Members of the SASS target shoot in competitions, dress in period clothing, use period weapons, and answer to a "Western" name that they adopt which is unique to each member. Calamity Rabbit has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

The fellow I met was very nice, taking time to explain everything to me, including the fact that about 40% of their members locally are women. Wow.

Simply put, single action weapons are those that have to be cocked before each shot, i.e., the hammer has to be pulled back before each round is fired. The trigger performs a single action when it is pulled (it drops the hammer). Cowboys in the Wild West (and everyone else) fired single action weapons before double-action weapons were invented.

I'm considering joining the SASS in the spring. It sounds fascinating; combing my love of sewing (costuming), history, and target practice. We'll have to see if I can find the time. How neat would it be to research and sew (and then wear) an authentically styled Western costume?

I was reminded of SASS when I saw something interesting about Annie Oakley recently. Annie Oakley was an amazing woman, accomplished in areas that were dominated by men at a time when women were generally afforded very few options.

As a young girl, Annie hunted and sold what she shot to help her widowed mother get by. She was so successful that she was eventually able to pay off her mother's mortgage.

Annie met her eventual husband, traveling show marksman Frank Butler when he placed a bet with a hotel owner for $100.00 (a whole lot of money in 1881) that he (Frank) could beat any local marksman. The hotelier got Annie to compete and she won. She and Frank were married the next year. When she died, at age 66, Frank, unable to bear life without her, refused to eat and died 18 days later.

She was an early promoter of women in combat roles, and once wrote a letter to President William McKinley offering the the services of a company of 50 'lady sharpshooters' to the government if there was a war with Spain. There was a war, of course, but McKinley never took her up on her offer.

Annie was an amazing shot; she could split a playing card edge-on and put several holes in it before it hit the ground with a .22 caliber rifle at 90 feet. She earned the title of Little Sure Shot of the Wild West from her days touring with Buffalo Bill Cody.

This was Annie Oakley as people would have seen her on posters advertising the Wild West Show:



and this was Annie Oakley as she looked in life:


And this, which I found when I was researching something else this week, is Annie Oakley on film:



How spiffy is that? First, it's Annie Oakley. Who hasn't heard of her? And second, it's one of the earliest Edison Kinetoscopes know to exist.

(Kinetoscope)

And then there's this, which is completely unrelated but spiffy nonetheless:

A couple of nights ago, Dan and I were watching The Polar Express, based on the book of the same name. The movie is about a boy who isn't sure he believes in Santa anymore. On Christmas Eve he finds a steam locomotive outside his door, and once aboard, he travels with other children to the North Pole to see Saint Nicholas. It's a sweet movie, and we enjoyed it, for the most part.

Not everyone did, however. It didn't review well(^) when it was released, and a large part of why seems to be because reviewers(^) felt that the characters were creepy and unreal-seeming.

Before we went to bed for the evening, I searched for the film online, and read about how it was made, using motion capture technology. Motion capture records the movement of the actors and uses computers to translate "real" movement into the movement of characters onscreen. It allows for more realistic human action on film.

And that is a huge potential problem. There is a hypothesis, put forth by Japanese roboticist Masahiro Mori, that states that when robots are made to seem more human, humans (that's us) will respond with more empathy toward them. In other words, we'll like them better the more they seem to be like us. So, we will like a robot with two arms, two legs and a head better than a mechanical box with crane-like arms, no legs and no head.

But, the theory goes, as robots approach being indistinguishable from humans, they will cross over from cute and become repulsive to us.

For example:

The robot from Lost in Space(^) seems fine to most of us. He has two arms, two legs, a head, and a metallic voice. We recognize him as being human enough to elicit empathy.
(and)
A robot (or human facsimile in a film or elsewhere) that is indistinguishable from humans will be fine because we won't be able to tell the difference. If it seems human in every single way, we won't know the difference, and it won't bother us.
(but)
Somewhere in between Lost in Space and the indistinguishable robot of the future is the repulsive middle. It looks human, it acts human, but something is a little off and we humans know it. It will be uncanny, foreign yet familiar.

That gap between the Lost in Space robot or perhaps the Maria robot from the 1927 Fritz Lang masterpiece Metropolis and the Robot of the Future is the Uncanny Valley.

Robot Maria

Apparently, many reviewers found that the characters in The Polar Express fell within the realm of the Uncanny Valley(^). They found the characters looked slightly off and that unnerved some viewers.

We didn't find them creepy, exactly, but did find ourselves trying to figure out which actions were motion capture and which were straight up animation, and that definitely detracted from the movie.

Won't it be interesting when robots become indistinguishable? We won't know what we don't know, I guess.

Other links I've found in the last few days:

• Google has found that certain search terms used by the public are a good indicator of the severity of the flu, and have placed this information in a handy chart here(^).
• If you've ever wondered what those additives or dyes in various food and makeup products are, here is Food Additives World(^), an informative website that describe what they are and what they're doing in your food and/or makeup.

And finally, some pictures from the last few days:

This is Mar-Belles. Not Marbles. Mar-Belles.
Dan and I named her Marbles, which we thought somehow went with Waffles, but the SuperCat immediately renamed her Mar-Belles, which sounds like a character from Gone With The Wind.
Mar-Belles acts like a little lady, so the name is apt.
She is just teeny tiny, and so sweet. She sleeps on my feet at night and comes and cuddles in the early morning. She tolerates the enthusiastic pets of little people, and has perfect manners.

This is Neh-neh. He doesn't have any other name. We've tried several times to give him other names, but Neh-neh is the only name that sticks. His hobbies include being the dog's very best friend in the whole world, repeatedly falling into the bathtub once it's full of water, and waking me up several times a night. He really is a cute little guy, and we love him, but wish he wouldn't try to play at 4:30 AM.

This is what you get when you try to use that teeny little video screen on the digital camera to take pictures instead of using the viewfinder.
This picture was supposed to be a shot of my snow-filled backyard.
What it is is a picture of a ceramic squirrel stuck into the jungle of plants on the shelf above my kitchen sink.
I don't have the greenest thumb in the world, but can grow various Aloe and Sansevieria (mother-in-law's tongue) plants until they are practically sentient.

More squirrely goodness.
This little guy holds measuring spoons in his tail and has googly eyes.
How awesome is that?
The white glare is from the snow outside.

Santa lights up at night when the rest of the lights go on, not that you'd notice because our shared lawn looks like Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade with all the inflatables.

Finally a bit of snow.
Not a lot of the it, and no pictures of the vast uninterrupted swaths I had meant to photograph earlier in the day, but snow nonetheless. This shows about a third of the inflatables in our immediate neighborhood.
Santa is lost in the crowd, but he's in there somewhere.

Namaste.

Current Mood: contemplative

The Buddhist Cow Says Mu

How can you possibly go wrong with a quiz that contains an awesome question like Do you like waffles? From the Thursday Thunks meme, on Friday morning (of course).



1. Do you like waffles?
I love waffles! There are really great gluten-free waffles on the market, made by Van's(^). Sometimes we make it using GF baking mix. I haven't made them from scratch yet. When I was still eating wheat I have to admit that the best waffles I ever made were made with Jiffy Mix(^) and the worst I ever made were made totally from scratch using the recipe in The Joy Of Cooking. They were way too greasy. Yuck.

The ones from Vans are great because they're, well, great - they taste like waffles, not too sweet or funky due to the lack of flour. And because they are in the grocery store, vs going to the health food store. And because they aren't expensive. A lot of gluten-free food is pretty expensive. There are several factors involved - testing, cleaning equipment, smaller batches, costly ingredients.

It's spiffy to find things that aren't expensive, taste good and are easy to find.

We like Waffles so much that we have a cat named Waffles. Our Waffles was actually named after Fern's cat Waffles, though. Fern doesn't have an accessible blog at the moment, but when he does, I'll link to it. He's one of the most important people in my life; the brother I now have, a best friend, and a confidant. As wonderful as Fern is, and while his cat is no doubt awesome, scientifically speaking, our Waffles has been determined to be the best cat on the planet.

Waffles:

• is incredibly empathetic and always comes and lays with us if we're not feeling well or could use some cheering up.
  
• sleeps with us, and is never too warm.
  
• lets the other kitties eat first.
  
• roars when he purrs.
  
• is huge, really long and muscular.
  
• defends other kitties against the scourge that is the dog.
• loves his mommy.
• has his own following on MySpace.
  

Waffles on the bed


More Waffles. Doesn't he have the sweetest face?

2. Name 3 things that is within your reach right now, excluding anything to do with your computer/laptop.

A water bottle, a lamp shaped like the Eiffel Tower, and my camera.

3. Do you hang laundry out on a line outside?

Rarely. I often hang it in the laundry room to dry. In Colorado, the air is so dry that even inside, clothes dry in a just few hours.

4. Loss of vision, ability to speak or hearing - which do you choose? (you have to choose one....)

I've already lost some hearing in my right ear due to a childhood injury, and I'd be ok with losing the rest. Well, not ok, but it would bother me less than the other two. I watch closed captioned TV and can read lips, so it wouldn't be much of a shock to lose my hearing, whereas I can't fathom losing my vision or the ability to speak.

5. On a scale from 1 - 10, how are your computer skills?

Well, compared to my husband, pretty poor. His skills go to eleven, as Nigel Tufnel(^) would say. But compared to your average user, probably about an 8 with PCs; a 6 with Macs; and maybe a 4 with Linux.

Tux, the Linux Mascot

This is the place where I tell you I intend to become more adept at Linux, like I always do. The truth is, it isn't Linux's fault - it's mine. Linux is not hard to learn at the user level, I'm just really busy with the SuperCat. I am at a point where I could use Linix 24/7 at the user level, but I would like to know a lot more and not have to rely on Dan for technical support.

On the plus side, I did dump Windows off my desktop machine, and my laptop now dual boots, so I am making measurable progress. Yay, progress.

6. Do you volunteer or donate to anything around the holidays?

I used to volunteer a lot, but haven't for a while, and am ok with that for the time being. My time is best utilized at home and probably will be for the foreseeable future. I will return to volunteering, eventually though, as I do miss it. We do donate to the ARC(^), which does a lot of good work.

7. If a person receives a DUI while in government office, should he lose his/her position?

I don't have enough information to make a decision.
Was the person elected, appointed or hired?
Does their job involve passing legislation involving drunk driving? Are they otherwise in a decision-making position?
Without more information, I can't answer.

Which totally brings us to MU!!!!! My friend Ben shared the concept of Mu a couple of weeks ago, and I was delighted to read about it.

Mu, where have you been all my life?

Mu (in Japan and Korea) or Wu (in Chinese) means "none", "without", and "no meaning". Mu is the answer to give when there is no correct answer possible or when there isn't enough information to give any answer at all. When "yes" and "no" are both wrong, "Mu" may be the answer.

Mu has a place in Buddhist philosophy as a kōan. A kōan is an often paradoxical question, story, riddle or statement that makes you think about things intuitively that may not be thinkable any other way.

These are kōans:

• what is the sound of one hand clapping?
• when you can do nothing, what can you do?
• what is the color of wind?
• If you have ice cream, I will give you some.
  If you don't have ice cream, I will take it away.
  That, of course, is the famous ice cream kōan by Jack Kerouac
  

Kōans may not have a obvious or single correct answer, which is where Mu comes in.

This is Mu:

marvel at the awesomeness of Mu

8. Do you take vitamins?

I administer vitamins in the form of Flintstones Chewables (now with Betty), and I take one occasionally, but generally no.

9. Do you wear fingernail polish?

My hands are too often in and around craft materials and water to have polished nails. I keep my nails clean but not polished since they'd chips too frequently to look neat for very long. My toenails are polished, though. Bright pink at the moment.

10. If every flower in the world only grew into one color, which color would you want?

The color of blue hydrangeas in the shade on a late summer afternoon. How's that for specific? I love hydrangeas and everything they represent - the bounty and beauty of summer flowers, and the languid warmth of late afternoons as the shadows grow. Hydrangeas made up the bulk of my bridal bouquet and I can't wait to grow them again.

Beautiful blue hydrangeas
Stock Photo from the morgueFile, image information found here(^)

I have a busy day of sewing ahead of me, and will try to post some pictures f my work later this evening.

Until then,

Namaste.
Current mood: (busy)

Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow

♪ It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas ♫

After a day and a half of waiting and listening to the seemingly interminable up-to-the-minute Channel30/5/11/13/21NewsCenterAccu-WeatherQuickAlerts, we finally saw snow.

Yesterday afternoon, around 4:00 PM, my husband called and said that his boss had advised everyone to go home and finish the day working from home because the weather was getting bad. Just as he arrived home, it was as if the sky above turned on the snow-making machines and we went from an vast expanse of bare grass to several inches of the white stuff within 20 minutes or so. We get a lot of snow here, of course, but it doesn't usually start so abruptly. It continued all evening. Here are a few pictures from right after dusk:

Santa and Rudolph weren't fully inflated yet when this was taken, making them look as though they really, really liked each other.

inflatable heaven

all lit up

Our Christmas tree is about 7½ feet tall, but it doesn't look that big here, probably because we have gift bags circling the tree like covered wagons to keep the galloping herd of buffalo our giant dog from chasing the kitties under the tree and knocking it over.

It's hard to capture details, so you'll have to imagine the cool bubble lights. I always thought those were the coolest and thought that I'd have them when I grew up. I do have them now, and they are (in fact) the coolest.

The fireplace is to the left, and you can't really see it, but there is a very large clay chiminea shaped like an owl on the hearth full of pebbles and candles.

PS: I noticed that I forgot to include Question 4 from the yesterday's quiz. It should have been:

4. When do you take the tree down?

I used to leave the tree up till at least the Feast of the Epiphany(^) (January 6th), but the last several years I've taken the tree down the day after Christmas, because that was all I could stand (after my Dad died). Somehow, this year is finally different, and I feel like celebrating again, even if only tentatively. I don't know if we will make it to Epiphany, but I'm certainly willing to try.

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo's(^)
Adoration of the Magi (17th Century)

Finally, a quick Q & A, because a friend was wondering about a few things after I posted a picture of our tree last night:

Q: What's that lurking behind your Christmas tree?
A: A copy of the poster for Le Chat Noir(^), the famous 19th century Parisian cabaret. Well, famous in the 19th century, anyway. The poster (not my copy, of course) dates to 1896. Here it is without a tree in front of it:

I always think the cat looks really cheesed.

Q. The picture makes it look like your walls are painted purple. What color are they really?

A. Purple. A purple-y sort of dark dusty violet. I ♥ the color.

Namasté

Current mood: (cold)

Thursday Thunks On Friday Afternoon

Or: Are you perpetually late?
A: Yes, oftentimes.

I haven't done a Thursday Thunks(^) thingy in a while, but this week's was sort of cool, so I'm playing along. Italics are theirs.

Suicide, House, neighbors, dogs, PB&J, STD's and accents
Welcome to the December 4th version of Thursday Thunks!
Where we make you think a little bit before you blog!

This week we will answer some crazy questions brought to you by Berleen, the color sky blue pink and the number 7 (as in the number of days until my birthday).*

1. Have you ever not thought about the possibility of suicide?

Huh? I don't think about the possibility of suicide most of the time. The last time I thought about it was yesterday in regard to Spalding Gray(^) when I heard a Talking Heads song (Love For Sale from one of my favorite movies, True Stories). Spalding Gray plays town leader Earl Culver, who never speaks to his wife. Spalding Gray died almost five years ago and it is still very sad to think about. He was incredibly talented.

2. How many dogs have you owned in your life? What kind? What were their names?
For a dedicated cat person, I've had a surprising number of dogs. Let's see...
a). Two red miniature dachshunds, Hans & Gretchen.
b). A Hovawart names Binky.
c). A red miniature dachshund named Pudgy (named for Betty Boop's dog).

Pudgy (Betty Boop's)

d). A black Cairn Terrier name Josephine (named for the giraffe in Josephine, the Short-Neck Giraffe(^) from the good people who brought us Mister Roger's Neighborhood. She looks like Toto, from the Wizard of Oz and lives with my daughter.
e). A very large black German Shepard named Dennis (he's here in the house somewhere). I can't remember why we named him Dennis, but it was funny at the time. A few days after we got Dennis, someone told me that they didn't like his name because it was the same name as her ex husband. But I'd already had his tags made, so he's Dennis. This is Dennis:

Upside down on the lawn, smiling for the camera.

3. In one word, what do most people describe you as?

Honestly, I have no idea. Whatever it is, I hope it's a nice word.

4. Do you watch HouseMD? Why not?

Used to. Not much anymore. No idea why.

5. What irritates you most about your neighbors?

Nothing at all irritates me about my immediate neighbors. They are all quiet and nice. There is one terribly bitter soul in the neighborhood who is constantly trying to upset people and cause problems, but for the most part, I feel sorry for her and bad about what must be a terribly lonely and miserable existence, but never really irritated with her.

6. Have you ever called someone in for some sort of abuse or neglect on humans, animals or property?

No. Though I did help capture a parrot this past summer and the Animal Shelter came and got it. And one time I called for a possum and another time for a sick crow. Does that count?

7. What color is the sky in your world?

I love that question when it's asked sarcastically with a mock-serious tone, but I'm assuming they really want to know, so the answer is... sort of gray and overcast.

8. Did you see those 2 planets that everyone is talking about this week?

Uh... I have no idea, so I guess not.

9. Would you like to submit your own question for future Thursday Thunks?

Maybe. How many would I have to come up with?

10. Do you have a skin condition? Are you gonna tell us what it is?

No. I used to have this terribly dry, itchy skin, but it was caused by eating wheat gluten due to Celiac Disease. When I found out I had Celiac and stopped eating wheat, it stopped being dry and itchy, and everything has been fine ever since.

11. Have you ever had an STD?

Do children count?

Honestly, no. Not even fever blisters. icky icky icky.

12. Do you do any crafts?

I knit and crochet. I work in felt (needle felting, wet felting, sewn felting); make dolls; and work in all types of clay (polymer and ceramic). I sew, too and do other things as the mood strikes me.

13. Peanut Butter & Jelly - what flavor is the jelly?

Strawberry or strawberry-rhubarb. They didn't ask, but the peanut butter would be chunky and the bread would be gluten-free.

14. Stripes or polka-dots?

Polka Dots.

15. What accent drives you crazy? Is it a good crazy or a bad crazy?

Men with a British accent are sexy, but men with a Southern accent is even sexier. For example, my husband, or Rafael Eledge(^) on Antiques Roadshow. Those would all be good crazy. That Southern drawl gets me every time.

Bad crazy would be a really harsh Northern accent. There is nothing good about hearing that.

Finally (for now), here are two videos from True Stories (see question 1):

Wild, Wild Life (with a young John Goodman)

People Like Us (more John Goodman goodness. This time he's singing)

Namaste.

* Their birthday, not mine.