Tribute to a Cat
Tuesday, November 19th, 2013
Tribute to a Cat
Today marks the end of an era of house cats with the passing of Polly, a pretty remarkable Calico, who as nearly as Heather and I could figure, was at least 16 years old. Polly came to us in a roundabout way. We were living on the farm in Idaho and had some orphan kittens I was caring for, when we got word that Sunny, the local animal lover, would love to add them to her menagerie. All went well for about a month, when she suddenly decided she had way too many cats (I can’t remember the details, but seems like they weren’t getting along with some of her other animals) and I was tasked with finding homes for my original 3 plus about 3 more. This I did….mostly. I have to admit I kept the 2 cutest kittens who adored each other and had tons of personality because I was just SURE that my good friend Debbie needed to have them for her girls. Unfortunately, she did not agree, and by the time it sunk in, it was too late. I was attached. And so Sparky (a yellow tom, nicknamed Puddle of Butter because he ‘melted’ when ever picked up and) and Polly joined our family. (Including 3-4 dogs, and 2 other cats).
I do think Polly was my favorite of all my cats. Her personality was sweet, but also a little saucy. She was a good hunter, but had a very soft mouth. On more than one occasion, she caught a bird, and when she let it go so she could catch it again, it flew away. I think a mouse or two made it into the house in the same way.
There was a period of time when UltraDad decided he no longer wanted housecats, though we had 4 who had been used to coming in the house from kittenhood. It was a very stressful time for them (and for me), but he was adamant until one day when Polly went missing and I broke down. She turned up a day later, and slowly and gradually the cats were allowed back into the house again, where they remained (except for Sparky who made the mistake of trying to mark UltraDad’s leg). Before that, Polly has been sleek and svelte, but after she seemed to develop an ‘eating disorder’ and became rather fat.
She would brook no nonsense from the canines in the family, and until the last year or so, was bigger than the poodles. The first time Jim’s large puppy Zeke met her, she scratched his nose and seemed to actively stalk him to revel in his fear!
I remember a large stuffed pig we had; it had a motion sensor in it and would yell “I love you. EEEEEEEE! “ when you got close. This drove Polly nuts and she would grab that pig by the scruff of his neck (not an easy task, as it was nearly as big as she was), drag it under the bed or into a corner. We thought this was hilarious, so got it back out to watch her repeat the process, which she did 4-5 times.
For the past year or so, Polly has not been well. After a trip to the Vet, we treated her for periodic urinary tract infections, and our once pleasantly plump, (ie obese) feline became thin and gaunt. She begged for food, but would eat only a few bites of any offering, leaving the rest for the willing poodles. She started missing the litter box and we would find a puddle on the floor nearby. And so, we finally made the difficult decision not to let her suffering continue any longer. And though I think it was the right one, I am sad tonight. And I think she deserves a tribute.
How to recover a deleted central git repository
Thursday, November 7th, 2013
This is a note primarily for future me, in case this ever happens again.
I have a central bare git repository that I push to and pull from occasionally when I make changes to a project I work on. This central repository was cloned to a couple of non-bare repositories, and at some point the central repository got deleted. It was quite a while before I next tried to check in, and so I didn’t notice it until the deleted files had actually rotated out of my backups. I did know which working copy I had most recently worked on, meaning I had a fully updated clone (with some uncommitted changes). Here was the solution that so far seems to have worked for me.
- /path/to/wc — path to the working copy with the most recent changes
- /path/to/central — path to the directory that help the repository directory
- /path/to/central/repo — path to the actual repository directory
show remote -v
this returned the info I needed to work out /path/to/central/repo
mkdir -p /path/to/central
git clone --bare /path/to/wc repo
note repo here is the name of the central repository I’m recreating. This step creates the bare repository, but seems not to get the branches
git push --mirror /path/to/central/repo
This pushes the branches
I don’t fully understand all the details of this, so I’ve decided to read the git pro book, to solidify my understanding. I think there is probably a more proper way to do this or steps I should take to clean up, or maybe I could have just run got clone --mirror instead of git clone --bare and skipped a step. Please enlighten me.
Macbook Pro black screen on wake from sleep
Friday, July 20th, 2012
I am putting this here in case someone else runs into the issue that plagued me for probably more than a year until I found a fix(?) for it, and their google search terms line up better with what I write than with other stuff on google. My google fu widely failed me on this one.
When I close my screen and cause my macbook pro to fall asleep, frequently when I open it back up the screen is black. If I look really really closely I can see that there is a login window there, the screen justas the brightness all the way turned off. To make it all more endearing, the brightness keys have no effect. No effect that is unless you hold down the command key. Holding the command key and hitting the brightness up button will light your screen back up and you’ll continue on your merry way, wishing that the aluminum didn’t warm up quite so much, and that you didn’t suddenly have a new issue where sometimes the machine seems to get bogged down and ignore some of your keystrokes, making writing a blog post such as this a little bit frustrating.
When you feel up to trying to debug this latest issue, may your google fu prove up to the task!
You’re welcome Internet.
A decade of consistent in-depth, hard-hitting, god-fearing apostrophizing
Thursday, July 12th, 2012
Just noticed that this website turned 10 years old back in February. Where’s my f’ing parade?
How do I do this again?
Tuesday, April 24th, 2012
So, how are you? It’s been a while. It’s been long enough in fact that we are back in that stage of the relationship where every new conversation we have starts haltingly, cautiously. I’m shy I can’t help it. I would like to declare that I’m going to start writing regularly now and we’ll be back to the unconsciously comfortable back and forth enjoyed by friends that meet often. I’m not going to. That would be astoundingly over-optimistic. The truth is I almost never think of this site anymore when I am looking for a creative outlet, and since I moved the site out of a server in my house, I’m less in touch with the technical aspects of it. I’ve been aware for a long while that some of the images here are not working properly, but I’ve been too busy with too many more important priorities to do anything about it. The truth is this site has probably largely been killed by parenthood, facebook, twitter, and changing interests; but I’m not giving up. I will write when I feel like it, and it turns that today I feel like it. I want to tell you a few things about my kids.
Linc will be 4 years old in two days. I really should draft a letter to him as I did on a birthday in the past. It is tough to find the time to do things like that these days. I’m really enjoying the boy that Linc is becoming, although I wish he had a little bit more understanding that other people (his sisters in particular) feel pain. He now has a constant storyline going when he is playing, and it is fun to watch.
As you might expect, the girls are changing much more rapidly than Linc is currently. LaeAnn and Keena both walk on their own when they feel like it, and it turns out LaeAnn feels like it a lot more often than Keena, who prefers knee walking as a mode of transport. As mentioned in another venue, Keena took her first steps first, but when LaeAnn started she went full throttle with it. LaeAnn has been saying Daddy for well over a month, but she would only say it to me and would never say it when UltraGirl admitted she was listening. On Sunday that changed, my picture was showing on our computer screen and LaeAnn pointed and said in a voice so clear it could not be denied, “Daddy!” That girl really has a way with words!
Speaking of speaking, Keena also got to that first, but in a similar sense LaeAnn seems to be quickly overtaking her. Keena’s spoken vocabulary includes dog, Anpanman (bean paste donut-head man), and food. She also has a pretty servicable collection of baby signs that serve her well and outpace both LaeAnn’s and Linc’s collections at that age. LaeAnn seems to be really really good at mimicking sounds she hears. Her vocabulary now includes Daddy (expect that to be mentioned a few more times before the end of this), Stand up, dog, food, possibly anpanman and I think one or two more that are escaping me now. She also sings silent night. Yes really! Well, yes kind of. I sing the first line, and then she sings “ah ah ah night” but she gets the tone right! That’s still better than what we can coax out of UltraDad, both in amount and tonefulness.
Finally the girls fight like late career Mike Tyson, which is to say primarily through biting, headbutts, and making a ruckus. If anybody has tips on how to get 1 year olds not to bite each other, I’m interested. Competition over prime toys is fierce and they primarily see each other as competition right now. When UltraGirl instructed them to pet each other (a concept familiar to them with their stuffed animals), the concept seemed completely foreign at first.
So that was my first attempt at writing at any length in quite some time, and I’m well aware that it is rambling, and takes a long time to say everything. Thank you for getting through it. Oh yeah, and LaeAnn says Daddy now!
A Walk in the Woods aka a Harrowing Hike in Lamoille Canyon
Monday, August 1st, 2011
Most weekends UltraDad and I do pretty much the same thing: watch TV, have a big breakfast, grocery shop, an occasional movie or card game and more TV. The weekend goes by and we have done, well, nothing. We decided this weekend would be a little different. So, we got up early (usual for him, an effort for me!) and headed for Lamoille Canyon, a beautiful and popular area we had not visited for a number of years. I drove as we made our way up the winding road. UltraDad pointed out picnic areas, waterfalls and other objects of interest; usually I had to make the choice between viewing the wonder or staying on the road, so he saw a lot more than I did. We arrived at the circular parking lot at the end of the road, which was already nearly full of vehicles, a little after 9 am. By 9:30, we were at the trailhead ready for an adventurous hike. UDad had his fancy Cabellas walking stick, and I had 2 leashed poodles and a small backpack containing water, apples, string cheese and 2 small candy bars. I almost brought Bug-Sun lotion, but decided it made my little pack too heavy. That decision I would later regret.
The signs at the Trail Head showed a couple of 2 mile hikes. We set off on the trail towards Lake Lamoille. The last time we had been on this trail, probably 4 years ago, it had been much earlier in the year. Water, mud and snow had made the trail treacherous and detrimental to nice tennis shoes, so that time we had not gone far. Now it was nearly August and a very warm day. How bad could it be?
To be fair, most of the trail was wide and well marked, complete with sturdy log bridges over wide streams. But as we climbed higher, it soon became clear that not all the snow was gone. I especially hated the transverse snowy patches on the hillsides. The snow was just melted enough from the weather plus the foot traffic to make it hard to gain a firm footing, at least for a clutz like me. UltraDad had no trouble at all and soon made it a policy to leave his walking stick for me at the start of each expanse of snowy trail. That helped a lot, though I still slipped and slid and had to catch myself as I got off balance.
There were a lot of people on the trail that day in every possible combination: singles, pairs, families, groups, and lots and lots of dogs. Many people stopped and gave Murphy and Rowdy a pat on the head, wondering if these two small pampered-looking pets could make the hike. I believe that people tend to underestimate poodles, especially such finely conditioned ones as my handsome pair☺ They showed their ‘toughness’ by barking at each dog we encountered along the trail, seeming to say ‘do you want a piece of me?’ No one did.
We finally came upon a series of several small lakes. These were the ‘Dollar Lakes’, I learned later, reviewing the sign upon our return. They were beautiful; I especially liked the small island with picturesque fir tree on one of them, and we took a series of pictures of it from many angles. It was about then that I realized my left ankle was really starting to hurt.
It had been twinging for a while, probably since crossing the snow fields, but I tried to ignore it, hoping it would just go away. There had been no single memorable incidence of twisting or rolling it.
Several return trip hikers assured us that Lake Lamoille was just around the corner, and soon we were gazing on a spectacular panorama of a glacial lake surrounded by snow-clad mountains. I was happy when we arrived at a spot where we could sit and rest for awhile. I removed my left shoe and packed snow around only slightly puffy ankle as we ate our cheese and apples. I don’t know how all this snow remained because it was really hot up there! This was when I regretted leaving the sunscreen behind.
When it was time to leave, I put my shoe back on with great difficulty and needed help to stand. When I put weight on my left foot, the pain was intense. Somehow I had managed to sprain my ankle. UltraDad took the nearly empty pack, took charge of the poodles and handed me his walking stick. Further down the trail, he found me another one. At first I could only go a few steps before I felt like I was going to pass out. I did this several times, but was finally able to keep going for longer stretches. Poor UltraDad would walk ahead with the dogs and wait for me to catch up. This would be our pattern for the 2 miles back. On the way up, I was careful of my shoes, trying to avoid the mud and water. Now I didn’t want to take any extra steps; at one point I slid down a hill of snow rather than try to walk a snowy trail. After awhile it got easier, though the progress was still slow. UDad and the ‘boys’ were infinitely patient. It was 3:30 when we got back to the car, and now my ankle was really swollen. I immediately zonked out as UltraDad steered the car towards home.
At one point on the trail UltraDad remarked on how pale I looked and remarked curiously, “I think you have a low tolerance for pain.” I couldn’t argue with him. “But,” he continued kindly “that doesn’t make you a bad person.” Thanks for that.
Now after a day of RICE (rest, ice, compression, elevation) it is feeling much better, though still very puffy. I have a cane, crutches and a walking boot (the later two borrowed from a friend). I am feeling sorry that I will miss my early morning walks with my friends. But it was definitely not our typical run of the mill weekend. In fact I think we wil remember this one for a long, long time.
UltraMom the cripple
The UltraParents enjoy a fun Independence Day Weekend
Wednesday, July 6th, 2011
Well, here we are, 4th of July 2011. I am sitting in my back yard at near dusk enjoying the sights and sounds of my waterfall/pond. There is a slight breeze blowing, and I am enduring only the occasional mosquito bite. The sound of a neighborhood firecracker just sent Rowdy, my 7 lb. ball of macho, fighting-poodle quivering onto my lap. His brother Murphy seems frozen into a ‘point’ some 10 yards away. This is NOT their favorite holiday.
UltraDad and I have just returned from a fun, if a little driving-heavy weekend in Idaho. I have to take my hat off to UDad, who spent all of Friday afternoon loading up a pickup-full of possessions-left-behind-in-the-move, including a currently-not-running riding lawnmower, to take to sister Pat, who very recently moved to Arco, ID from our town of Carlin, NV. He then loaded up our trip-luggage, instructed me to set the alarm for 3 AM, and did most of the driving while I dozed. Arrival time in Arco? 10:45 AM, Idaho time! I love Pat’s new place. Her house is perfect for her, and there is a nice, big fenced yard for the dogs. She has been busy planting flowers and decorating, and really seems to be enjoying her retirement. She took us out to lunch at Pickle’s Place, which was a total nostalgia thing. Back at Pat’s house, we stood around in the front, saying goodbye. Murphy and Rowdy were being particularly well-behaved, and I was thinking how nice it was that they seemed to have gotten over their bad sometime-habit of chasing cars….and then the motorcycle drove by and it was all over. Murphy only narrowly avoided becoming road kill. I have GOT to stop trusting those conniving poodles.
We got to Jim and Jessica’s house in Rigby mid afternoon. Their puppy Zeke is really growing. He is sweet, but rambunctious. He wanted to play with the poodles; Murphy and Rowdy wanted to kill him, but as Zeke now weighs over twice their combined weight, they had to content themselves with growling, snarling and taunting from the safety of a lap.
So, after the yard tour to admire the numerous new trees, shrubs and flowers, what to do with a few hours of a lovely summer afternoon? Why check out famous Rigby Lake of course….which we attempted to do online with very little success. I defy you to find out anything about a 4th of July celebration except that the local police would have a booth there. Once we arrived in person, we found a regular jamboree of summer fun. The panorama reminded me of a crowded “Where’s Waldo?” scene with paddleboats, canoes, fishing, camping, picnic tables, a karaoke stage, food booths, craft booths, kids diving off a platform into the lake, the promised police presence, and lots of folks with dogs. At $5 a car or $1 a head for walkers/bikers/buses, tiny Rigby lake was doing a booming business. As we skirted the most congested area, walking the perimeter of the lake, it was interesting to note Zeke’s reaction to all this, given his heretofore limited contact with people. “Hi,” he seemed to say with his wagging tail and lolling tongue to each admirer who stopped to pet him, “I’m Zeke! Do you want to take me home with you?” Following in his wake, Murphy and Rowdy, contrary to their usual ability to charm children and middle-aged women, seemed to be on the fight. “So,” they seemed to radiate to anyone in the vicinity of another dog, including Zeke, “What’s up? Do you want a piece of us? Don’t make us come over there,” and so on. It was a little embarrassing, to tell the truth. Jim wanted to see how Zeke would take to the water; after all, he is, ostensibly a pointing-retrieving bird dog. And he did well, swimming a small, safe circle each time Jim lured him away from the shore. Good dog.
UltraMom had been fighting a creeping crud since the morning of July 1st, so was talking in a low, sexy voice and attractively coughing and sniffling every 5 minutes or so. And so, her half-hearted offers to help with meals were turned down, darn it. It did not stop her, however, from taking full enjoyment of Jessica’s yummy steak dinner and fantastic breakfasts. She also gamely trooped along on the nightly property walk, which is Zeke’s favorite time of the day, as he is off-leash and free to explore smells and sounds and terrorize small poodles. ‘The Sheriff’, the large, orange neighborhood cat, whose main job is to quell unruly rodents, put in an appearance also.
The next morning was a lazy one; we were not due in Pocatello for a BBQ at Heather and Heath’s until noon. We played a couple of games of CLUE; twice Jim just beat me to the punch and the WIN, but the final game of the day went to Jessica. I was still trying to narrow down the weapon when she swooped into the middle of the board for the win! Good job, UltraJess!
We had been trying the poodles out in Zeke’s kennel, with mixed success. The hour they spent there on Saturday, they howled and whined, but it seemed they would at least be contained. And then I spotted a small, light shape halfway up the wire enclosure. Someone was climbing the fence, and on closer inspection, it proved to be Murphy, who based on past experience would NOT have been the usual suspect, as Rowdy was the most renowned escape artist. But each time he neared the wood at the top of the enclosure, he fell back down. He certainly was determined! The plan had been to leave them there with Zeke when we went to Poc, to keep from stressing out Heather’s cats, especially Callie who had been quite sick, but in the end I just couldn’t do it. I would have had visions of escaped, or mangled poodles running through the periphery of my mind the entire time we were gone, so the spoiled little brats got to come along.
We made a quick stop for beer and cherries (my impulse purchase) and arrived to find Heath mowing the lawn, and Heather looking more beautiful than I had ever seen her. I was happy to see she was wearing the black top and jeans I had bought her for her birthday; she looked great in them and she said they were very comfy.
At times like this, it is quite nice having a daughter who works for Sizzler: the steaks, salads, and rolls were delicious, and Heath perfectly cooked each steak to each one’s liking, including my WELL DONE. We were soon too full to move, or even much think, and we had a nice time just talking and enjoying the back yard view, largely maintained by Don (Heath’s Dad) and Marsha Christensen, who live in the upstairs of this duplex. UtraMom and Dad particularly enjoyed the NO MOSQUITOES aspect, as Carlin, NV is the disputable (by someone who has never lived there) mosquito capital of the world. Murphy and Rowdy were quite good at times, and fooled, as they so often do, UltraMom into thinking they could be unleashed. In the end, the leashes became a permanent fixture, much to the relief of Callie and Rocky.
Towards evening, a couples’ pinochle tourney was suggested, and a table was hauled out. Heather/Heath and Jessica/Jim took the first round, while UtraMom rustled up some grub for a light, snacky dinner and UltraDad kept an eye on the unpredictable poodle brothers. The game was a long one; I think the bids were often larger than the cards, as the scores took a while to land solidly in the region of positive numbers. Jessica/Jim took the win, but the most amazing hand of the day goes to Heather/Heath with a Family/4Aces/Double Pinochle and assorted other meld in a game with Ultra/M&D. But the highlight of the day, for UMom anyhow, was feeling my precious granddaughter move!
Monday morning, the 4th of July, saw the UltraParents preparing for their long drive home. We were happy when Jim suggested a joint breakfast at McDonald’s in IF, as they had a little shopping to do in town. He also picked up the tab; thanks UltraJim!
As on the trip out, UltraMom spent most of the trip in dreamland, and besides a brief stop at the Pocatello Walmart for a pit stop (maybe something to do with UltraDad’s 4 cups of coffee and large glass of iced tea), it seemed no time at all before we were nearing Twin Falls. A quick, light lunch at KFC, a quick turn through PetsMart so Murphy and Rowdy could bark at some cute Yorkies and get petted by some cute kids, and we were on the road again.
Once back in Carlin, poor UltraDad had only a brief stop before turning back around to head for Ruby Valley. He had to work the next day. And UltraMom? In the backyard, watching fireworks alone: I long ago let Murphy and Rowdy back into the house as they were both quivering like jello. Which leads me to ponder fireworks and 4ths of July in years past……but that’s for another post.
Happy American Independence Day to you, wherever you are,