1000 words

Here they are - the thousand words, I mean:



Yep, we are cat owners. I think what put us over the edge was an incident the other week, when Q saw me petting Hobie and came to see if he could piggy-back on it and pet Hobie too. Hobie will put up with being petted by them if Janneke or myself has him pretty well smothered in adult attention. But this time, as Q's hand approached, Hobie gave him a snarl, and Q collapsed against me and cried. Janneke and I looked at each other and pretty well decided, "They need a nice animal."

But Janneke doesn't want two dogs yet. So we compromised.

We didn't let the kids in on the idea until we were actually in the pet store in Pittsfield where the municipal animal shelter does adoptions on Saturdays. We had sold them on the story that we needed to get more food for Hobie (which was true), and that this was the reason we were in the store. And we just happened to wander back to the cat area and start pulling them out of the cages and playing with them in the little fenced-in area.

This cat really had no competition. She was friendly, if not desperate for attention, and active and playful, while just about all the others were sullen and preferred to hide under the bench. Never got a purr out of any of them but this one. We weren't in love, exactly - she was a long-haired cat, which we weren't crazy about, and our friends Brad and Betsy had just gotten a cat that was such a love-sponge that even our animal-love-starved kids eventually gave up on cuddling him and wandered off to do other things. That's really what we were looking for, and this one wasn't it.

But there was something we liked a lot - she seemed so wholesome and confident, and absolutely beautiful. I loved her little black ear tufts. And so we filled out the forms and by the time we got home, we had a message saying we had been approved.

I went on line last night to do some investigating about what to do with long-haired cats, whether one can effectively trim them, etc. And knowing that this was a semi-long-haired cat, I did an image search for such a thing, and came up with this:



And, I mean, whoah. That's the same cat. Here's another picture of ours - her eyes look a little glazed in this one, so I didn't want it to be your first impression, but it is more detailed, and the resemblance gets harder and harder to deny:



And the image was from a website that sells Maine Coon cats.

So I read about them, and found out that they're huuuuuge. The longest cat ever measured, apparently, was a Maine coon. And they're above-average in intelligence, and they're affectionate, but not clingy (bingo). And they are rumored to have bobcat somewhere in their genes - hence the ear-tufts. (Not sure I buy that.) But, I thought, why would this cat have no other bidders on it, if it's obviously of some fancy breed? Why would a breed kitten wind up being given away at the animal shelter?

Some of these questions were answered today when I went in to pick up the little gal. For starters, she had only just had her fixing surgery on the 22nd, so this was her first foray into being adoptable. And she wasn't found on the street - she was brought to the shelter by someone who had received her as a gift, and had turned out to be allergic. I asked, "Is she a Maine Coon?"

The woman at the shelter said, "Well, maybe she has some in her."

And then she picked her up and remarked, "Well, for 3 months old, she is pretty darn big. And she's really long."

I nodded. "I heard last night that the longest cat every measured was a Maine coon."

So I have no papers, but I'm just about sure: That's what we have. Here's what they look like when they get big:



I can't wait. But of course I can - she's been perfect so far. We bought her a cat tower, to which she took immediately. She's had two naps there so far today. She's used her litterbox and eaten out of her cat dish, and gets on perfectly well with Hobie, who pretty much ignores her. And right now she's on the floor with Q, frolicking. She is just great.

OOPS! - I forgot to tell you her name! Janneke came up with it. She's sunny and happy, and has lots of different colors. So that can only lead to...

"Skittles."

Bienvenida!

Snow Day Video

Howdy, fearless defenders of the faith! I bestow unto you herewith a moving daguerrotype depicting the way in which we here in the wilds of Western Massachusetts survive in the deepest and darkest of winters. Behold!, we are brave and strong:

Birthday Boy Video!

Here it is! It's been a very productive couple of days, video-wise. So enjoy the fruits of my labors. And the fruit of my loins.

Adventures in Moving Pictures

So our friend Brad, the choir director at Williams, is starting a very nifty project, and, inspired by the emails we used to get as supporters of Barack Obama, in which there would be a video of the higher-ups in the campaign, he decided to make a video that he could embed in an email and send out to potential donors. He asked me to help him, and we brainstormed, shot script ideas back and forth, did some practice runs, and then sat down and filmed the $@!@#$(*^ thing. Brad then edited it together, and the result is linked below for your perusal. And i think it came out absolutely fabulous. Once the rubber hit the road, I ran the camera and flipped the cue cards, while Brad made the magic happen. Check it out, it's way cool:



My vacation started early on Friday. Snow day! Even though the snow didn't actually start falling until nearly noon, our beloved and exceedingly wise superintendent pulled the trigger and took no chances, forcing us to stay home for all of Friday. It was grand.

Today was grand too, though I did not get out and hunt. I'm feeling a little sickly again - nasal stuff this time. Not sure what to think. So I stayed in and rested. The snow has been glorious - we did quite a bit of video shooting yesterday and today, so hopefully I'll be able to get that up on here before too long. Been clearing some old projects out of the way - the video for Quinn's birthday, and another that's basically odds and ends from the summer that don't coalesce by themselves into a form that makes for a compelling narrative, but which I've concocted into a stew that might still be satisfying.

There - I did it! Here's Part 1:



And here's Part 2:



Q had his friend O over today, and they spent 90% of their time outside building a snow fort. There was this whole narrative going on of how they would defend themselves against "bullies" (I'm picturing thickset kids from 1935 with plugs of tabacky and slouch caps, slingshots poking out of their back pockets, the whole nine yards). It was cold out, too - never got above 19 degrees today. But through the miracle of snow pants, they were able to stay out the whole time. T went out for a good amount of the day as well, and they played with her beautifully - Y'know, he was here for hours, had lunch with us, and never, not once, was there a squabble, not only between O and Q, but among the three of them. They never got impatient with her, she never felt ignored...What a successful interaction.

O's Dad came and took him skiing at 4:30 or so, and we settled in for some video-watchin' (the video I may or may not get up tonight) and shower-takin' before supper, since after supper we were scheduled to go to our friend Ed's house, because Ed got tenure! (As did Nicole across the street - one of Rafi and Luca's moms!) He had us over for desserts and "grapa", an Italian licqueure (the computer tells me that's spelled wrong, but I forge bravely ahead, since most of the letters there look like they shouldn't be there, but I know that they're not all wrong, and so I'm paralyzed). It was very nice - the kids all sat and watched "The Wizard of Oz", thus enabling Janneke to keep the promise she had made T - that they would watch it tonight on TV, as it was to be broadcast.

T made Christmas cookies with Janneke today, and that's also in the video pipeline...Y'know, I should probably get my act together and start cooking up these videos rather than sit here and describe them to you. I got this one up - I'm on vacation, I can do the others too. Shouldn't take too long, provided I don't do any household chores. (Don't tell Janneke.)

Upstate Theatricality

Hey, folks - It's really late, but I haven't given you the latest for a good little while, so I'll just shoot you some highlights quick before I hit the hay:

I was home sick two days last week with a stomach thing, and now T appears to be coming down with it. More on that later. Had an ultrasound done, I did, and an x-ray on the abdomen, and there were no knitting needles or staplers lodged down there. Other than that, I don't think we determined much.

Ain't seen hide nor hair neither of buck nor doe up yonder on Ragged Mountain. And that, again, is more than enough of that.

Hobie is ever more palsied and rickety. He still enjoys life, but the decline is becoming precipitous. More and more eye goo, deafness now that is all but total, a tendency to wander over to you and lean heavily, asking for attention like an old drunk hitting up a barely-recognized former gradeschool classmate for a drink...He followed me downstairs this morning for some reason, and I had to go back down and carry him up. Can't do hardwood stairs - his feet don't get enough purchase, and the slipperiness is more information than his brain can process. Stiff in the hips, paler and paler, shedding more and more...He's still nice to have around, but I suspect it won't be long. (Now watch him show up in Q's high school graduation photos.)

T has taken to preparing breakfast in the morning for whichever parent she can. I was home sick on Thursday and so was the recipient of a tray with any number of plastic food items on it. She doesn't ask permission, doesn't ask what you want - she just walks in, carefully balancing her brimming tray, and announces it to you. It is the warmest and most delightful thing anyone has ever experienced, ever.

Q spends probably a total of at least an hour of each home day at the piano - APART FROM practice time with Mami. And he isn't just hammering out "Crazy Frog" as fast as he can (though he does do that) - he's going ahead in his books and checking out what next week's lesson will bring, he's refining his attention to subtleties in the pieces he's working on how, he's inventing minor-key versions of songs he learned to play weeks ago, alternating between those and the major versions he's learned...It's fascinating to listen to. I'm scared to mess it up so I don't say much, but Janneke and I will just look at each other and smile when he heads that way. Best pile of money we ever spent.

Though the Dyson Ball vacuum cleaner is at the top of the list too. It is just brilliant. Spending the big bucks on a vacuum cleaner is so worth it. (Though the Rainbow was just waaay too much.)

Spent the afternoon today on a field trip to Schenectady, NY, where we watched a community theater production of a locally written and produced play called "The Land of the Night Before". I'm sure the theater group has a website somewhere - it was at the Proctor's complex, which has a giant theater (that was holding a performance of The Nutcracker today at the same time as our play, and which attracted a whole separate class of people, from what we could see - we had kind of had enough of that show last year, and so vowed to do a different sort of Christmas outing this year) and a smaller theater space a couple of doors down. They seem to dominate much of the old downtown in Schenectady. (I just revel in the fact that I can spell that. "Schenectady". Though I'm still not too clear on "Poughkeepsie".)

It was very "Waiting for Guffman" - original songs, local folks with well-hidden dreams of making it big, a cast of fifty-year-olds and seventh graders, hand-painted scenery, a spotlight that you could hear every time it fired up - I think they were actually shoveling coal into it. Not a big-budget production.

But over a hundred people, probably, clapping and laughing, and probably forty involved in the production. There was a lot to make fun of - and Janneke and I were sneaking sidelong glances at each other all afternoon. The plot was that there's this place where they're perpetually locked in "The Night Before..." - and nobody there knows what comes the next day, because the next day never comes. And some magical travelers come through and are perplexed by the situation - gifts that never ever get opened, trees that are circularly decorated and undecorated all day long - and you're sure, of course, that these travelers will show the people that the true joy of "The Holiday" ("Christmas" is never mentioned, which reeeeeally grated on us after not very long at all) is in its oh-so-ephemeral, and therefore, glorious, completion.

But no, in the end the travelers decide that the townspeople are better off being perpetually blue-balled by Christmas (sorry - "The Holiday That Shall Not Be Named"), and they all sing happily about how great it is never to achieve fulfillment. Which is just very, very weird. (Janneke was the first to connect "The Holiday" and "It" as something that good kids can play around with, and maybe even come close to, but can never actually do.)

But I can't bring myself to make too much fun of it, because we had this overwhelming impression throughout, for so many reasons, that the world is a far, far better place for having seen this production. The writers, the producers, the directors, the musicians, the actors, the stage hands, the volunteer ushers - Everyone was so tickled to be living their lives in this very full way, producing something that is new and is theirs, and which never would have been had they not come together as a community and done it. It was very appropriate to be in upstate New York and feel such a Bedford Falls-type event coming into being. I could almost see Bert the cop and Ernie the taxi driver sneaking into the chorus on a couple of numbers.

We had a lot of other things in common with "It's A Wonderful Life" too. T had taken her dramamine before the trip, and when the play started, and when its quality became pretty apparent, T started to complain about being sick. We assumed this was her being dramatic about her medicine, which she does a lot, as an excuse to not have to stay in the theater and be bored. So we told her we weren't going to leave, that she could lie down in our laps if she wanted but she wasn't getting out. "Am I gonna throw up?", she'd ask, with that strange belief that we would know, and that strange belief that whatever vaguely travel-related activity she partakes in might somehow result in vomit. Last time I'd heard it was when we got pulled over for a burnt-out tail light on the way to a movie. "No, T," we said, "you are not going to throw up. You're not sick, you just want to move, but you can't right now. Settle down and watch the play, please."

Then she threw up. So both T and Zuzu had holiday heaves. I caught some in my hands, Janneke some more in hers, and I carried her (T, not Janneke) to the bathroom and cleaned us both up. (I just now wonder how Janneke managed to clean herself off - she stayed behind with Q, who, by now, has seen T vomit so many times that he hardly even blinks. Just lifts his hands to protect his eyes and keeps watching. But, hey, I shouldn't worry about how or if she managed to clean up. This is Janneke. She probably has a firehose and an autoclave in her purse - I'm sure she did just fine.) Then T and I went down to the lobby and hung out on a big comfy couch, waiting for intermission and talking about penguins. She felt a lot better, and was able to go in and see the second half of the show, where the giant snowman was finally vanquished and Yule, the magical stranger, overcame his self-doubt and realized with triumphant zeal that he should give up on this whole idea of helping people to actually experience their lives and pretty much just leave well enough alone. Huzzah!

Home to Chinese food, piano lessons, bedtime stories and bedtime. Which I am soon to experience.