Friday, July 22, 2016

And then there were two.

My Dark Legion of cats got a little bit smaller today with the passing of Frey "Fuzzy Butt" Kittehson at the age of 15+ years.  This sweet, crazy little guy had been showing his age for the last few months, but this evening while playing in the back yard he suddenly became unable to walk or even stand on all fours.

An emergency vet trip revealed that he had somehow sustained an extremely bad humeral fracture, with a poor prognosis for recovery due to the severity of the break and his age.

Miss you, Kittens.

Saturday, July 16, 2016

I ain't 'fraid of no sequel!

Just got back from the new Ghostbusters movie.

I like it a lot, and this is coming from someone who adores the original.  Definitely a fun way to invest a few bucks and a few hours, and I'm glad I went.

If you go, keep a sharp eye out for subverted Ghostbusters tropes and cameo appearances.

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Think Like A God Day 2016: Divine Intervention 101

Welcome to the 2016 edition of Think Like a God Day! Once a year, on July 13, I ponder what it's like to be a deity and ask you (or in this case, You) to do likewise.

This year's topic is "The pros and cons of being a Cosmic Cop."  In other words, how do You react when it is brought to Your attention that mortals are behaving badly? Do You:

  • Grab Sword of Righteousness, Cloak of Divine Awesomeness and Boots of Butt-Kicking and hustle down to the Prime Material Plane to give 'em what-for;
  • Go incognito and quietly tinker with the troublemakers' reality, making their comeuppance look like a totally, completely un-divine misadventure (bonus points if it makes the "News of the Weird" section of the paper);
  • Delegate to a minion and get on with other things, like e-mailing Prometheus to ask him if he'd like a couple of tickets to the Eagles game;
  • Drop hints to the miscreants' fellow mortals and wait for human justice to assert itself;
  • Sigh heavily and make a mental note to deal with it later;
  • Nod sagely and check off another item on the Divine Plan;
  • Shrug, smile and say "100 quadrillion years from now, who'll know the difference?"

For the record, My preferred option is #2 (Stealth Goddess with wicked sense of humor), but unfortunately My magisteria somewhat limit the ways in which I can intervene. I have no intention of weaponizing the Vernal Equinox, punctuation is too low-caliber to hurt anything more than someone's pride, and any Sword of Righteousness made of chocolate would *burp* get eaten long before I reached the battlefield.

That said, if a high-profile evildoer were to be captured by the authorities because of a Random Equipment Malfunction -- say, a getaway car suffering a catastrophic failure of the universal joint right outside Police Headquarters -- I'll just smile and wave, and disavow knowledge of My own [in]actions.

Saturday, July 9, 2016

Life is too short to drink cheap plonk.

That's it.  I am done.  I am so done.

I am not buying any more blended "bottled in Canada" wine.  From hereon in, I'm sticking with the good stuff, made from grapes actually grown here.

This evening I was indulging one of My more delightful hobbies -- cooking -- and currently have a Moroccan lamb stew finishing in a cast iron Dutch oven on the stove.  It needed that something extra, a bit of orange juice and a few scrapings of orange rind, and I had also been making noises about going to the Liquor Commission to pick up a bottle of red wine.

Somewhere between getting the car out of the garage and arriving at the LC I made the above resolution to support better products from Canadian wineries.  What sealed the deal was memories of college 40 years ago, when the usual wine served at parties came in gallon jugs and was served in clear plastic cups.  To this day I refer to the contents of those gallon jugs as "Chateau de Ping-Pong."

No, I think I can do better.  I know I can do better.  (pours a glass of baco noir, takes a sip, and sets it aside to breathe till the stew is ready)  Skál!


Sunday, June 26, 2016

Razzafracking emojis.

*mutter mutter mutter*  Stupid bright yellow disembodied heads with goofy expressions.  Balloons floating above the till at the supermarket.  Little stuffed ones lined up on the dashboard of a van on the street.  Ever-[redacted]-where.

Why?

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Time flies. So does cat fur.

14 years ago today a lovely tabby Siamese named Freyja gave birth to her kittens on My living room couch.

Happy birthday to Caramon the Tum-Tum Cat and RJ-45, the two surviving members of Freyja's Dark Legion.

In memory of Raistlin, Walter, and Grayscale.

Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Springy G versus the Salad Spinner of Certain Doom

Inspired by My recent post on arpeggios, and continuing the theme of challenging some of the more bizarre and irrational behaviours that plague My current existence --

-- Let's talk about salads.

I love eating salads.  Greek salad, Caesar salad, chef salad, spring mix with baby beets and goat cheese and candied pecans with a drizzle of balsamic reduction.  Yum.

Here, however, is a short list of things I would rather do than make a salad:
  • Climb 20-foot ladder and clear leaves out of eavestroughs
  • Do My taxes
  • Run a truckload of plaster and lath to the city dump
  • Drive out to band practice in a raging thunderstorm
  • Clean the Dark Legion's litter boxes...
...That's the gist of it.

This isn't to say that I don't make salads; I do, when I eventually get around to it.  Although I still haven't quite figured out how to make a decent Caesar dressing, I can assemble the rest of it with no major issues.  My Greek village salad (everything but lettuce) is just fine, as is the lettuce-enhanced version.

I do, however, have a nasty habit of conveniently forgetting that I have perishable salad ingredients in the fridge, and have lost a few proto-salads due to ingredient rot.  As a result, I try to avoid buying greens and such until I'm good and ready to make an honest-to-goodness salad out of them.

Right then and there.

The very instant I get the groceries into the house.

No sojourns in the fridge allowed, at least not till the salad is actually assembled.

(glances out window at somewhat menacing skies; clicks over to the local weather webpage) Just as I thought -- Chance of a raging thunderstorm tonight.  I'll be back after band practice.

Maybe even with a salad.