Zipcodestats

Are you keeping up with the Joneses? Do you even know what's UP with the Joneses?

Check out this absolutely fascinating look at your neighborhood through the lens of the census and other data: Zipcodestats. An amazing wealth of detail is available on all sorts of demographic information.

Faceblind

This article in Wired, about people who are developmentally incapable of recognizing faces (a condition previously thought only to occur in victims of brain damage) is fascinating. The best guess of these researchers is that two percent of the population is faceblind....

It's hard for me to imagine what a challenge it must be to go through life this way. If you, or someone you know, has a really hard time recognizing people, point them to faceblind.org.

In memoriam

Love never dies.

Goodbye sweet girl

The best, most affectionate, most beautiful kitty in the world is gone. I had to say goodbye to her before she started to suffer.

She is buried in David and Lynn's back yard, under a young magnolia tree. There is a rose in the grave with her, and one on the fresh mound of earth.

I am so sad I can hardly breathe.

If Ariel does not run up to me ~ chirping a greeting and purring her wonderfully warm, loud purr ~ when I knock on heaven's door, then I don't want to go there. Send me to the other place.

The Kindness of the Anonymous

Someone sent me flowers. There was no note, although a suspiciously New-Yorkish phone number appeared on the address label.

Thanks to whomever you are; I am grateful for your thoughtfulness. I'm trying very, very hard not to think of them as funereal.

And still she purrs

She's eating very little, and isn't much interested in playing. But she still purrs when she snuggles up to me in the morning. She purrs when she sits on my lap. She purrs when I scratch under her chin, usually.

Life is not what it was for her. But, today, I think it is still good enough.

I hope I will be brave enough to recognize when that will no longer be true.

Ariel has FIP

It's quite certain now.

FIP is pretty much invariably fatal. Perhaps Ariel can be a miracle kitty and survive, but I must expect that she will not.

Now I have to decide how long she will live and how she will die.

She has the "wet" version of the disease, which tends to progress quite quickly. At the moment she doesn't seem to be unhappy or uncomfortable, although she's not eating much and is sleeping a lot. I don't want her to suffer, and so it seems it would be better for her end to come earlier rather than too much later. I have no idea how to make that decision, but I don't want my fear and anxiety to cause her pain that could and should be avoided.

Friendship Hospital gave me the numbers of a couple of vets who make house calls, and who might be able to provide the good death here at home. I think we would both prefer that.

My heart is breaking for the little girl who is so sweet and good.

Overwhelmed

I am up to my eyeballs in work.

I have a midterm to study for.

My father is back in the hospital.

And my lovely Ariel is probably mortally ill. I am taking her to the vet tomorrow afternoon.

I have a vicious cold that won't quit.

...

Good news would be welcome any time now.

So beautiful

Perhaps you believe your kitty to be more beautiful than mine. You are entitled to your opinion. (Your misguided, utterly incorrect opinion.)

There is, in fact, no more beautiful kitty than mine. Even when she has schmutz in the corner of her eye.

Ariel and the New Mousey Toy

I continue to be very anxious about the little furry girl's health. I'm constantly monitoring her appetite, and now I'm wondering if her abdomen isn't getting a little bloated (which would really be a bad sign).

I think I'll probably ask for an appointment this week for another round of blood work, just to see what's up.

How could such a wonderful kitty possibly be sick?

Nietzche Family Circus

This site combines a Family Circus cartoon with a Nietzche quotation, to fantastic effect. Very postmodern, and yet so apropos!

Updates

Ariel may be sick, but you wouldn't know it from her general demeanor. Here is a recent snippet... more to come.



My Dad has been moved from the hospital to a rehab facility, and seems to be doing reasonably well. My sister reports that he is in good spirits.

I am sick as a dog with a nasty cold. I sound like a Disney character and my body is producing a phlegm that, sad to say, is a particularly unpleasant shade of green. Looking forward to this being over with.