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We brought Charlee and Ruby home six weeks ago. As instructed by the adoption organization, we confined them to a small space, gradually expanding their range as they acclimatized. Except only one of the sisters, Charlee, seemed to be doing much acclimatizing. Ruby continues to be reticent, either by nature or as a response to her first adoption experience, in which she found her self in a home with an overly friendly dog.
They started in a bathroom, then had run of a bedroom, then the bedroom and an adjacent bathroom, and then that space along with our master bedroom. Charlee took quickly to each expansion, Ruby less so. Eventually we extended their range during the evenings to part of the first floor, keeping them out of the kitchen remodel. Charlee would sit with us, occasionally escaping to the basement if we left the stairway door open.
Finally, the remodel reached a point two days ago at which we could begin to use the new kitchen. It’s not finished. There’s a long list of items to be dealt with. But it’s functioning, and so we have been moving in. The cats too.
You can see, above, how settled in Charlee is. She has made the kitchen hers. And below, Ruby is checking out the birds. However shy she is, she shares Charlee’s curiosity. She just doesn’t want us to be in the way when she’s exploring.
Maybe they’re beginning to enjoy life.
A couple of weekends ago, I noticed that our first crocuses had opened, with daffodil shoots everywhere. Last weekend brought a couple of inches of snow. Hence my surprise when I wandered into the backyard this afternoon at the conclusion of a neighborhood walk and came upon daffodil yellow.
Near the crocuses, three daffodils had started to open. Across the way, the lone daffodil pictured above was in a later stage of openness. Spring has arrived.
It’s been seven months since we lost our sweet Emma. Gail has insisted that once the remodel is done, we will bring home new residents. I found myself in no hurry.
But with the remodel showing no signs of ending, Gail’s patience had waned. When our friend Brooke mentioned on Tuesday that All The Best Pet Care on Lake City Way had two sisters up for adoption, Gail got it in her head that these were the cats destined to share our house with us.
Gail called first thing Wednesday morning, thinking that even though it was New Year’s Day, someone had to be there to feed the cats. Actually, one of the store staff—Jen—had been their foster mother for two months, taking them home each night. Thursday Gail called again, confirming that the girls were still available. She and Jessica showed up in the afternoon.
Friday, once I was done at work, we all (Gail, Jessica, Joel, and I) met there and spent 45 minutes with the cats in a special quiet room. They are 7 1/2 months old. Jen had named them Ruby and Rose. Until she came in to join us, they spent most of their time heading to the corners, but her presence calmed them. She told us that just a few days earlier, in discussing with Janice (the woman in charge of adoptions for the organization that had placed the cats with the store) what kind of family the cats needed, she posited that a professor would be a good match. And here I was, a professor. Providential for sure.
Yesterday morning, Janice called the house and interviewed Gail for half an hour. The key issues were, don’t declaw the cats, don’t let them outside, feed them wet food. Once we got past that, the question of how to manage the transition arose, the woman insisting that the cats be kept in a small enclosed space, preferably a bathroom, to start their adjustment. We agreed. A few hours later, we were at the store, ready to complete the adoption.
Food, litter, litter box, scoop, toys, treats. What else? Scratching board. A free throw-in: the bed they had been sleeping in. But the adoption fee had to be paid by cash or check. Oops. No one had mentioned that. We paid for the supplies, drove to an ATM, returned with cash, took the cats to the car, picked up a takeout dinner, and headed home.
Gail put the cats in the assigned bathroom. I brought our dinner in, she set up their dinner and litter. We ate, checked in on them, and found that they had eaten in parallel, devouring all their food. That was 26 hours ago. There’s little to report since then.
I can’t help thinking they’d prefer run of the house. There’s not much they can do in the bathroom. One of them made quick work of one of the toys, a stick with dangling feathers, tearing all the feathers off in short order. This morning, when Gail went in to spend time with them, they headed for the farthest corner, behind the toilet.
This afternoon, my futile attempt to provide company drove them into the litter box.
Better days await. If only our co-occupants shared our confidence in that.
Bear with me on this one. I wouldn’t ordinarily use the blog to be a Budweiser shill, but I just love this promotion. And since it’s for Budweiser Canada, we don’t even get to see it here in the US. First, watch the video above. Go ahead. It’s less than a minute long. Then, read Raju Mudhar’s explanation a month ago in the Toronto Star:
Budweiser Canada is launching an ambitious campaign that it hopes will literally score with consumers.
The brewer’s one-minute ad [on Super Bowl] Sunday will launch Budweiser Red Lights, replicas of the goal light that shines whenever your favourite NHL team scores. It has created a spokesperson, Ron Kovacs, the hockey-loving inventor of the Red Light who — beyond just appearing in the spots and teasers — may actually come to your home to install it.
The home version can be synced to your favourite team. It will flare and a horn will blare whenever your team puts one in the net, even if you’re not actually watching the game. It’s a piece of the rink in your home, or more likely, your man cave.
Kovacs’ entirely fictional back story is that of a hockey-crazed inventor who wants to bring a bit of the game experience into homes. Beyond the main ad, which shows him in action installing the light at a home where people are watching a game, there are extended clips online telling his story, including his second in command, Vance, who helps with installations. It’s a sort of hockey-mad spin on the “most interesting man in the world” beer-spokesperson trend.
“If I come to your house to install it, you’d better bet we’re going to talk hockey,” Kovacs says.
Available online at Budweiser.ca on Sunday after the spot airs, they will cost $149.99, although the company say it is taking a loss in hopes of creating buzz and demand for the product.
“We’re not making money off this thing, I can guarantee you that,” says Norrington. “The opposite, quite frankly, but we spent a lot of time to get it right. It is simple, and it’s not going to make you breakfast in the morning, but it’s going to go off every time your team scores.”
My days of intense hockey fandom are past, but I have to say, there was a time when I would have thought seriously about buying one. Especially if Ron came over to install it.
I recommend a look at the CBC interview with Ron Kovacs, which you can find by going here, scrolling down a bit, and clicking on the video. You’ll have to sit through two ads, but then you’ll be treated to Monika Platek’s interview.
Tempted? You can order one here. New orders are scheduled for shipping the week of June 10. That’s just in time for the Stanley Cup finals.
Gail, what do you think? (And Russ, do you have one yet?)
During our trip to New York last week, we wanted to get from Manhattan out to Long Island. Between gas shortages, tunnel closures, power outages, non-working traffic lights, uncertain commuter train schedules, and blocked roads, we weren’t sure how good an idea this was. But the Hertz outlet four blocks down the street from us had cars. From there, we could hop on the FDR Drive, go over the Triborough Bridge, and be on the island. Plus, at the end, we could return our car as is, not worrying about 3+ hour waits to refill the gas tank. So off we went.
It was Sunday morning. Traffic was light. Soon we were over the bridge into Queens, past LaGuardia, onto the Long Island Expressway, and headed east. There were few signs of the storm from the road itself. As we passed from Queens into Nassau County, we could see a caravan of orange trucks filling the middle lane of the expressway ahead. Maybe a dozen long, all from Asplundh, which I’ve long known as a tree service company, but only now learn is specifically focused on clearing lines for power companies.
Since 1928 the Asplundh Tree Expert Co. has been dedicated to safe, efficient and innovative line clearance services to the utility industry. Reliable, uninterrupted power is an important service provided by the world’s electrical utilities and Asplundh has the expertise to help keep the power flowing. …
As a full-service utility contractor Asplundh performs tree pruning and removals, right-of-way clearing and maintenance, vegetation management with herbicides and emergency storm work and logistical support.
A few miles later, we pulled off the expressway onto local roads. Heading down one, we understood the purpose of the caravans. On this heavily wooded road, another caravan of Asplundh trucks was spread out over a stretch of about a half mile, turning the two-lane road into an alternation of one- and two-lane stretches, with wood chips and debris all over as they removed giant branches and downed trees.
Soon we were at our family home. The yard had taken a beating. Above, you can see a tree down in the front yard. Fortunately, it fell toward the street. To the back, a tree fell toward and partly onto a corner of the house, pulling power lines with it. More than that, the pressure on the lines split a telephone pole. The lower third stuck up from the ground. The upper two-thirds fell to the ground, along with a transformer, as pictured below.
In late afternoon, as we left the house, we could hear a crew working a little farther down the line. Soon they came to the house and discovered the downed transformer. That was six afternoons ago. Two days later they had a new pole and transformer up. Only this afternoon was power restored, six days after they began work in the neighborhood, twelve days after Sandy came through.
Our drive back into Manhattan was uneventful. The Asplundh caravan was gone, the road we passed them on now clear. Traffic lights were still out, with a detour in place at the big intersection of the main north-south road and the east-west Long Island Expressway service road in order to manage traffic flow. (The north-south road is some 7 lanes wide. A simple stop-and-go pattern wasn’t going to work well. Westbound traffic was forced to turn north, with the option a few hundred yards later of turning back south in order to get across the intersection.) Once through the detour, we entered the Expressway, headed back into Queens, over the Triborough, and onto FDR Drive to go south along the East River. I should have gotten off at 96th, but instead got greedy and stayed on, aiming for an exit closer to Hertz, only to encounter our only traffic of the trip. One mile and 15 minutes later, we exited, drove up 1st Avenue, down 2nd, and into Hertz. Easy trip.
Northern Nassau County got hit pretty hard, but we knew we hadn’t seen anything near the worst of it. We are thankful for all the crews from around the country who have been working tirelessly to clear roads and restore power.
It’s not entirely news that there are eagles from time to time in our neighborhood, but when I see one, I still get excited. Three Junes ago, I wrote in passing about an eagle sighting on the north end of Foster Island. Today, at the same location, I saw the juvenile pictured above.
We are fortunate to live close to Seattle’s Washington Park Arboretum, a city park managed by the University of Washington as part of the larger entity, UW Botanical Gardens. (The UWBG is directed by my friend Sarah Reichard whose book The Conscientious Gardener was the subject of a post of mine last June.) Foster Island is its northernmost portion, as you can see on the map below, on which north is to the right. Our house is on the map too, making it a short walk to the island.
You’ll also see the island’s one drawback, the fact that State Route 520 happens to run across it. A pedestrian tunnel provides access to Foster Island’s north end, with the highway well hidden visually, but not aurally. On weekends such as this one, when SR-520 is closed to traffic because of maintenance work or construction, a walk across the island is mandatory.
Once through the tunnel, it’s a straight walk of about 200 yards north to a clearing on the edge of the island, on the shoreline of Union Bay, with an outlook across Lake Washington to the east, the Montlake Cut (an artificial waterway with a drawbridge) dividing the north and south sides of Seattle to the west, the university to the northwest, and the Laurelhurst neighborhood to the northeast. The northernmost tall tree on the east side of the clearing is the eagle hangout. I zoomed in below.
Not the best photos. Sorry.
I don’t want to make too big a deal about the weather here this week. It’s not like we’ve gotten all that much snow, though other parts of western Washington did. And it’s not like getting snow is all that unusual, though some winters we don’t get any. (It’s typical when the colder winter storms move through that temperatures hover right at the rain/snow line, bringing snow to higher elevations or to areas a little outside Seattle that lack the dual moderating influences of Puget Sound and Lake Washington, with just traces of snow falling within Seattle.) But I have to say, it’s unusual to have six consecutive days of snow. And today’s sleet/ice/snow caught the forecasters by surprise.
I should explain or remind readers that snow tends to stop traffic in Seattle, especially when it turns to ice, because we’re a city of hills but not a city of plows. When I first moved here, roads just didn’t get plowed. Now the major roads do. But when snow is followed by falling temperatures and ice, the city comes to a standstill.
I wrote on Sunday about the early stages of this unexpected weather. On Saturday, it snowed briefly. I got in the car, dashed down to the local commercial neighborhood, and took care of some errands, but the snow had stopped before I got home. Sunday brought big snow in some areas, 3-4 inches here. Monday was cooler. Not too bad a day. No significant accumulations. The snow on the roads was packed hard and we kept the cars in. We walked down to the commercial neighborhood for lunch and to buy provisions. (Monday was a holiday, so getting to work wasn’t an issue.)
Tuesday was supposed to be the calm before the big storm on Wednesday. I drove to school, with temperatures in the high 30s. To my surprise, it was precipitating when I arrived, a sleety snow. By noon it was flat out snowing, and did so for a couple of hours. Very light, and with the temperatures still well above freezing, nothing stuck. From late afternoon through the evening, there was lots of melting. The drive home was easy, and at home I could hear melting water pouring through the downspouts.
The Wednesday storm (yesterday) was initially predicted, days ago, to be part of a big warm front with early snow followed by heavy rain and melting. Then it appeared that the storm would come through farther south, bringing very heavy snow here, on the order of a foot. By Tuesday night, the prediction was downgraded to 2-5 inches here, and that turned out to be about right. The big issue was whether I should get up early and walk in to school for class. Or could I drive? Or would school shut down, something it never used to do, but has in recent years in order to keep thousands of commuters off the roads? By 10:20 PM Tuesday there was no closure announcement, so I went to bed ready to get up early. But I awoke around 12:45 AM, reached for my iPad, and discovered I had missed the closure announcement, which had come through around 10:45 PM. No school. I shut the alarm.
The snow didn’t start yesterday until 4:00 AM, and never fell heavily here in Seattle, but didn’t stop until early afternoon, leaving another 3-4 inches on the ground. As predicted, snow was much heavier to the south, as much as 12-15 inches over southwest Washington. And still farther south, in Oregon, the warm front we were supposed to get had arrived, with temperatures of 50 degrees. An icy precipitation continued to fall later in the day, but nothing significant. Nonetheless, at 8:50 last night, the university announced a closure for today too. Today was supposed to be a transitional day, cold but with little precipitation, with warm air and rain finally arriving tomorrow.
Well, that didn’t happen. As local weather expert Cliff Mass explained this morning, everyone got the prediction wrong. What we got instead was an ice storm. Real bad to the south, where there are power outages. Not too bad here. But a complete surprise based on last night’s outlook. Still, as of this morning, the sleet was to stop by 1:00 PM this afternoon. Instead, it turned to snow, which is still falling. Gail and I walked down to the stores again a couple of hours ago, got some lunch, bought some food. It wasn’t too bad. Packed snow on the roads, crunchy snow where no one had driven or walked. The snow still falling is light.
We’re still supposed to get warmer weather starting tomorrow. Days of it, 40s and rain. This will all be gone quickly. The big question is whether the roads will be safe in the morning, before the warming and rain do their work. In particular, will the university close again? If it doesn’t, will anyone besides me show up to my class? It’s a disaster either way — missing yet another class, or holding a class to which few people come. With the Monday holiday, this whole week is turning into a disaster, making a mess of the start of the term.
I took the photo at the top with my iPhone on our return from this afternoon’s outing. Just for the heck of it, I offer a contrast below, a shot of Sankaty Head lighthouse in Nantucket taken last September as we cycled back from ‘Sconset to Wauwinet. I would say I’d rather be there, but, you know, it’s actually quite lovely here.