My Commonplace Book

Therapeutic value of blogging

Thu, 05 Mar 2009 06:11:51 GMT

Blogging--It's Good for You says the Scientific American.

A neuroscientist posits that blogging is a form of expressive writing, something which has already been shown to be therapeutic, and embarks on a study trying to demonstrate the reasons.

Another reason for me to get back in the habit!

Mapping of the cat brain

Tue, 03 Mar 2009 06:53:38 GMT

(Originally published in MS Magazine, Vol III, #1, July/August 1992)

Teenager Audio Test

Mon, 02 Mar 2009 06:25:34 GMT

Testing conditions: I didn't touch the volume on my computer, just left it where it usually is, and the room is very quiet.

The level I heard it at was very low -- but I did hear it clearly! I'm sure I wouldn't notice it in a noisy retail environment, although it might be enough to make me feel uncomfortable without my knowing why.

Pretty good for a 61-year-old!

Created by Train Horns

New refrigerator

Sat, 28 Feb 2009 07:06:03 GMT

I have a new refrigerator!

The old one was 18 years old, and literally falling apart. The top freezer had been leaking water into the refrigerator every time it went through the defrost cycle for many years; when I finally figured out why things were all wet periodically, I put in a TV dinner tray on the top shelf where the leak was, and as long as I remembered to empty it often enough it solved the problem. The refrigerator compartment light quit years ago, and the freezer light was starting to become unreliable, so I had to turn on the big ceiling light just to get anything out of it. Various shelves fell off the door periodically, but they'd stay on for months when I put them back. It did keep food cold -- in fact, the refrigerator temperature was so uneven that in certain areas food would freeze, so when I went digging around in the back I'd sometimes find things that were old, but still perfectly edible.

But I knew I had to replace it when I was downstairs one day last fall cleaning the litter box, and heard a huge whoosh behind me. I spun around to find the ceiling panels falling down amid a big waterfall. When I finally traced the problem down, it turned out to be the icemaker. It had been leaking, unbeknownst to me, for a long time, soaking the kitchen subfloor and then the insulation over the ceiling panels before the weight finally collapsed them and it all fell in. It stopped leaking when I turned off the icemaker, but it was embarrassing to tell guests that they couldn't have any ice, so that finally pushed me into actually ordering one.

So now I have a shiny new refrigerator! Because of my progressive back problems (more on that in another post), I decided it was worth the extra money for a bottom freezer model. It's a Kenmore model 76052.

I love the bottom freezer! No more lost items at the back of the bottom shelf where I couldn't bend down to reach in or even see what was back there. No more pausing to steel myself before bending all the way to the bottom to open the fruit and vegetable bins. I can see everything in the fridge with little or no bending! I do have to bend to get to the freezer, but the whole thing pulls out and the upper basket rolls in and out so I can see everything easily. In the old fridge, even though the freezer was at the top, it was designed poorly and parts of it were more or less inaccessible.

There isn't room in the kitchen of this house, built in 1978 when people didn't expect to have enormous refrigerators, for anything larger than what was then the "normal" size, around 18 cubic feet. Nowadays that's considered very small. This one is 18.3 cu ft. The refrigerator section feels smaller than the other one, but I think that's because there's so much more space in the door bins so the shelves are shorter, and also because the freezer feels larger so the proportions may be somewhat different. But because of the configuration -- which includes two roll-out shelves in the fridge! -- I'll have more actually useful storage space, instead of a whole area good for nothing but long-term science experiments.

I've had it for a couple of weeks, and I'm finally getting used to reaching higher for the handle. But when I was getting ready to put away the oranges I bought yesterday, I took a deep breath before opening the door ... and then realized with joy that I didn't have to bend down to put them away! Plus, it's an Energy Star model, so it's going to use a lot less electricity than the old one did. I wish I hadn't dithered for so long -- if I'd bought it a few years ago it would have practically paid for itself by now. But now that I have it I took advantage of the energy saving to turn the heat up one degree -- now it's set at 67º (F) instead of 66º. Thanks to Maryland's disastrous deregulation attempt (FAIL), our rate has almost doubled in the last two years, so I try to save wherever I can. But it's been a really cold winter and I've been very uncomfortable. So my new refrigerator is even keeping me warm!

Caffeine Test

Sat, 21 Feb 2009 20:28:39 GMT

Cold

Sat, 17 Jan 2009 08:23:56 GMT

It is cold!!! Right now it's 4.6º in my back yard. It's not a record or anything, but it's a lot colder than it usually gets!

Thank goodness I have a good strong heat pump. The electric meter is spinning dizzily, but I'm warm. Well, I'm warm as long as I bundle up. I keep thethermostat at 66º -- our rates recently increased 72%. But I wear sweats and a lined flannel shirt around the house, and I"m fine.

And at least there's no snow. Snow is lovely, but the discs in my spine are falling apart, so I don't want to have to shovel. I love snow, but I'd rather do without it now.

R.I.P. Val (May 22, 1992 - December 2, 2008. Age 16½)

Tue, 13 Jan 2009 08:15:52 GMT

So much for New Year's resolutions ... today is the 13th. But better late than never.

All through the autumnn I just didn't have enough energy to do much of anything. Doing hospice care for Val was wearing both physically and emotionally. His life ended on December 2, but in the depths of my grief I didn't have the heart to post about it -- and I couldn't imagine posting about anything else, or even commenting, without mentioning Val's death. But I keep thinking about things I want to post about, and maybe writing about this will help give me closure.

Val's lymphoma was in his GI tract, so when he was having real problems he couldn't keep down more than a few bites of food. I even had to miss an important family decade-birthday celebration because he was having major difficulty at that time and I had to feed him every half hour. I'd go out locally to shop as long as I could be back within an hour or so, but the party would have kept me away for at least 4-5 hours. It broke my heart to not be there, but I just couldn't go. His symptoms waxed and waned, as his doctor said they would, so there were some times when his care wasn't as difficult to manage. But there was always a lot to do, including a lot of extra cleaning.

Much harder was the emotional toll of watching him decline. His world shrank to pretty much the family room and the kitchen. I set up doggy-steps so he could get up onto his favorite chair and another set to allow him to get onto the couch, where I put a cushion at the end closest to the window so he could watch the birds. Thank goodness I got the laptop when I did -- he didn't like it when I went up to the office, so I did all my computing on the other end of what I now thought of as Val's sofa. But he became very needy of affection, so I couldn't spend much time online -- instead I sat for hours with Val on my lap. During the day I'd watch the birds coming to the feeders; in the evenings I went through a lot of books.

The only time he came upstairs was at night. He mostly stopped accompanying me to get ready for bed, but with yet another set of doggy-steps, every morning when I woke up he would be where he had been for years, snuggled against my back.

The most stressful time was trying to discern when his quality of life had declined to the point of being burdensome. I didn't want him to suffer just because I wanted to keep him with me for a little while longer -- but of course I didn't want to end his life while he was still enjoying it. I wish he could have told me how he felt! It would at least have been easier if there was someone else here who could help me figure out when the pain began to outweigh the pleasure. Conducting a death watch alone was emotionally exhausting.

All fall the pace of Val's illness was accelerating. By Thanksgiving he was still hanging in there -- he was much weaker but his GI symptoms were better at that point, so I told Meredith that I could drive to Virginia for Thanksgiving dinner. (A's parents began inviting me for holiday celebrations so the kids didn't have to split their time, and last year we decided we'd do Thanksgiving there and Christmas here.) But A and her parents said they'd bring the entire Thanksgiving dinner here, so I that I'd neither have to leave Val alone all day nor prepare dinner myself. It was a very thoughtful gift.

Val had an appointment right after the holiday. Dr. O said quietly that she dd not expect Val to make it to the new year. And she was right. He was going downhill very fast by that time, and by the end of November the growth in his belly had become so big that he couldn't lie on it any more. It broke my heart to watch him try to get into the meatloaf position and then roll over onto his side because it hurt too much. He had lost all interest in looking outside -- very literally, he was looking inward. It was time. Ken, as Val's non-custodial parent, asked to be with him when he died. We're on good terms, and I was glad I wouldn't be alone.

Val's euthanasia was as good as an event like that could be. My vet's practice shares the space with a holistic vet, who has a room furnished like a living room. It has a loveseat, carpet, end table with magazines, bookcase with books about animals, and a TV set, all lit gently by a lamp. The home-like atmosphere is incomparably better than the coldness of an examining room with its hard chair, metal table and bright fluorescent lights!. They gave Val a sedative and left the three of us to wait while it took effect. Val just wanted to hide in his carrier, so Ken and I sat and leafed unseeingly through magazines.

Finally Dr. O and her assistant came back in. Unfortunately Val was still awake, and the vet couldn't get the needle into his vein in the dim light with him squirming on my lap. So they took him in the back briefly to put in an IV. By the time they brought him back the sedative had taken full effect and he was unconscious, but Dr. O assured us that he was still alive. I held him in my arms, and moments later, blessed by our tears, he went to the Rainbow Bridge.

Dear Dr. O had tears in her eyes too. Even though she'd been Val's vet for less than a year, she cared about him -- and me -- as much as if she'd known us all his life.

The first several days were terribly hard. The first time I came home to the empty house, I realized something that hadn't occurred to me before: In my entire life, I have never lived alone before. There has always been someone sharing my home, whether human, feline and/or canine -- most of the time two or three species at the same time. By now it's been about six weeks, and I'm starting to adjust.

Of course I'm getting a lot of the same responses I got when Friday died: "Are you going to get another cat?" At least I'm used to it by now. =sigh=

I had an interesting experience about a week after he died. One morning I woke up and felt something pressing against my back. I'd already been through many instances of seeing something out of the corner of my eye or hearing a sound and thinking it was Val, only to realize after that first split-second impression that it was the black computer bag or the upstairs floorboards creaking in the cold or something, so I had begun to internalize the fact that he was gone. So when I felt the pressure against my back I didn't even think of Val -- I figured that I had left my book on the bed last night and rolled over into it. The feeling wasn't hard-edged or unpleasant, so I lay still for awhile while I finished waking up. Eventually when I was ready to get up I reached around behind me to move the book out of the way -- but there was nothing there. I patted around that area looking for the book I was sure must be there -- I could feel it! -- but the bed behind me was empty. I rolled over to look: My book was on the night stand. There was nothing on the bed. But I had clearly felt something pressing against me, even after I was fully awake.

I still didn't think of Val, until a couple of weeks later when the weekly Animal Doctor column ran a letter from someone who had lost her dog; she and her husband had both heard the dog's collar jingling several times since his death. I instantly recalled the feeling of something pressing against my back. I also remembered having clearly felt a cat walking on my bed the night after Val died, which I had assumed at the time was imagination born of grief, although it had certainly felt real. Thinking on these things, I also realized that about a week after Val died was when my intense grief had rather abruptly given way to a feeling of great peace. I tried to account for it with logic, but the only explanation I could come up with was that I had gotten over the loss, and it felt peaceful without all the work and tension.

But that explanation didn't work at all. A week was much too soon to "get over it". And the cessation of work and anxiety was apparent immediately, but it just emphasized the loss, not assuaged it.

Had Val come that next night to check on me and then quietly leave again, as he had done so often in life? Had he come a week later to let me know that he was at peace now and that I should be glad he was free of pain? I don't believe that kind of thing happens ... but I also don't believe it does not happen. I just don't know. I don't believe believe anything supernatural exists ... but there are a great many things under Heaven and Earth that are not dreamed of in our philosophy ... or our current science. For now, I'm choosing to believe that somehow Val gave me the same gifts I'd given him -- the gifts of peace and surcease of suffering.

On Labor Day weekend in 2007 Meredith & A and I went to Philadelphia for the Tutankhamen and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs exhibit at the Franklin Institute. (I thought I'd written about it at the time, but apparently not.) It was wonderful on several levels. It was fascinating and educational -- I had never known anything about ancient Egypt. The objects were exquisite art. And I'd never been close to anything more than a few hundred years old -- thinking about the antiquity of the artifacts just a few inches away was breathtaking.

On the way home I asked Meredith and A what they bought in the gift shop. A showed me her purchase -- a canopic jar -- used for preserving remains -- with the head of Bastet, a goddess with the head of a cat. After I admired it she told me what she was planning to use it for: to keep the ashes of her cats, which she and Meredith were mixing so the cats would always be together. I'd decided to do the same thing after Meredith mentioned it, but it had seemed far in the future then. Now Friday had died less than two weeks previously -- I didn't even have his ashes back yet -- and I hadn't thought at all about what to use as an urn. "Oh, that would have been perfect!" I said, trying to hide my disappointment. "I wish I'd thought to get one."

A didn't say anything. But that Christmas I received the same beautiful jar. It's about 10½" high, and the top comes off just above the upper gold band. I put it on the piano, simply a lovely art object. I left Friday in his box under the bed (where he always hid when visitors came in) to be safe until Val was ready to be with him.

I had decided to put a bit of Val's ashes in the front yard. He spent his entire life trying to sneak outside -- not to go off on an adventure, but to just eat grass! He'd go to a specific spot just outside, safe behind the bushes, and try to eat as much as he could before we picked him up. When he heard us coming he never tried to run away, he'd just hunker down and chew faster! As we reached for him he'd grab one last huge bite and hang on, so that when we lifted him up it would tear away and he'd get to keep it. It was hilarious! He never gave up trying to get past us, and now he'll always be in that special place.

Ken wanted to participate in putting Val's ashes in their final resting places, so I waited till he had a chance to come over. After we sprinkled a spoonful of ashes outside I took the canopic jar off the piano. I took the bag with Friday's ashes and Ken took the bag with Val's, and we poured them into the jar.

They were as close as brothers in life, and now they are together forever.

I will always love you, my beautiful, wonderful boys.

May 22, 1992 - December 2, 2008
June 1995 - August 17, 2007

R.I.P.

Val's illness

Thu, 02 Oct 2008 05:09:25 GMT

It's so ironic. When a lot is going on that I want to post about, I'm so busy that by the time I get around to it it's so late that I need to get to sleep. When there's not much going on there's not much to say. That's when I should get back to reading my friends' posts, but altering habits is hard. I'm determined to do it, though! I changed my theme to a seasonally appropriate one -- maybe the fresh look will be a stimulus.

So I guess I'm babbling to avoid getting to the reason for this post. In my last post I mentioned that Val was in the midst of a lengthy illness. I had had a series of bad vets; thank goodness I finally found a good one -- no, actually, a wonderful one! -- less than a year ago. Or actually three good ones -- Dr. O is in a practice with Dr. J and Dr. S, all 40-something women and all compassionate, thoughtful and gentle.

At Val's checkup in April he was fine except for a very rapid heart rate, which we attributed to being terrified. He turned 16 on May 22 without ever having been sick a day in his life except for one brief urinary tract infection two years ago. But in July he started coughing. Since I didn't post during that time, I'll let excerpts from various emails tell the story.

July 31:

Val has been coughing for the last few days. I'm not an alarmist, but I was concerned because he never coughs. Then last night he had started sneezing, and I really got worried -- the only time I've ever seen him sneeze is when he got a faceful of dust from poking around under the bed or something. I called the vet this morning and they had one more appointment left, at 4:00.

The vet was concerned, and wanted to do a chest x-ray. She showed me how the chest x-ray showed a bronchial pattern, which along with his other symptoms could indicate a heartworm infestation, so I agreed that blood should be drawn for a heartworm test. I also spent quite a bit of time in discussion with the vet (she is great -- after going through four vets in 3 years I finally found a good one!), talking about possibilities and options. I was also chatting with the receptionist, so what with one thing and another I didn't get home till 6:00 (with my wallet almost $300 lighter ... and that may be just the beginning). I'll know more when she calls me with the heartworm results on Thursday night.

August 19:

I'm worried about Val (and about my pocketbook). This is his third visit to the vet this month, and he's had an x-ray, a heartworm test, two shots and a powdered med to mix in canned food. Today one of the other vets had me buy some extremely bland prescription cat food (at $2 a can) and she's phoning in a prescription to a compounding pharmacy so they can make up some Flagyl in a chicken-tasting liquid that will hopefully hide the bitter taste well enough so that he won't notice it mixed in the canned food (keep your fingers crossed!). He has projectile diarrhea (which is vile smelling) and a bad, wet-sounding cough.

His lungs sound fine so Dr. O says the cough must be an upper-respiratory problem -- but his eyes, ears and throat look normal so she has no idea what could be causing it. She's putting off a blood test because it'll cost $180, so they've been trying a trial-and-error strategy. But if the Flagyl and easy-to-digest food don't fix the diarrhea, they'll have to do tests because he can't keep going on like this, poor little guy. He must get horrible cramps. Dr. J says he also has a heart murmur as well as the very, very fast heart rate, so when the acute problems are taken care of he'll probably have to go to a cardiologist for tests. She said that would probably run around $500, and didn't seem to feel that there was anything she could do herself. I may try a different general vet for that, but it will still be expensive -- and maybe not anything that's treatable. He's 16, so I'm really worried about him. He's the only family I have left.

August 19:

Please send healing thoughts to Val -- he's a sick little guy. He's had projectile liquid diarrhea for weeks, and nothing they've done as stopped it. They're trying a new med today (which I had to have compounded into a chicken-flavored liquid that I can mix into canned food in an effort to hide the bitter taste -- please cross your fingers that it'll fool him, for a cat who'll eat almost anything, he's remarkably good about detecting even a few molecules of medicine and will refuse it even if I let him get extremely hungry). So please send him (and me) healing thoughts.

August 22:

Thanks for asking! Not well. :-(

This little guy will eat anything (today I discovered he likes tomatoes! Who would think a cat would like tomatoes?!) ... except something with medicine in it.

This antibiotic is apparently what he needed -- the diarrhea began to improve after the very first dose, and he's doing much better now. So I need to make sure he finishes the whole amount. He's supposed to get it for 5 days. But it is not going well. =sigh=

He's supposed to get 0.5 ml twice a day -- a minuscule amount, but he's been eating less and less of the chicken-flavored-medicine-and-cat-food mixture, so yesterday evening I wrapped him up in a blanket and squirted a syringe-full down his throat. He went around retching and coughing up horrible, sticky spittle for ten minutes. I have no idea how much of the stuff actually got into him. It's unlikely that I'll be able to do it again, though -- I can generally do something like that *once*, when he doesn't know what to expect. The second time I try to wrap him in a blanket he fights and squirms surprisingly powerfully for a little 14-pound animal. Even if I successfully get him wrapped up, he whips his head back and forth so it's impossible to aim the syringe -- if I try the contents will probably end up all over his face and the blanket, rather than down his throat. And then he'll go around for ten minutes trailing yucky spittle. Nevertheless, I'm thinking of trying again because at 11:30 pm he still hasn't finished the food containing the first dose.

Other than that, he's doing very well! Even the coughing has stopped, which is *very* encouraging since it was going on for weeks and the vets and I thought it was because of his heart. I'm hoping he'll come through this and be healthy again, for awhile, at least. He's obviously near the end of his life, but I've been hoping to have him with me for at least a few more years. It's rare but not extraordinary for cats to live into the 20's. Like people, if they stay healthy enough to get quite old, then they're more likely to be able to get very old, if you know what I mean.

August 29:

Everyone here has worrisome acute health problems that haven't been diagnosed yet. Val has had diarrhea for months; his doctors keep trying one thing and another, but nothing has made a permanent change back to his normal bowel habits. So far it has cost me over $500 for vet visits, tests, and medication. And we're not done yet.

September 27:

I've had several phone consultations with Dr. O, who is very firm on wanting an ultrasound of his abdomen and chest. I got the last appointment that will be available for a long time with the veterinary radiologist in Catonsville (Radiocat, which also does radioactive iodine treatment for hyperthyroid, which is very common in older cats). It costs $400. I had been calling him Val the Mystery Cat (since he's obviously sick but we can't figure out what's wrong with him), but now I'm calling him Val the Valuable -- by next week I'll have spent over $1,000 on him just in the past two months. If you had asked me before that if I would spend a thousand dollars on a cat who is already so elderly, I would have said no ... but it happened so gradually but it just started adding up. I talked to the vet about not doing the ultrasound, since I'm not going to treat the expected cancer or anything else serious anyway because of his age ... but apparently it's also important to find out what's going on in order to know what to do to keep him comfortable for whatever time he has left.

But that last available appointment is on Monday afternoon at 4:30. I had made an appointment last April with my dermatologist for a badly-needed full-body skin check (I'm supposed to get one every year, but I've been lax) ... and it was for 4:00 on Monday. So I tried the only other veterinary radiologist in the entire Washington-Baltimore area, who is in Gaithersburg). They who had an appointment available Wednesday at 11 -- perfect! But when I asked what they charge, I was shocked! $413.95 for an abdominal ultrasound plus $275 for a chest ultrasound! I said "But they're already doing the abdominal, everything is already prepared and set up ... you still charge full price for each of them?" Golly, even a painter will give a discount for two houses next to each other since they already have the ladder and crew out there already! But no, they charge full price for two separate sonograms, even though it's a matter of just moving the probe two extra inches!

So I called Radiocat back and asked about the charge -- no, she said, they do the whole thing for $400, and I'll be right in the room and he'll talk to me while he does it and tell me what he's seeing. That all sounded a lot better than the Gaithersburg place. So I called the dermatologist back and rescheduled my appointment. The next opening is April 21, 2009. =sigh= I'll just have to try to keep an eye on my skin myself till then, and make an appointment to have anything worrisome checked. (Those take only (!) 6-8 weeks to get.)

So Monday I have to drive out to the vet's office to get the chest x-rays they did a few weeks ago, then come back, pick Val up, and take him and my MasterCard to Catonsville. I know lymphoma is the most likely diagnosis, but I'll still probably be pretty upset if that's what he says, so don't expect to see much of me Monday night. But at least Val is enjoying life meanwhile, and has been doing pretty well. He still has the very foul-smelling projectile liquid diarrhea and he's still coughing and breathing faster than normal. But he's not throwing up (although I'm still feeding him small amounts all day long), and his coat is glossy again for now. Most important, he gets on my lap a lot (which is also keeping down my computer time -- but I'm not going to deny him or me the pleasure of lap sitting at this point) and purrs.

So ... the ultrasound was Tuesday (yesterday, as I write this). Radiocat is great. Two cats live in the facility and roam around at will, including a very curious and sociable little ginger cat who greets visitors and spends most of his time getting in the receptionist's way, trying to get her to play or lying on her keyboard. She rescued him after he was abandoned at 3 weeks of age.

Dr. Herring was wonderful. I've never been so comfortable with a strange vet so quickly. "When a cat is on the table, it's my cat," he said at one point during the procedure. At first I thought he was being possessive and meant I shouldn't interfere, but no, he meant just the opposite: that he cares about each patient every bit as much as if it were his own pet. The assistant held Val on his side, and I stayed by his head. After awhile he started struggling. I mentioned that it might be that his back legs were hurting because he had very painful arthritis, so the tech loosened her grip and Val twisted around and ended up in a sitting position. "They just don't like being held down," Dr. Herring said quietly, and just kept on moving the probe under Val's belly. When he started struggling again and ended up on his other side, Dr. Herring just leaned over a little more and calmly continued the procedure. As he went he told us what he was seeing.

Val's heart is fine -- he said the rapid pulse probably really was just nerves. But his GI tract is very inflamed and swollen, and very enlarged lymph nodes.

So, the diagnosis is definite: He has lymphoma. The radiologist was great. After he was finished and Val was feeling safe back in his carrier, we talked. He recommended cortisone, and I said that's what Dr. O had wanted to give him but she was afraid if his heart was damaged the steroid would cause even more problems, and that's why she wanted the chest imaged too.

I made an appointment immediately for the next time Dr. O would be in. It's tomorrow (Thursday). It won't have any effect on his disease process, but it's supposed to make him feel better. We talked about chemotherapy, but that requires oral treatment, and Val just will Not. Take. Pills. We had such battles with the antibiotics and worm medicine -- Dr. O expressed real concern that fighting with me every other day would diminish his quality of life more than the chemo would enhance it. So, that's out. Dr. O is so wonderful. When there are valid choices to make she stands back and lets me make them -- I have to push her to make a recommendation. But when I try to go off in a direction that she knows is not best for Val, she gently but firmly pushes me in the direction she knows I would want to go if I knew enough and wasn't feeling so emotional.

She -- very properly -- wouldn't give me a time frame on the phone, but I had researched and asked if it was about three to six months. "That's average," Dr. O said. "Tell him I said he's above average!" She also said to spoil him, so I have official permission. The good news is that none of the vets can believe that he's still eager to eat! Every website on feline lymphoma says they lose interest in food, lose weight, and become lethargic. But between the last two visits Val had gained almost a half pound, which is a big percentage on a 14-pound body! He's also driving me as crazy as ever with demands to eat, and is as playful as he was in the spring, although he gets tired faster. Since there's no longer any worry about reducing his pudginess he's getting even more food than usual, and he's eating it all up! He's drinking a lot, too, which is keeping him from getting dehydrated. He has stopped throwing up for now, too. So I'm hopeful that he will be above average. I know he'll never see his 17th birthday, but I'm hopeful that he'll still be around to eat leftovers at Thanksgiving, and maybe he'll even be able to eat a piece of Meredith's birthday cake in January.

But as soon as he stops enjoying life, it will end. I won't put him through misery just to keep him with me a little longer. People have sometimes talked about how they couldn't bear to put their pet to sleep so they just waited until it died on its own, but I've never understood how they could be so selfish. I brought up the subject with the radiologist, and added that "I wish we could do that for people."

He was in complete agreement, and was pleased that I felt the same way he did about it, and told a story about a Catholic priest that had come in with his dog a few weeks ago. The results were not good, so after the sonogram he told the priest "We're going to have a very uncomfortable conversation now." The priest knew exactly what he was getting at. "Oh, no," he said the priest told him, explaining that quality of life was paramount and he wouldn't keep the dog alive once it was no longer comfortable. "I think we should do that for people, too -- it's too bad the law won't let us," he said the priest added, to Dr. Herring's surprise.

For now, Val is still a happy cat.

I'll know more -- not much, but more -- tomorrow. Please pray, send good thoughts, light a candle, or whatever you do to raise positive energy.

I'm back!

Tue, 09 Sep 2008 22:48:51 GMT

Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.
-- John Lennon

I've wanted to come back -- you have no idea! I've missed you all sooo much! I'll try to explain what happened in more detail soon (I've written most of two posts, but I want to keep this shorter so it will actually get posted instead of being saved into yet another Semagic file). But I do want to say that, as awkward as I've felt in the past coming back after much shorter absences (would anyone notice, or care, that I was gone? would anyone still be here?), I don't feel that now thanks to so many friends (and one daughter) who showed that they missed my posts. Many nudges, emails and replies to my last post told me that you were thinking about me and -- more importantly -- missed me and wanted me to come back. I'm not going to list everyone, but you know who you are. I just want to let you know that it mattered.

Enough of that -- I have to introduce you to Floozie! See, the short version of the reason I stopped posting was not that I wanted to, but that my 7-year-old computer, with its total 256 megs of memory, was just not coping with modern life. It took me so long to do what I had to do that there wasn't enough computer time left in my day to do what I wanted to do. The ancient machine was getting slower and slower at an accelerating rate, to the point that it was actually noticeable. I was spending more and more time at the computer and the rest of my life was suffering. I wasn't getting out on walks enough, I didn't have any time to just sit and cuddle Val ... something had to go. Reading on LJ, posting on LJ, photographs ... eventually I did nothing on the computer but what I was obligated to do -- freecycle and my work as the secretary of the board for the building that my church is half-owner of.

So I finally broke down and got a new computer -- a laptop, my first real laptop! -- and I'm sitting here typing on it right now! My desktop never had a name -- it's name on the network is incomprehensible alphanumeric string, and I never cared. It isn't that I decided to think up a name for this one -- when a name was needed during the network setup, it just hit me ... "Floozie!" Kudos to anyone who can figure out why!

Floozie is a Dell Vostro 1700.

Processor: Intel Core 2 Duo T5870, 2.0GHz, 800Mhz, 2M L2 Cache
Screen: 17.0 inch Wide Screen XGA+ LCD
Memory: 3GB, DDR2, 667MHz
Video card: 128MB NVIDIA GeForce 8400M GS
Hard Drive: 320GB, 5400RPM
OS: "Transition When You're Ready" Vista Premium Downgrade: Windows XP Pro SP2 installed, Vista Business on Media
Optical: 8X CD/DVD Burner (DVD+/-RW) with double-layer DVD+R write capability
Wireless: Dell Wireless 1505 Wireless-N Internal Card

I couldn't find any good pictures to link to, so I thought it would be even better to take a couple of her sitting right on the old family room couch where I'm sitting and typing!

So say hi to Floozie! (And don't forget to guess why you think she has that name!)

There's a whole lot going on, and I'll start trying to catch up with that as soon as possible, especially Val's lengthy (and still growing) medical saga. I found this new vet just in time, since he's been needing treatment continuously for months.

And please tell me if anything important has happened in your life (or point me to a post). How are you?!

Val's vet visit

Tue, 29 Apr 2008 19:45:41 GMT

After going through four veterinarians in as many years, I'm pretty confident that I've finally found the right one.

After having had bad experiences with the other vets in town (the third one was downright creepy and the other one because it was bought out years ago by VCA and is run like the corporate operation it is), I solicited recommendations from people at church. Dr. O was highly recommended by someone I've known for 20 years, so I decided to give her a try. The downside is that the office is almost a half hour away (which probably doesn't seem far to some of you, but it does for most of us here, who are ~~accustomed to~~ totally spoiled by having everything we need here in town, within a ten minute drive -- which is why my 1½ year old car has less than 6,000 miles on it!).

But after my second visit, I'm really pleased with both Dr. O and the culture in the office.

To start with, they don't put you in a room and immediately haul the animal forcibly out of his carrier while he struggles to stay in it (which is what happens in the big hospitals where it feels like an assembly line operation and the assistant has to keep moving). Last time, I was left alone in the room and by the time the assistant came in, I had lured Val painlessly out with treats. This morning the assistant came in with me, but when I offered Val a treat he peered out at her suspiciously. She noticed and offered to go out if that would help. "Oh, it definitely would!" said. "Okay," she said, "Just push this button on the scale, and put him on it."

They trusted me to have enough sense to read the digital scale and give them the number! Will wonders never cease?! When the assistant came back in Val was prowling around on the floor investigating the room -- not calm (I mean, we were at the V-E-T), but not traumatized by a struggle. "Did you get the weight?" she said. "14 - 02", I told her. "Fourteen pounds two ounces," she said, writing it down. "Same as last time. Good."

Wow.

I really like Dr. O, too. She didn't push a ton of vaccinations and treatments on me like the last one did, or hand down recommendations from on high like all of the last three did. She doesn't push anything. With Dr. O, the owner is a full partner in the pet's care, and I love that -- that's the way it should be!

Except for rabies shots (which are mandated by law), she recommends or suggests care and treatment options, and lets me decide. I haven't had a vet like that since the early 90's, when the animal hospital I'd been going to since I moved here sold out to VCA. I don't know what specific changes in the rules about treating the animals were made, but I do know that all the wonderful vets -- and even most of the support staff -- promptly left. The next time I went there everyone was a stranger, even though I'd been going there for years.

Val's arthritis pain has been getting worse, but the previous vet (the really creepy one) just said that at almost 16, it's not surprising that he's slowing down. He didn't mention anything about treating it. I was floored! On the very first visit three weeks ago Dr. O immediately put Val on Metacam -- the box also had the generic name, meloxicam, which I recognized as an NSAID. She said to bring him back in two to four weeks, so I made an appointment for three weeks later, which was today.

I told her that the NSAID didn't seem to be helping much and he's still in a lot of pain. She suggested acupuncture -- there's a holistic vet that shares the office space who does acupuncture and other alternative therapies, but when I asked if Dr. O knew how much they charged she said it was kind of expensive. So I asked about other pain relievers, and she started to talk about tramadol.

"Oh!" I said, "I take that myself!"

"Well, there's no special veterinary formulation, we just use the 50 mg tablets made for humans."

"That's what I have, 50 mg tablets."

"Then just give him a quarter of a tablet once a day."

"I don't know how I'll give it to him -- you canNOT pill this cat."

"I give pills to my cat in a treat -- I squish the treat around it and he just gobbles it down."

"I've tried that. Val spits the pill out." I rolled my eyes. "He'll eat anything if it's mixed into wet cat food. Can I crush it and give it to him that way?"

"Sure, that's fine."

So the drug is free, since I have plenty (on good days I don't take all four 100 mg doses). I know that Dr. T would have said "I'll give you some pain reliever for him," and put some inexpensive generic tramadol tablets in a bottle and charged big bucks for it. Once I saw it was tramadol, if I questioned it I'm sure I would have been told that it was a veterinary formulation or that I couldn't just use my own tablets for some other reason. That's just the way he operates, extremely aggressive and always maximizing his profit. (Someone has to pay for all the fancy state-of-the-art high-tech equipment he has in the office, and for the fancy McMansion he and his family bought in what was at the time the most expensive subdivision in the county.)

But Dr. O was very happy that I could use my own and not have to pay extra for something I didn't need. She even has kind eyes. I really like her. And I trust her to not run up the bill with unnecessary tests and treatments like Dr. T does.

Unfortunately she also mentioned that Val's thyroid level is at the high end of normal, which means he's probably hyperthyroid, which is not good. I already went through this with Friday. Except in the unlikely event they've come up with a new drug in the last year and a half, he'll have to go on Tapazole, which has dangerous side effects in up to 20% of cats who take it. In the studies, a large proportion of cats had to discontinue the treatment. So I'm faced with all the same choices again. Hooray.

I found an interesting discussion about the I131 treatment -- it's four years old, but the vets in the thread mentioned a connection with renal failure, which is what happened to Friday, so I want to save the link and re-read it so I can figure it out. (cjsmith if you can figure out from that discussion what I should ask Dr. O about, should it come to that, please add a comment!)

The nearest facility for me is Radiocat in Catonsville. At least the waiting period there is only 3-5 days, but that's a long time for a cat as social as Val to be in a cage all alone. =sigh=

I know I'm getting way ahead of myself, but I'm always more comfortable if I can get a feeling of control by planning for the future. Even if the control is totally illusory, I'd rather have the illusion than than that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach of not knowing what's going to happen.

Sun, 20 Apr 2008 20:32:33 GMT

Happy Birthday
gretchen_marie

Fri, 18 Apr 2008 18:04:14 GMT

Happy (belated) Birthday
mactavish

Sorry I missed it yesterday -- hope it was happy!

Happy Income Tax Day

Tue, 15 Apr 2008 22:55:57 GMT

Most years this would be me. This year, for the first time in mumblety years, I got my tax return out a week early! In fact, I just received the delivery receipt from the US Treasury and I put it away properly in the envelope with the other tax stuff!

see more crazy cat pics

Seder!

Mon, 14 Apr 2008 18:28:43 GMT

The Seder last night went very well, although it was very sparsely attended. In the past couple of years the prime mover of the event has managed to increase the turnout to over 40 people, largely by making lots and lots of phone calls in addition to the standard listings in the various announcement venues of the congregation (newsletter, Sunday bulletin, weekly email blast). This year we only had 21 people, which was very disappointing.

But those who did come greatly enjoyed it. We had lots of compliments, as always, and a lot of people pitched in at the end to help clean up the room, though the kitchen chores were done by the three dedicated people who have done cleanup for several years in the past. Rather than use disposables, the congregation uses regular dishes, glasses and silverware for potlucks, so there's a lot of washing to do at the end of an event. We do have an industrial dishwasher that does an entire cycle in 2 minutes (without drying, though, which has to be done by hand if you want to do sequential loads immediately). But everything still has to be thoroughly rinsed, loaded, unloaded, and dried, over and over, so there's lots of work to do.

The other committee person and I worked on the room cleanup. I started attending to the distribution of leftovers years ago, because I was the one who thought to do it while there were still people around to take them because I hate to see perfectly good food thrown out, so that's become my job. There's always plenty of wine, grape juice and matzo (since they have to be spread out among the tables, all the bottles and boxes end up open and then only partially used), plus a variety of potluck dishes in disposable containers that people leave there, usually because they don't want to take fattening food home with them and they figure someone else will take it!

But you'd be surprised at how hard it is to give the leftovers away! I want the people who pitch in until the place is cleaned up to get them, but they don't necessarily want anything I have to give away. (Matzo is the hardest, but I did manage to find a home for most of it this year.) The one bottle of grape juice that I couldn't get anyone to take I labeled for the staff and put in the refrigerator -- hopefully they'll find it and drink it!

After finishing leftovers detail I did some running back and forth bringing things from the room into the kitchen (we were in the smaller room, which also happens to be farther from the kitchen, so it's a long traipse), but I don't mind the walking nearly as much as I do standing in one place. Eventually I ended up in the kitchen drying dishes, but at least I could do that sitting down.

I was exhausted by the time I left, but it was worth it!

Seder

Sun, 13 Apr 2008 18:11:29 GMT

Although technically Passover hasn't started yet (it begins this year at sundown on April 19), my UU congregation's Seder is today. (We've found over many years of trial and error that Sunday late afternoon is the best time for an event, and that it's unwise to compete with the real Jewish Seders because our mixed couples go to their families' Seders on the first and second night.)

I'm one of the main people involved with the Seder, so I have a bunch of stuff to do. In the past several years I've led the Seder, but I told the other member of the committee (yeah, there are only two of us) that I thought it would be better to have different people do it. (A traditional Seder is led by the head of the family, and in the past the minister has always done it, since they are the "head" of the church "family". But when I approached our current minister in her first year about starting to plan the Seder, she said she is "not interested." In fact, she has only bothered to even attend one Seder in the four years she's been our minister.

But my other committee member found someone else to do it this year, and I met with him yesterday to go over the Haggadah we use. He grew up in a Jewish family, but I was surprised to find that he remembers even less about his childhood Seders than I do. (He remembers that they had some, but nothing about them.)

At any rate, I'm delighted that I don't have to do it this year. But I do have to go shopping for the items for the Seder plate, and be there by 4:00 to help set up, so I'm off to the supermarket. (I already have my contribution to the potluck Seder meal.) Unfortunately my new med doesn't seem to be working as well as it had been, or maybe the higher dose is just causing more dopeyness. But it's not any worse than I've been, so I'll do okay, especially since I only have a small part (the "mother" who lights the candles) and can then relax and just enjoy the Seder like anyone else.

Sun, 13 Apr 2008 17:58:53 GMT

Happy Birthday
sleepingwolf
and
Belated Happy Birthday
oniricwolf

I'm posting a message!

Sat, 12 Apr 2008 03:08:14 GMT

After not having posted or read for a long time due to depression-induced inertia, I had a hard time coming back even when I felt better.

But thanks to momomom, who's been calling me and getting me outdoors, to lesliepear who sent me a nudge, goingdriftless who sent me a nudge, and to ms_interpret who sent me an email, I'm posting this message, and I'm going to make a concerted effort to go back to regular reading and posting and reconnecting with my LJ friends. It's not that I haven't thought of you all -- I have been, regularly. And it's not that I didn't care -- I miss you all! But I was becoming a hermit in RL also. And I'm ready for that to be over.

Another thing that finally pushed me into posting today is that I had a dream about ms_interpret last night. It was a very encouraging dream, too, and I wanted to tell her about it, so I planned to call her today. I thought about her a number of times, trying to figure out what would be a good time, considering the 3-hour time difference.

So I wasn't really surprised to get an email from her, even though I hadn't heard from her in months. Apparently my thinking about her so much got through to her. (I firmly believe this happens, and that it's not paranormal but some sort of completely natural process we just haven't discovered yet.) When I called her she thought I was calling because I'd received her email -- but I told her no, she'd thought of sending me an email because I was thinking about her so much today!

After we caught up with each other I told her that it's always hard for me to get back to posting after a long break, because I feel guilty about not having kept up with my friends. "I care about them -- a lot," I said, but how can I possibly catch up with their journals after such a long time? I feel guilty and awkward just jumping into reading and posting comments without having been there for so long.

Shannon urged me to just post that I'm back, that I really want to know how my friends are, and that I should just say that if there's something you want me to know about (which to me is anything important that's been happening in your life, since I genuinely do care and have missed you all very much!) to tell me or point me to an entry. She said, "People understand. I see posts like that all the time."

So here is another post like that. I hope you understand!

Wed, 19 Mar 2008 05:49:49 GMT

~ Happy Birthday ~
lavandersparkle !!

Owls, sunset and GPS

Fri, 01 Feb 2008 06:54:13 GMT

Thank you for the nudges, lesliepear! It really helps to be reminded to get back to posting ... and even more, to know I'm missed.

And I've been wanting to post about something for a week, so I was grateful to be nudged into writing this. :-)

Last Friday I drove up to a very rural area near the Pennsylvania border hoping to see the two Short-eared Owls that had been reported hunting over a particular field at dusk. The drive was around 60 miles, the last third on a series of increasingly narrow, curving country roads.

When I got there at about 4:45 there was only one other car there. but more soon arrived and eventually there were about eight birders standing at the bend in the road across from the field where the owls were expected, waiting hopefully to view the rarely-seen birds. Two spotting scopes were set up and pointed southeast. The temperature was barely 30º, so it was cold just standing around, but there were a lot of interesting things to look at all around us while we waited.

A big flock of about two dozen lovely White-crowned Sparrows and one Song Sparrow foraged busily next to the hedgerow behind us, only about 20 yards away. A mockingbird was there too. A couple of Red-tailed Hawks flew around, and one landed in a tree at the far end of the field to the west. Two red foxes romped around the field we were watching, and I got a great view of them through the scope. A few deer appeared in the field to the north, and one of the birders watching them noticed that the lights on the slopes of the Liberty Mountain ski area in Fairfield, PA, could be seen with binoculars. (Later, as the light faded, they were easily visible with the naked eye. I'm not used to such good visibility, since trees or buildings keep most views much shorter, and the humidity and pollution in the air cut the visibility drastically even when nothing interferes with the view. But the air out there was crisp and clean, and there was nothing to block the view of the mountain 14 miles away.)

While we waited in the cold and watched the other birds and animals, I turned to the southwest every so often and took a photo of the sun setting over the fields.

Northern Harriers had also been reported, and after awhile three of the beautiful hawks arrived and swooped over the field. They were gorgeous in the light of the setting sun, just like the one in this photo. Sunset came and went at 5:19, but the owls still hadn't appeared. "I hope they come," I said. "I don't mind driving so far and standing around freezing to see a Short-eared Owl -- but I do mind driving so far and standing around freezing to not see a Short-eared Owl!"

At last someone said "There it is!" -- and there was a gorgeous owl! It landed in a tree near the abandoned farmhouse, and the scopes were quickly trained on it. It kept turning its head this way and that, searching for prey, obviously hungry for its first meal of the day. I got a great view of it through the scope, including its striking face.

Soon another owl appeared, and the two of them coursed over the field, this way and that, coming close enough to see really well through the binoculars. It was definitely worth the drive and the wait in the cold! Not only were they a new life bird for me, they're magnificent to see. I'd never had an opportunity to see an owl flying before, and here I was standing there watching them hunt for a good five minutes.

Unfortunately, one birder had parked at the abandoned farmhouse and walked right into the middle of the field. I'm sure he got a better view than the rest of us, but it's extremely bad practice to disturb a bird -- especially a sensitive bird like an owl, which may feel its home is threatened and feel the need to relocate. Not only is it harmful to the birds, but it's extremely rude to the other birders. If someone gets too close to a bird and it leaves -- temporarily or permanently -- no one else will get to see it.

And that's exactly what happened. While there was still enough light to see fairly well, the owls took off -- one to the south and one to the west. We waited a few minutes, but they didn't return, so we all said goodbye, packed up our scopes and binoculars, and headed out.

Normally I'd have been concerned about finding my way through the intricate maze of back roads to get to the highway. But Meredith gave me her old GPS for Christmas, and I love it! I've been using it, but really just for practice, since I haven't been anywhere I needed directions for. It made getting to the location where the owls were considerably easier, since I didn't have to keep referring to the map, estimating distance and watching for signs, to know where to turn. But I could have followed a map without too much trouble.

But driving home in the dark was another story! I couldn't have just glanced at the map in the dark -- I would have had to stop, turn on the light, try to figure out where the heck I was on the map, then strain to find each turn. But there was no place to pull over on the narrow back roads, so I would have been blundering around blindly, and I know there were some turns I would have missed. Eventually I would have come to a numbered road and found my way home, of course -- but I was already tired and not in a mood to drive miles out of my way around the dark countryside. But all I had to do was listen for Griselda to announce, in her British accent, "In point four miles, turn left." "In point one miles, turn left." "Turn left, then turn right." "In point three miles, continue straight, then bear left onto the freeway."

The unit is a Navman iCN 330. It's about two years old, and software updates aren't available any more, nor are updated US maps (though they are for several other countries). In trying it out over routes I'm familiar with I haven't been impressed with Griselda's navigation -- she tries to get me to take a less efficient way much of the time, though I have the setting on "fastest route", not "shortest route". I usually just ignore her and go the way I know is best, and she silently recalculates the route and gives me new directions.

It also does odd things with house numbers. You put in a number like 428, save it, and it says 430. Or you put in 3916, and it takes you to 3912. Not that it's accurate to within one or two houses -- Griselda just announces "Destination" when you get to the right block. But it's disconconcerting to put in an address and have it display a different address, especially if you're using the display for reference to where you're going!

But it would get me where I'm going eventually, and it's great for picking up freecycle items where I can get to the neighborhood but don't know any of the local streets. And it really came through last Friday, faithfully (and accurately, as it turned out when I went over the route on the map later) guiding me from one rural road to another in the dark until finally, with a sigh of relief, I got on the interstate. It was the first time I'd really needed a GPS, and Griselda did an outstanding job! I'm really thrilled to finally have one of these things!

Thu, 31 Jan 2008 22:05:54 GMT

Happy Birthday
conuly !

Sun, 13 Jan 2008 05:17:50 GMT

Happy Birthday
platypus !

Sat, 12 Jan 2008 18:02:12 GMT

Happy Birthday
maxh42 !

Ref for the Deaf

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 04:33:02 GMT

For woofiegrrl and friends interested in deaf culture:

13-year-old's invention allows athletes to feel signals from referees

13-year-old's invention allows athletes to feel signals from referees

12:00 AM CST on Monday, January 7, 2008
By STACI HUPP / The Dallas Morning News
shupp@dallasnews.com

Celia Beron isn't known for compassion on the soccer field. The wily eighth-grader from Richardson has a reputation for steals and blocked kicks, and she has the trophy collection to prove it.

These days, she's capturing attention for a major assist to other athletes, but she didn't use her legs. She used her heart.

Celia, 13, invented Ref for the Deaf, a special bracelet that vibrates for deaf players who can't hear the sound of a referee's whistle or starter gun.

With some help from Celia's father and two graduate students from the University of Texas at Dallas, a good idea from a skinny girl with braces has the makings of a great product.

Supporters see a demand from elementary school gymnasiums to the Special Olympics and beyond.

"The big vision is it would be phenomenal to have this widely used across all kinds of sports," said Jonathan Hoak, 29, one of two UTD graduate students who turned Celia's idea into a business model.

That plan won the top prize at a UTD contest for new business ideas in November.

Now, the Berons and their university partners will test the idea in the real world.

"You don't have to have a Ph.D. to come up with a good idea," said Joe Picken, director of UTD's Institute for Innovation and Entrepreneurship, which sponsored the competition. "Most good ideas come from experience. Celia was involved in youth sports and saw a problem."

Uneven playing field

No one tallies how many deaf athletes participate in high school, college and professional sports. But about 10,000 of them belong to the USA Deaf Sports Federation, a national athletic association that hooks up deaf and hearing-impaired Americans with international competitions.

Special Olympics officials counted an additional 135 deaf and hearing-impaired athletes in the nonprofit organization's national games in 2006.

Celia was at soccer camp four years ago when she noticed that a teammate's hearing disability put her on an uneven playing field.

"She kept playing after everyone else stopped," said Celia, now an eighth-grader at Richardson North Junior High. "Every time a coach blew his whistle to stop, we had to wave our arms in her face to get her to stop."

The game ended, but Celia's curiosity stuck. She first thought of Ref for the Deaf for a school project.

Her concept pairs up a transmitter with a referee's whistle or starter gun. When either of them goes off, the transmitter sends a signal to the receiver: a vibrating bracelet worn by a deaf athlete.

Until now, deaf players have taken their cues mostly from referees, coaches and other players who can hear – and, in some cases, try to dupe their hearing-impaired competition.

Kevin Cook has seen the struggle firsthand. The former WNBA coach, who oversees an all-deaf women's basketball team at Gallaudet University in Washington, D.C., described a pivotal moment in a recent game.

"My player thought that a foul had been called, and so she stopped play. Play continued and there was a score" for the other team, Mr. Cook said.

Ref for the Deaf could be the difference between a win or a loss for his team, which is in a competitive Division III conference.

"As alert as my team is, I think something like this would be very valuable to them," he said.

Celia's idea swept the Richardson school district's annual invention contest when she was in fourth grade.

Her father, Kurt, a UTD economics and public policy professor, saw bigger potential and started poking around on the Internet.

"Seeing these anecdotal stories around the world about athletes who had problems because of their hearing in competitive sports, it surprised me that this wasn't already out there," Dr. Beron said. "I thought that it did have some commercial appeal."

Patented

Celia's father laid the groundwork for a patent, which Ref for the Deaf earned last February.

From there, Dr. Beron turned to a management professor at UTD who hooked him up with Mr. Hoak and another graduate student, Timothy Gutschlag.

"I wasn't expecting it to get this big," Celia said. "It's cool."

It might have been easy to cut a little girl out of a business competition, but the UTD students didn't.

Celia left school for a day this fall to help sell her idea to judges, just as participants twice her age did.

Celia and the UTD students also split their $10,000 in prize money three ways.

"We've always given her complete and total credit for everything – it's her deal," Mr. Hoak said.

Next, Celia's father and the UTD students will study their market options for Ref for the Deaf and start a business together.

Celia, meanwhile, has more important things to think about: practicing the trombone, getting through junior high and – most important – soccer.

April in January

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 04:22:45 GMT

What glorious weather we had today -- and tomorrow is supposed to be even better!

Although we didn't break any records, the temperature hit 69º today, with the sun shining in a bright blue sky and a light, pleasant breeze. I went for a walk at the lake in a Coolmax (very thin) long-sleeved top -- and had to keep pushing the sleeves up because it was so warm!

Above the lake I turned off the paved path and took a shortcut through the woods along the stream -- not because it's a shortcut, but just to be in the woods. Later I crossed the stream so I could go through the woods all the way back to the lake. I felt a sense of accomplishment crossing the stream, because we've had rain and it's full. It's only a very small stream -- even filled with water it's still only about six feet wide and about 8 to 10 inches deep. But I didn't want to end up stepping in cold water up to my ankles, or even worse falling in it! The small rocks people have thrown in to step on are pointy and unsteady, and with my stiff joints and poor balance I can't always do it when the water isn't low.

But I found a stick to use for balance, and made it across! I also found a three very interesting rocks to bring home, and had some especially good bird experiences. The walk was very healing for me.

It was a five-duck day on the lake! In addition to the standard year-round Mallards and the usual winter Ring-necked Ducks, there were quite a few Ruddy Ducks, two Canvasbacks, and a small flock of seven gorgeous Hooded Mergansers [see icon]! For the past few years the winter ducks have been scarce -- no resident ruddys or canvasbacks, very few visits from mergansers, and many fewer resident ring-necks than we used to have.

I don't know why, but I think it's because the weather has been warmer than normal for the past several years and "south" for the ducks has been further north. But this year -- except for today -- has been chillier. The ruddys and those two canvasbacks have been around for a few weeks, and those lovely mergansers were an extra treat!

When I got near the upper end of the lake I could hear a young Red-shouldered Hawk being harassed by crows. The crows were cawing periodically, but the hawk kept calling almost constantly for at least a half hour. It continued calling on and off for the whole time I was in the area, about two hours. From the wobbly sound of the call, I think it was a first-year bird -- it sounded halfway between "keer keer keer" and "peep peep peep"!

I stood and watched it for awhile, and could hear it the whole time. Then, when I was on my way back through the woods, I heard the wobbly call about a quarter-mile away ... and suddenly heard the loudest hawk call I've ever heard, right over my head! I looked up and there was another Red-shouldered Hawk -- an adult, flying toward the immature at treetop height.

The songbirds seemed to be as happy about the warm weather as the humans were -- they were twittering and chipping everywhere! In one area of the woods where I heard several soft chip notes I tried pishing, and found myself in a forest full of titmice! They were everywhere, all around me, hopping around, chipping and scolding. I stood still and just soaked up the pleasure.

After I saw the second hawk I was so occupied listening to them that I walked past the turnoff I normally take and got to a tributary stream. I know the woods well and knew where I was, I was just surprised that I had missed the trail. But the clearing at the brook was also filled with soft bird sounds, and I didn't even need to pish. There were White-throated Sparrows feeding all over the place, a big flock of cardinals flying here and there among the trees, and I got a good look at an unusual light-brownish "pale adult" American Robin. Again I just stood there quietly for awhile, and it was even better because the birds were doing their natural activities rather than being agitated.

I only walked about 2½ miles, but I stopped so often and poked around for so long that I was out from 2:00 until 4:30! After I cooled off with some water and rested awhile I had a bowl of my beautiful ham and bean soup.

Sad day

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 02:47:47 GMT

I do best with difficult dates by trying to just ignore them. If I don't pay attention to what date it is, I don't feel bad. So I'm lying in bed this morning half-awake listening to Morning Edition, and the announcer vigorously announces, "It's January 7!"

Today would have been my 25th anniversary.

Normally January 7 doesn't bother me that much -- Tom died in 1985, and after all these years I usually just feel a little wistful on birthdays and anniversaries. But the ones that would have been extra special are still painful.

I'm glad I have two friends whose birthdays are today. Picturing their happiness reduces my sadness. But it was still a difficult day. Fortunately the weather is glorious and I went to the lake. That helped more than anything.