Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Bobby "Mr. Bubbles" Newhall

To start this off, I'd like to say two things: I did not forget about my blog, and Bobby really is dead.  It wasn't just some really morbid, really idiotic attention-getter - he died three weeks ago, January 14th.  Pinkie also died, I'm sorry to say, and Rocky's getting so old, it's amazing he lived through the stroke he had about two months ago.  (I was going to write about about that, but I decided not to.)  Now here's a little "Intriguing Animal Act" story:

Last October, when the weather was still surprisingly warm and sunny, I took the Lightning out for some exercise.  I ended up putting her in a box outside and taking Henna out of her pen.  Bobby wandered up, and of course Rosey was right next to me the whole time.  We practiced and laughed and I got mad at nosy Rosey for interrupting Henna's training session and chasing Bobby away once.  We all had a great time.

Well, that was the story, and now here's my cat:



I decided to show a bonus picture of Pinkie.


That's Mother's coat he's lying on.


One of my favorite adventures.  Someday I'll tell a story about the excursion, maybe tomorrow.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Oh No

My title may sound callous, but I can't think of anything.  I can't think.  My fingers are typing but my mind isn't thinking.  Yesterday Bobby was apparently pretty sick.  We kept him in the house the whole day.  At first we thought he got too cold outside, since it was in the lower twenties and we hadn't seen him for a little while.  Then we thought he may have been poisoned, but we don't know what happened; we never shall.  This morning we called the vet, because he kept meowing, he sounded like he was in pain.  He just wasn't getting better.  At around 8:30, just about when Mother and Daddy were going to take him (Daddy was pulling the jeep down to the house) Mother asked me to look and see how his breathing was.  At first I didn't think too much when he wasn't breathing, but I checked a few minutes later, and it was obvious he was dead.  Now I can't write any more, I'm sorry, I just can't.  I'll try to write more later.

Friday, January 4, 2013

Rainbowland Trivia

As I was sitting on the couch sipping tea and watching Raphael, I decided it was time for more Rainbowland.  I've changed quite a few things since my last post about it (not that I can remember when that was...), and I think you need some special details.  Let's start with the lands of Rainbowland.

Land of Adventure:  The largest land, also the capital.
Polaris:  LOA's friendly rival and the second biggest land.
Rose Hills:  A rather small land that many people retire to.
Kingsland:  The land the King and the wealthiest Rainbowlandians live in.

Next up:  The Cedar Ridge Hospital staff.

Seth: A doctor and the owner of the hospital.
Daisy:  A very eminent doctor.
Kyla:  A doctor.
Ian:  A doctor.
Edward:  A doctor and the unofficial horse vet.
Michaela:  A doctor who's trying for the "Outstanding Doctor" medal.
Cara:  A nurse who acts like a dolt, but is actually rather smart and competent.
Chrissa:  A shy, sweet nurse who closely resembles a deer in personality and build (except for big ears).
Becca: The lab nurse.
Hannah:  The very sweet cook.
Victor:  A very kind young guard.
Mary:  An old med school nurse friend of Daisy and Kyla's.
Charlotte:  A crippled former patient, now a counselor at the hospital.
Benedict:  A former Master, now a doctor.
Toby:  Also a former Master who now helps around the hospital quite a lot.

There are more, but I can't remember them right now.  For now let us just move on to the quick descriptions of the "Adventurers."  Let me point out, they're all 27 years old, just to make them go together well.  If they weren't, my Rainbowland would be in ruins (don't even bother wondering why).

Daisy:  An amazingly beautiful 5'7" 27-year-old with light auburn hair, ruby colored lips, hazel eyes and rosy cheeks.
Toby:  An attractive 6'6" 27-year-old with black hair, perfect features and black eyes.
Kyla:  A beautiful 5'5" 27-year-old with blond hair, a perfect face for her features and blue eyes.

Now I must take the compost out, for my tea is gone, it's getting late and this post is nice and long.  Make sure you peruse this because I'm working on a quiz that will feature some of this and I hope to get it done over the weekend.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Kitten Part 2

The Ad-Dressing of Cats


You've read of several kinds of Cat,
And my opinion now is that
You should need no interpreter
to understand their character.
You now have learned enough to see
That Cats are much like you and me
And other people whome we find
Possessed of various types of mind.
For some are sane and some are mad
And some are good and some are bad
And some are better, some are worse -
But all may be described in verse.
You've seen them both at work and games,
And learnt about their proper names,
Their habits and their habitat:
But
How would you ad-dress a Cat?

So first, your memory I'll jog,
And say: A CAT IS NOT A DOG.

Now Dogs pretend they like to fight;
They often bark, more seldom bite;
But yet a Dog is, on the whole,
What you would call a simple soul.
Of course I'm not including Pekes,
And such fantastic canine freaks.
The usual Dog about the Town
Is much inclined to play the clown,
And far from showing too much pride
Is frequently undignified.
He's very easily taken in -
Just chuck him underneath the chin
Or slap his back or shake his paw,
And he will gambol and guffaw.
He's such an easy-going lout,
He'll answer any hail or shout.

Again I must remind you that
A Dog's a Dog - A CAT'S A CAT.

With Cats, some say, one rule is true:
Don't speak till you are spoken to.
Myself, I do not hold with that -
I say, you should ad-dress a Cat.
But always keep in mind that he
Resents familiarity.
I bow, and taking off my hat,
Ad-dress him in this form: O CAT!
But if he is the Cat next door,
Whom I have often met before
(He comes to see me in my flat)
I greet him with an OOPSA CAT!
I've heard them call him James Buz-James -
But we've not got so far as names.
Before a Cat will condescend
To treat you as a trusted friend,
Some little token of esteem
Is needed, like a dish of cream;
And you might now and then supply
Some caviare, or Strassburg Pie,
Some potted grouse, or salmon paste -
He's sure to have his personal taste.
(I know a Cat, who makes a habit
Of eating nothing else but rabbit,
And when he's finished, licks his paws
So's not to waste the onion sauce.)
A Cat's entitled to expect
These evidences of respect.
And so in time you reach your aim,
And finally call him by his NAME.

So this is this, and that is that:
And there's how you AD-DRESS A CAT.


What you just read was another lovely cat poem by T.S. Eliot.  Also, if you have the time, you should watch this.  I've never watched the whole thing, but Patrick has.

And now here's what you've all been waiting for...

... meet Raphael!  He has big brown eyes, a bicolored nose, black eyeliner, orange ears, soft greyish fur, a black and grey striped tail and an adorable purr.  To those of you who guessed his name, I hope you guessed correctly!



I would say his fur is a beautiful color, wouldn't you?


                                                 This is just a small portion of his tail.

For now I must leave, as Raphael is awaiting me, but I promise you I'll be back with more photos soon.

Friday, November 30, 2012

...

I lost one of my very dear friends recently.  You see, on Tuesday, we let the hens out like we always do when we're home.  When I went outside at about noon, Henna wasn't among them.  It's not uncommon for a chicken to wander off.  If she wasn't with the group when I put them away, she would just roost with the cocks.  My baby wasn't with the nine other hens that evening.  It was still light out when I put them away, so I couldn't check the tree the roosters always sleep in, and later I forgot.  Like I said, that's a fairly normal thing to happen, so I didn't worry.  But on Wednesday, when I still didn't see her, I began to worry.  I let the hens out for the day.  I thought maybe Henna might be among them when I put them back, but, alas, she wasn't.  Yesterday, Thursday, I went to my class so I was busy acting out a play (that went very well, by the way) and doing science and learning about different Indian tribes.  When I got home, Henna was the last thing on my mind.  But then I did something to remind myself that Henna was still missing.  Two days I hadn't seen her... I went out to the rooster pen praying that I would find Henna there.  I only saw the Feisty and Cosmos, our two free roosters (we also have a penned up one that attacks a stick if you poke it into his little pen).  I also checked the pen where we keep the older hens that are a bad influence for the younger hens.  She wasn't in there either.  I came back in the house, where I went to bed, looking and feeling dejected.  Of course Mother came in to tell me goodnight and say she was sorry about Henna.  I miss my little hen.  I remember a couple of summers ago when she was about as young as the hens we have now are.  Feisty was so mean to her.  She came to me, hoping I would take her under my wing (so to speak) and treat her kindly.  Not only did I protect her and love her, I taught her how to think like a person.  In less than a month I had her people-loving and loyal.  Any time Feisty would try to attack her she would run to me and I'd pick her up and shoo Feisty away. She was an extremely smart chicken.  Just a little while ago we (Rosey, Bobby, Sara, Henna and I) were having a training session.  It was so nice to do that since we hadn't done it for months. And now... now Henna is gone.  I'm going to make a plaque in memory for her.  It shall say:

In memory of Henna Newhall,
The chicken with a sense of humor.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

A Little Medley

To start off, I'm going to give you a Janet-to-Janet conversation:

Janet:  I wanna find out the definition of "looky."

Janet:  Looky - also lookie - means: "to draw attention to what one is about to say."  The example sentence is:  "Looky there!  You've gone and broken it."

Janet:  Broken what?  Your arm?

Janet:  I bet he broke some ribs, and his arm, and his leg... and I bet he had a concussion, and a sword wound to his side, and an arrow wound to his other arm... how exciting is that!

Janet:  *Gasp* and he lives in LOA, Rainbowland!  That was Deuce speaking in the "example" sentence!

Janet:  I need to get my iPod Touch and coat and get outside!  I should ride my bike today.  Oh, wait, I should record this in my blog or something.

Janet:  Let's make a Little Medley.

Janet:  Okay.

That is a true conversation I just had with myself.
Now on to my kitten!  I've decided to let you guess his name.  With hints, of course.

1.  It begins with the letter R.

2.  Its second letter is either E or A.

3.  It's a classic name.

4.  People pronounce it many different ways.

5.  Its meaning has to do with God.

Have you guessed it yet?  Keep on thinking and you'll get it.  If you do guess it, it'd be nice if you left a comment saying you know it (or think you know it), but you don't have to.  By the way, I'm hoping I get my kitty today, tomorrow or Friday.  Then I can write Kitten Part 2!  I felt like putting two exclamation points back there, but I refrained myself.
I really need to get outside, so A Little Medley is, believe it or not, smaller than usual.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

California!

I'm back from my exhilarating trip to see my nephew.  I was going to write a huge post about it, but the notes I took really speak for themselves.



Through the entire journey there were many pretty clouds.
There were some gorgeous views.
Snow!

CALIFORNIA!!

Yreka

Maybe next time, San Francisco.
Somewhere in there were Willow, Walnut Creek and I-680.  (Side note:  I was half asleep at that time.  It was pretty late.)

Cayucos Beach was magnificent.  We saw gulls and herons and Dolphins.

We went to an antique shop in downtown Cayucos.

After we got home, Pat and I went for a walk and stopped at a couple places.

By Sunday I was finally able to comprehend that I was definitely in California.

We went to San Luis Obispo Mission and looked in the museum.  Then we browsed the gift shop and I got a little Guatemalan doll.

We went to Big Sky Cafe and had a lovely brunch.

Later we (not Matt, Margaret and little Mr. Newhall) went to Goodwill.  I found a sad hippo.  A statuette, of course.

Baby Walter was so perfect and sweet and amazing.   got to hold him first and last.

Farewell, California.  Hopefully you, with your palms and your cursive license plates and your wine, and I will meet again.

Welcome to Stockton.

What is it with Williams?

We saw wolves (wolf rescue stuff, not loose).  We also saw bison.

Raindrops!
Welcome to Redding.
Dana reminds me of an obnoxious girl at my first year of camp and Dana Scully (The X-Files).
It felt almost criminal to drink the vanilla In-N-Out milkshake I got.  The burger and fries were pretty good, too.  (Side note:  I was exaggerating on the milkshake, but it was good.)
We saw some lovely crags and Mt. Shasta.
We saw whooping cranes and the remnants of a forest fire.

Welcome to Yreka "The Golden State"

Adios to California... sorry it had to end... (Side note:  I stole song lyrics.)

Hello Oregon!  It's good to see you.

I never thought I'd be happy to see Morton like that.

HOME!!

It was so good to see Rosey and the rest of the gang!




...And that concludes my list of notes.  In handwriting I had 3 1/2 pages of notes.
I'll write more about my lovely journey and get my videos and Mother's pictures up on here and Facebook soon.
By the way, I didn't correct the typos because they're part of the character of my notes.