Melancholic

As often as I can, I do a circumnavigation of the house, at least this floor, the stairs are too daunting most days.

From my chair in my study I struggle to my feet, firmly grasp my two canes and hobble down the hallway, which, on some days, seems infinitely longer than on others.

I detour to the bathroom, trailed by my ever-present minions, if they’re not zooming throughout the downstairs area, or sleeping.

The kitchen is next, where I might put the kettle on for a pot of tea.

At this point I have to sit down. Thankfully there’s a strategically positioned chair for me to gracelessly collapse into.

I feel so weary, so fatigued, that I can’t even find the energy to squeeze out a few tears at my predicament.

The kettle boils and I gather myself together, make my tea, and feed the wee beasties if necessary. I might perambulate to the large plate-glass window that shows the last vestiges of our peculiarly mild winter’s snow hastily creeping back into the already parched earth.

I admire the view as I lean on the cat-tree and share a few friendly head-butts and nose-kisses with the occupants.

Back in the kitchen I place my fully loaded tea tray on the makeshift trolly, because with two canes, carrying anything in my hands is seldom an option, and hobble back to my study.

This, my friends, is the aftermath of my recent bout with Covid in collision with the state of my knees.

It’s not always this bad, but I’m feeling a tad melancholic this evening.

Apologies for not responding to the comments on my last post. Sometimes, the mere thought of stringing individual letters into coherent sentences is a bridge too far.

I am getting better, just not with the alacrity I expected.

Strange Things

A while back, ‘Hollywood’ tried to make a musical in the vein of the ‘golden era of Hollywood musicals’. They called it ‘La La Land’, and as far as I’m concerned it failed spectacularly. (for reasons that aren’t overly pertinent to this post, so, I’m just going to say it wasn’t my cuppa tea, even though I grew up on a steady diet of those ‘golden age’ musicals. If asked, and strangely enough nobody’s ever asked me, I could probably belt out at least a few choruses from most of them)

I was, however, among the unfortunate few who entertained that opinion, because among a slew of other awards it received 11 nominations at the  2016 Oscars and ran off the stage with 5 of them.

One of which was collared by Emma Stone for best actress.

And here, we’ve arrived at the meat of this post, Emma Stone.

Having been knocked six ways to Sunday by Covid, (the bastard just won’t let me recover without various torturous descents into relapses) I’ve been catching up on my backlist of movies. (the nature of all my other bits that don’t work properly means that going to a cinema is no longer an option, so I wait until the digital releases and indulge  from within the comfort in my favourite chair – with plentiful pots of tea, snacks, and kitten cuddling)

Seperate from the above mentioned movie, Emma really came into ‘focus’ for me with her fabulous portrayal of a young lass by the name of Estelle and how she became the famed villain, Cruella DeVill, in the movie Cruella.

I saw that she had this gift, to portray a self-aware whimsey of a character’s foibles combined with a vulnerability that pulled you right in to the story.

So, that’s a bit of background as to why I watched Emma’s latest offering to the wonderful world of quirky movies – ‘Poor Things’. (if you’ve only seen the trailer, be aware that it is only a shadow of what the film really offers)

The Wikipedia entry gives a bare-bones outline of the plot, but doesn’t do justice to the sheer visual treat that greets one right from the first image to appear on the screen to the last.

If I were to define the visual cinematic style I would call it an, ‘epic Victorian-gothic, steampunk, phantasmagoria’, but that’s just me.

I was entertained by it enthralled by it, mesmerised by it, occasionally horrified-ish-ed by it, impressed beyond words by it, (well not exactly that. I’ve run up quite a total of words here in this post 😊 but you get my drift) but the one question I’m not sure I have answered, is, did I like it? Truth is, I don’t know … and I find that quite, strange.

-oOo-

Herewith be a few katten (combination of kitten and cat, because right now they’re neither) photos to cheer you if you need cheering, and generally invite you to smile indulgently …

Fluffy pillow – check, hot water bottle – check, something interesting to look at out the window – check, human who wants to get into her bed – oh darn

Fluffy pillow – check, hot water bottle – check, something interesting to look at out the window – check, human who wants to get into her bed – oh darn

Plutes and his mum catching some beams

Plutes and his mum catching some beams

Jupes showing off his truck-driver pose to his brother Plutes

Jupes showing off his truck-driver pose to his brother Plutes

All four, catching some beams in the living-room floor

All four, catching some beams in the living-room floor

Mum, finally got the beams to herself

Mum, finally got the beams to herself

-oOo-

 

WordPress Strikes Again

I don’t suppose you’ve heard, but recently there’s this thing going around about what is euphemistically called AI or Artificial Intelligence. (which, of course, is neither ‘artificial’, nor ‘intelligent’)

Well, it seems that a number of companies think it’s a very smart idea to sell the content they host on their platforms to the highest bidder. WordPress, that paragon of virtue and ‘happiness engineered’ updates, has decided to join the club.

Not all aspects of the WordPress family, mind you, just the plebs who take shameless advantage of the free themes. Them’s wot have the paid version are exempt.

Here’s how it works – WP will soon include an option in their ‘privacy’ settings where one can ‘opt-out’ of … and I quote, ‘this site’s content being shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, (aka data mining/scraping for purposes of ad revenue, etc) including those that train AI models.’ (emphasis, and stuff in parentheses, mine)

That means, unless you specifically OPT OUT, your blog’s content will automatically be up for sale by WordPress to whomsoever they wish to sell it to. (sorry, did I say. ‘for sale’? No, WP would never do anything as crass and dastardly as that. I meant ‘shared’)

What this also means is that if you have a WordPress hosted blog, and without your consent, WP stands to make a great deal of money from your creative output, of which you will receive not a single cent. But you will, of course, still be a valued member of the WP family.

I discovered this via Nate Hoffleder’s regular ‘Morning Coffee’, post, wherein he links to one Graham Cluley, and his post about this diabolical deed.

Graham outlines how you can activate the ‘opt-out’ option via your blog’s dashboard. On the left side, (of your dashboard) navigate down the list until you find ‘Settings – General, and scroll down to the Privacy section. There you’ll see the window that Graham has taken a screen shot of, (in the post I’ve linked to above) and enable the ‘Prevent third-party sharing’ option.

Don’t forget to click ‘Save Settings’ on the bottom right of the window – thanks, Meeks, for the reminder. 

Note: all sarcasm in the above rant is intended as sarcasm.

-oOo-

Now for something more peaceful, have some kittens. I call this performance piece, The Drinking Fountain …

Rather than sitting in a row watching me every time I pee, as I mentioned in my last post, they now congregate around the vanity basin and drink, while I pee … although, they all still watch me shower.

At 4 ½ months old they’re starting to look very much like the adult cats they’re fast growing into.

In the foreground we have Mr Wolf (’Little Wolf’ no longer) – in his dashing green collar. Ms Asa in a delightful purple collar, and Jupiter (aka Jupes) in his sunshine yellow collar, are imbibing, and last to the table is Pluto, (aka Plutes) of the orange collar.

Wolfie is by far the largest, followed by the ‘twins’, (Plutes and Jupes) who are of similar size, and Asa who’s going to be much smaller than her boofy brothers.

This is the four of them in what I call their pre-‘kittens-of-the-zoomies-apocalypse’ mode ... warming up their engines prior to the start of the race

This is the four of them in what I call their pre-‘kittens-of-the-zoomies-apocalypse’ mode … warming up their engines prior to the start of the race

Terror Revisited

It was around this time, or a bit before, in 2020 that the world started hearing whispers, rumours, of a ‘flu’ outbreak in China. Not too much to worry about, it had happened before. But then it got worse, didn’t it? Much worse.

By March 2020, Covid-19, as we now know it, was probably already killing millions around the world, and the world was only just starting to catch on.

I’m watching a series called, ‘The Morning Show’, a drama set in an alternate universe and loosely based on whatever the current top rating morning news show in the US right now.

It’s a better than average bit of entertainment, each episode is an hour long, and I’m enjoying it.

Season 1 is set in 2019, and season 2 is set in 2020 – the year Covid-19 changed the world.

The opening shot of the first episode of season 2 is a drone shot of the streets of New York. (where the show takes place) The streets are empty, the roads are bare of the incessant passage of cars. Cafes and shops are closed, boarded up. Everything is silent. Knowing what’s happened (in the show’s timeline) brought those times back to me in a way I wasn’t expecting.

I stopped watching at that point. All sorts of memories and feelings rose to the forefront of my consciousness, none of which I had any desire to re-live … but there they were.

We’d isolated ourselves on our little island in the middle of our lake. Mrs Widds going to work every day because she worked in an essential industry. Going shopping only when we absolutely had to, and in the early days often being the only two people in the store wearing masks and knowing that people were looking at us as though we were pariahs.

The terror of not knowing just exactly how bad it was going to be, or how far would we fall?

As time went on and news story after news story was about the ever-expanding disaster, the official global death toll climbed into the millions. I felt (and in reality, was) completely powerless, and terrified of what the future might hold.

The people not wearing masks became the pariahs.

Streets, neighbourhoods, towns and cities, fell empty of the noises and movement of human beings.

I knew that all it would take for the pandemic to become an extinction level event for a good portion of the human species would be for a few of those humans who were … lets call it, ‘in denial’, to go just a little further than they did.

Like I said, memories I didn’t want to revisit.

But all that was behind me … or so I thought.

I have Covid – variation number four gazillion and seven – and it really is as unpleasant as you’d imagine, but not as bad as it could be.

I’ve had all my vaccines and boosters. I’m resting and staying hydrated. The kittens take turns purring me better, (until they get bored, they’re still kittens after all, and slide off me to go and play with the sibs – aka siblings) and Mrs Widds, who is on the upside of her bout with Covid, is keeping me fed.

I expect to survive, and have put in an order of ‘without any nasty after effects’.

Will keep you posted.

P.S. I did finish watching all three seasons of The Morning Show, (season 4 is slated to debut sometime later this year-ish) and can honestly say it’s worth a watch.

Have You Ever … Welcome To My 2024, Edition

… continuing my occasional series of weird and wonderful things that never, seriously, never ever happen to me …

Have you ever …

… found yourself sitting on the toilet, enjoying a moment of quiet, um, contemplation, when suddenly there are six pairs of wide-open eyes, all staring at you and the expressions on all six faces are exactly the same – “What’cha doin’, hoomin? …

– not a picture of the kits watching me – I mean who takes their camera/phone to the bathroom with them? – but these are the eyes I’m talking about

– not a picture of the kits watching me – I mean who takes their camera/phone to the bathroom with them? – but these are the eyes I’m talking about

Have you ever …

… accidentally left your empty clothes basket in the living room, for just a moment, only to find it completely overrun with kittens?

(It’s kits having fun so it’s a bit long 🙂 )

… and have you ever just vacuumed and you turn around and the rugs are just as messy again? …

(it took me the longest time to figure out why the rugs and carpet were covered in bits of white-ish fluff only minutes after I’d vacuumed – the brand new cat-tree was shedding its artificial ‘fur’. The sheddings stuck to the kittens fur, and the kittens were all over the rugs – mystery solved)

This is the other kitten-tree, now denuded of its excess fluff and fully inhabited by cats …

 

That’s Luna (mum) second from the top. At this stage we didn’t really know who was who. The smallest expandable collars we could find only shrank down to 19 centimeters, and at this stage none of their little necks were big enough for them to not slip the collars off at the first opportunity. We bought an ‘economy’ size pack of colour-coded collars, and waited until we could fit a different coloured one on each kit …

A yawn, not hysterical laugher – however, with this lot it’s hard to tell

A yawn, not hysterical laugher – however, with this lot it’s hard to tell

This is the cat-tree in question, and as you can see the first sunbeams we’d had for a while were being utilised to recharge the kittenly batteries.

And here they are with their collars on, ‘helping’ me fold the washing …

Everyone has an opinion as to how fitted sheets should be folded, and yet no-one was actually willing to help. Funny that!

Everyone has an opinion as to how fitted sheets should be folded, and yet no-one was actually willing to help. Funny that!

An accidental blep

An accidental blep

Two, a boy and a girl, have gone on to a wonderful new home. We decided early on that we wouldn’t separate them any more than we had to, or send anyone out on their own, so their new people worked out perfectly.

And then, there were four …

If we (mostly) fits, we sit ... erm ...sleeps

If we (mostly) fits, we sit … erm …sleeps

A tale of the hanging tails ... and heads ... and paws

A tale of the hanging tails … and heads … and paws

All four of them can sort of sleep in the balcony, for now.

So here we are, the latest photo of our Fab Four … for now …

12 weeks and 2 days old

12 weeks and 2 days old

They all love each other. They fight like cats and, well, cats. They like to sleep apart, but when it comes down to it there’s nothing like a kitten puddle, even if it’s a bit spread out these days.

Top left, in the yellow collar is Jupiter, a boy.

Bottom left, in the orange collar is Pluto – another boy.

To Pluto’s right (and wearing a purple collar that you can hardly see) – Asa, the only girl.

Next to Asa, is Wolf (whose collar is also hidden – it’s green) is the third boy.

That’s it. That’s the lot. And all seven of us are going to live happily ever after.

… and to answer the ‘have you ever?’ question. The answer is ‘nah, never’.

Chuck Wendig Deconstructs The Whole ‘AI Producing Art’ Nonsense, As Only Chuck Wendig Can

In a fabulous rant Chuck Wendig calls out those who would call a computer program ‘intelligent’, and defines why art only works for humans if it’s created by humans. It’s a bit long but so worth a read.

A Party Of Nine

This is the first Christmas in a long time that Mrs Widds and I have had a house full of, well, not people, but sentient beings just the same.

Tomorrow, Christmas Day, the wee things are going to be able to explore the rest of the house, because we’ve kitten-proofed this floor at least, but the little darlings are going to get themselves into all sorts of mischief anyway. That’s what they do.

I may get my study back … at least until they’re tired and want to fall down in their favourite places again …

… behind my monitor for instance.

Hello, my human. Why are you upside down?

Hello, my human. Why are you upside down?

… that tries very hard to keep the eyes open …

Thankfully they’re growing out of the ‘we must chew on everything we can get our teefs into’ stage

Thankfully they’re growing out of the ‘we must chew on everything we can get our teefs into’ stage

… until, inevitably …

We suddenly falls asleeps without any warning

We suddenly falls asleeps without any warning

Another favourite pastime is sitting on top of my tea cosy, while I’m drinking my tea …

Can we helps you drink this funny stuff, human?

Can we helps you drink this funny stuff, human?

Oh well, I’ve had enough tea anyway

Oh well, I’ve had enough tea anyway

And then they have the audacity to comment on how I use my time on my computer …

I finks the red jack should go on the black queen

I finks the red jack should go on the black queen

… never try to play solitaire in a room full of kittens!

Then there’s the household tasks to participate in …

‘Helping’ Mrs Widds clean the kitty-litter boxes

‘Helping’ Mrs Widds clean the kitty-litter boxes

… with six kittens and Luna, they need a lot of kitty-litter.

Then, a Duel To The Bottom Of The Ramp …

 

… where the winner takes the best spot on the kitten-tree, with shadowy minions lurking behind …

None shall enter here who have not proven themselves on the battlefield of the ramp

None shall enter here who have not proven themselves on the battlefield of the ramp

… but then, everyone gets in on the act …

From the kits, Luna, Mrs Widds, and I, we wish you all a wonderfully peaceful festive season, or may you boogie like there’s no tomorrow, or maybe a bit of both.

From the kits, Luna, Mrs Widds, and I, we wish you all a wonderfully peaceful festive season, or may you boogie like there’s no tomorrow, or maybe a bit of both.

See you all in 2024 – The Year Of Writing!

Kitten-Kabootle

A series of reminders that at the age of five-and-a-half-weeks, we are now entering the beyond-adorable phase of adorableness …

I can helpz you wif your typings

I can helpz you wif your typings

Oh well, if you’d rather I didn’t’s, I can gets into trouble over here

Oh well, if you’d rather I didn’t’s, I can gets into trouble over here

-oOo-

Also, a gentle reminder that it really is Winter here in Prince George. Our first decent snowfall happened last weekend …

There’s only about 20 cm on the ground, so it qualifies as picturesque

There’s only about 20 cm on the ground, so it qualifies as picturesque

Quite a contrast to this time last year when the white stuff was 2 meters high, we hit -40C, and our water pipes froze.

-oOo-

Kits just wanna have fun …

 

… and fall asleep on their faces …

Toe-beans!!! – A three-kitten puddle

Toe-beans!!! – A three-kitten puddle

… Luna, showing off her mad skillz

… This was the first time she spontaneously played by herself. That little blue pom-pom is her favouritest thing at the moment.

A six-kitten puddle – see? I told you. Adorable

A six-kitten puddle – see? I told you. Adorable

… five seconds later …

We see you

We see you

… five minutes later …

… If I fits, I sits … and gets up and walks off-stage …

Kitten-domesticity – after half an hour of flat-out playing it was time for a well-earned supper … and other kitten-kabootle-y tasks …

… after which everyone fell asleep, again.

P.S. I created this post whilst holding three sleeping kittens in my arms … this is my life now.

Holding paws

Holding paws

Almost 4 … weeks old

Of late I have been feeling poorly as they say in the classics, so, in lieu of lots of words, I give you kittens.

I am on the mend, but the way back is a bit of a Journey. The kits and Luna are always a delight though …

Luna was never going to be able to feed 6 kittens properly after the first 2 weeks, so we’ve been bottle feeding them since then. This one has just polished off an evening snack … yeah that’s kitten milk everywhere. That’s what kittens do so I’ve discovered. Thankfully much more goes inside them than sticks on the outside.

Her head really isn’t that out of proportion, it’s just that she wanted to see if my camera phone was edible …

This little cutie is a bit over 2 weeks old. The little burp at the end always makes me smile.

 

Here are a couple of the others, doing their ‘melt your heart’ impressions at 3 weeks old …

I played about with the colour settings so you can see the wee beasties clearer

I played about with the colour settings so you can see the wee beasties clearer

The zoom function on my phone camera isn’t all that great, but here you can see the importance of always getting the books you love in print format rather than digital. Hardcovers are even better.

Here we are at almost 4 weeks old. My favourite bit is the tiny tail disappearing at the end.

Rant From A Deaf Woman

I had a hearing test the other day. My ability to discern the shapes of words has decreased by 50% from my last test in 2020. (which showed I was already 40% below the norm)

Which sucks … it really sucks.

Not that knowing this fact has changed anything, but still, it sucks.

However, that’s not what I’m ranting about.

I have a very clear message on my voicemail wherein I state, (slightly paraphrased) that I’m deaf and to please contact me via text, or if you must, use voicemail please speak slowly and succinctly.

So, this numpty-numbnuts, and this is a message for a medical appointment mind you, speaks as though he’s got a mouth full of marbles, (not succinct) and so fast that not even Mrs Widds, who can hear a snowflake fall five hundred meters away, can understand a singly bloody word he was saying. (not slowly)

I am tempted, sorely tempted, to change my voicemail message to this:

‘I’m deaf. When you speak fast and incoherently I can’t hear nor understand you. That’s just the way it is. If you can’t be bothered to, a) leave me a text message, or b) step out of your comfort zone for 15 seconds to communicate your message clearly, by speaking slower and articulately, then why the hell should I be bothered returning your call?’

Sorely tempted.

-oOo-

On to other and far more cyoot things, namely KITTENS!!! Two-week-old kittens.

It’s truly astonishing how these 6 wee villains can go from this …

An adorable pile of legs and fluff

An adorable pile of legs and fluff

To this …

… in the blink of an eye.