BTW

My Bestest Buddies

For this week's Carnival of the Dogs:  Things are looking up.  Well, ok, it's Pennie & Zach that are looking up. 

I must've had some kind of dog treat in my hands to get this kind of undivided attention.

Another Great Wrongness

I've been so busy lately, I haven't been able to pause to think.  I've been so busy I totally missed the Carnival of the Recipes.  And The Friday Ark, and the Thursday photo challenge.  And I missed Chocolate Friday!  I haven't done any blogsurfing for days and days.  I feel like everything is falling apart.  This is just wrong.  A person's job should not interfere with their bloglife.  I want my bloglife back!!!

A Great Wrongness

I've never been a big fan of the type of "series" books that some authors produce that use the cliffhanger ploy to keep you buying the next, and the next and the next... 

Books ought to have satifsying endings.  I don't necessarily mean happy endings, and definitely NOT smarmy or sappy or contrived endings.  It's ok if there's death, or separation, or loss, as long as the ending  ties things up in an emotionally satisfying way. 

The latest Harry Potter was hugely disappointing to me in this way.  Not only was it NOT satisfying.  It was deeply disturbing.

I've been taking my time finishing it, wanting to savor the experience, even though my brother and nieces have long finished it and chaffed when I wouldn't let them talk about it around me.  They did let slip that somebody dies, but I wouldn't let them say any more.  I still wasn't prepared for the ending. 

"Wasn't prepared" is a huge understatement.  I was devastated.  Hugely affected.  Cried for hours.  Went into a kind of world-tilting daze. 

I even did that morning wake-up thing I used to do when mom first died.  You start to wake up, you feel normal and fine, and then you suddenly remember.  The thought would steal across my brain "she's dead", and then I'd come fully awake, heart pounding, world tilting, dark reality. 

I actually did that after finishing the Half-Blood Prince.  "He's dead" brought me fully awake with that same feeling of shock and dark reality.

The fact that the reality of a book stole into my "real" world is partly what disturbed me.  That I was so affected by it as to take it inside me that much.  But I've always been susceptible to deep emotional involvement.  I have to be careful what movies I watch, what books I read.  And with this one ... it triggers personal stuff for me, relating to my mom's death in many different ways. 

But there's something else too, that I just have to say.  I may even have to write Rowling and complain, not that she'd ever read it, but it might make me feel better to write it.

It's that nasty cliff-hanger tactic.  I've read several series of books in the sci-fi/fantasy genre that do that, and eventually I found myself getting irritated.  There was never a satisfactory ending, never a feeling of fullness in the heart when putting the book down.  There was only a feeling of needing more, needing the next book, needing the loose ends to tie up.  When I got wise to the keep-em-coming-back tactic, when I realized there would never be a truly satisfying ending, I stopped reading/buying those books. 

It's soap-opera literature is what it is.  It always leaves you wanting more.  And IMO it's a tacky ploy.  It says the author doesn't trust their characters and story lines to be enough to draw readers back.  Or worse, they just want the money from the next sale. 

Now, there are some good reasons to have a series with cliffhanger endings.  If the story is just too big to contain in one book, for instance, like the Trilogy of the Rings.  That's quite a different thing.

And it's possible to become addicted to and involved in the story and keep reading/buying, even though you know there won't be a satisfactory wrap-up.  It's a choice you're making then, and you make it knowing what to expect from that author.  You don't expect a wrap-up.  You know you're going to be left hanging and waiting for the next book.

But Rowling has never done that.  She's never stooped to using that ploy, all the Harry Potter endings have been very satisfying.  All the loose ends of the story got wrapped up in good enough ways, even though you knew there would be more to tell later, more and bigger hidden things coming in the next book.  But this last book took some kind of weird twist.  As an author, did Rowling suddenly decide to milk the sales?  Did somebody tell her this would be a good idea, to keep things unresolved, unexplained, unsatisfying?  Or maybe she got a blowed-up head and figures that she can do no wrong, that people will keep buying and reading no matter what.

But she's broken with what I have come to expect of her.  She's changed her MO.  And *that* is as disturbing to me as the fact that she left the world of HP in chaos and uncertainty and darkness.  She left the explanations and understandings .. unexplained.  The loose ends ... untied. 

It's a great wrongness.  And I wish it didn't bother me so much.  I feel really silly, being so affected by this.  I don't really have anybody I can talk to about this, so I'm confessing here.  I can't say "it's just a book".  And I trusted Rowling.  I trusted that the satisfying ending would be there, so I didn't have any guards up on my heart.  I trusted her.  It feels like a betrayal to me, a betrayal by the author, as much as the betrayals of the characters in the book.

I Love Da Blues

When these African Lovebirds started showing up in my back yard, I only really noticed the brighter colored birds.  The bright greens with their reddish faces were like living flowers, moving splotches of color.  And of course, when yellow bird and his progeny showed up, they were the brightest and most noticeable.  I rarely paid attention to the softer shaded blues.

But I've spent a lot of time watching them this past month, and I've decided the blues are the best of the lot.  They're not as bright, true.  In the shade of the tree they can appear grayish and dull.  But when the sun hits them just right, or when they turn and show their underbellies, they reveal a lovely shade of turquoise blue.  It's subtle.  A gentler coloring, layered and faceted. 

I have hundreds and hundreds of pictures now, but since I'm having to shoot through a window, most of them aren't worth sharing. And birds move so fast! I don't see how other birders can take such beautiful shots. Of course, I'm still using my little digital, no telephoto lens. I have a "sports" setting on the camera, which made me laugh, but maybe I should try that on these speedy birds.

And look who's lurking there again!

Again, I was focusing on the lovebird, didn't even notice that yellow-eyed fellow lurking in the background. He doesn't seem to be scaring anybody off though, in fact, he seems more timid than the other birds.

The Scream

The famous painting by Edvard Munch was stolen on this date in 2004.  It's still at large. 

This is one of my favorite works of art.  It speaks to dark places in the soul, places of terror and anguish both.  Powerful imagery that leaves an imprint, that stays with you when you walk away.  That's the way the best art is.  It leaves an impression in your soul's eye.

"Scream" isn't quite the right translation, apparently.  The actual title is Skrik, a Norweigian word with common origins to the word shriek.  The painting has occasionally been called The Cry.  Most of us just know it as The Scream.

As to the painting's inspiration, Munch says

I was walking along a path with two friends – the sun was setting – suddenly the sky turned blood red – I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence – there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city – my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety – and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature.

Somebody's Lurking

Heh.  I was so intent on getting a picture of this green lovebird with his head in the feeder, I didn't even notice the woodpecker behind him (lower left) or the yellow-eyed sharp-beaked fellow lurking above him (upper left).  This and more lovebird pics in my flickr critter set.

Anybody know what kind of bird the yellow-eye might be? His beak is sharp and hooked. That evil eye and the way he walks makes him look a little like a velocaraptor.

I and the Bird - A Feathered Carnival

I and the Bird is finally up!  I submitted my lovebird posts and have been waiting not too patiently, and it's finally up.  This edition of the feathered carnival is hosted at MilkRiverBlog, and Tony has done an amazing job of putting together graphical links!  Very cool.  If you have bird pics to share for the next edition, be sure to send your submissions to mike(at)10000birds(dot)com by Aug. 30th!

Non-Human Friends

I've always been of the mind that animals have feelings, are special, and ought to be treated with the same respect we give humans.  Of course, some people don't respect human life either.  I wish there was a way to move all those non-respecters to another planet.  A sort of banishment, to a planet all their own, where they could kill each other and hurt each other and have no feelings about it - to their absent-hearts' content.

Anyway...

I need to have animals around me.  I need to have cats and dogs, but I also need to have wildlife.  I feed these lovely birds, and it makes my heart happy to hear them chattering loudly outside my window.  They sound so ... alive. 

I used to feed the bunnies.  In fact, I dug out a portion of the rockery to make bunny condos.  There were connecting tunnels, 3 entrance/exit holes, and several little cubbies they could use for nesting.  I used to put carrot bits and parsley and whatnot into the holes, and the rabbits began using them.  For several years we had litters of baby bunnies peeking out and lord they were so CUTE.  We set binoculars by the window so we could watch them close up. 

We had to develop an alarm system to train them to run away when we opened the doors to let the dogs or cats out.  They were all pretty old by then, but still, occasionally one of the cats would get a bunny.  Most of the time they'd already be dead by the time the gift arrived at my feet, but once it was a live one, and so tiny his eyes weren't open.  I saved him from the jaws of death and put him in a box, dashed to the pet store for a quicky lesson on nursing, and returned with a cage, bedding, and several cans of kitten milk.  For weeks I bottle fed the little guy, and then graduated him to solid foods, and he grew plump and sleek.  I tried not to handle him more than necessary because I didn't want him to become a pet. 

That was the hardest thing.  Knowing a time would come to let him go.  He was not happy in a cage.  As he grew bigger, he kept trying to run in the little space, and he kicked up his heels a lot.  I could practically feel his frustration and I couldn't stand keeping him caged against his nature.  If the other animals wouldve accepted him, I would have trained him to use a litter box and let him run around the house.  I did have a pet rabbit like that once.  But both the cats and the dogs just saw FOOD.

Eventually the cats got old and couldn't hunt anymore.  When the dogs got old and died, we got two new puppers, the jewels of my heart.  At the time, I thought they would get used to the cats, and I always thought someday there would be kittens in the house again too.  Not right away, of course.  The old cats had a hard enough time with rowdy puppies, and they never did get used to each other.  Even after the old cats went to kitty heaven, I had fears about getting new kittens, because the dogs, the jewels of my heart tho they are, never learned that cats are our friends.  They learned to chase cats out of our yard, and chase bunnies, and chase mice, and they learned to hunt in tandem like pack dogs.  Their hunting instincts are powerful.  It scares the crap out of me to think of getting a kitten and wake up one day to find it half eaten.  I get sick just thinking about it. 

I long for another cat.  Especially now that my aunt has Biscuit.  I need a cat.  Cats fill a different place in my heart from dogs.  Both essential, just different.  I need kittylove. 

And ever since we've had these two dogs, I've had to stop feeding the rabbits.  I couldn't cope with watching them be run down, and we couldn't break the dogs of the habit.  One dog chasing is a problem.  Two dogs doing that pack-hunting thing is downright terrifying.  They will usually stop if we're out there with them, and they will drop an animal if I yell, but I can't be out there with them all the time.  It just breaks my heart.  Mother nature is no mother.  There's something really WRONG in this plan.

I love my doggers, but it may be time to have a serious talk.  I don't know if I can bring a kitten into the house, maybe a slightly older cat would be better.  Less food-like, more able to self-protect. 

I don't know.  But my need is great.

Monday Monday

I think gravity was extra heavy today.  You know it's going to be a bad day when you start out with energy in the negative numbers. 

That's not uncommon for me anymore.  But I really needed the extra brain cells today.  I had a ton of work to do and it was the kind that required maximum brainage. I managed to haul myself up to average speed by way of large doses of caffeine.  But "average" just means the ground doesn't slope upwards anymore.  I sure miss the days when the slope went down and the ride was easy.  You never know what you've got until you don't got it anymore.  I didn't value my health or my energy levels, I didn't think old age or illness would ever happen to me.   

It's no good complaining.  But it's a scary thought that I'm getting older, and I don't have anything to fall back on.  I don't even have kids to go stay with when I become decrepit. 

And how far away IS decrepit, anyway??? 

On the good side, I did manage to finish the project I was working on, and the code all works.  Now I feel all buzzy, sitting here looking at the remains of my third double-shot of espresso, wondering how long it will be before I crash.  I have to try to make to bedtime.  Stopping for a nap now would totally mess up my sleep cycle.  But I feel it creeping up on me, the lulling fingers of sleep reaching me through the remnants of the buzz.  I am falling, fading, feeling the backlash.  That which goes up, even if it's only to an artificially induced "average", will come back down. 

Alas for the days of youth when I could go all night and all day on very little sleep.  *yawn* 

*YAWN*

Those days are definitely ... zzzzz-zzzzzz-zzzzzzzzzzz

Friday Furry Friends: Hiding

For this week's Ark, doggers and kitters "hiding".
Update: For more furry friends, be sure to also visit the Carnival of the Cats and the Carnival of the Dogs.