the difference
Story related from Teresa:
I just saw a great example of the difference between little boys and girls.
There was a lizard on the ground, and the little girl said “Aww, look at the baby lizard!”
The boy replied with “Kill It!”
Indeed
metal mayhem
Happiness
EDIT: Embarrassment: Thinking you took a picture of Living Sacrifice playing and posted it on your blog from your phone, when in reality you took a terrible picture of smeary lights.
Either way, Living Sacrifice was amazing as always.
to florida!
to florida!
Originally uploaded by toekneebullard
On our way
and then the world crashes in
For Father’s Day Teresa got me a Wii. Well, actually, for Father’s Day Teresa got me the permission to go search for a Wii for a week, but I won’t go into that story.
When you turn on the Wii, it takes you to Wii Channels, a sort of desktop for the console, which lets you add things like a weather section, a picture viewer, internet browser, that sort of stuff.
The console has a very friendly vibe to it. The music is calming, everything is bathed in bright, almost heavenly white, and everythign has that Nintendo brand candy coating over it. The half hour or so you spend setting up your first Mii and getting to know the console, you’re just coated in this overall sense of relaxation and fun. It’s a very effective branding. I enjoy checking the weather on it in the morning, maybe playing a few holes of Wii Sports Golf. It’s a nice way to start the day.
This morning I clicked on the news channel to see the national headlines, and the whole thing fell to pieces. All the heavenly white hues and the peaceful, happy music couldn’t cover up the ugliness of the headlines. Entwistle Guilty in Murders of Wife, Daughter. Supreme Court Rejects Death Penalty for Child Rape. Suspects arrested in underage sex trade roundup. So much for the happy family friendly vibe huh?
What a way to start the day. Think I might take the news channel off the console.
in memoriam
Yesterday evening my parents had the terrible responsibility of putting my cat Taylor to sleep. I say my cat, but that’s only because I took him with me once I moved out from my parents, when really, everyone in my family had a significant part of their lives with him.
Taylor came into our family shortly after our youngest cat, Katie was stolen during a move. I remember the night we got him, my sister Kathie said there would be a surprise, and all I could imagine was that we were going to go to Toys ‘R Us. Instead we went out and got a cat.
There are two accounts to the origin of his name. One from my mother, who says, due to his beautiful eyes, he was named after Elizabeth Taylor. The other, from my older sister Kathie, who claims he was named after a character from some TV movie that she had a crush on.
Taylor had the unfortunate duty of living in the shadow of Patches, the greatest cat in the world. There was nothing wrong with Taylor, he was very cat like, lots of sitting around, not really caring about you so much. But when you compared him to Patches, the most loving, wonderful cat in the world, he seemed fairly deficient.
But shortly after Patches died, Taylor seemed to pick up the torch. Unfortunately, most of my family never got to see this side of him. Taylor very much became the lap cat. He would join you on the coach to watch TV, he’d nap with you, he’d even stare at you while you sat on the toilet. OK, I guess you had to be there to understand the affectionate nature of that last one.
With Noah coming into the picture, and Taylor’s age weighing heavily on him, we were unable to afford to keep up with the vet in both money and time. He remained a great cat but the maintenance was just too much for new parents. At this point my parents took over his care back in Florida.
I really only ever got to see Taylor one more time. This is what really pains me. My parents ended up with an old, broke-down cat that was too sick feeling to be very affectionate, and the bills for his care. It got to a breaking point a couple weeks ago when Taylor got Ringworm, and the dipping treatment would result in him shutting down and not eating. This meant he had to stay at the vet to be re-hydrated, and a simple dipping procedure would become a 500 dollar weekend at the vets.
So last night my parents took him home, and we had hoped that they would care for him until Saturday, when I could be in town and we could put him to sleep together. Unfortunately, as soon as he got back to my parents house, he began very labored breathing. My parents called the vet, who made a house call, and he was put to sleep.
Taylor was a good cat. It took him some aging to get there, but all in all, he was a wonderful addition to our family. He was already missed by me, and knowing that he’s not still waiting for me to visit him is another little pain I’ll have to deal with.
Thanks for the good times Taylor. Not so much thanks for dragging poop all over everything that one time. That was totally uncool. But I’m sure that memory will fade and I’ll just keep the ones of you hopping up on the coach and attacking my chin with yours, until my goatee was covered in cat slobber.
hey!
Silly Noah. That’s not a leech! That’s a gargantuan bump on your head from falling down.
and the attitude develops
Noah has quickly been developing an attitude. Gone are the days of “Oh, he’s just a baby” and now we’re in the era of “it’s what he wants.” This has been going on for a while now, but tonight had a particular moment of note.
We’re not to the point of disciplining him yet. We tell him not to touch things, we try and redirect his attention, but no time out corners just yet. But tonight, just after I came home, I put my bag on the chair and Noah tried to start playing with it. I told him I didn’t want him playing with it, and I pulled him away into the center of the room to play around. As Teresa and I talked Noah made his way around the room, and started to head towards my bag. Eyes connected, I gave hima firm “Noah, don’t” and he moved away from it. Few minutes pass, and he’s at it again, and I repeat the action.
“Noah, don’t touch.” This time though, he decides to go ahead and so his thing, so I clap my hands as loud and I can and say “NOAH! DON’T!” he turns, looks at me, then turns away, and falls to his butt and begins to cry. He quickly crawls towards Teresa, mustering up a good cry, and climbs her legs for her affection.
It was so obvious he was trying to get sympathy from Tree because I was m”mean” to him. But she helped out and just let him stay down there, letting me be the one to sooth him. Of course, upon picking him up, he just cries more, reaching for Teresa.
It’s funny to watch him try and manipulate us. I think we’re both pretty good at ignoring his tantrums and whatnot (at least Teresa seems to do fine when I’m around, who knows what she does when I’m not). I’m hoping that since it’s a new thing, he’s pushing the boundaries now trying to figure them out. If this is an indicator of his personality…we’re going to be butting heads quite often.
noah walks! (for real this time)
Noah has really started to walk around a lot. He still only manages 5 or 6 steps, but he does it a lot more now, and he does it best on his own, without us doing the whole “Come on! You can do it!” thing.
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