Stabilizing

In the past couple of months since I started getting proactive about my colony, I've noticed some changes.

Before, I gave them two stadium cups full of dry cat food a day. This was double amount I was giving when I found the initial litter of kittens way back in July of 2005. Every evening about five of them would come running to me when they heard me coming. Sometimes I'd find new ones and get a knot in my stomach thinking about the situation getting out of hand.

Now, I give them four stadium cups full and two cans of wet food. This was Heather's suggestion. I was a little hesitant at first. Do I really want to keep doubling the amount of food I'm giving? That would soon get expensive. But, with the two spay/neuter events I think I've gotten just under half the population. I have an appointment to bring four more in on December 10th and there's a slight chance I can bring in two for free this upcoming weekend. Transportation will be an issue. I'll keep you posted.

Anyway, I'm getting off track. Four cups dry food, two cans wet food and I have a permanent water dish back there that I rinse and refill every evening. Now, they don't come running. They wait (relatively) quietly back there for me. One still mews at me, but it's more of a greeting than a demand. We do have a pond at the complex and lots of puddles on a regular basis. But I learned to give them water to help keep them for scavenging around the complex too much. Kitties with full bellies and enough water have no reason to crawl under people's cars or howl outside people's windows. And largely, I haven't seen them out and about as much as I used too. But they're still all accounted for, I take attendance at dinner. Hopefully within a couple of months I can be confident the population won't grow anymore and I don't have to keep upping the food. And maybe, just maybe they'll stay away from the baby ducks.

How Quickly We Forget

Thanksgiving I worked. Yesterday (Friday) I worked. I had my candidacy proposal due by midnight Friday/Saturday (after much negotiation with Dr. Hari). Admittedly I put it on the back burner a little bit. I had a lot of deadlines this past week and I knew I could talk Dr. Hari into just about anything. Still, I worked my booty off on Thanksgiving and that sucked. But I finished. Dr. Hari recommended a roughly 30 page candidacy proposal in which I write a brief summary of my masters' work, a moderately detailed summary of the work I've done since I was awarded my masters' degree and a detailed plan of what I wish to accomplish before I get my Ph.D. Last night at 10 pm I emailed him my 40(!) page document and then went to bed for 12 hours. Next Tuesday I have to present this work to my Ph.D. committe in an hour long closed-door presentation. At that point, I will no longer be a grad student. I will be a Ph.D. candidate. I'm excited and nervous. I'm nervous because I will be the one talking to six professors that know a lot more than I do. I'm excited because I love my reearch and always enjoy the opportunity to share it. I realize that makes me a big dork.

Friday I took a short break to get some materials from the lab and then go to Panera to bring home some lunch. I was expecting it to be pretty busy what with everyone being out and about. When I walked in I headed straight to the register (1/2 Fandago salad and a bowl of garden vegetable soup, I didn't need to look at the menu). There was one person working the register and one person placing an order. I stepped out of the way and patiently waited, pleasantly surprised at how slow it was. While I was waiting a woman got in line behind me with a little boy. I think the woman placing the order mucst have ordered something from the bakery as well. The cashier made eye contact with me, put up a finger signaling "Give me a minute" and I smiled and nodded. No problemo. The woman behind me, however, was quite upset by this development.

"Don't they know it's the day after Thanksgiving?!" she said loudly. I ignored her.

"Isn't there anyone else to work the register?!"

I turned and looked at her, noticing there were a couple more people in line. The little boy was getting antsy, tugging on her shirt and whining.

"She said she'd be right back." I said firmly in case the woman didn't understand what was going on.

"I don't care! There should someone else taking orders! Get the manager up here!"

At this time the initial cashier came back looking weary and gestured for me to approach the register. In the meantime, the woman behind me was still caryying on.

"I mean, geez! Aren't there more people here? It's the day after Thankgiving!"

The cashier turned to me and said under her breath, "And how quickly we forget to be thankful..."

I smiled knowlingly and apologized to her for having to deal with that crap. She thanked me and we proceeded to do business.

Besides displaying an utter lack of class, this woman in line reminded me of a vow I made about ten years ago. In high school and part of college I used to work at a garden center in suburban Minneapolis where I was verbally abused on a regular basis by retired people and housewives who felt they had nothing better to do than display their authority over high school students. I vowed that no matter if I was a stay at home mom, a doctor, a lawyer or the president of the United States I was going to treat people in the service industry with respect. I know what it's like to have a shitty job that doesn't pay well. I know what it's like to be on your feet between 8 and 12 hours in a day and get no appreciation. When it's busy and people are impatient and more than willing to take their frustrations out on the faceless person behind the register.

And it wasn't until the day AFTER thanksgiving this year until I remembered to stop and think about it. I was taking a break from a job I love. I was working from home with my own little cat family while my dear husband at work periodically sent me text messages reminding me how much I am loved. What did I do to desereve this?

Redemption

So even though my Boys got swept in the first round of the playoffs (which traumatized be to the point of not even being able to blog about it), I found comfort in the fact that players are not judged by their post season performance. Despite shitting a huge brick in the playoffs, the Twins had a phenomenal year culminating in one of the most dramatic final season days I have ever seen. These facts did not go unnoticed.

Exhibit A:

Baby Jesus Won the Batting Title.
Okay, people don't vote on this. But it was awesome he got it because he is the first AL catcher ever to get it and his performance was a big reason they did so well. Plus, I just can't resist posting a picture of him.

Exhibit B:

Johan Santana Won the AL Cy Young Award.
His second one in three years, he was voted the winner unanimously. He led the league in wins, strikeouts and ERA.

And now....

Exhibit C:

Justin Morneau Wins AL Most Valuable Player.
Totally made my day. Anytime a Twin beats out a Yankee is an exceptional piece of good news. He really deserved it, it was basically the first year in a very long time we had a legitimate power hitter. Good job Baby Harmon!

Baby Girls

Dean and I had a wonderful weekend. For the first time since we got married, we went on a date. Saturday afternoon we drove to Orlando for the Magic game. We had rented a room at the Sheraton so that we could enjoy some beers at the game and not have to worry about driving the 70 miles home late at night.

We checked in to the hotel and took advantage of the Starbucks in the lobby. We then walked the half mile to TD Waterhouse Centre because it was such a lovely afternoon. Dean likes to get to arenas early to watch batting practice/shoot around, etc. but we didn't realize that the Waterhouse opened an hour later than we had anticipated. We crossed the street to the Marriott and shared a bucket of beers to kill some time.

Our conversation took a random turn, as usual, and we started discussing baby names. First of all: NO NOT YET. I have plenty more I want to do and learn before I become responsible for another human being. But.... kids names are something I think about quite a bit. I mean, it's as close to defining your child as you can get in the first few moments of his/her life. I want to pick some names and roll them around for a few years to make sure I can live with one, let alone my poor child.

Anyway, I do have a particular name picked out for a daughter that I've liked for several years. Unfortunately, Dean doesn't like it as much as me. It's not that he doesn't like the name in general, but he can't see naming our daughter that name. Plus, it's also the name of a song.

Dean: "I think it's a really pretty name. But I can just see little --- in college getting lured into bed by some frat boy singing that song."

Me: "So? How do you know frat boys will be singing that song in 20 years?"

Dean: "Frat boys will always be singing that song."

Dean had been pushing for a name he thought up for a girl several days ago. I was hoping he would have forgotten about it by now.

Dean: "Oh, c'mon! It's so original! And unique!"

Me: "I don't like it. It's ghetto."

Dean: "No way! It's a lot better than anything you've thought up."

Me: "Yeah right. We can name our next cat that name, but not our daughter."

Dean: "I have an idea. Put both names up on your blog and have people vote on it. Let the people decide."

Me (knowing what y'all would think): "Gladly."

It seemed decided. We turned to watch the Ohio State Michigan game while we finished up our beers. A few minutes later, Dean tapped me nervously on the shoulder.

"Don't put the name on your blog. I don't want anyone stealing it. I can just see you holding the vote and all your friends liking it so much all their little daughters will be named ---. Then I'll really be disappointed."

Sorry guys. I guess you'll have to think up your own names.

Putting Bessie out to Pasture

We bought a new laptop this week and it came in yesterday. I have been scarce in the blogosphere because I have a lot going on at work and trying to set up a new computer has become a full time job in itself.

Why did we get a new laptop? Here are some good reasons. My old laptop (affectionately named Bessie) is 4 1/2 years old. She's already had a longer life than many laptops. Bessie and her accessories weigh in excess of 15 pounds. She earned her name at the last APS conference when I made the boys lug her around half the time. When I went to give my talk, I found out the hard way that Bessie no longer cared to speak with a projector. She also turns off periodically when she's feeling cranky. A couple weeks ago, the little latch that holds in various modules one can plug in (floppy drive, CD write drive, extra battery, etc) broke off, so if one wants to use any of these features, one must physically maintain electrical contact by firmly pressing in the drive. With Bessie letting me know that she wishes to enter into retirement and with some of our wedding money, we decided this was a smart purchase. Recently I'd been having nightmares of being hysterical while someone from the Geek Squad tries to recover bits and pieces of my Ph.D. dissertation from Bessie's hard drive. This way, Bessie is still completely functional but can pass away quietly knowing her job is done.

The biggest reason of all for getting a new laptop? So far the majority of our marital spats have consisted of who gets to surf on the internet while we are both watching TV. Apparently it is not enough to have the TV on and only one of us surfing the net. Dean needs to check basketball stats for his fantasy league while flipping between several games. I need to blog at the drop of a hat when inspiration strikes. Now, we are listening to the Magic game on TV, each sitting at a computer (me at the new one of course), occasionally exchanging a wink over the monitor.