Amber & Boundary Issues

Although I mocked Hurricane Irene's immediate effects on my neighborhood, she actually did leave some damage in her wake which I discovered the following week during a heavy downpour.  And then, I get to rediscover her wrath when I come home after a rainy day like today.

My air conditioner mysterious became a running faucet during moderate to heavy rain storms.  That is, there is one spot where water actually runs (it does not merely drip) out of it, onto the window sill, onto the floor.  (My dad's theory is that it got jostled in the storm so that the front is lower than the back.  Damn you, mayor Bloomberg for not warning me about the consequences of leaving it in.)  The rain water river then makes a b-line for any power strips or computer equipment it can saturate. The floor today was slightly more lake-like than river-esque, probably because by the time I got home it had stopped raining.

Photographing flooding on your floor with an iPhone is really challenging, mostly because it just looks like the floor is shiny (vs. wet) and also because it's hard to avoid getting giant Pickles fur-bunnies in the shot and thereby revealing you haven't vacuumed this week.  But here is an overhead shot that my friends at NASA took with their satellite that can see through ceilings.

Pickles fur shows up as brown on satellite photography and faux hardwood floors look green.

Additionally, there is a menacing hole in paint and wet mark in the bedroom ceiling that leaks water right on top of the armoir (next to where my wireless router lives!).

And, there is an area of the bedroom wall that "sweats" as rain sinks through the bricks outside and saturates the plaster.

Anyhow, I am done mopping up today's wetness and will wash the 12 towels I used tomorrow in case it rains again over the weekend (and this time, maybe I will just leave the towels down?).  And, someday, maybe, I will be strong enough to fix the AC or my super will really come and do something about the holes.  Or, I will move.

Or, I'll continue to use tons of towels and have a bit too much of the outside coming in every now and then?

Amber & Go Aprons

During Hurricane Irene, I was introduced to the term "go bag."  Although the name is all modern and squared puffy NYC letters, the concept is, of course, not new to me.  I have long thought about what I would put in my Cloverfield Monster Escape Sack.  And the answer is, and has always been: kitties.

But having four kitties presents HUGE problems.  How do I get all four kitties out of the apartment in case of alien just-hatched JJ Abrams baby monster thing?  Or in the less likely event of fire?

That huge problem?  Erl just solved it.  May I present the Safe Babies Apron?

"Oh!  What's that?  The sound of the Cloverfield Monster roaring?  Come on, kitties.  Time to evacuate.  One of you in each pocket."

"Good thing I specially modified the pockets with velcro closures to keep Ginger from jumping out and running up to the monster and rubbing his face on it."  (Zipper would be more secure, but, because I would be clearly in panic mode during use, more prone to ears being zipped in.)

Now, skeptics among you might think the kitties won't like this very much.  I bet they'll like it alot more than getting eaten by some giant thing with emotionless bug eyes.  Or, being thrown into a backpack all together.  Or, being stuffed all four into a Sherpa bag.

"Everybody in your pocket?  Okay, let's get on the bike and head for the GWB because there is no way the monster is coming to Fort Lee, New Jersey.  I mean, maybe Hoboken or Jersey City.  Or up the Hudson, but he won't ever bother with Fort Lee."

Maybe you're just having trouble visualizing it.

There?  See what a good idea this?  I've already emailed for a price inquiry into my desired qty (1).

Amber & It's 6:45 am: Do You Know Where Your Cats Are?

Ginger is struggling, like his big brother or Fred Astaire have struggled before him,  to remember which is up and and which is down.

Or, he was doing some late night filing for me and then collapsed in front of the cabinet in exhaustion.

Tiggy is, as always, very daintily sitting on the couch, patiently awaiting chest rubs.

(And, yes, that is my basket of winter accessories behind her, waiting to be sorted through before the season begins.  I'm kind of over summer.)

Pickles is passed out in the donut, absolutely too sleepy to even notice me.

Of course, if he wasn't up all night running around like a wild thing he might not be so exhausted.  But then again, maybe cultivating those ridiculous curly fronds of fur between his toes drains all his energy.

And, Woody?  Well, Woody is right near my pillow.

Where else would my best buddy in the entire world be?

Of course, the reason I was wide awake at 6:45 a.m. might also be that my kitty guy was purring loudly (and with his chest woes, trust me: LOUDLY) near my head.  But the sound of his happiness is definitely worth it.  I can't think of a better way to wake up.  Although I can think of a better time.  7:30, for example.

P.S. Yes, my pillow is on the mattress on the floor.  My guy is still having mobility issues, and we both sleep better if he's free but there's nowhere to fall off.

Amber & Up High Time

Woody discovers Ginger's secret stash of catnip toys on top of the dresser. (I helped him up there. And down.) Note: squeelicious pink tongue.

Amber & YouTube Sensations

Intrepid and sometimes-journalist James writes, "I found one of those YouTube sensations all the kids like to Twitter and Facebook about."

So, before it goes viral and everybody else knows, you, dear reader, can get on the breaking edge of this craze.




And two more links here and here for more listening pleasure.

Amber & Watching, Waiting

Last week was very dramatic.  On Monday, Woody fell and seemed to hurt his backside.  We went to the kitty ER late Monday into Tuesday.  On Wednesday, we went to see our regular vet who took x-rays, determined there were no broken bones, and then scheduled us to see an orthopedist on Thursday with the hope that a specialist might be able to determine if there was a ligament broken (again).  The orthopedist could find nothing wrong, was concerned we might be seeing a spinal injury, and referred us to a neurologist... in Yonkers.

So, off we went to Yonkers.  None of us were very excited about it.

But, once there, my buddy barely even limped.  In fact, he jumped up twice onto the guest chair in the exam room, walked around casually, and showed no sign of diminished reflexes.  Hrm.

The neurologist felt that the problem was "not that serious" since Woody was, apparently, able to mask it so well, although he still stood by the theory it could be a spinal issue like "impingement on the spinal cord."  (Which sounds serious to me, dear readers.)  So, we were sent home to monitor the boy and look for progress in any direction.

Mostly, the progress we have seen seems to be in the direction of napping, sometimes with brothers...

...sometimes with brothers and a blow-dryer on an ergonomic pillow I bought for myself (but cannot figure out--who sleeps in one position all night?)....

So, the boy seems sort of up and down.  He can seem fine walking from room to room, but then you notice his tail is always curling to one side of his body.  Or, he will fall trying to jump up onto the window sill near the stove to steal eggs from the fry pan and then be very limpy for a short time.  It seems like just the one leg to me, but then sometimes it seems like the hip?  It's all very confusing.

But, he seems happy.  He can get around, beg for people food, snuggle me at night (with the mattress on the floor), and even scratch his left ear with his bad leg.  Really, he seems like regular old Woody.  Just a little limpier?  So maybe just regular but extra-old Woody?

Do you think Hercule Poirot does veterinary house calls?