Cute Cat Friday 2016-01-15: Belle

Regal lady in her cat bed.

We've had a major setback in relations between Belle and Joni, and I'm afraid this will not work out. More details to follow when we know what is happening.

Election Stories 1: Winners & Losers

Very few people vote for a detailed manifesto; we vote for stories.

Any major party's election manifesto makes for deadly dull reading. It's an earnest, detailed description of actions they would take if they get into power. It's important to have one, so the government can be held to account for what it promised.

However, no normal person would read the whole thing. Anyone who studies it closely is being paid to do so, or is an obsessive political anorak, or quite possibly both. I take a closer interest in politics than most people, but I've never read a manifesto in full and seldom read them at all.

Instead, we vote for a story. Pundits like to call it a narrative because that sounds fancier, but really it's a story. It needs to be short and simple, because we're easily distracted, and the stories on Game of Thrones are more entertaining. Successful political parties understand this.

Cute Cat Friday 2016-01-08: Joni

Lap dwelling cat (slightly angled).

Introductions are still making progress. Belle is now able to sit in the same room as Joni for short periods without hissing, running away, or otherwise freaking out, which is definitely a good sign.

Libraries and Inspiration

One day I wondered what happened to Martyn Godfrey; Google told me he passed away more than fifteen years ago. It was one of those weird, uncomfortable moments the Internet makes possible. I felt surprised, saddened, and irrationally guilty I hadn't found out earlier. I hadn't thought much about him for more than twenty years, but he made a big difference to me as a child.

Some context is needed, for those who may not know who Godfrey was. Martyn Godfrey was born in Birmingham, England in 1949. He moved to Canada at the age of eight, worked as a teacher, and had a successful career writing childrens' books, largely fantasy and science fiction. In 1989, he was the Edmonton Public Library’s writer-in-residence.

Old Strathcona branch of the Edmonton Public Library.
Source: Wikipedia

Godfrey passed away in 2000. He was only fifty-one years old; he would be sixty-six now. He left us tragically young, but he gave joy and inspiration to a great many people. A copy of his eulogy is here.

The eulogy mentions the dedication in Godfrey's book The Last War, and just that dedication line brought a lot of the story back to me. Most of all though, I remember Godfrey not for anything he wrote, but for something he did.

Cute Cat Friday 2016-01-01: The Year of Four Cats

Ancient Rome had the Year of Four Emperors; this was our Year of Four Cats.

Only Belle was with us at both start and end of 2015; but fervently knocking wood, we hope Joni will be a keeper. The other two of course were the late and much missed Dexter, who passed away in May; and Freddie, who we adopted and kept for two months, but had to send back when he proved too aggressive towards Belle.

Top row: Dexter, Belle. Bottom row: Freddie, Joni. Click for larger versions.

Belle and Joni are gradually growing more tolerant of each other; not yet hanging out in the same room, but we have high hopes of getting there soon.

Incidentally, my new favourite Wikipedia disclaimer is, "not to be confused with the Year of Five Emperors or the Year of Six Emperors".

Cinema Year in Review: 2015

As predicted, looking after a new baby has drastically reduced my cinema-going. I saw ten films in the cinema this year, and thought I was doing well to manage that.

The Plaza Cinema, Skipton. A great little place we discovered this year.

Given the limited opportunity, I did my best to choose films carefully, and there have been some excellent releases this year. So, I'm going to do my usual breakdown anyway. For the sake of completeness, I'll do a top seven instead of a top five, so everything I saw gets a mention.

The Pride of Chicken Soup

It's odd that I've never blogged much about food, because I really like cooking. It's enjoyable and satisfying. I find it relaxing, given that my day job in software engineering is very abstract; it's a pleasant change of pace to work with something I can touch and taste. Last but not least, cooking for others has a primal importance. We all need food to live. Preparing food for others is giving a tiny bit of life.

After a lot of practice, I'm a pretty competent amateur cook. I can confidently make Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings for eight or ten people, and it's very tasty if I say so myself. Boxing Day was the most proud I've ever been of my cooking skills, and all I made was a simple pot of chicken soup.

Chicken noodle soup: Not mine, but similar.
Source: Wikipedia

My son Zach had his first birthday on Christmas Eve. He's a wonderful, happy, active baby, but unfortunately he's got his first major cold right now. It's just a cold, nothing unusual, but he doesn't understand what's happening. He's uncomfortable, unhappy, and his nose is blocked up, which interferes with smelling, chewing and swallowing.

Zach was refusing all food aside from fruit purée, which was something but not what I'd call a balanced diet. Normally he loves baby oatmeal porridge, but not then, and processed baby food from jars was rejected on sight.

So I spent a couple of hours making soup out of the leftover roast chicken we had on Christmas Eve, with some leeks, carrots, herbs and thin pasta noodles, and zapped it in the blender until it was smooth. Our uncomfortable, cranky baby ate up a huge bowl of it, by his standards. Afterwards he snuggled in my arms with his head on my shoulder, tired but contented.

It's only a cold, and I expect he would have eaten something else when he got hungry enough, but it didn't come to that. It was a beautiful warm feeling to help Zach in this way. (It has occurred to me that maybe breastfeeding mothers feel something like this, all the time.).

The next day, because the gods have a sense of humour (and so does Zach), he was refusing chicken soup and back onto porridge. But at the time, it was just exactly what he needed. He still has a cold but he's looking better now.

Happy birthday, young man. I don't know what you will do when you grow up, but I believe you'll never be too old for your dad to make you a bowl of chicken soup.