(no subject)

[blamebrampton]

There's nothing quite so much fun as a good rant, is there? I think I will have a positive rant in the near future to balance things out. In the meantime, a few short notes.

Nothing quite says 'You have procrastinated too long in the finishing of this fic' like reading through earlier chapters and saying 'Gosh. Really? Oh I like that bit, I wonder what it means?'

I recently paid a pittance for an account so that I could post Sansa's birthday image. I have just realised that I can post other pictures. Thus I give you

KITTEN OWNERSHIP, THE DREAM ...

THE REALITY ...



Cookie is the adult black cat, Monster is the tortiseshell kitten. And yes, she does have laser eyes, very handy for drawing straight lines in the dark. That tube has three arms and a central hole and is possibly the Greatest Cat Invention Ever. Alas it was a catfood company freebie constructed of cheap nylon and is falling apart. This means I will have to rebuild it, I foresee over-engineering and procrastination. Perhaps embroidery ...

They are both adorable wee things and brighten our days, despite the fact that there is still a palpable Min-cat absence. Mon likes to sleep on one's head, because you may have wanted to wear a fur hat to bed but not wanted hat hair in the morning. She is also obsessed with water, to the point of jumping into the shower and having a good paddle between our legs. Any running water is like a Siren singing and she has been known to sit in the basin in hopes of a sudden need for handwashing.

When she was very new J was in the loo and I could hear him laughing uproariously. When he came out, I asked why. His words: "You should be very proud of me, I wazzed on neither the floor nor the cat."

Her other great trick is the shoulder cuddle, where she will nestle on one shoulder and nuzzle into your neck and hair, purring madly. This would be wholly delightful, were she not a slightly farty kitten.

Cookie is calmly in charge, and pretends to be a delicate wee princess (she now weighs over 3kg as opposed to the 2kg she was when we liberated her from the pound). This image is maintained until Monster walks by below any of her perches, when she transforms into Death From Above. She is incredibly fluffy now, and Mon is a lot bigger, but alas they broke my camera in a Loeb vs Solberg-style rally round of the living room and I have not replaced it yet.

So I am in the market for a new camera. It needs to take pictures of cats, embroideries and textiles in museums, cities, sport, and my friends. Perhaps the odd plant. It needs a good optical zoom and high megapixelage, with a good range of automatic settings and manual overrides. It MUST be able to take good shots in low light conditions, and preferably have excellent textural representation, that matched with accurate colour would be ideal. Above all, it needs to be usable by a moron. I do eventually read the manuals, but can never remember them. I have the photographic talent of a fern. Short video capture would also be good.

At the moment I am looking at the Canon G9, since it comes in around my price point (under $800/£400) and my old camera was a Canon Powershot so I should have some familiarity with the interface. Also, anabellhenry uses one for her gorgeous flower shots, which I adore, so it clearly does a good job. Any suggestions/warnings?

Comments

[blamebrampton.livejournal.com]

That is brilliant! I would love to hear Amelia bark. I think the teaching honours do sound evenly split; and both beneficial to you, which is handy.

And yes, if nothing else, I can't sit around being miserable when I am being jumped on by Emo Kitty and the Goth Fluff as they were last night.

[kestrelsparhawk.livejournal.com]

The bark is actually sort of a quack, but it was easy to figure out since she also was growling and beating on the window. I didn't know about this until I stayed home days -- at first it was all three of them (2 dogs, 1 cat) yelling at the mail carrier in the driveway.

I believe in the communicating power of cats and dogs. Our 2nd dog, a stray, came with terrible habits (NO housetraining, ran away and dared us to chase her, etc.) and our dog yelled at her for running away once (across the street) and she ceased to do it. Amazing. The first six months, Rena used to bark when Lucy had to go out and pee, till Lucy had learned to tell us.... oh, I miss them, especially Rena.

Yes, the distraction alone helps. Your pix made me want to go borrow somebody's kitten. ;)

[blamebrampton.livejournal.com]

Well, most pounds have volunteer kitten patting days or hours when people can come in and play with the cats to socialise them, so you could see if there is one near you that does, then combine kitten time with social good!

Our farm dogs used to train each other, and the first thing they taught puppes and new dogs was which cat to avoid. Our giant cat Rocky (who was about 25lb of pure muscle and stood at the size of a medium dog. My Dad once ran him over, Rocky recovered, and ever after would raze my father's leg with his claws when he walked nearby, despite being gentle as a lamb with all other humans) was the head cat for many years and would run the farmyard as he saw fit. This also involved taking generations of new cats down to the village once a month to torture other local dogs. It must be thirty years since he died, but my grandparents still have cats that know these things are important to do. I pity the village dogs ...

[kestrelsparhawk.livejournal.com]

LOL! My big boy is 20 pounds, but we're working on getting it down to 14 -- and it's DEFINITELY not muscle! Rocky sounds like a terror... and presumably left his genetic imprint to encourage the "education". I once had a cat who liked to chase dogs. I thought that if there were a Darwin Award for cats, Tommy would qualify. But getting a gang together -- I'm truly impressed.

Love reminiscing about pets. And loving them.

[blamebrampton.livejournal.com]

I think that some of those rumours of rogue panthers roaming SE England in the 70s could have been that cat ...

Ginger, one of Rocky's proteges, was the main terror of the village dogs. He would even hitch a ride in and out of the village with the post, the grocer and sundry farmworkers. He had a route around the village that took him past every yappy dog, and up every safe getaway, it was a thing of beauty to behold.

I do love the sound of your duck cat! Min had a little quack she would do, perhaps she learned it from a dog, too.