Tag Archives: photography

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Caught in the act

This is the first time I have managed to photograph one of the cats doing “Cat Art”. Sol Duc. I have two bowls for the cats, with a smaller bowl inside a water barrier bowl. I shut the door between the two when I feed them, because Elwha will eat all his and then bully Sol Duc. He outweighs her by five pounds. When I started limiting their food, they started decorating Elwha’s bowl. With toys. There are often toy mice, that pair of in ear headphones that I’ve given up on, a sponge, tissue paper when they can get it, as many as four different things in the bowls. I have to wash the outer bowl and toys often.

Is this play? It started when Elwha was overweight and I started measuring their food. All of my other cats have been self-regulating about food, but Elwha and Sol Duc were very starved tiny kittens when I got them and Elwha is the first male cat I’ve ever had. Art? Trying to trade toys for more food? I tried reading about it and found that cats will bury their food. Sometimes the art shows up when the bowl is not empty.

This is the first one with tissue paper:

This was the first use of a sponge:

I think this is a particularly fine installation and sophisticated use of tissue paper as well as the toy creature, headphones, and the combination flashlight/whistle.

I hope it is play. It certainly entertains me. I wondered which cat was doing it but I think it is both. It is almost always Elwha’s bowl, though, not Sol Ducs. The mysterious plays of cats.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: play.

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Post Covid Sartorial Splendor

I dressed up in November for the Chamber of Commerce masquerade. This is a 1920s dress and I had to repair the lace around both arm openings. The underdress is rust colored silk and is beaded. The overdress is lace with the beaded and fringed flower with a tassel on the side. The lace is definitely see through and I wore a slip. The silk underdress has beaded squared off tags that hang outside the lace, which is a detail I haven’t seen before. I do not remember where I got this, second hand.

When the silk is nearly 100 years old, it wants to fall apart. I took a second dress just in case there was dancing. If I danced in this dress, it would probably disintegrate.

In other news, here is an article about the Post Covid exercise intolerance. It is a small sample size, but they biopsied skin and muscle in people who were still exercise intolerant one year out from Covid 19. These people all had Covid-19 in 2020, so unimmunized.

https://actaneurocomms.biomedcentral.com/articles/10.1186/s40478-023-01662-2

“Compared to two independent historical control cohorts, patients with post-COVID exertion intolerance had fewer capillaries, thicker capillary basement membranes and increased numbers of CD169+ macrophages. SARS-CoV-2 RNA could not be detected in the muscle tissues. In addition, complement system related proteins were more abundant in the serum of patients with PCS, matching observations on the transcriptomic level in the muscle tissue. We hypothesize that the initial viral infection may have caused immune-mediated structural changes of the microvasculature, potentially explaining the exercise-dependent fatigue and muscle pain.”

This is a big deal. More needs to be done to confirm this, but a talk earlier this year said that the muscles don’t get adequate blood flow and get hypoxic and that the fatigue is recovery afterwards, taking 1-3 days. That is the best hypothesis for why people have the activity “crashes” after exercise or doing a little bit more than usual. My chronic fatigue shuts my fast twitch muscles down when I have pneumonia. This time it was two years before I got them back and I still have to be careful. It’s weird when they won’t work. It’s like the muscles go on strike. They didn’t really hurt (ok, they burned like strep throat all over the two times I had systemic strep A) but it’s more like the muscles are screaming NO NO NO NO! at the brain. It is hard to describe. If I tried to push, it felt like dying. Perhaps the muscle cells really DO start dying if we push them too hard. Mine is annoying but it doesn’t confine me to bed. My slow twitch muscles were fine though this time I needed oxygen. I hope not to experience it again.

This is the mask I wore. Nice to be in a different sort of mask, but I masked at a concert last night and will mask for travel with an N95.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: sartorial choices.

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Slack tide

Slack tide is the time when the tide is not going out nor coming in. When it stops. It doesn’t mean the water is quiet because there is still wind and weather. But sometimes it is quiet, as if the ocean is holding its breath.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: slack.

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Unexpected

I have had some unexpected things the last two weeks. A friend whose cancer has escalated and I’ve been taking her to appointments and to the store. Home health is now helping and I am very glad. Two others need some help as well.

But I am still going to some live music and enjoying it very much. I took photographs of the Wild Rose Chorale downtown and gave them copies. They are using them on Facebook and have a concert tonight. If nothing else comes up, I will go.

I am within 7 questions of finishing my three years of CME for the American Board of Family Medicine. I did most of the three years this year, because I was too sick from Covid the first year and had trouble caring the second. Now I am catching up and hope to finish today.

The job hunt is ongoing. Part time is unpopular with clinics. I understand that, but after four pneumonias resulting in not too horrible chronic fatigue, I can’t do full time. Something will turn up.

Life is complicated and beautiful, isn’t it? The photograph is the city tree downtown, ready for lighting a week ago.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: zest.

My parents had a different final verse:

The cherry tree bowed its branches down low to the ground
And Mary gathered cherries while Joseph stood around

I have read and heard other versions as well.