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[Sep. 7th, 2010|09:57 pm] |
And this is Violet, Jasmine's sister. We think she's a lilac lynx point, but her markings are still so light that we're not sure. She might be a tortie point. We'll just have to find out when she's older and her markings darken!
It was pretty hard choosing Jasmine and leaving her sister behind at the humane society. The first night we had Jasmine, I couldn't stop thinking about her sister, all alone in that cage with the dogs barking in the other room. Evidently the guilt got to the whole household, because now here she is, reunited with her sister.
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[Sep. 6th, 2010|08:06 pm] |
Jasmine is our 3-month-old chocolate-point siamese girl. We rescued her from the Larimer County Humane Society on Sunday. I've been keeping an obsessive eye on pretty much every humane society and cat rescue within 100 miles for the last month or so -- or, really, since we got back from Oregon. Saturday, the household finally decided, okay, let's keep an eye out for a kitten. (Not just any kitten, though, but a female siamese with either chocolate or seal point markings between the age of 8 weeks and 12. Specific much?) Sunday, bam! The first siamese kitten I've yet to see at LCHS shows up. Talk about timing, right?
According to the humane society, she was undersocialized. In fact, they were ready to send her back to a foster home. When we visited with her, she was very skittish -- nervous enough that she was jumping at the wall in some vague hope of escape. She didn't want us to hold her or come near her, but having read that siamese don't cope well with the shelter environment, we decided to give her a chance anyway. Within eight hours of being home, she was cuddling with us, falling asleep on our necks, bouncing around and purring up a storm.
So there you go. New cat. |
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| Food, food, more food. |
[Jun. 27th, 2010|06:56 pm] |
I'm going to convert my LiveJournal into one long ramble about food, I swear. Because I eat food and then I'm like 'my god I must talk about this food!' and now here we are. When I talk about food, bear in mind that I grew up on, like, meatloaf and . . . yeah, that's the only thing that jumps to mind. (Other things than meatloaf, I swear.) So I may get excited about foods that are very ho-hum to you and yours.
Tonight I grilled! I had nothing to do with the chicken, grilled meat is very arcane to me. It was seasoned with something plus something else plus something else. But then, in addition to the chicken, I put together aluminum foil packets of the following: onions, crimini mushrooms and red peppers (+ olive oil + butter + slivers of garlic + salt + pepper), cherub tomatoes (+ olive oil + salt + pepper + basil), and potatoes (+ olive oil + salt + pepper + garlic + paprika).
And it all came together into one big meal of roasty goodness, obviously tasty enough that I needed to immediately tell the entire world about it. (As if, families across the United States do not do this and enjoy roasty goodness every day in the summer.) |
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[May. 18th, 2010|03:13 pm] |
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This afternoon my cat passed away. I told myself that I would write all these things about her when she died. I have so many memories. Mia was with our family since I was in the second grade. But now that it comes to it I find I have very little to write at all. |
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[May. 15th, 2010|02:58 pm] |
Only because Erin demanded I post something new . . .
Today I'm graduating -- with distinction -- from Colorado State University. So, yeah. College! Job well done. |
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[Nov. 9th, 2008|09:14 pm] |
You'd think in light of these results that I would've been better at my classical Greek language classes.
Shelly Dunlop's Dewey Decimal Section:
880 Hellenic literatures; classical Greek
Shelly Dunlop = 985225414256 = 985+225+414+256 = 1880
Class:
800 Literature
Contains:
Literature, criticism, analysis of classic writing and mythology.
What it says about you:
You're a global, worldly person who wants to make a big impact with your actions. You have a lot to tell people and you're good at making unique observations about everyday experiences. You can notice and remember details that other people think aren't important.
Find your Dewey Decimal Section at Spacefem.com
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[Jul. 18th, 2007|07:36 pm] |
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I have a dent in my leg. I don't know how I went so long without noticing this dent or when it formed, but it is distinctly and undeniable a dent. This is my new conversation piece, "So uh, hey ... can you see the dent in my leg?!" "Wow Shelly, that's some dent!" Followed shortly by, "Feel it, come on, feel my dent. Isn't it weeeirrd?" |
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[May. 19th, 2007|02:36 pm] |
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Today, I got Guitar Hero II and a wireless guitar controller. At last, I am ready to become a guitar hero. Once again, I will . . . probably . . . actually, I doubt I'll be able to wrench myself away from Okami. The flowers are so PRETTY. |
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| Largely for Ed's amusement. |
[Mar. 27th, 2007|12:11 am] |
Remember . . . Gaia? You don't want to but I'm sure you do. (I don't want to either.) I was bored in class one day and I jotted this down in my notebook. It's the retold (and infinitely shortened) creation story from that little, wonderful, /charming/ adventure.
In the beginning, Miala wove the world. Only, it was not the beginning. Her mother, and her grandmother, and her great grandmother had all woven worlds before her. In every generation, there was a weaver, and in every generation, a new world. Each weaver dreamed and wove and unraveled her world. And, each weaver had a daughter.
Miala's mother had been a sad woman with a world full of oceans and war. When she wove her world, she did not mean it to be a cold world, or a hard one, but it was so much a part of her that her sorrow was its sorrow and she hated it. Like every weaver, she destroyed her world. Picking it apart, she gave the good threads to Miala, and took the bad ones with her and died.
Miala found her own threads, too--tangles and tangles of life. She went from god to god, asking for plants and animals and feelings and ideas. She made herself an abyss and filled it with stars. Everything she didn't want, and didn't understand, she flung into the stars. What remained, she wove: red threads, green threads, yellow threads, blue ones. And when she had finished the world, she wove herself into it, too. |
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