As an update to my previous post regarding an evaluation of my blog, my blogging, my blogroll, and my general online habits, allow me to expand a bit on what I intend to do in this area now that I’ve had time to mull over it.

The blogroll has thinned.  While there may be more entries removed, most of what’s there will probably remain.  For now.  I’m rather capricious with blogrolling, what with random changes in taste and interest, so as I’ve said repeatedly: “My blogroll is always in flux.  I add and remove items on an ongoing basis.  As my mood and interests change, so too does my blogroll.”

Also available at that link is an updated blogroll policy.  I stand by it.  I read blogs via RSS.  Those who cripple syndication feeds, no matter the reason, fail the test for me.  Disabled or minimized image presentation, post synopses only, and several other pet peeves will inhibit inclusion, and that even if I love what you do.  The web has changed and having to visit a site daily to get the full content is soooo yesterday.  It also robs me of precious time I can spend on more important endeavors.

On the question of my own blogging and blog, both will remain, although the former will experience a dramatic shift away from perpetual content overload to a more leisurely approach focused on quality.  What does that mean?

It’s all rather simple.  To date, I’ve felt compelled to offer something every other day, if not every day.  That included a self-imposed requirement to proffer photographs almost as often as I proffered text.

No more.

Here’s how things will work.  While I’m not penning a rigid schedule for such matters, I am releasing myself from the rigid schedule to which I’ve been tied for so long.  From now on, I’ll write when I feel I have something to say.  That means no insignificant updates about insignificant things, or even updates to say I’m too busy to offer an update.

It also means content will matter more than it might have in the past.  Rather than blathering ad nauseam about twaddle, I want to focus on meaningful content.  That includes updates about The Kids, creative writing, personal views and experiences, and whatnot.  While all that may sound terribly familiar, I hope it’s the quantity and quality that will change.

I still intend to utilize the forum to keep friends and family abreast of goings on.  Those entries, however, will be carefully chosen so as to remain in keeping with the new spirit of this blog. . .or at least my updated view of blogging.  Or whatever.

The major change will be the frequency of posts, I’m sure.  Multiple posts in a single day no doubt will be few and far between (although not extinct).  Daily or every-other-day posting likewise will become less frequent.  Those two changes alone I hope will aid in making what is posted better and more meaningful (cranking out content caused me to rush more often than I care to admit, and that diminished the quality of what I was doing).

As for pictures, you can continue expecting them regularly.  I am by no means a professional photographer, but oh how I love to capture images at every opportunity.  Sharing them here is a joy for me, an opportunity to let you see the world through my eyes (and the camera’s lens, by the way, since the two can differ dramatically!).  While there are times when I’m not particularly happy with an image, but I still post it because I want you to see something, I doubt much will change about what photographs I post.  I have to work with what I have, and what I have is what I took.  It’s that simple.

None of this will change my responsiveness to comments.  I receive comment notifications via e-mail (even for those shunted to the moderation queue).  As has always been the case, I will respond to comments as quickly as I can if I feel a response is appropriate.  Sometimes I think a comment stands so well on its own that I would sully it with a gratuitous answer; for all others, I will respond independent of whether or not I’m posting to the blog on that particular day.

Perhaps none of this really matters to anyone but me.  Perhaps those who subscribe to this site’s feed and visit it regularly do so because something draws them here other than the particulars of what I think about what goes on here.  Perhaps those who comment do so because a sincere connection is found, whether via a single post or the whole of this blog, and speaking up means more than tossing a bone to a blogger.  Perhaps. . .

As I’ve said so many times before, I blog because I journal, and I journal because writing is not only a career hope, but it’s also a catharsis.  Photography is a passion despite my lack of expertise.  Sharing both via xenogere offers me profound joy and liberation.  Feedback is not mandatory as the very act of creation satisfies me to no end, although feedback does engender a great deal of passion and, dare I say, a bit of encouragement and community.

Ultimately, my passion for what happens here will likely ensure this blog stays around for a while. . .even if I’m the only one benefiting from it.  As for this new approach, I hope it provides more value to the casual visitor, less clutter for the regulars, and something more than “just another blog” to the world as a whole.

Only time will tell.

[taken at the family farm near one of the many springs that litter the area]

I’m on call this week.  Yes, that’s quite soon following my last stint in this hellish place, my last encounter with this unrelenting burden.  Believe me, no one appreciates that curse more than I.

Keep that in mind should posting seem a bit thin.

But also consider something else.

I’ve said time and again that I need to cut back on blogging so I can focus on more important things, such as The Kids, family and friends, my novels, my quest to relocate, enjoying nature, and photography, not to mention a hundred other things.

Well, the time has come.

Throughout this week I shall endeavor to thin the heard of blogs I read.  That by no means casts a negative light on those who fall by the wayside, but it does mean they simply didn’t stand the test of community and consequence which must now be applied to my commitments.  In truth, those I let go of simply don’t weigh as much as those I keep.

And doing so will lighten my load significantly.

The next several days will also provide ample time for me to evaluate and solidify a rigid approach to my own blog.  Because I must have time to complete Dreamdarkers so I can move on to End of the Warm Season, Centralia, The Breaking of Worlds, and the growing remainder of my novelist endeavors, and because I dare not give up my offline journaling given its lifelong cathartic liberation, blogging must suffer a digital RIF if I have any hope of succeeding in my search for writing success.

None of that compares to the newfound burden I carry with integrating Larenti with the rest of The Kids.  Each of them will require more of my time and affection to make the growing pain less severe.  Each of them deserves my unmitigated love and attention if I am to provide them all they deserve, a life full of compassion and safety, a peaceful home, the devotion of a father who wishes to provide them with an existence that is rich, full, rare.  If we believe ourselves worthy of such things, why then should I not consider them worthy?  For they are.

I can’t tell you now what the future will hold.  While I do have a firm grip on many of the changes I intend to make, I don’t want to blather ad nauseam about them until I can offer a sound, definitive plan.  Expect that in short order.

Ultimately, however, the goal is simple: Make it matter.

Make life matter.

Make goals matter.

Make blogging matter.

Make it all matter.

Stay tuned for updates.  I promise no extreme changes that will alienate anyone who reads my mental discharge on a regular basis.  I do promise to lighten the load, both yours and mine, and to focus on what I see as the most important pieces of this experiment.

[you can thank Theriomorph for helping me feel the power necessary to finally do what needed to be done; I strongly suggest you read that post from her; it's a "Dear John" letter, yes, and one I should have written long ago; kudos to her for having the strength to face withdrawal so publicly and valiantly; I only hope I can follow her lead]

What terrifies you so, Larenti?

No hiss.  Never.  Not once in all your recent ordeals.

Fear?  Yes.  Blatant and brutal, it drips from your eyes like tears in those moments I’ve barely started to predict.

Medication.  I coax you from your box and lure you into a false sense of security, and I feel wretched for it, yet the deed must be done.

As you rest against me purring, a rumble that soars through me for what I’ve accomplished since we met, I finally reach down and take you in my hands.

Then comes the fear.  A horrible fear.  A terror so real I can feel it oozing over my hands where they meet your body.

You look at me.  Eyes are wide.  A depth of fright I care never to see again greets me as I look at you face to face.

Then the tears come.

What I intend is help, not harm.  What I will do brings you no pain, only aid.

Yet I weep.

Somewhere in the past only you know, someone only you would recognize did unspeakable things to you.  It’s written all over your face as I dab a bit of medicine between your shoulders.

Petrified.  You feel like stiffened wood nestled between my knees.  Even when I release you, your breath remains unheard and your essence rigid.  You don’t move.

What unconscionable being did this to you?  What poor excuse for a human forced in you this unbeatable fear of us, of we simple apes?

What did they do to you?

Vision blurred by my own lamentation, I see your still form held close to the ground, held stoically until it seems you no longer live.

It takes my gentle prodding to get you to move.

And then?

You race to your box, cower in its furthest corner despite how uncomfortable it makes you, and your wide eyes look at me with a trembling I dare not speak.

In time you will learn you have nothing to fear from me.

In time I will learn not to hate those who did this to you, learn not to wish for their wicked lives to end horribly, painfully, with much suffering and anguish. . .at my hands.

I joked about not wanting to be called The Cat Lady since I live with six felines.  But you know what?  The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why that thought crossed my mind.

In the U.S., households with cats nearly equal the number of households with dogs (36% and 39% respectively).

The number of cats sharing a home with humans vastly outnumbers dogs living with humans (by more than 25 million).

If someone mentions they have four, five, or six dogs, no one blinks.

If someone mentions they have four, five, or six cats, suddenly they’re “The Cat Lady.”

Why is that?

It’s a stupid cultural thing.

We subdued and domesticated dogs.  They didn’t even choose to live with us.  Our relationship with them is based solely on subjugation and manipulation, our desire to take the most friendly wolves we could find and change them from what nature made to what we scrambled together through applied force and superiority.

On the other hand, cats chose to be with us.  They represent our only mutual relationship with another animal that’s not of our making, one where an animal allied itself with us millennia ago of its own volition.  To this day, this fact can be seen in how cats relate to us, how they react to us, how they treat us.  Being that they’re here because they chose to be here, they owe us nothing and they feel no inferiority in our presence.

Why then do you suppose are people with cats treated so differently than those with dogs?

Could it be that felines challenge our view of who’s in charge?  Could it be that we don’t like not being in control of the relationship, one that has lasted thousands of years only because the cats chose to create a form of community with us by their free will, not ours?  Could it be that the majority of us are challenged by cats because they represent a joining of two species that we didn’t create?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized I couldn’t possibly care less why there exists a certain human-induced disdain for those living with cats, why anyone with more than one or two cats is derided, deprecated, and disparaged.

Such are the ways of the small minds, after all.  Such are the ways of the weak and ignorant.

I’d rather share my home with a thousand felines who chose to live with humans than live with a single human who’d rather manipulate life to make it a pet.  After all, dogs are pack animals who need to be in charge or need to be ruled.  Cats, on the other hand, are independent and choose who they want to live with.

There’s a big difference.

So let me be owned by a cat rather than owning a dog.  And let me called whatever shallow names the obtuse wish to employ.

At least I know my home is filled by those who wanted to be with us rather than those forced into servitude.

I’ve begun work on Larenti’s page (it’s blank at the moment), making the site changes necessary to move his posts, photos, and videos into the various “The Kids” categories, making the content edits in response to a definitive finding on his gender, adding him to the “The Kids” section in the sidebar and the The Kids page, and all the other site modifications necessary for his recent addition to our home.

Meanwhile, I’m also doing laundry, washing dishes, vacuuming, dusting, taking out the garbage, spending time with all of The Kids, trying to fix a major registry problem on one of my computers, finding something for lunch, researching a replacement video card for the main home server, and a litany of other tasks.

Since I’ve been running like a fool and have yet to stop and rest, let me offer you these photos of the autumnal kitty.  Taken last Tuesday as the sun set on yet another unseasonably warm day, he and I enjoyed letting the rays blanket us from low on the southwestern horizon while a southerly zephyr caressed us.  The very next day our arctic friend moved into town, after which Larenti moved into the cat carrier.  The rest is history.

Anyway, I rather like the way these images turned out and felt them a marvelous way to mark Larenti’s last day outside on his own.

Several things about Larenti that have developed in the last few days.

(1) ‘She’ is a ‘he.’  I’ll have you know it took shaving a good deal of his derrière to find the necessary bits to determine this.  Even the vet said there was much confusion and betting on the outcome as more and more hair was cut away.  Ultimately, however, his gender is now known with certainty.

Although I based my original hypothesis on his standoffish behavior, I grew to realize that stemmed from his distrust of people in general.  Nevertheless, I’d already spent some time referring to him as her and saw no reason to change that without proof.  Now the verdict is in.

I’ll go back and change all the personal pronouns and other gender references as time permits.

I’m not changing his name based on this information.  I think Larenti is a perfectly gender-independent moniker.

(2) He’s been inside since yesterday.  Quarantined, yes, but inside nonetheless.  All it took was a bit of cold air.

(3) We just returned from the veterinary clinic.  He’s now up to date on his vaccinations.  His general health is good, although there are a few minor issues to be dealt with before introducing him to the rest of the household.

For example, we need to give him flea treatment as there were some tapeworms found.  Neither fleas nor tapeworms are serious issues, you realize, yet both have been and will be dealt with (a shot to wipe out existing tapeworms and flea treatment to stop the threat of tapeworms. . .and fleas, of course).

Also, he has a wee bit of a yeast infection in his ears.  We now have ear drops to remedy that insignificant concern.

He’ll remain quarantined for two weeks as we allow the various treatments to work.

(4) He’s approximately 4-5 years old.  A young lad.

I never suspected him to be senior or geriatric.

(5) He purred the whole time he received his shots and exam, nestled against me like a warm engine looking to me for safety.  That made me feel like a million bucks.

There was some stress during the buttocks shaving, yes, but would you react any differently if de-haired in the nether regions by perfect strangers?  I think not.

(6) Not once did he cry during the trip to or from the vet.

(7) I’ll post some new photos of him tomorrow if any of them turn out.  I’m not exactly catching him at his best.

(8) He’s tired, stressed, worried.  My focus remains on ensuring he finds this place safe, the company loving and accepting.

(9) His “about The Kids” page will be built in short order.  Likewise, I’ll add him to the various categories, add his likeness to the thumbnail links in the sidebar, and generally tend to all the blog matters surrounding membership in this exclusive club.

(10) I have no concerns for his integration with the rest of The Kids.  He already knows Vazra.  He’s now met Grendel and Kazon without incident.

Given his propensity for wanting to hang out with other cats, not to mention his habit of sitting at the patio windows and “talking” to the Kids, I never thought it a concern.  There will be tribulations just as there were with Vazra; none of these have been major or worrisome.  I expect the same with Larenti.

(11) He weighs more than 18 pounds (8 kilograms).  I believe I’ve mentioned before that he’s a large cat.

In physical size, he’s approximately as long and as tall as Kazon, but his longer hair makes exact matches a bit difficult.

(12) I need to have him shaved to get rid of some knots.  After that, regular brushing with the rest of The Kids will see to it that such afflictions don’t revisit him.

(13) You may NOT call me The Cat Lady.

(14) There will be no further additions to The Kids.  Not for a while, at least, and not while living where I live and on the pittance my employer pays me.

Too many cats in a small space causes stress.  Stress is a cat’s worst enemy.

I already spend a great deal of money on these felines. . .more than you can realize given various health issues.  Any more would easily bankrupt me.

That’s not to say I’ll stop feeding the locals; it is to say I won’t be rescuing any more.

(15) Call this a god complex all you want, what with taking a cat from its life on the streets and in the wild, tending to its health, ensuring it has a loving home where it can live a long and fruitful life full of affection and company.  Call it selfish to interrupt a life in such a way, to take it from what it knows and introduce it to a new life that is alien.

I don’t care.

Vazra would have died in no more than a year had I not “interfered” in his life as I did.  Now he’s so healthy that he doesn’t even look his age.  The horrific, skin-ripping knots in his fur are a thing of the past.  He’s put on weight such that he’s now normal.  He’s so happy he could just spit.  He follows me like a puppy, talks to me incessantly, plays with the other cats, enjoys a life of leisure and no want. . .

But remember I had the same god complex when I snatched him from the lake and gave him a home.

Now, you’ll pardon me if I tend to some business, such as cleaning cat boxes, visiting with Larenti so he knows he’s okay, in a safe place, and giving the rest of The Kids the time and attention they need and deserve.

Yesterday: A high of 72°F (22°C), mostly sunny, humid.

Today: Snow, sleet, and cold rain, a brisk, biting north wind, and cool temperatures struggling to get above 40°F (4°C).

This weekend: More of the same with a higher chance of precipitation, and possibly temperatures reaching a few degrees higher than they have been today.

Welcome to Texas.

I’ve implemented a new drop shadow style for images on the site.  While I really like it and think it’s something I’ll use for quite a while, it does require a minor change to all image posts in order to make it work.

Oh well.

Luckily the changes aren’t extensive, and I doubt they’ll hurt future image styles since they’re so minor.  ‘Doubt’ being the operative term since CSS modifications with inline style data can have very dramatic and unintended conflicts.

The flip side of the coin is that Internet Exploder does not render the shadow properly.  No surprise there.  While Netscape, Safari, Opera, Mozilla, Lynx, Konqueror, and Firefox show it perfectly, IE extends the bottom and chops off the dithered corners.

I’m pondering whether I want to implement an IE hack to compensate for this or if I want to leave it as is.  If people continue using a sub par browser that has never been able to render standards-compliant code, fine by me.  I just don’t think I should have to expend the extra energy constantly writing workarounds specific to that browser simply to make it display a page halfway right.

I’ll give it more thought, but don’t hold your breath.  As far as I’m concerned, people can suffer through a crippled web experience if they aren’t willing to get a real browser.

A blustery, significant cold front moved through North Texas today.  It carried with it the threat of wintry precipitation and the season’s first freeze, albeit these things might well never visit us here in the metroplex. . .  Or will they?

Anyway, the point is not the weather; it’s Larenti.

For the first time since I started leaving it on the patio a few months ago, I found her just now resting comfortably in the cat carrier.  The one I hope to use to rescue (trap?) her in when the time comes to help her escape her life on the streets.

I can’t claim she’s never been inside it before.  I’m not home 24/7, you know.

But she’s in it now.

In it with a warm towel to curl up in to stay warm.  In it where the gusty wind is held at bay.  In it where safety is a commodity to be measured rather than to be hoped for.

She’s in it.

That’s what I know, what I see.

Capturing her is a breath away, a hair from my body when I step outside.

Perhaps tonight, perhaps tomorrow, but she’ll soon be in my grasp.

Then it’s off to the vet for tests, vaccinations, examinations.

Her trip from the outside world to an inside existence of pure love and protection is a wink away from reality.

Wow!  I’d considered but never assumed a bit of cold air could push the process forward so rapidly.

Yet here we are.