Friday Follies - Well Excuse Me!

An accurate depiction

Flatulence.  A common 'butt' (excuse the pun) of juvenile jokes, and, I'm afraid, a constant source of entertainment for some.  If you smelt it you dealt it, and silent but deadly are standard phrases used in our childhood (and adulthood for some).
The subject of today's blog was inspired by my recent incidence at the vets with my dog, Chamois.  She's such a lady.  And loud, very loud.

Actor-dog portraying Chamois

We all do it, and some are prouder than others.  Animals don't have any of the inhibitions or hang ups that we do, and embrace their bodily function with aplomb.  I include men in the animals category in this case. 

The word fart was derived from an Old English word 'feortan' ('to break wind') and the word was used in 1632 and defined as 'to send forth wind from the anus'.  There is some knowledge you never knew you needed!  The ancient Japanese even used to hold contests to see who could fluff for the longest and the loudest, so not every culture thought this function as crude as we do today.

Don't do it....



If you do a Google search, you will discover that there are hundreds of website dedicated to interesting fart facts.  Clearly we have an obsession. 

Here are some interesting facts - some you may already know, some may be an interesting surprise to you (like a fart is sometimes!).

1.  You can produce enough farts every day to fill up a balloon, should you so wish.  There is actually a device called a rectal catheter for this exact purpose - to measure that an average person can pass one to four pints of gas in 13-21 farts per day.  Personally, I think my husband is a high achiever, and I'm sure he's proud of it.

2.  Only 1 percent of this amount of gas smells.  I would like to argue this particular fact based on my personal experience of living with two extra-large dogs and a husband, but some scientist spent time studying this, so I'll have to accept it.  Your particular emissions are like a fingerprint and composed of carbon dioxide, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen, and the much-maligned methane.  It's pretty common for us to believe that our flatulence is not as odoriferous as everyone else's, but that is only because we become habituated to our own personal perfume. The actual gas that makes the escaped wind smell is hydrogen sulphide.  Researchers have found that sniffing tiny amounts of this gas can reverse mitochondrial damage and help avert strokes, dementia, cancer and heart attacks.  I debated whether I should include this little tidbit or not, as I fear it will be used against me in the future.  If I live to 105 years old, you'll know what happened.

3.  Your fart can exit your body at 10 feet per second.  Yes, someone measured it and was lucky enough to put that in their job description.  I wish my internet was that fast.

Naughty little insects

4.  Termites are the biggest farters on Earth.  And you thought the cows were to blame....

5.  You can continue to fart and belch up to three hours after death and before rigor mortis sets in. 

Please don't try this at home.

6.  You can indeed light a fart on fire.  This fact has kept teenage boys in giggles for many, many years....and the results have entertained hundreds of front-line health care workers.



7.  You cannot hold a fart in until it disappears.  It never disappears, and will usually pop out to say hi at a most inconvenient and embarrassing moment.

And who can resist a funny alternative name for flatulence.  One of my personal favourites is one that was used by a family friend when I was growing up - putterputt.  I like it not only because the word has a kind of poetic rhythm, but sometimes they actually sound like that.  In our house it is also called a bottom-frog or a fluff. 

Who cut the cheese?

Here is a very short list of some of the good ones out there.  I actually hadn't heard of most of these, but quite frankly, I really like a lot of them.   I think it says something when there are more names for farts than there are for love....

30. Cutting the cheese

29. Roaring from the rear

28. Rebuilding the ozone layer

27. The lean mean bean machine

26. Sphincter siren

25. Thunder from down under

24. Fragrant foof

23. Doing the one-cheek sneak

22. Free jacuzzi

21. Nut knocker

20. Saluting my shorts

19. Ringing the Taco Bell

18. Floorboard lifter

17. Firing a stink torpedo

16. Mouse on a motorcycle

15. White Castle's revenge

14. Just calling your name

13. Passing the ass gas

12. Floating an air biscuit

11. Stomping on the barking spider

10. Fartrogen dioxide

9. The cry of the imprisoned turd

8. Pop a fluffy

7. Launching an air loaf

6. Horton hears a poo

5. Anal exhale

4. Vladimir Pootin'

3. Insane in the methane

2. Colon bowlin'

1. Blasting the butt tuba

(sourced from Buzzfeed)

So let them fly, ladies and gentlemen, dogs and cats. It's healthy, natural and good for you.  Just try not to do it next to me please.

I'd have to forgive this cat for making a smell, it's pretty cute.

The Small Things in Life

I have shared my life with all sorts of creatures - large and small.  While my life now is blessed with two extra-large dogs, two very spoiled cats, an assortment of hens and one lovely rooster, I have also had the pleasure of giving homes to many small pets over the years.

I think it all started when Mum and Dad got my brother and I a hamster.  Alison-Ann (named by my brother after a character in a children's book) was our first one, and she was quickly returned to the pet store after popping out a bunch of babies.  Someone had fun in their communal living....

Next was the infamous Peter Brady.  Peter Brady lived a good life for a hamster, and we had fun with him, watching him stuff his cheeks with tasty seeds and nuts, running on his wheel, and rarely biting us.

I love the idea of children getting small pets.  They are usually fairly low maintenance (no walks required, contained area to clean, and fairly easy to feed), teach kids to be gentle and kind, and they also have a short life span.  I know kids get bored of things in 5.2347 seconds but I don't know too many animals that only live that long.  Learning how to deal with the life and death is a skill that everyone needs to learn.

Peter Brady had a funeral and was buried in our yard.  I actually don't remember the specifics of the service, but it would have happened, and I would have cried.

After living for a few years in Australia in the 70's, our return to Canada brought with it a return to having small animals in the home.  My brother had his lovely little hamster Ralph.  Ralph was a lot of fun, and seemed to endure the stalking and staring directed at him from our cat Fred.  Ralph had one of those plastic balls that he could run around in.  These balls were clear plastic and had air holes.  Ralph loved to run around the house in his ball, safe from Fred's claws.  However, we had a split-level house and Ralph was not always supervised as well has he should have been....  It wasn't unusual to hear the bounce-bounce-bounce of Ralph stacking it down the stairs.  If he made it to the bottom without the ball splitting apart, he seemed to recover from his rapid descent and continue on with his exploring.  We also discovered that Ralph's poops fit nicely through the air holes, and he'd leave a trail of little brown nuggets, like breadcrumbs trailing behind Hansel and Gretel.

Those balls were hours of fun for everyone

Poor old Ralph made it to about 2 years old before falling into what we think was a coma and then passing away.  I'd like to think he had a pretty good life and didn't end up too traumatised by us.

Shortly after this, I got my first rabbit, Twitch, and then after her we got Bugsy and Thumper.  They were lovely black and white Dutch rabbits, very affectionate and lots of fun.  A friend of ours built a solid, 2 level rabbit cage with outdoor run, that was ideal housing for our spoiled rabbits.  We insulated it with lots of straw and they happily lived outside. 

Twitch

One bitterly cold November day, I went to feed and water the rabbits, only to be confronted with blood everywhere and Thumper laying out in the run area.  Mum and I scooped her up, and discovered 8 little bald, blind and helpless babies.  As it turns out, the pet store was not very adept at identifying the sex of the rabbits that they sold. We prepared a cage inside to keep them safe and warm.  Bugsy became a bachelor and remained outside.  Two babies died within 24 hours, but the remaining six were healthy and were very mischievous.  The makeshift cage that we had made wasn't rabbit-proof at all, and soon they had free run of the basement.  They were easily trained to use cat litter, but their growing incisors did do a bit of damage to some items, and Mum always had to shake out the laundry before putting it in the washing machine to ensure a little fluffball wasn't scooped up.

Bugsy and four of the babies were rehomed, and we kept Mum and two of the babies.

My cute babies!

All grown up and off to their new homes.

I also had guinea pigs.  I LOVE guinea pigs (or as they were known in our house - pinny-gigs).  If you haven't had the pleasure of cuddling one, they have delightful personalities, from chattering away in a jovial manner to squealing at a very high and loud pitch the minute your feet hit the floor until their food bowl is filled. 

One of my guinea pigs, Rhoda Dent (rodent...get it?!)

One such guinea pig, GP, was gifted to me by my Mum, and we noticed that she was getting quite fat.  I would chase her around the floor to get some exercise.  She often had a rumbly tummy that I could feel moving about under my hand as  I petted her.  Well, wasn't I naïve....she also had a bit of fun in her communal living at the pet store.  I have since discovered that guinea pigs can become pregnant at a very young age, and often. 

Oblivious to her condition, I went to serve her her breakfast one day, and surprise, there were two babies, fully furred and eating solid food.  GP did provide a good learning curve for me - I discovered that guinea pigs are born with their fur and eating solids, unlike the helpless, hairless rabbits that I had dealt with in the past.  One baby was hydrocephalic and died within a day, and the other baby grew up strong and precocious.  He was named Cisco The Pig, and he was given to friend's of the family.  Unfortunately their child ended up being allergic, so Cisco came back to us.  Being a male guinea pig (out of necessity, I had become very good at determining the sex of rabbits and guinea pigs thank you very much), he had to live in a separate cage from his mother.  Even though he wasn't born in the Ozarks, you would think he was with the great affection and attraction that he had for his mother.  There was no way we could ever let them near each other.

When I was in my adult years and living in my condo with Nip and Tuck, I decided that I needed guinea pigs again.  'Rescuing' two from the zoo that I volunteered at, Thelma and Louise joined our household and, remembering that Nip and Tuck were 'ornamental cats', we all got along very well.  They were lots of fun, and their chatter kept me entertained.

Thelma (R) and Louise (L)

While I no longer have any little pets, I have very fond memories and would highly recommend having them in your life.  They may be small, but they have huge hearts and surprisingly large personalities.

Because baby bunnies are adorable

Friday Follies - Seriously, I'm Crushed

This week, an actor that was the subject of many teenage crushes passed away.  David Cassidy wasn't one of my personal childhood crushes, but believe me, I had a few.

Every generation has their celebrity crush.  The year that I was born, Sidney Poitier was the popular love interest and the year after was Paul Newman, one of my mum's personal favourites.

I think my first childhood crush was Peter Brady from The Brady Bunch.  Boy, when I was in grade 2, I thought he was the bees knees.  So cute, so funny and a little bit mischievous.  In fact, I loved him so much that I named one of my hamsters Peter Brady.  Not Peter....Peter Brady.  He was a pretty cute hamster too.

You know you're good when a hamster is named
after you.

As I got older obviously my crushes changed.   To say I still had a crush on Peter Brady might be a bit weird.  I remember being quite taken with Ralph Macchio in The Karate Kid.  He was pretty great in The Outsiders too.  The Outsiders was a great vehicle for many typical teenage heart throbs of the 80's - C. Thomas Howell, Matt Dillon,  Patrick Swayze, Leif Garrett (remember him and his long, feathered locks?), Rob Lowe, Emilio Estevez and of course Tom Cruise (before he got all loved up and strange with Scientology).

Ralph Macchio - Junior High Crush

However, my biggest crush of all time, and still one that I like to keep on my 'freebie' list is  Billy Idol.  Oh Billy!  My bedroom was covered in his posters - spiked platinum hair and defiant sneer. Before I went to sleep and when I woke up, there was Billy, clad in leather and watching over me.  I'm pretty sure it must have been the bad boy side of him that attracted me.  And the trademark sneer.  I can sneer too, so I'm sure this made us compatible in every way.  If only he could meet me, he would love me.  I know it to be true.

Billy!

I went to quite a few Billy Idol concerts, and loved all of them.  Even though during the 80's he was at the height of his drug use, and his concerts definitely suffered for it, I still loved him.  I have since read his autobiography and quite truthfully, he was not a very nice person during this time.  If I had actually ever met him, this innocent and naïve 16 year old would have been shocked beyond belief.  The fantasy would have been ruined.  But crushes aren't about reality, they are about dreams and escapism.  Reality would ruin everything.  I'll stick with my posters and my rose-coloured glasses, thank you.

In all of his 80's glory.

Crushes never leave you, and listening to a Billy Idol song can bring back a lot of memories and feelings from my teenage years.  I feel like he was along for the ride with me - Sweet Sixteen and Rebel Yelling while I was Dancing With Myself, dreaming of a White Wedding and hoping he would Catch My Fall.

I'm older now, but still not immune to the odd celebrity crush.  I'm a bit partial to George Clooney, Jason Momoa, Channing Tatum (who isn't??), Tom Hardy and Travis Fimmel.  Sigh........uh, where was I? I lost focus for a minute there.  I'm even equal opportunity - I might consider changing teams for Sofia Vargara or Katheryn Winnick of Vikings fame.

Two for one

These crushes are a strange thing and serve no purpose in human evolution or survival, yet everyone has one at least once in their lives.  They are illogical but fun.  Psychologists actually have a name for it - parasocial interaction.  Well, that sounds more boring than 'crush', way to take the fun out of it people. 

These one-sided but intense relationships aren't necessarily a bad thing - which is good or we would all be in trouble.  We are free to have these feelings and these 'relationships' with no consequences, no chance of being hurt and their presence is constant and predictable.  I suspect that if we actually did meet our crushes and get to know them, we would end up being disappointed.  They are only human, and the image that we get of them is highly managed and contrived.  We don't get to see that they fart and belch, leave clothes on the floor and get snarky with bad moods. 

Although seriously, would you actually kick George out of your house if he let a bottom-frog loose?  I think not.

Did he or didn't he?

If My Cats Had Dating Profiles

Before I begin, I would like to advise you that Chamois has had some very keen interest from a Labrador.  He seems like a 'good boy' and is very keen....

Clawde (aka Clawdatious, Clawdapuss)

Will you love me?

I am a lovely ginger-furred feline with lots of love to give.  My tabby fur is slightly marred by a small bald patch due to a run in with a brown snake years ago, but I think you will find that it adds to my charm.  After all, chicks dig scars, don't they?

I am in my middle years, and while a bit more settled, you can still find me chasing random invisible objects up the wall and around the house, and I still succumb to the call of the 'crazies' on a rainy day.  I also love curling up on a nice blanket and having an afternoon snooze.  I enjoy some TV, especially nature shows but do prefer to have company - either human or animal.  You will find at a dinner parties that I like to be in the middle of everything. If you feed me salt and vinegar chips, I'll love you forever.  People food is one of my downfalls though, and if the humans are slow to indulge me, I do tend to use my claws, just in case they didn't notice me.  I like to be noticed.  I was homeless and living in a shelter for the first 10 months of my life, so I appreciate the finer things now.

Ooo La La!

I am very sociable and have not yet met an animal that I don't like (rats and mice excluded of course!).  I love to groom your fur, as long as you reciprocate. My current housemate takes advantage of my kind nature and grooming skills, but then turns around and tackles me when it is my turn for some preening.  He can be a bit of a jerk to be honest.  You will find that I am an equal opportunist, and love to demonstrate my caring nature and grooming on dogs as well.  They mostly seem to like, although some dogs get confused.  I can't help it if I'm just a good guy - I almost always bring them around to my way of thinking with persistence and love.

I am not hung up on looks, as long as you care for yourself and are kind.  I would prefer someone that has passed through their kitten years, as I find the antics a bit tiring after awhile.  You should still be young at heart though, and enjoy an evening hunt.  I love to catch and give 'gifts', so prepare to be spoiled.

Slow blink means I love you! And...I'm a rabbit!

If I sound like someone that you would be interested in, please contact me.  I can't wait to find that special someone that can exchange slow-blink cat kisses with me and can appreciate it when I love you enough to show you my bum.

Purrkins (aka Purrkolator, Porky-Pie)

Professional Glamour Photo

I am a stocky and solid blue-grey cat with lovely soft fur and a throaty loud voice.  If you love to have a chat and a cuddle, I'm your guy.

I've been told that I'm a bit of a mummy's boy, but I don't see it.  I just appreciate the love and affection that gets showered upon me, and quite frankly, I deserve it.  I will be a blessing in your life and can only make it better.


Pick me, pick me.

I am a very affectionate boy who cannot get enough cuddles.  Most nights I spend some time sleeping on my human's face, and she tells me she loves it.  On the flip side, I spend part of each day running and skidding through the house with crazy eyes - it makes my mummy laugh and I'm sure you will appreciate my zany love of life.

I don't shy away from housework, and I always make sure I'm in the house when cleaning activities are in full swing.  Some of my favourite things are helping to make the bed and walking on freshly mopped floors.  I also enjoy helping to cook dinner by sitting on mum's lap so make sure she doesn't take anything out of the oven too early.

Helping with the laundry

I love all species - as long as you are nice to me, I will be nice to you.  I sometimes take a while to warm up to new dogs, and like to test them by whacking them with my sharp claws.  It makes me laugh when they skitter away.  My current housemates - a cat and two large dogs - are all great friends and they can vouch for my special qualities.

I am looking for someone who appreciates all of me - the loving and the insane - and who is willing to move into my family home.  I'm sure you will appreciate my mummy as much as I do.

Friday Follies - I Can See Clearly Now My Lens Is Gone...

As the gong of my Grandmother's mantle clock chimed on a bright sunny morning, I realised that this would be the very last day that I would spend with one of my body parts.

It's a part of my body that I have never given much thought to, nor really cared about to be honest.  But as with everything in life, when it starts misbehaving, it gets noticed.

My eyes have always been a bit of a pain, inheriting short sightedness and astigmatism from my father led to a lifetime of a love/hate relationship with glasses.  Getting glasses as a teenager, when I was already in the throws of awkwardness, did not help matters, and I resented them greatly.

As the years went on, I learned to live with them, and better yet, learned to live with contact lenses.  What a great invention they are, allowing clear and focussed eyesight without the hassle and annoyance of glasses.  Contacts have their own negatives - I was forever dealing with cat hair in my eyes (you don't know pain until you have had fur caught in your contacts) and falling asleep with them in by accident after a fun night out.  Still, it was all worth it to avoid being a four eyes.



 I loved my contacts too much and got told to give them a break as I was wearing them for too many hours a day, causing blood vessels to grow in my eyes.  No permanent damage at this stage, but I was heading down that road.  I weaned myself off their use and learned to like my glasses.

Leaping forward to 2010, I took the plunge and got laser surgery on my eyes to correct my vision.  I had heard horror stories in the 80's and 90's and was cautious, but science and technology had progressed to a point where my astigmatism was not the barrier that it used to be.

I won't lie, they laser surgery was awful, but thankfully over very quickly.  That day and the next day were filled with a variety of drops and very itchy eyes, but the next day...well.....WOW!  I could see!  Without glasses.  My vision improved over the next days, weeks and months and eventually settled and I was absolutely delighted with the results.  I could buy all of those great fun sunglasses, covered in bling, and not worry about having my glasses for driving. My muscle memory took a while to be retrained, and I was constantly reaching for my glasses in the morning, or pushing them up my face during the day.  Those habits took a long time to break.

As the years passed, I took my eyesight for granted but then started to notice that one eye seemed to be regressing a bit.  Not badly, but I noticed that the vision in my right eye was not as good as it used to be.  And don't get me started about dry eyes - apparently the combination of laser surgery and peri-menopause is fertile ground for dry eyes.  My annual visits to the optometrist confirmed that my vision was slightly worse in that eye, but nothing to be concerned about.  The other problems with my vision were just due to aging (sigh!) and easily fixed with reading glasses.

But last year was the kicker.  If you ever want to feel old, just sit there while your optometrist says, "Wow, you have a cataract."  Wow?  Why don't you just hit me with a cane, put me in Depends, blue rinse my hair and shove sensible shoes onto my feet?  Apparently, despite my protestations, I am not too young for a cataract, and he listed all the people in their teen's, 20's and 30's that he has seen with cataracts to prove it.  I think the look of horror on my face scared him, and he was desperately trying to make me feel better.  Yeah, buddy, that didn't help, but thanks for trying.

My dear little cataract quietly grew bigger over the year (sometimes they don't get bigger or do so slowly) to the point that my right eye is barely legal for driving, and the glare that I get drives me nuts.  I can't count how many times I have gone to clean my reading glasses or sunglasses on the right lens, only to discover it's me, not the glasses.   Finally fed up, I booked my appointment with the specialist.

And here we are.  Today is the first day I have woken up with a fake body part.  I'm hoping for, and expect, a smooth recovery.  The surgeon said that I have to careful with lifting anything heavy or being in dirty environments (I heard that as any type of cleaning...) for a few weeks. 

I have told my ever-suffering husband that the recovery is 6 months....shhhh!
Here's to ageing, betrayal of body parts and generally breaking down.  At the end of the day, I can't complain, if you are going to have something go wrong, it's a pretty easy one to get fixed.  I just hope I can't see what a crappy job I've been doing with my housework now.  Ignorance was bliss.

I can see clearly now my lens is gone.

I can see all dogs laying in my way.

Gone is the cloudy lens that made me blind.

It's gonna be a bright (bright)

Bright (bright) non-glaring day.

(original lyrics for I Can See Clearly Now by Jimmy Cliff)