Photography ... astronomy ... art ... design ... technology
(... and the odd rant)

All of these make my world go 'round, to some extent, and they will all be found here at some time or other. Some of the photography can be purchased from my Redbubble site. I can also be found at Tempus Fugit (no longer being updated).

Monday, June 14, 2010

300 Words

Having discovered 300 Words this evening, and finding it a splendid idea, I thought I'd try to rise to the challenge. If I manage to turn it into a habit, I might even become a contributor. Here's a start.


I’m a cat person, sort of. I prefer them to dogs, without question – which isn’t to say that I like all cats, or dislike all dogs; far from it, and perish the thought. Why the preference then, when it turns out that I am allergic to the fickle felines?

Let’s see: they amuse me. Well, dogs can do that too, so it’s not just that. They look pretty and feel nice, on the whole. They take care of themselves, without having to be walked, and without one having to pick up biological detritus dropped on said walks. Mind you, I feel somewhat ashamed that they might be nipping over the fence to dig up a neighbour’s precious primulas, but compared to what my son could be doing to their precious daughter, it’s a minor misdemeanour. Not that he lives with us any more, but that’s beside the point.

Maybe it’s an ego-massage-thing: that an animal that can be so aloof if it chooses, might decide to honour your lap with its warm presence, is clearly a comment on your suitability as a host. Have a gold star.

Cats eat quietly. They don’t drool… much. They can’t be heard a couple of hundred metres away, barking at anything that moves – and several things that don’t. They are not inclined to roll in all manner of unspeakable substances that consequently require the donning of protective clothing and a fixed grimace in order to eliminate the offending miasma. They do, however, have minuscule lances on their feet, which they tend to use indiscriminately when young; adulthood eventually puts a stop to that sort of nonsense, unless they are being tormented (or think they are).

Maybe it’s the wide open, love-me eyes, or the I-know-you’re-there-but-I’m-ignoring-you confidence as they walk past, or even that they are a smaller package. Ultimately I’ll just have to admit that Mr Spock would find it illogical. Perhaps I can get some therapy.

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