Percival (2007–2007)

It brings me much sorrow to report the passing of Percival, a hamster Claire adopted so recently that he had yet to make an appearance in this blog.

Claire had been on the lookout for a hamster, preferably a female one, and she had been giving me reports of the the cute ones and the sickly ones, and one little guy that seemed particularly feisty and less friendly than the others. While this wasn't exactly a glowing review, I had suspicions that I might be hearing more about the guy. He managed to make an impression, which is no small accomplishment when you're three inches tall and look pretty similar to everyone around you. Sure enough Claire started the next phone call with a guess what?, and I managed to guess what pretty quickly.

As he was getting settled in, Claire referred to him as her 'ham,' and I called him 'the little guy.' One evening, while navigating London by map my eyes happened upon Percival David Foundation of Chinese Art, and I realized I liked the name. The Arthurian connotations seemed to fit well since Percival must have seemed a little fierce when the knights first found him in the woods. Claire liked the name, too, and noted that it fit the connections with Perseus, since the little guy had wing-like tufts of fur on his haunches.

About a day after the name was selected, Percy began to exhibit symptoms of wet-tail, a disease that affects many young hamsters, especially those whose immune systems are weakened by the stress of the shipping process. Other hamsters at the store had been showing the symptoms, so it wasn't hard to believe that Percy had managed to contract it. Claire gave him medication and lots of tender loving care, and he was showing signs of improvement in the last day or so, taking brief spins on his wheel and eating a little more. Recovery, though, was not in the cards for Percy, and he died during the night.

Though I never met Percival, he will forever maintain a special place in my heart as the first pet I named.

SDRAM sadness

I finally got up the motivation to re-set my second gig of RAM in my laptop, which I removed when I sent the Alien in for servicing. After checking with two of my neighbors for Phillips screwdrivers, I finally got the card installed, only to find that its presence prevented the computer for booting. Close inspection under a bright light revealed a hairline crack in one of the eight integrated circuits, which seems to be enough to ruin the whole SO-DIMM. I've had to take it out a number of times, but this was the first time that I had to travel with it outside of my computer, and apparently my precautions were insufficient. This saddens me not only because of the inconvenience, but also because the SO-DIMM was a rather generous and timely Christmas gift from my parents in 2005.

Passing

I'm saddened to learn of Robert Altman's passing on Sunday, but I'm pleased to remember that his A Prairie Home Companion was the cinematic highlight of my summer and an appropriately poignant finale to his career.

Computer Over

The hard drive of plumtree, my primary computer, died today. I'm going to be stuck with quidnunc, my old Dell, for the next three weeks. quidnunc has no wireless, so updates to this blog before early October may be infrequent. (So what else is new?)

Wish me luck.

A decade of May

I made my annual visit to Dr. James F. May this morning, knowing well that it may be the last with my soon-to-be-retired orthodontist. I was still a bit saddened to hear him tell me that future check-ups will no longer be necessary. Trips to the orthodontist, while never fun, have been a reassuring routine in my life for over a decade. The first appliance he installed was a trans-palatal arch, which he and his staff tweaked every month through 1996. On a cold January day of the following year he installed my braces, and from the start of 1997 to the summer of 1998 they cranked on the braces too. After the day of emancipation (in late July, I recall), my visits with Dr. May became ever-so-much more pleasant. Since then he's checked my retainers' fit annually, and has always found it to fit well, and our appointments have been brief, happy affairs. I may not see him again, but I suspect Claire (another patient of his) and I will reminisce on Dr. May (and the suffering through which he put us) for years to come.

All that flitters is not a goldfinch

In the late spring there was a beautiful pair of goldfinches that could often be seen around the yard together. The birdfeeder in our youngest ash tree only accepts small birds, and they tended to prefer that one. Since then one of the birds left and the other one has remained. It has a dull coat, but I don't know if that means if it is the female or if the male has lost his bright plumage since the end of mating season. Whichever one it is, it spends much time in the trees or at the feeder by itself, but occasionally comes to peck at our windows. It will flitter at the bottom of the window for minutes at a time, tapping its beak against the glass. At first I thought it was trying to get in, but earlier this morning I saw it doing the same thing to the sideview mirror of our neighbors' Jaguar. I suppose this whole time its been seeing not what's inside, but what's reflected from the outside—namely its own reflection. I think it's a very lonely bird.

End

Single again after almost nine months.