Jupiter in better days
Today was the day I was hoping would never come, as impossible as it is. Today was the day we said goodbye to Jupiter, our porch cat.
Jupiter wandered into our lives ten years ago, his initial wariness giving way to unabashed love. Once a feral cat darting from home to home, he knew he had found his home when we stopped to feed and love him. The only night he ever spent indoors was his last one, last night.
I am in shambles.
He was the most dog-like cat I’ve ever known. He was super-chill, rarely letting anything faze him. He would come up and hug anyone who happened to stop by to chat. He would sometimes tag along with us when we would take the dog for a walk, trailing behind us and darting from home to home as if he were stalking us. He also always came running when he would hear our front door open or our voices calling to him.
He was a superstar of a cat.
One important takeaway from this week’s social media dust-up is the value of having my blog. I liked to pretend that Twitter was more open then Facebook and thus I favored posting there. Yet, when someone falsely accused me there, blocked me, and went on to spread this lie to all of her followers, Twitter left me few, if any, options for getting my response out. It was maddening to watch the rumors spread and have no way of countering them with the truth.
Here, I own my own bits. Here, I decide what gets said. Here, I may solicit discussion or … not. Here, my words live forever.
All that, and I have a goddamn edit button, too.
OZ Division, USS ELLIOT DD-967, fall 1991.
Had a dust-up on social media the other day and, frankly, I am still mystified how it all took place.
I tend to follow online and amplify veterans who lean left because the perception of the military consisting of only right-wingers needs to change. A tweet from one of the more popular veterans I follow attracted several good comments. I liked one from a particular veteran (we’ll call her Karen), checked her profile, and followed her when I saw we had something in common: our Navy occupations were in cryptography.
Yesterday, a story went viral of a North Carolina man and woman who fought off an attack by a rabid bobcat. This story made news all over the world (it was a slow news Friday, I suppose) but I became annoyed that none of the stories mentioned who the victims were. I thought this might make a good opportunity to use my Open Source Intelligence (OSINT) skills to try to identify them based on what was known so far. And what do you know, I managed to do it!
Since I hadn’t seen that the couple had granted any interviews anywhere, I figured they were not interested in publicity and I opted not to mention their names publicly. I now see that Wilmington station WECT has interviewed them so I can reveal my work. The folks involved are good people and I don’t want my post to be used to harass them so I will focus on my techniques rather than their identity.
So, at the start of this journey all I had was the video. You see them leaving their house in the morning and getting attacked by the bobcat as they attempt to get into their car. The man pulls the animal off of his wife and flings it into the yard before they escape. It’s quite wild.
Durham VA COVID Clinic sign
I got the first of two COVID-19 vaccination shots on Saturday. For several years the Veterans Administration (VA) has been providing my healthcare. About two weeks ago I asked my doctor there if it was possible to get a shot. I stressed that I did not want to take one away from anyone else but if one were available I would love to get it. Thankfully, the VA has made it a priority that every veteran who wants a shot can get a shot. To my surprise, I got a call a day later! I was to be at the Durham VA on Saturday, 6 February at 9 AM to get my COVID-19 vaccination.
Our son Travis has been eager to get his vaccination, too, so in the offchance that he could pick up a shot, too, he accompanied me to the Durham VA. We hit the road shortly after 8 AM and drove through mostly-empty streets to Durham.
We arrived to a somewhat chaotic scene. One of the VA’s parking decks has been undergoing repairs for the past several months and parking has been tight even on a usual day. This day, there was a stream of veteran patients all arriving at the same time for their COVID shots. Though we got there at 8:35 for a 9 AM appointment, it took several minutes to find an open parking spot. Reaching the top level of the deck, we hopped out and headed to the walkway.
It was at the start of the walkway that I stopped to read the sign on the floor. No walk-in shots would be available. Regretfully, I turned to Travis and told him today would not be his day. With sadness, he turned back and waited for me in the car.
I joined a scrum of people waiting in line after line. First was the typical COVID risk screening at the entrance. A woman studied the masks worn by the visitors and switched out ones that didn’t meet her standards. I was amused when I was asked to trade the NIOSH-certified N95 mask that has protected me for months for an uncertified KN95 mask I was given. This was even more amusing when visitors with surgical masks that are not nearly as protective as my N95 were allowed to continue wearing them. Could it be that I know more about mask protection than healthcare workers?
At a recent conference, an African American speaker told an inspiring story of an interaction with law enforcement, when he had expected the worst intentions from the officer but his worry proved unfounded. Our speaker had been walking to the local gym after an early-morning run. Soon he became aware that a police car was slowly following him. Immediately he assumed he was being profiled.
“Did you know you were being followed?” the officer asked. The speaker feigned ignorance.
“You were being followed by a rabid fox back there,” the officer replies. “I was just watching out for you.”
The happy moral of the speaker’s story is not to assume bad intentions, see?
In the spring of 2020, Travis and I took a virtual ground school from a local flying club, the Wings of Carolina (WoC). It was the second time I’d gone through ground school, the first one being in the mid 1990s. That time I never got around to taking the FAA exam and I’d hoped to complete it all this time around.
Travis has expressed his interest in becoming a pilot. He has excellent vision and would spend lots of time using my flight simulator. I’d promised him long ago if he completed ground school I would be happy to pay for it, but still he was on the fence. When dates opened up for the virtual ground school, I prodded him multiple times about signing up but he was noncommittal. Finally, I signed myself up with the goal of finally finishing what I started. This was all it took to convince Travis to sign up, too, and we were off!
Twice a week, we would gather in front of our playroom TV to “attend” class. For three hours per night we’d be on Zoom as our instructor, John, filled out formulas and sketches on a whiteboard in WoC’s classroom. About 30 other classmates joined in, too. There were some technical glitches, fewer opportunities to interrupt with a question, and more of a distant feel to it than I would’ve hoped.
One absolutely wonderful thing that happened in 2020 was the U.S. Presidential Election. Elections bookended the pandemic for me. In March 2020, I volunteered to be an inside poll observer for the Wake County Democratic Party. This gave me insight into how elections are carried out. Being one of those rare people who have never missed an election, I was already well-familiar with how the process worked from the public point of view but learning more about the various checks put in place was quite educational.
COVID was a thing in the March primary but not taken as seriously. Spending so long in a school classroom turned polling place, packed with dozens of strangers seems like suicide to me now. The general election was far more strict, with volunteers carefully limiting the number of people indoors.
I was also disappointed to be restricted in my movement during the general election. Chief judges would corral the observers into one area rather than letting us do our jobs. After some cajoling I managed to get this largely fixed. I’m sure part of the issue was the threat of violence that was on everyone’s mind due to heightened tensions.
Without exception, though, the interactions I had with the Republican poll observers I spent time with were positive. We had good chats about the state of the community and the country. In the past I would’ve posed for pictures with them but the pandemic made that unworkable.
I got sick of having a disaster of a lawn. Over a decade ago I had vowed to hang up my hoses and not waste money on grass, but something had to be done. I decided that drought-resistant “Celebration” hybrid Bermuda sod was what we needed.
At the end of summer, I killed all the weeds and grass in our front and back yards. A few weeks later I had a giant tractor trailer deliver 11 pallets of sod. It was pouring down rain when the driver arrived. In his efforts to place mulch in our backyard his forklift quickly got mired in the mud at the end of our driveway. For two hours we struggled to get enough traction to free his forklift, only succeeding when my neighbor Chris arrived to help steer as we pulled.
The damage to the back yard had been done, though. A 6,000 pound forklift cut deep ruts in our muddy yard and those ruts had to be repaired before the sod could be put down.
It took back-breaking, Herculean effort by myself, Kelly, and Travis to repair the yard and get the sod put down while it was still alive. I personally pushed myself past the point of exhaustion many nights. I was a wreck. Surprised I didn’t have a heart attack, actually.
It was a stupid, stupid amount of work. But. We. Got. It. Done!
And it looked incredible! For once we had a strong turf grass that didn’t mind the sun or the shade! It’s been perfect.
With the first freeze, the sod has gone dormant and some weeds have appeared but overall it will look fantastic in the spring when it greens up. I won’t have to do much with it to maintain it, either. So far it’s been a great investment in our home.
There are some things about my health that aren’t yet going in the right direction. When the pandemic began, I saw a tip to get a pulse oximeter to measure one’s lung health. It has been great in tracking my sleep apnea. Most nights I sleep with no apnea events but it continues to happen. When it does happen I pop wide awake, frustrated not trusting that I won’t stop breathing again.
I still haven’t found any good solutions. I am not sure there are any. I hope that this gets better this year because I am useless without a good night’s sleep.