Painting by numbers

If you're anything like me, you've always pooh-poohed this style of art. In fact, I still don't think it is art - it's really just a different read on a puzzle.

Having literally just completed the second of two massive jigsaws - 1000 and 1500 pieces - the kids gave me an Aldi paint by numbers kit for Mother's Day. I also scored the Jacinda Ardern book, "A New Kind of Leader" and a plate of home-made jelly slice. Winner!!!

Mother's Day was back in early May, and I finished the painting yesterday. Here it is.

That, my friends, was a bloody marathon! Here are a couple of progress pictures, to prove I didn't snip the image off the front of the packet.

Yep - Gary walking over my 'masterpiece' and 

having a little drink from the brush water...

And for reference, here is the packet. I'd describe the outcome as more of a facsimile or a likeness, rather than an accurate depiction. And once you get into one of these, you quickly discover why.

Before embarking on this project, I näively assumed paint by numbers was as simple as working your way through the provided colours and fill in the spaces with that colour. How wrong I was! Yes, some colours are straight out of the pot, but others require mixing - and not just two, sometimes there are three.

The instructions said that if two numbers were indicated, mix in equal parts. So I was surprised to see areas requiring 10/6 abutted next to areas of 6/10. More confusing was that some of these complex colours mentioned numbers - like 26 and 19 -  that weren't supplied 😳.

To add to my frustration, being the rule follower that I am, on more than one occasion, the colour I mixed looked pretty bloody identical to a previous combination of different colours! At that point, I confess, there may have been some rouge, 'off-piste' and ad-lib painting.

Other issues included incredibly teensy-weensy areas and numbers. I don't normally wear reading glasses, but was forced to commandeer a pair of Geoff's x2 magnifying glasses to see what the heck was going on. What this also revealed was that once into the very detailed areas, some spaces were absent of numbers. (No - they weren't meant to be white as they were all numbered 1.) Couple that with the single 'one size does NOT fit all' brush that comes with the kit and the degree of difficulty is ramped up several notches. Here's an example, which I have blown up so much it's actually gone fuzzy - to make my point. 

So - would I recommend it as an iso-hobby? It's no better for your neck and back than a puzzle, it takes at least as long and ruined my thumb-nail opening those silly little pots, but a least with a jigsaw, once it's done, you can pop it back in the box and pass it along. What on earth do you do with a dodgy piece of 'art'??? I'm thinking about the recycling bin.

The Pet Warmer

As you know, Gary the cat is getting on in years. He's about 15 with a thyroid issue that means he's mostly skin and bone, and I suspect that's why he feels the cold.

In the morning, he'll head straight for the bathroom where we have underfloor heating and as that cools after the morning rush, he'll settle himself into our doona or on a couch.

We lock Gary in the laundry at night and, like Barnaby Joyce, turn the central heating off when we go to bed. He has a thick bed with plenty of blankets, but I was worried he was cold.

There's a reputable pet shop around the corner from us, so I jumped on their website to look for an electric blanket for him. They didn't have any. It seemed odd and they have every other way to extract a dollar from pet owners - but no electric blankets. I've now worked out why and suspect you have too! 

I then got online and found a swag of them. I chose this $15.99 one (incl free postage), as they all looked about the same but this one was cheap and less aesthetically hideous than most

And here it is.

It had the wrong plug, but I grabbed a travel adaptor and plugged it in.

Happiness for a few weeks.

Then, it just stopped working. The light was on but it was stone cold. I emailed the supplier and asked if there was any way to reboot it? He said to get it fixed locally and they'd refund half the price 'for your trouble'. Now I don't know how much they pay for repairs in China, but I'm pretty sure $8 won't go far around these parts.

As I contemplated my options, I took it off Gary's bed and noticed this... yep, a burn mark.

I emailed old mate in China and pointed out that I'd discovered the issue - that thing had shorted! And miraculously hadn't started a fire. He said he'd refund 100% of my money as they don't have any replacement stock. I'm assuming because lawsuits are both in progress and pending.

I was then reviewing Gary's bedding situation and found this... yes, that is a highly flammable, polar-fleece blanket and a scorch mark around a melted hole.

How the heck that thing didn't start a fire - or electrocute Gary - I don't know.

I was relaying this to a friend last night, who reminded me of the cautionary tale a fellow dinner-party guest relayed to me at her house a couple of years back. Their son had turned on his electric blanket and gone for a shower, only to come back and find his bed engulfed in flames. They called the fire brigade. Another guest was a buyer at one of the large supermarkets and confirmed that she had put an end to them selling electric blankets because the quality wasn't up to scratch.

I'd forgotten that.

Meanwhile, Gary is safe, if a little chilly, and I still have my super cosy supermarket electric blanket on my bed. I just don't leave the house when it's on.

Camping At Home

As part of what feels like the world's longest renovation, our floors are being sanded back and stained, which means we've moved out to the shed.

We've been semi-living in the shed since July last year when the kitchen was ripped out. There's a bar fridge, a microwave and a two-ring gas cooker. Between that and the barbeque, we've managed to avoid the temptation (and expense!) of Uber Eats.

However, we have managed, until now, to be sleeping and showering in the house. Now we've all been evicted - including Gary.

Night one was a disaster.

Sass and I took a couch each. These were the cheapest couches going on the internet. They look deceptively okay but my god, they're uncomfortable beyond description. I know why they sell them online - if you had the opportunity to sit on them in a store, you wouldn't buy them.

The backs fold back to make beds and Elle says inviting guests to sleep on them is just plain rude! I'd lie on one and say they were fine and no guest has complained. Let me state, here and now, they are NOT FINE!!  Despite my $50 mattress toppers, those beds are brutal. There's a hard ridge right down the centre that even the topper and a woollen underlay can't take the edge off.

Geoff had the blow-up mattress, which has had years of reliable use - until that first night - when it slowly deflated leaving Geoff lying on the cold tiles. Fortunately, I'd set up an inflatable single bed for Elle who's coming home on Friday, so at about 3am, he crawled on to that. Unfortunately, his head hung off one end and his feet off the other.

 I looked for the puncture in the morning, gave up and headed to Anaconda. They had a deluxe QS inflatable bed, with built-in pump for $69. Done.

I got it home, pumped it up, made it and had a lie-down, admiring its comfort. (That's it below left. It's even as high as a proper bed!)

Last night, I abandoned my couch and joined Geoff. It was no better. It was so bouncy with two people that I was almost sea-sick. It'll be back to the world's most uncomfortable couch tonight.

If I'm a little crotchety when you see me, you'll know why - lack of sleep. But what I'm not getting, Gary is making up for - he seems to be loving the arrangement!!

Catnapped - again!!

Gary is a little pissed off - and I don't blame him.

It's been nearly two years since he was last catnapped and he didn't enjoy that experience either.

Now it's happened again; on Thursday, about 5.30pm.

I received a call from someone at the council from Pet Control regarding Gary. (Actually, I don't think it's really called Pet Control, but it was something like that.)  I confess, my first thought was that he'd been squashed on a road somewhere, but no, just a call to ask me to retrieve him, uninjured, from the emergency animal hospital on Dandenong Road.

The council person explained they'd tracked me down via his microchip and that the vet at the hospital was concerned that Gary was so skinny. Seriously, I've never had Child Protection knock at my door, but I did have a bit of insight at that moment of what it might feel like.

Before I had time to get too defensive, she did say she'd check his file (Gary has a file!!) and noted that he is 15, so maybe that's why he's scrawny.

I still felt compelled to let her know that we are caring and responsible cat owners, we lock him in at night, give him medication twice a day for his dodgy thyroid and that he's basically living the life of Riley.

Anyway... yet again, some do-gooder had scrapped Gary up, most likely from right outside our house, and zipped him off to the animal hospital. Gee - that would have been a fun ride without a cat-carrier and knowing that most times Gary's put in a car, his immediate response is to do a really big, sloppy, smelly poo.

Like the previous post, he was wearing a collar from our vet with his name on it. It wasn't like he could be mistaken for a stray. I mentioned this to the lady from Pet Control, but she said the hospital hadn't mentioned a collar.

Sass and her friend arrived home - did they want to come and pick up Gary? No - so not.

I was forced to schlep alone through peak-hour traffic to the hospital - around 30 minutes. Such bad timing. If at any point, you're thinking of taking Gary to a vet, just because, could you at least make it outside of peak hour, please?

On arrival, I tried to ascertain what idiot had scrapped Gazza up from his own street, whilst minding his own business, and rushed him to the hospital - but they were giving me nothing. The woman there claimed to only know that he'd been dropped off. (BTW, I didn't use the word 'idiot' while I was there - it was more of your polite, vague enquiry.)

We're were going against the traffic on the way home so it was a quicker trip than the way there. Nor did Gary, secure in his cat-carrier, empty his bowels - he must have done that earlier with the good samaritans. I guess as the saying goes, righteousness is its own punishment!

Gary - pleased to be home!

Fail

No - not the rowing - that's later today.

This happened on Friday night just as I was packing to leave.

My mobile was ringing and it was the vet, so Sass answered. After a short period of confusion, she said, Hang on, I'll put Mum on.

Hi, so...um... we have Gary here....

Gary was perfectly fine. As it transpired, a couple had spotted him - probably right outside our house - and recognised the collar I'd left on him since he was last boarding at the vet. I can only imagine they have pets who go there as it's a generic hospital-type tag with no reason to connect it. It looks like this.

Anyway, for some reason, they supposed Gary had escaped said vet, so got him in their car and drove him there.

I can imagine that short drive wasn't pleasant. Gary hates the car and yowls the entire way - but when I take him, he's trapped in a cat carrier - and I assume on this trip he was free ranging.

Arriving at the vet, the receptionist  bought into the escape story pandemonium and panic ensued; staff were informed, cages were checked and heads counted.... nope, no-one missing.

Booking were finally referred to and yep - Gary wasn't meant to be there.

Hmmm.

I have no idea if the well meaning couple were still on the premises - I almost hope not. Whoops.

Need a laugh? Pop into the vet.

When I say 'laugh', I don't mean that slightly hysterical, nervous laugh you involuntarily emit when they tell you how much you owe them - because if you have a pet, that's axiomatic.

I seriously believe the veterinary clinic has been overlooked as a sitcom opportunity, evidenced by one of my pre-Christmas stints in the waiting room. Picture this:

A heavily decaled station wagon, with palm trees, tropical flowers, blue skies and a Paradise Pet Resort branding rolls into the car park. An extremely large man dressed in black pants and a black shirt with the resort's logo embroidered on the pocket heaves himself out of the car and lumbers in. It would have been so much funnier if he'd talked in  Little Britain-type camp voice - he didn't but you can pretend.

Good morning, he says to the girl behind the desk. I'm John from the Paradise Pet Resort.... I have a booking for Tipsy and Mr Pickles.
Ah! she replied. Yes, Tipsy is here but I haven't seen Mr Pickles this morning. Let me give his owner a call and see where he is.

She catches one of the nurses as she goes past. Could you get Tipsy ready to go to the resort, please?

She then makes the call and it's clear she has to leave a message: Hi, it's Chrissy from the vet, just wondering if Mr Pickles will be here shortly? His transfer to the resort has arrived and will be leaving in about 15 minutes. If you could give us a call that'd be great. If he doesn't make it this morning, there's another transfer on Wednesday. Thank you.

As Tipsy was brought to reception in a cage and unceremoniously slid into the back of the car, no one was laughing, everyone was very serious and business-like. You'd think they were transferring guests at The Mirage in Fiji.

Is this what they do at a cat resort??

There does seem to be an unspoken competition for who can give their cat the silliest name (and surely 'Gary' is up there) but I don't think I could have those kinds of conversations without at least a little giggle. Perhaps they're all immune.

As I was leaving, a lady came in with a small child; We're here to collect Sizzle.  Of course they were!

The Gold Plated Cat

Gary is ginger - sort of gold - which makes sense given how much he's about to cost me.

In fairness, so far he's been a cheap ride. He was gifted to us by neighbours heading OS, he's happy to eat Aldi cat food and aside from immunisations and a bit of arthritis, his medical expenses have been minimal; until now.

He was looking very ordinary after the recent heatwave. In truth, over the last few months, he's been eating like a horse but getting skinnier and skinnier. 

Geoff: Do you think the cat has cancer?

Me: Maybe. But he seems happy enough. 

His lack of health on the weekend could not be ignored. I wasn't even convinced he'd see Monday.

Anyway, I did take him to the vet who ran through the options - including euthanising him. But if it was just a thyroid problem, that could be fixed and apparently we'd get a few more years out of him. To determine that he needed to be admitted and popped on a drip and have blood and urine samples taken. How much, I asked. I'd already decided if it was hundreds, I'd say yes but if it was more, goodbye Gary. Naturally it was something like $965. Damn it!! 

The vet added if he needed to stay longer, it's $3-400 a day. $3-400??!! The most expensive hotel I can find on LastMinute.com is only $338 a night - and that's at the fancy-pants casino - not in a very small cage at the suburban vet next to a big dog.

Sass and I visited him this morning and he has perked up considerably. She was so relieved. Here they are.

The vet rang before with news. I can't even decide if it's good or bad. I'm torn. It is his thyroid and possibly a little something else - but treatable with a tablet or two a day. Great, I said, should we pick him up? Of course it's not that simple. They need to keep him in for a few days and monitor him while they get the right level of medication - at $3-400 a day!!!! And if he has to take a tablet every day, we'll have to take him to South Australia with us - an 8 hour drive. 

Yep - the joy of Christmas.

Weird Tokyo: Part I

Thanks again for your patiences! 

There was so much weird stuff in Tokyo - amazing, curious, fabulous - but weird.

Here are the first lot of highlights:

• Maiddreamin. Originally developed to cater to the fantasy of Japanese men to have subservient young girls in French maid outfits talking in baby voices and calling them master, these restaurants are now frequented by couples, women and tourists but they're no less odd. The one we went to promised 'magic' which turned out to be us reciting silly dittos in Japanese/English, drawing love-heart shapes in the air and meowing like cats. The real surprise was the fact we did it! Check out Sass's burger and dessert - getting the idea? And the flakes on our noodles 'danced' - this wasn't part of the magic, just paper thin flakes of something - fish? seaweed? - moving with heat and moisture. You pay to get in, pay to have a photo with the maids but you can take pics of your food for free. There are rules I found on the net including not touching the pmaids' bodies and not asking for their personal contact details. Yikes.

• Cat Cafe. Yep - not content with just maids, we went  to a cat cafe as well. (Thanks Sarah McSweeny for that tip via FB!) The ladies who ran the joint were surprised we only wanted 30 minutes (you pay by time) including a drink. They clearly didn't like us - perhaps they coul recognise non cat lovers. We have a cat at home, Gary, and he's less snarly than these ones. Mind you, if I was shut in a small over heated room being pawed by people all day I'd probably be snarly too. Like the maid restaurant, there are rules - like don't kick the cats. Seriously - I'm not making that up. We had to slip into slippers, talk quietly and not touch any cats with pink or white collars. There were people in there who clearly love nothing more than nestling in on a couch, covering their lap with a supplied blanket and patting cats. Hmmmm.

 All slippered up and ready to.... pat?!

Peak hour at the cat cafe. Lucky we didn't get thrown out for this pose!

Cosplay. This is 'costume play' and apparently adopted by kids who are/were bullied at school so it gives them an alter ego. Not often you see peeps in Melbourne get out to a Sunday market dressed like this. The guide book said there are hoards of them on the weekend in Harajuku - there aren't really, but there are a few - and they're very friendly! 

• In the same area on the same weekend, we saw a group of Japanese rock-a-billies doing their thing with a huge beatbox like I've not seen since the 80s. No picture necessary - it's in your head clear as day!

• How's this gem we found in electric town: Connect to the Future - a remote control car OR toilet. You decide!

Don't think I've forgotten Japanese toilets - they deserve a post of their own!