Fishy Business on 'Mal's Murmurings'

An update on our calico fantail, CALLIE'S PROGRESS, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'

Houdini's Release

Houdini, the uninvited furry house guest, on his fifth trick failed to escape. This morning, very early by my standards, I ventured up to the wild area of the garden, live-capture mousetrap in hand and, released the charmed little critter into the undergrowth.

The Houdini title was well-earned, although I suspect his first visit (to) and escape (from) the trap owed more to the friction of the floor covering than the meeces innate skill. On that occasion the door failed to click into place and, young Houdini beat a hasty retreat. On another occasion he managed to tip the trap onto its side, thus enabling easy access to the lure bait, of which not a single trace was left.

Two further times, the little ‘un visited the trap and, managed to evade capture. Last night, shortly after we’d retired to bed, I decided to create my own live capture trap. No use contemplating sleep when my mind’s buzzing so, having donned dressing gowns, ma belle et moi, returned downstairs to bring this idea to fruition. Of course, it was far from easy to work out the best positional strategy for the new creation. Our discourse on this matter proved quite hilarious, even the proposition that little H could climb up onto the arm chair and dive down, as if from the high board, to sample the delights nestling far beneath the one way opening seemed almost plausible.

My beloved muttered, within presumed earshot of the little critter, “don’t you realize we’re trying to save you. We don’t really want to bring in capital punishment!” We duly positioned the new device, in close proximity to the original live trap, and bade our unwelcome house guest “good night”.

Come early morning, young Houdini, obviously regretting the discomfort he was causing his human friends, surrendered him self to the lure of the original live-capture trap.

Having released H into the wild, we decided to err on the side of caution and, once again baited a couple of the humane traps, just in case our guest had invited more of his friends to enjoy our domestic domain.

Creature Discomforts

Reptiles, I love them, such a rare kind of beauty. That feel of silken sunshine as you handle a snake, a skink etc., straight from the warmth of its vivarium; the sensation’s just so difficult to describe. Much as I love handling reptiles, I’m not sure that I’d have the necessary skill and dedication to look after them. One side of me hates the idea that they should be captive* but, they’re so wonderful to observe. Feeding’s another problem, especially as they like live bait, ranging from crickets to mice, to day old chicks, dependent on size and species, is a bit of a turn off but, the only vegetarian lizards I’ve considered seem to have been the larger ones. Strange that I should want the reptile to be vegetarian when I’m not!

Having said that, were a reptile suddenly to slink across my living room floor, I suspect my immediate reaction would be to flee the scene. And as for the little meeces that I’d have to consider feeding them with, fresh or frozen, I love those little creatures (in their right place of course). When a mouse suddenly scurries across the room, that’s a different matter; my response proves irrational, feeling slightly queasy. Last evening, in the dining room, both my beloved and I witnessed a scampering little furry creature heading away from a packet of wild bird feed. On close inspection, I find that the little critter has developed a taste for the suet balls.

Both Helen and I kept glancing around the room as we ate our meal, looking for further sightings of this tiny foe; all the time hoping, of course, for non-sightings! A trip to the hardware shop was called for to acquire a couple of live capture mouse traps which I duly baited and, by morning one of the traps had tilted but, the carpet prevented the trap door from slamming properly shut. The live capture traps have now been placed on smoother surfaces and, I’m just hoping we have a swift capture, otherwise I might have to resort to the more conventional type of trap (which I understand has a higher success rate – but do I really want the mouse executing?). We try to keep the wild end of the garden friendly for all types of creatures; I wish they’d respect their boundaries, and ours too!

*Of course, come to think of it, there’s an apparent contradiction between my concerns about whether reptiles should be held captive, whilst no such concern crosses my mind about keeping fish in both pond and aquarium.

An earlier posting for today, Callie's Return, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'

A Matter of Chance?

No matter how much we may think we freely choose the time and place for our actions, there are times when a specific action (in terms of time and place) quite simply had to be. Yesterday was a case in point.

Regular readers of my blog will realize that so often my decision to go out, perform a certain activity etc, is determined as much by the vagaries of my resource of physical and emotional stamina as it is by my will to do so. Yesterday afternoon I had determined on a certain goal but, a choice had to be made as to whether ma belle and I would walk there (a venue slightly further than my usual brief brisk walking range) or go in the car.

The day being beautifully sunny, and noticing the pond had survived the winter with an absolute surplus of oxygenating weed, I was almost distracted sufficiently to abandon the aforementioned goal, tidying up the pond instead. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, I decided it would be better to walk to the pre-planned venue rather than do any work on the pond. It was definitely decided that we should walk, rather than use automotive power for this little errand.

A couple of hundred yards down the road, a voice called out “Malcolm, Malcolm”. We turned around and, at first I didn’t recognize the lady who was calling out. As we chatted, she told us of her worries and anxieties and that she’d lost two stone in weight through the stress of recent events. She seemed close to tears as we chatted and asked if we would like to call around to her place for a coffee and a chat.

Having performed our little errand, we called in on our way back home and sat and chatted for a couple of hours. Although it was quite an exhausting experience, well past my usual socializing limit, it was also most rewarding. By the time we left it was really great to see her smiling. The problems she’s been facing seem some way from resolution but, at least the problems have been shared.

The timing and direction of our little venture seems almost to have been pre-ordained. Yes, I had to make the choice to venture out but, I had no idea that the exercise would prove so fruitful.

Gently Does It

The penny has finally dropped. For the past week to ten days, a physical shattered-ness has forced me to retire au lit at a marginally earlier hour, although my nocturnal bed rest requirement has remained somewhere around 11 hours. Last night, I performed the task of resetting the clocks for the advent of BST (British Summer Time); I now have a strong suspicion that my biological clock was gently adapting me to this man-made leap!

Whatever the clock may say, I can guarantee that my body will continue to forcefully state when it requires rest. For far too long I’d ignored these promptings, and look where that got me!

On the general health front, things have been on a pretty even keel and, apart from taking my regular medications, I’ve been resorting far less to pain-killers. To tell the truth, the analgesics don’t seem to cope too well with the nauseatingly intermittent nature of the pains and discomforts my flesh is heir too. On the other hand, I’ve overcome the quirky guilt feelings that used to overwhelm me on those occasions when I’ve found it absolutely necessary to take them; I’ve also discovered that they can sometimes be used to make an essential pre-emptive strike against intense discomfort.

The not infrequent involuntary leg crumbling spasms, nine times out of ten, I’m able to find amusing … “look what the little bugger’s doing now!” The nagging bruising aches emanating from the armpit seem to have re-emerged with a vengeance, a couple of weeks after my last acupuncture treatment, ending in a sharp numbness of the inner upper arm and around the elbow joint.

Most importantly, I’m enjoying life as long as I accept my limitations. A couple of years back, I never even dreamt that I could feel this good again. Now I’ve just got to work on the ….. what’s the word I’m looking for …… concentration!

I rejoice and am glad in this day the Lord has made.

Thinking Aloud : Substitutionary Embryonics

"Using one as a means to an end is never justifiable, it is morally wrong!" In this instance the person speaking on the radio was referring to the human embryo,  apparently ruling out the possibility of any stem-cell research.

If using an embryo as a 'means to an end' is so abhorrent, how much more horrific is the story of a Father who allows his Son to be born, and grow to maturity, in the knowledge that the Father will send Him to a grisly death, or (at the least) the Son  lives life in the knowledge that he must die this same awful death. Such is the substitutionary theory of the atonement, a good man has to be punished (in the case of penal substitution) or else willingly dies (substitutionary atonement)  for the redemption of all. What sort of immoral ogre is the Father in the penal substitution theory?

Of course one could refer to the Resurrection as cancelling out this evil act but, by the same token one should acknowledge that a person healed from a cruel degenerative disease, as a result of embryo research, would provide a resurrection moment in response to the 'sacrifice' of the embryo!

Easter Day

By malcolme at 2008-03-22

And Was My Friday Good

AND WAS MY FRIDAY GOOD (Friday 21 March)

A dispassionately mundane retelling of the gospel account of Jesus crucifixion, monotonously narrated by Mary Magdalene, with music of a banality that makes one think that perhaps Lloyd-Webber is Verdi’s natural heir. This was ‘Good Friday Liturgy’ (BBC Radio 4), words by Carol Anne Duffy, in what the Radio Times described as having feminist perspective. If having a woman say that she saw the events, rather than a male recorder of the events voice stating what was happening makes it feminist, then ………..!

Having spent a few of the preceding hours listening to Palestrina ‘Stabat Mater’, Liszt ‘Via Crucis’, a plainsong ‘Stabat Mater’ and sections of the Verdi ‘Requiem’, the banality of this special radio production was all the more striking.

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The following is a random jotting which I failed to get around to completing or posting yesterday, presented in glorious Technicolor incompleteness.

MAUNDY THURSDAY ( Thursday 20 March)

On Maundy Thursday, a few random thoughts spring to mind concerning the Last Supper.

I’ve often felt it ironic that the last meal Jesus shared with his disciples, prior to his death by crucifixion, should have been the Passover Seder, a celebration of the Hebrews release from their Egyptian captivity; redemption and death seemed to have been rolled into one. (Pesach derives from the tenth plague when those households whose doorposts were daubed with the blood of the Passover lamb were ‘passed over’ by the avenging angel, a prelude to their release from the Egyptian captivity).

Some scholars however suggest that the meal may have been on the day, a few days before the Passover Seder, when the Passover lambs were slaughtered; this would of course have provided a more instant symbolism.

The symbolic potency of the last supper ( as Passover Seder) becomes truly significant when we realize that through the death of Jesus and the subsequent event known as ‘resurrection’, death itself was overcome, the ultimate liberation from oppression.

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A later posting for today (Friday), A Little Miracle, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'

PC Pro: News: Phorm "highly intrusive and illegal"

BT, Virgin Media and TalkTalk have all signed deals to sell their customer's data to the company, and both the Guardian and MySpace have agreements in place to provide targeted advertising on their websites.

PC Pro: News: Phorm "highly intrusive and illegal"

Mal the Aquarist

Today's blog posting, An aquarists trials and pleasures, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.