Doors and Shops

That's Barbossa trying to get into my room. He doesn't realize just how big he is. He thinks "well, my head fits, so I'll be fine". I really have to keep an eye on him or he could get completely stuck, and then what the hell do I do? Can you imagine, taking the door off it's hinges so I can rescue Barbossa?
I actually had to do that, but with the library's closet door. That was when I first got him and I mistakenly thought he was a wise old snake and knew better that to try to get his big coils through a tiny, little, space. Thank the Gods it was only the closet door.

A bit of profile.

I had to bake the same cookies I baked last week, again yesterday. My sister insisted. They have become a favorite of hers, although she always tells me that none of the cookies are as good as the ones I made for Christmas years ago. These were chocolate and vanilla pinwheel cookies that I have not been able to reproduce, mainly because I have no idea where I got the recipe from. I have tried different pinwheel recipes for my sister to taste, but none of them compare to the mythical Christmas ones. I didn't taste them all those years ago (I rarely try what I bake), so I have no clue what I can add to make them the same. I know the recipe came from a magazine, probably one of my mom's Victoria or Country Living issues, but she has soooo many that I am daunted by the task of going through all of them. If any of you have great pinwheel cookie recipes, I'd be glad to try them out.
By the way, I have an Etsy account where you can order pretty much all I bake, even if it's not posted. My shop is called "Carabosse's Bakeshop", you can type it into Google and it comes up, or go directly to Etsy.
If you see something you like, in the shop or here in the blog, don't be shy, I don't bite...much.

Eyes with Legs

I'm holding Miss Topkapi in my lap right now. I was not able to take her out this morning because I had a voice lesson at 11:00. A lot of people don't like to sing in the morning because it's a bit harder to warm up, but I've always done fine. I went to a special arts high school that was really far from my house, so I had to get up at 5:30 every morning to get there on time, so I'm used to dealing with my body very early, I have to kind of reign it in and make it pay attention to what I want it to do.
It also helped to train me that, for example, in my senior year, I had my hardest class first thing in the morning. My brain was and still is, alert from the moment I wake up.

I've been reading the "Dark Tower" series by Stephen King. I'm in book 6, called "Song of Susannah", and I have just one more book to go. I'm dreading reading that last book and finishing the series. I had the same feeling, of course, reading the last Harry Potter book, and the last Dragonlance Legends volume. It really sucks, but I want to find out how it ends! In the case of Harry Potter, I was really happy to see him win (although Voldermort was pretty cool). In the case of Dragonlance, however, I was almost to the point of tears with Raistlin and Caramon (if you don"t know who these two are, please go read the books). It's amazing how much books can influence your life. For me its always been more important than movies or television. I consider books on the same level as music or magick, and for me, that's saying a lot.
I looooooooooove books!

Our Hot Saturday

Barbossa finished shedding yesterday, and he ate two mice with gusto. Right now, he is curled up in a wicker basket he has in his cage, sleeping off the meal. It's such a great feeling to have all my snake babies fed. Relief for an already anxious mind.

I still don't know what's going to happen to the carpet python that's in the center my sister works at. She has not eaten, but she is being walked every day. It's fantastic that she's getting the care that she needs, but now that she is moving around and burning calories she needs fuel. I gave my sister Pedialyte to take to work, but she's not sure if the snake drank any of it. What she really needs now is fluids injected into her system, but the "bosses" are not sure if that's the best option. No, letting an animal starve seems much better. Morons.
Apparently another vet checked her out and saw some black gunk in the poor snake's mouth, and she said "Oh, this doesn't look good". Period. No game plan, treatment options, nothing, she just made the observation a three-year-old could have made and then moved on to the next victim. Where's the protocol of swabs to be examined, blood-work drawn up? Isn't it a rehab facility, or am I hallucinating again?

Yesterday my sister and I were planning on going to the movies, but when we checked what was playing, we decided not to go to the mall. There really wasn't much worthwhile. She wanted to see "Get Him to the Greek", but since she would have had to knock me unconscious, gag me, and then drag me to get me in the theater to see it, she reconsidered. We stayed home and watched scary movies instead. Ha, I win.
We watched "The Wolfman", which we'd recently bought and had already seen. I think I'm getting old because I don't remember if I wrote anything about it. To be safe all I'm going to say is it's pretty good.
We also watched "The Exorcism of Emily Rose", which is one of my favorite scary movies. It's just very smart and different from your run-of-the-mill exorcism stories. It's also based on true events which makes it even freakier.

We also had a bit of trouble with our air-conditioner. It stopped working. Let me tell you, Miami heat indoors is not fun. We went to the pool to cool off, and then we had Coconut Mojitos. Jealous?
The air-conditioner is now fixed, thank the Gods.

Feeding Frenzy Friday Part 13

Everyone has eaten today. Tybalt of course had his live pinkie on Wednesday, so he did not eat today. Talulah was really feisty, striking repeatedly and then wanting more food. Coral shed yesterday so she was really hungry. She is getting used to being handled, now she doesn't freak out quite as much. It was funny because my mom asked me a couple of nights ago to bring her down so she could see her, and when i did she was actually scared of her jerky movements. I told her that Coral is mostly bluffing, she really doesn't bite, but she's so fast that it gives you the impression she is striking. I had to put her away. My mom actually saw her now that she is calmer, can you imagine if she'd seen her a few months ago when she was still an ophidian lightning bolt?

I just finished baking. I made cookies today. Here is the recipe:

1 cup butter
1/2 cup powdered sugar
3/4 cup chopped pecans
1/4 tsp. salt
2 1/4 cups flour
1 tsp. orange extract

Preheat oven to 350 F. Mix butter, sugar, orange extract together. In other bowl, mix flour, salt, nuts. Add to sugar mixture. Spoon into pan, bake 10 minutes. If you like, roll in powdered sugar.

Media Frustration

If you were to pick up my phone and press any of the keys, this is what you would see. The beautiful profile of Topkapi laying on my bed. She makes me smile every time I use my phone.
She's been really lazy for the last few days, not really doing much. I took her out today before I started practicing my music and put her on my bed, to see if that would get her into her exploring mood, but no, she just headed straight for my pillows and curled up. Since snakes are deaf (they do feel low vibrations), I can practice all I want without disturbing her. Sometimes I practice in the library, where my cat Ophelia lives, who can most definitely hear, and SHE does not enjoy it one bit. I've stopped doing that because it doesn't do much for my ego to see her with her ears pulled back in disgust.

Why is there nothing worthwhile to watch on TV? Really, I flip through the channels and nothing. Not one measly snake show. But it's not just right now, it's pretty much all the time. I'm reluctantly watching "True Blood" on Sundays, but it's such a weird show. I have no problem with the concept, with the gore (which does seem a little tamer this season), but when the two main characters are so revolting in every way, I really can't be that enthusiastic about it.
I watch "Dexter", which is a fabulous show, but it's not on until September. "House" is another one that I used to love (because I am obsessed with anything remotely resembling Sherlock Holmes), but that has now been disappointing me in its romantic blather. Sherlock Holmes would never be in love, tsk, tsk. But I guess they had to make House a bit more human-like.
I used to love "The Cleaner" but that's been cancelled, and "In Treatment" another obsession at my house, is on shaky ground. There's supposed to be a third season, but who really knows?
Anyway, I just wanted to get the frustration out of my system before I throw the remote at the TV.

This is why I love books.

Bossy Parents

The little blue jay baby is doing great. He is still outside in the container, and his parents are feeding him right in there. He's so unbearably adorable. The parents, however, are a pain in the ass. They have our poor dogs tortured. Anytime one of them goes outside, he gets pecked in the head, screamed at and otherwise molested by these birds.
They also stand on the chairs around the patio table and look inside, especially if I'm sitting at the computer. They face me and scream at me, ready to crash through the glass if necessary.
I was planning on taking Barbossa outside, because he doesn't have blue eyes anymore, but with those two hanging around it's going to be impossible. Barbossa would need years of therapy if a bird attacked him, and I just don't have the time to drive him to psychoanalysis sessions.
Right now a grackle came down to eat some of the food that I put for the blue jay parents, and he is also being harassed. He's looking around like "what the hell did I get myself into?" It's pretty amusing.

Improvisations

I just came back from a voice lesson and I haven't had a chance to handle any of my babies yet. My teacher (an amazing one, by the way) wants me to put together a recital, to get me back on my feet again. It's been a while since I've performed, for more than one reason, but I trust myself enough to know that I will be just fine when I get up there. I know how to deal with performer's anxiety...and hopefully I did not just jinx myself. The last thing I need is to hear the introduction to a song and faint, or fall on the floor in a seizure. The drama...

Explain this to me, my sister has asked me to bake a pecan pie. In June. I bought all the ingredients yesterday, but I still can't get around the fact that she wants a pecan pie on the first day of summer. I don't have corn syrup, though, so I am going to make one that doesn't require it. Improvisation is one of my skills.

Barbossa has still not shed, and neither has Coral. She is still blessedly in her cage, and has not attempted to escape again. Really, I promise, her cage is not substandard at all. It is actually a beautiful one, with clean mulch and fresh water. What's the problem, Coral? I am really not that bad, you could do worse.

Ok, I was almost mauled by blue jays.
I was minding my own business, baking, when I see a big blue jay land on the ledge outside the kitchen window. I thought "ah, how cute". I kept going on with my business. After three or four times of this, I thought, either the bird smells the pie already or he's a spy contracted to track me down. Since I have not committed any crimes against the avian population, I went outside to see what was going on. Below the ledge we have a bush, and there was a little ball of blue feathers. A baby blue jay. I knelt down beside it and picked it up to make sure that is was fine. Of course, it let out a blood curdling cry that had the parents on me in less than a second. I got pecked all over. I examined the baby, and he seemed fine but was still too small to fly. I looked all around for a sign of a nest and nothing. If the baby were laying in a safer place I would have left it, but I knew that as soon as I let any of our dogs out it would be inside some one's mouth very quickly.
I went back inside, put on a hat, because being pecked in the head is not fun, and brought out a container to place him in. I think the parents would have torn me to pieces if they had been able. Granted, I was birdnapping their baby.
So now he is on the big table we have outside, in the container, where he is at least safer. I left food outside for the parents to eat and to feed to the baby, and I can see them and hear them from the computer. They are really not happy, but I think they and I would be a lot less happy if the baby was torn to shreds. We'll see what happens.

Celebrating Dad

Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there in the world! This, of course, includes all the animal dads. I know that they are not known for the way they care for their young, but there are a few out there who help all the mommies to raise the babies. The only one I really knew about was the seahorse, who actually carries the eggs inside him, but I didn't know that the red fox are also excellent dads, as are the marmosets and lions. I always thought that the lions would be aggressive with the new born cubs. I learned something new.

Snakes are not known for their mothering or fathering skills. Most of the time they lay the eggs in a warm, humid spot and then leave. The one exception, however, is the King Cobra. This snake actually makes a nest, and the male and female stay together until the eggs hatch. After that, the babies are on their own. Who's going to mess with a baby cobra anyway?

Yesterday I went to see "Splice". Ok, let me say that I would really like my money back. I only paid for matinee prices but, still $6 for that load of crap?
I checked the reviews before I went. I was debating whether to see "Prince of Persia" or that one, but I always end up choosing a scary movie over an action one when I have the choice. Since I was going alone (my sister doesn't do well with scary movies) I watched "Splice". The critics were kind, they gave it a B, I think. Where they all high that day? Not only is it an insult to scientists, but I also think it is not a movie that needed to be made right now.
Do the ultra-conservatives of the world need to see a movie about humans "playing God" with horrendous consequences? No, I really don't think so. They already have enough fuel.
We need scientist to push the boundaries, to try to find cures for the multiple, crippling diseases that exist. The Gods gave us brains and free will, we need to use them. I just get so mad when people, perfectly healthy people, go on a moral rampage while so much of humanity is withering away. Priorities, people. The Gods will forgive us if we overstep our bounds a bit.

Feeding Frenzy Friday Part 12

I'm done feeding snakes for the morning. It went really quickly today.
Me: "Here's the mouse, Damascus"
Damascus: CHOMP
Second verse, same as the first (except substitute Talulah)
Coral is shedding and Barbossa is shedding, it's like the whole world wants new shiny, skin. I feel left out.
I think Topkapi is laughing at me. She is curled up in my lap, being her adorable, bossy self. She drank her water, of course, and she is preparing herself to explore her surrounding.

Remember that presence I felt a few days ago, when I was doing one of my rituals? Well, I've been feeling it off and on since then, but today it was at full force. As soon as I started chanting, there it was. It made no noise today, but still it is a bit distracting. I have to really concentrate on concentrating.
I was flipping through the chapters in the book I'm using as my guide, and I found that after doing the next ritual after the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram (the one I'm doing now) for a while, I COULD start hearing or seeing things or both. They are entities, he calls them "little nasties" that have always been around, but now, with training the magician can see them. So, I'm not going crazy, I'm just a little ahead of the class.
It's not really frightening and he stresses that they can't really hurt you. Obviously this is something that I have to get used to if I am going to be calling up and using the "big nasties" in the future.
My sister is not too happy with it. I told her about it, probably a mistake, but I love scaring her. If she thought my room was freaky before, ha, now she refuses to even go in.
I don't call myself a white or black magician, very few people are. Most of us are what is called grey magicians. We do a bit of both. It's interesting because a lot of the ones out there who deal mostly in healings are practicing a lot of black magick without realizing it. For a healing to be white magick, you have to have the consent of the person to be healed. If not, you are forcing your will on someone else's. I love stating that little fact to people who tell me, dripping with self-righteousness, "no, I only use my powers for good, you know, to heal". It's quite amusing.
Black magick, of course, is doing things to harm other people, anything when you impose yourself on someone else's subconcious. So, love spells, hexes, curses, etc.
As tempting as they sometimes are, Karma is a bitch, so I try to stay away.

But those "healers" crack me up.

Lazy Day

Barbossa has a bright pink belly. He'll shed in about a week, and unfortunately I won't be able to take him out for the next few days. He gets ridiculously scared when he gets the dull blue eyes in this process, so I don't want to stress him more than necessary.
Coral, the Queen of Shenanigans, is also shedding, so tomorrow she will not eat. I checked today to make sure that she was still inside her cage. She was, but there was a lot of mulch on the wedges of the sliding door, so she gave it a good try. Ha! Human 1, Snake 0. (I really shouldn't be so happy about besting a reptile, it doesn't speak well of me)

Tybalt ate his live pinkie this morning. My sister brought it from her work yesterday, but since she was out late with friends, and since she knows that if she wakes me when I'm sleeping I will chew her head off, she left it in the bathroom. So, this morning my baby got his mouse. He ate without problem and I can add one more reason to why I'll end up in hell.

Madness! Madness, I say!

Coral is nuts. Bats in the belfry, off her rocker, reality challenged, escaped from the loony bin, few fries short of a happy meal, spinning crop circles, off her meds, someone turned the light off in the penthouse, one plus one doesn't always equal two, coo coo for cocoa puffs, receiver off the hook, gargling with ammonia, stark raving mad.
I walk into the snake room/library this morning and I find one of her sliding doors ajar. It's only open a little bit, so I do not allow panic mode to kick in just yet. I take out her water bowl and her hiding tree so that I can stick my hands through the mulch. Of course, Coral is nowhere to be seen.
I start looking around, under the bookcase, under the desk, etc. All the obviously dark, cool spots that a snake would find attractive. Nothing. As I return closer to her cage I see a little red strip. She was wrapped around one of the large votive candles that I have on my floor. Just hanging out, waiting for the next magical activity, ready to jump in and help from her front row seat. What the hell was she thinking? Even if you hate your cage so much, Coral, why put all the effort to open a door, no mean feat for an animal without appendages, and then slither two feet to the right!? Where's your ambition? If you're going to screw with me, put a little thought into it!
Anyway, I have her safely back in her cage and I've placed pieces of cardboard on the sliding part of the door so that she can't force it open anymore. Unless she's Buffy the Vampire Slayer, that is, of which I have my doubts.

Circles of Power

No news yet about the carpet python. I know that the reptile person at the center was not going to walk her, yet again, today, so my sister was going to end up doing it. I have her under strict orders to take her out, even if it's only for 10 minutes, every day. It's not part of her job, but neither she nor I can allow an animal to go uncared for. I also ordered another live pinkie for Tybalt, which will be delivered on Wednesday.
Yesterday, I fed Barbossa three mice. Since he had eaten the same amount last Monday, he did not seem very excited about eating again. He was quite reluctant to strike, even when I positioned the mice perfectly in his reach. Finally, he took them, mostly as a favor to me, or so it seemed. I want him to get nice and chubby.

I had a voice lesson this morning so I haven't had a chance to take Topkapi out yet, but I will as soon as I'm done writing this. She must be sooooo pissed. Pray for me.

I had a strange but exciting experience a few minutes ago. As a part of the training in ceremonial magick, there is a particular ritual that must be performed as much as possible, pretty much every day. It clears the air and gets rid of any energies, good or bad, lurking around which might disturb the magician. It's called the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram. I was taught to do a simple relaxation exercise, mostly visualizing golden light around every tense part of the body, and then to go straight into the ritual. I've been doing it religiously (pun intended) and have gotten comfortable with the words and images that I have to use. It's very relaxing and I always experience a sense of lightness when I'm done. Today, for the first time, I felt something in the room with me. As I was finishing the circle of protection, I felt a very clear presence in the room. As soon as I closed the circle, I heard a soft sigh coming from the North quarter, which at that moment was on my left. Since I was safe in the circle I did not panic, but it was very surprising. I don't know if that's the usual thing with other magicians, or if I just caught some entity's attention, but I'm going to see if I can find out some information about it. Pretty exhilarating experience.

Hope

So, there is a chance I might be "acquiring" another snake. There is a debate happening at the wildlife center my sister works at. The carpet python that I mentioned a while ago, the one with neurological problems, is not being taken care of. The reptile expert who examined her prescribed three weeks of daily walks in the sun, to see if that would tempt her to eat. She has not eaten in about 20 weeks. The moron who runs the reptile department, who is not a herpetologist and who is probably in his mid 20s but with the brain of a 10-year old, is NOT following doctor's orders.
My sister called me yesterday while she was at work, because the poor python is not doing well at all. She took her out to walk, the first time in weeks that the snake had seen sunlight, and she said it was horrible to see. She couldn't find which way was up, and she couldn't adjust her body to walk correctly. I was and still am furious. First of all, it is not any one's job but his to take her out walking. That is what he gets paid for, for the love of the Gods. The poor animal is close to dying from starvation, and the person who is in charge of her is being disgustingly cavalier with her health.
There was a meeting with the person who is pretty much the boss of the facility, and my sister and her coworkers brought up the fact that I'd be completely willing to take her. They were debating whether to euthanize her because she's not showing improvement, but if she's not being given the care she needs, how can she get better? This isn't rocket science, people.
I am more than willing to walk her, like I do with Barbossa, and to sit dangling a mouse in front of her face for an hour, if need be. There are a million things I can try to get some calories in her, but I need the snake to be here, in a place where no one is bugging her, and where I can control the environment, including humidity, temperature, light/dark cycle, etc.
I am also willing to "return" her, if and when she starts eating. If they want her back, which I doubt.
They're going to talk about it tomorrow again, so we'll see what happens. I am hopeful, and I am sending all my positive energies so they'll make the right decision and give her a chance to survive.

Feeding Frenzy Friday Part 11

Everyone has eaten today. So far. I have Topkapi to feed at night, who never gives me trouble (although just by saying that I've probably jinxed it, and she'll refuse the mouse today). Damascus was of course his greedy self and wanted more food. Coral was surprisingly less hyper today than usual. I think she's getting used to me grabbing her and holding her, and it's about time. While she ate, I changed the mulch in her cage, and you can imagine the irritation when I put her back inside. She was beyond pissed that I had cleaned her cage, but it had to be done and at least for a few weeks I won't have to worry about the condition of it.

So, like I mentioned yesterday, I went to see "Mary Poppins: The Musical" with my mom. Overall, it was entertaining in a very Disney-on-steroids way. The singing was not the best, the voices were strident and hard to hear (even with microphones and only a 10 piece orchestra, at the most). The diction was atrocious, I could only understand one word out of ten. I don't know if it was the forced English accents that some of the actors had, or if it's just a case of sloppy consonants, but it is a problem when you see an actor pause to give the audience time to laugh, and there is just silence. Either brush up on diction or get super-titles like at the opera.
Mary Poppins was by far the worst of the bunch. Her voice made me long for Julie Andrews and that is not something I admit to lightly. She couldn't even dance properly. I know that musical theater performers have to be multi-talented and know how to act, dance, and sing, but do they have to be so mediocre at all three? Pick one and stick to it, like some of the more famous ones have done. No one wants to see a Jack of all trades, master of none on stage.
The two children were surprisingly good. The girl stood out in particular. I could understand her, she sang in tune, and she was a good actress.
There was one good singer in the bunch, a woman who played the evil nanny. She had a terrific voice, a grown-up voice, which was a relief after Mary Poppins's whiny-teenager's voice. I like men to sound like men, and women like women, not like children, which is probably why I always end up listening to classical singing.

The production itself was marvelous. The scenery and the costumes were perfect and the special effects went off without a glitch. At least not a noticeable one. It was a little over the top, with glitter, people flying through the air and things moving constantly to amuse the audience. I guess they think we are all ADD sufferers and need shiny objects constantly flashing in our faces. There was actually a sign outside of the theater that warned people with epilepsy about the intense strobe lights they would be using.
My mom really enjoyed it (although the singing did make her visibly wince a few times) and if I can stop being a nit-pick and a cynic for a minute, I also had a good time, and like everyone else in the theater, left singing "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious", happily stumbling over a few consonants of my own.

New Lands

Tybalt ate his live pinkie yesterday, so my evil action of the week is completed. He has to go back to eating frozen mice. Not only is it more convenient if he did, but it would also make me feel less like the villain in a fairytale, holding the defenseless mouse to be eaten by her minion and pet snake.

I also gave Barbossa his Pedialyte bath. He did not enjoy it one bit, but I did manage to get him to drink some of it, so if he is even a little dehydrated, he got a good dose of electrolytes to help him out.
I put him in a big container and I was worried of him trying to get out, like Topkapi does, crawling along the container until she finds the rim and then making a dash to freedom. I shouldn't have worried, however. Barbossa refused to move, as if staying really still could make him disappear. No such luck.
When I picked him up to dry him and put him back in his cage, he seemed so relieved. He crawled to his favorite spot in his cage, curled up, and for all intents and purposes appeared to be knocked out. Oh, the horror...

Today my mom and I are going to see "Mary Poppins: The Musical". My mom loves the movie and so she wanted to go see it. I, on the other hand, can't stand Julie Andrews so any movie she's a part of does not score any points with me, but since the musical is blessedly free of her teeth-grinding sweetness, I have hopes of enjoying it.
I have never mentioned that I sing. I omitted that consciously because it is the most integral part of my self and maybe I didn't want to share that at the time, but now I don't see why not. I've studied voice for 12 years, so half my life, and it is my passion (apart from my beautiful ophidian babies) and what I hope to do for the rest of my life. Fate is tricky, so we'll see. My main goal is to sing classically, but I also welcome musical theater or really any experience to sing. Hence the Mary Poppins field trip. I really don't know that much about the musical theater voices that are out there, I've always been so focused on the opera world. But recently I've widened my horizons, stopped being quite so snobby and realized there are some really beautiful, non-classical pieces of music out there. Step by step I am exploring virgin territory. Well, at least for me.

Strolling

That picture was taken months ago, by my dad, while I was obviously "walking" Barbossa. I have to keep a close eye on him and follow him around or he tries to get into the pool. I think I've mentioned he may be many things, but a swimmer is not one of them.
You can see I am in full relaxed mode, in pajamas and watermelon socks. Wow, this picture IS old. One of those socks has a huge hole on one of the toes and I don't wear it anymore because it's a pain to have one toe sticking out. It puts me on edge, and since I tend to live there enough to have pitched a tent, why add fuel to the fire? So, the socks are gone.
Barbossa is a truly beautiful animal. If I wanted to breed him, however (which I don't) he would not be a suitable candidate for "prime specimens". Whatever the hell that means. He has a dip in the upper half of his body, you can tell in this picture. That is a defect. It doesn't hurt him or stop him from enjoying his life, but it's not the way boas are supposed to look. It could have been caused by improper feeding when he was a little baby, but since I didn't have him then, I don't know. Or, it could be genes. Some snakes have a genetic...glitch, let's say, where they get these kinds of concave sections between their coils, or even in one of the coils.
Since I am not trying to make money off of selling his progeny, and I know he's not in any pain, I don't pay that "flaw" of his any attention, but I did want to point it out to those of you who are not as enamoured of him as I am.
(I seem to be reading Orient Express by Graham Greene. Good book, by the way)

Today I'll be putting Barbossa in a bowl of Pedialyte. He's been looking a little scruffy and the electrolytes seem to help. I've done it before with Topkapi when I first got her and was still getting the hang of a snake's humidity requirements. I had a little panic attack when she had trouble shedding the first time. Who am I kidding, more like a psychotic break, and found that some people had luck with mildly dehydrated animals by putting them to soak in Pedialyte. The unflavored variety, of course. If I put Barbossa in bubble-gum flavored Pedialyte, he would have a stroke.
I don't think he is dehydrated, but after the tragedy of CocoRosie, I'm not taking ANY chances.

A Magician

Barbossa ate his mice yesterday. I hated to make him wait that long, usually he gets his food on Saturdays, but of course PetCo was out of mice. I debated whether to try thawing a mouse for him, but even being hungry won't entice him to take what he views as a second-rate meal. I've tried before when he's gone a few extra days without eating, but he just flicks his tongue out once or twice and then refuses to do that, so I didn't bother yesterday.
Anyway, he ate three mice and today he has not moved an inch. He is stuffed.

Tybalt did not eat last Friday, he's still refusing the frozen mice, so I'm going to have to get him a little baby mouse again. I hate doing that. It feels so evil, they really are so defenseless. They can't see or hear and I'm putting it right in front of a snakeling to be eaten. The only way I get through it is by thinking that I love my snake baby more than I love the mouse baby, but still, I wish he would go back to eating the frozen ones.
My mom and my sister refuse to even contemplate the idea of what's going on upstairs in the snake room.

I'm reading a book called "Do What Thou Wilt: A Life of Aleister Crowley" by Lawrence Sutin which is, you guessed it, a biography about Aleister Crowley. I've recently taken up the study of ceremonial magick, note the spelling of magick, the "k" differentiates the type from the Vegas-sleight-of-hand magic. Ceremonial Magick is also quite different from what we call the New Age movement. It is not Wicca, which is considered "low magick". Ceremonial magick is "high magick". This doesn't make it good or bad, just clarifies the type of rituals and studies that are required to be able to perform it. Low magick was always the stuff that witches did, charms and spells, very earthy stuff. High magick involves alchemy, Thelema, astrology, etc. the stuff that requires knowledge and studying. I've practiced low magick, mainly Celtic Wicca for many years, but I've always been interested in high magick. I have a book that's been smoldering in my bookcase for almost 10 years. I got it as a gift when I turned 15, which is lessons in this type of magick. It follows the teachings of Aleister Crowley, who is still one of the most influential magicians that ever lived. He is ALSO called the most evil man that ever lived. Now, I don't take anything by word of mouth, so if he is called evil I want to know why. I want to make up my own mind about it, which is why I got this book from the library. So far, I don't really see "evil" anywhere. Yes, he is unconventional, a bit selfish, and maybe not the nicest guy to walk the Earth, but he wasn't murdering babies to sacrifice to Satan, or anything like that, so what's the deal? He did not even practice black magick (well, not much of it) and he was able to bring Ceremonial Magick back into the public eye. He also shared (because he stole them) the secret documents, rituals, and teaching of the Order of the Golden Dawn, which for magicians now is a treasure trove of information. Let's at least thank him for that.
Anyway, all of that to say that I like the book, and I like how the author gets out of the way and let's Crowley's actions speak for themselves. To me, that's a good biographer.

Spring-ish Cleaning

Still trying to get everything back to normal after loosing CocoRosie.

Everyone else is doing well. I have Topkapi on my lap as I write this and she is working her way onto the keyboard, so if there are spelling mistakes, you know who to blame.
Yesterday was a cage-cleaning day. I scrubbed, wiped, polished ever cage except for Coral's. I did not have enough mulch for her cage, so I will be doing that either today or tomorrow. They didn't have the mulch which I usually use, which is a fir mulch, so I got the only other kind they had, which was coconut mulch. I'm not a huge fan of it because it is very light, too light, so it doesn't seem to absorb moisture as much as the other kind. Oh well, it'll have to do until next time.
My mom snake-sat while I cleaned. Of course, in typical Miami weather-style, as soon as I dragged the first cage outside, it decided to start pouring. There was thunder, lightening and tons of rain. I did Barbossa's cage and then had to retreat inside while the storm passed. I did Damascus's and Tybalt and Talulah's cages in the bath tub because I didn't want to waste time.
Then, when the sun finally came back out, I finished with Topkapi's cage.
Of course, the snakes found plenty to complain about. They obviously did not enjoy the new type of mulch either. Topkapi got on top of her water bowl and did not want to come down. She kept flicking out her tongue, sniffing at the horrible, poisonous, insulting mulch at her feet, well, coils. A few hours late she had accepted her plight and was sleeping in her regular spot. Their tantrums are incredible.
Even Damascus, who doesn't have mulch in his cage, only newspaper, complained. He curled up into a ball, with his head completely hidden, not wanting to look at the disaster around him. I had just changed his newspaper, not poured hot tar on him, but you wouldn't know it from his behavior.
They are hilarious.

A Beautiful Snake

The last few days have been rough. CocoRosie died on Wednesday. I found her in the morning when I went to turn on her lamp. I don't really want to write too much about it because it still is extremely difficult to think about. She was obviously much sicker than I imagined or that even the vet who examined her thought. It's been a horrible experience and I am devastated by the loss of my little one. Anyone who's ever had a pet can understand what it feels like to see that pet get sick and die. You don't get over it easily, they are not just animals, they have become entwined in the fabric of your household. You feed them, bathe them, and you try to keep them healthy for as long as you can. Their well being and their happiness rests in your hands. That is a huge responsibility and one that weighs heavily on you when your pet gets sick. You ask yourself, was there anything I could have done to prevent this? Most of the time no, there wasn't. Animals can't tell you if they feel sick, or where it hurts, so you try the best you can to be aware of their behaviors so that whatever may arise is caught early, before it can do much damage. Once in a while, especially with the more aloof of animals, you miss the signs and you keep missing them until it's too late.

I will miss my beautiful Everglades rat snake, CocoRosie.

A Day with a Hound

That's another picture of our own, personal, Hound of Baskerville, the Brazilian Fila Vinicius. He's adorable. Sometimes, though, he really drives me nuts. I have to put him in the garage when it's time for the other two dogs to come out, because otherwise they would completely demolish the house. They get along fine, too well in fact, and they play very roughly. So, we switch them around so that we can keep our furniture intact. The garage has air conditioning and it has light, so why does the dog cry? He whimpers and pants, as if he were in the worst place on the planet. Some days are worse than others, sometimes he cries the entire time he is in there, and some days he makes no sound at all. We have still to find the reason for the spontaneous crying.
He is a sweet animal but he pesters my dad non-stop. He bullies him around, playfully of course, but a dog that size is pretty tough even when he plays around. He is also incredibly loud. Well, maybe not incredibly, since he is huge, but if he barks close to you it does hurt your ears a bit. And he barks ALL the time. If he hears a fly buzz too close to our house he is off. He continues well after whatever it was he heard is long gone. That is his job, though, so we can't really complain too much. And yet, we do.