Death of a Remote Control

Annie's Latest Hit - Side One
Annie's Latest Hit - Side One

This is a crime with only circumstantial evidence, a pretty clear motive, and two suspects.

Two dogs were left alone for most of the day. At the end of said day, one universal remote control lay in critical condition. The culprit? That’s open for discussion. Of the two suspects, Annie has the longer rap sheet. Guinness, the resident good dog, has not been known to chew anything except marrow bones. We try not to jump to conclusions though, since we’ve been wrong before.

We had gone into the city to see a museum with the kids, so we were gone almost nine hours. Remarkably, this was the only thing destroyed in the house while we were gone.  We’d not left them alone for so long before and expected destruction on a biblical scale upon our return. Idle paws are the devil’s playground as it were.

Of course the remote control’s death is my fault. I should have known better than to leave anything so deliciously tempting out in the open. I’d become complacent from leaving it out without incident for so long. This time though, the limits of Newfy boredom were tested – and surpassed. Alas, the remote control was within the newfound limits. The sad part (to me) is that I had just programmed it so that it operated all of our many devices just the way I liked. Such is life.

I supposed I should consider us lucky. This remote was only $40 or so. The $150 remote was safe in the drawer while the drama unfolded. I liked this one better though. We’re just happy that she whoever did this didn’t eat the batteries.

Ceramic Chew Toy
Hand Painted Ceramic Chew Toy

We later discovered further evidence of wrongdoing upstairs. As Lauren was making dinner, Colleen walked in asking, “Where do you want this?” She was holding Lauren’s hand made ceramic olive oil dispenser.

Colleen had found the dispenser on the living room couch. This was significant because we were all pretty certain that we had last seen it on the lazy Susan in the middle of the dining room table. Also significant was the fact that the jug was empty, where earlier in the day it had been at least partially full.

Forensics analysis seemed to indicate that Annie someone had carefully taken the jug from the center of the table, carefully carried it across first a tile and then a hardwood floor, then gently placed it on the couch. Annie Whoever it was  then gently chewed off the rubber stopper from the jug (apparently consuming the tasty rubber bits) and carefully consumed all the precious nectar contained therein. All without so much as a chip in the ceramic glaze.

There was no mess; no puddle of oil. There was no indication that there had been a crime aside from the misplaced decanter of oil. If Annie the perpetrator had been smart enough to put the jug back, we would have never known until we went to pour some sweet tasty oil. It might have been weeks before we would have discovered the empty container. Luckily, our dogs don’t have opposable thumbs or the common decency to clean up after themselves.

GAD

What it Takes to be a Published Author

Being a published author, I am constantly told what an amazing achievement it is. I agree, but I’ve accomplished other things in my life that were much more difficult. I have a second degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do for example. Still, there is something mystical to most people about being published that transcends other accomplishments. Perhaps we all lust for fame. Though I’m far from famous, if you google my name, my webpage or book will come up first. I guess I’m the most famous Gary A. Donahue on the Internet today. All because I’m a published author.

So what does it take to be a published author? It takes more than being a writer. A writer is someone who writes. Anyone can be a writer. To be a published author, you need to, well, be published. In my experience, here are some of the reasons that I’m published: Read More

What You Should Capture, and Why

GAD's Dad & GAD
GAD's Dad & GAD in 1970

I have a family page that is private and only shared with family and friends. It contains images dating back to 1964. This site has taken me many hours of design, coding and other miscellaneous work over the years. I first made the site in 1999 so that my mother could see photos of my kids as they grew without having to wait for me to mail them. This was a great idea because I never mailed photos. The site has grown to a 40,000 image archive of my life, and the lives of my family. It is now a cherished heirloom.

The images contained in the site from the 60’s and 70’s are, for the most part, scanned from 30-40 year old slides. Many have deteriorated over time. I have endeavored to “fix” them as much as possible, but for many the damage of years of storage is too great to overcome. It gives me great solace to think that they will now be archived as digital replicas, thus progressing my father’s early photographic visions into the age of computers. He would have been absolutely thrilled at the idea. Read More

GAD’s Digital Photo Management Scheme

1dsmarkii_586x225
Canon 1Ds Mark 2

I take the archiving of my digital photos seriously. My photos are the archived memories of my family. I have developed over the years, a means whereby I sort, store, and archive them. I’ve been asked repeatedly how I do this, so I thought I would write it up once and for all.

I use a Canon 1Ds Mark II camera which is 16.7 Megapixels. I also shoot exclusively in Raw with the DSLR, which yields files that range in size between 13 and 22 megabytes each. Each of thes .CR2 raw files must be “developed” using special software. The resulting .jpg images create an additional file of about  two to four megabytes. Then I may crop or alter the file, making a new copy of the full-sized .jpg. Then there are the web-sized versions and the thumbnails which are only 100k or so. After all my editing, each single image capture from my camera might consume a total of 25 megabytes of disk space with all copies considered – more if there are many versions. Read More

Annie and the Screen Door – Part II

The Heebie Jeebies
The Heebie Jeebies

Eighteen hours.

That’s how long the new screen door survived. We enjoyed the bug-free environment while it lasted, but alas, it was not meant to be. I know what you’re thinking. Let me help you to remove all doubt; Annie did it. This time there was no malice of forethought – no desire to do wrong. At least none that we could prove.

Annie had ruined the original screen weeks ago. I only bought a new one yesterday because the mosquitoes moved in with us. Without a screen door to keep them at bay, hoards of the winged bloodsuckers had flown into our house to feast on our warm bodies while we slept. While I’m fairly obsessive about keeping the doors locked at night, during the day they’re left open while we’re home. We don’t have air conditioning, so leaving the door open is the only way to get a breeze in that part of the house. With no screen to protect us, the insects had come a-callin’. Since Lauren had talked me out of hunting all the tiny vampires with my shotgun, I did the next best thing and bought a new screen door. Even with today’s prices, ammo would have been cheaper.

Annie is still a ferret puppy, and is therefore prone to attacks of crazed energy that my mother would call “the heebie-jeebies”. Regardless of where she finds herself during such an episode, she proceeds to run at flank speed until meeting an obstruction or simply deciding to change course. She then digs in and rebounds to run in a different direction, repeating the madness until boredom or exhaustion overtakes her. This maniacal behavior can happen at any time, but we’ve learned to expect it just after dinner. Yesterday was no exception, and Annie ran outside like a squirrel on a Red-Bull bender.

Deep in the midst of the heebie jeebies, Annie apparently decided that it was time to come back inside. As usual she ran up the 14 steps in two leaps, then rounding the corner of the deck, headed for the door. Without missing a beat, she continued her charge and leapt once more, soaring through the air towards the open door. This was the same door that had been open for weeks allowing her unfettered access to the house – the same door that had recently been covered with a new $128.95 screen.

The screen fought valiantly. Even with Annie’s considerable kinetic energy, the screen seemed to hold. Annie was the image of taught-muscled youth as she flew through the air. Her 100 ferret-pounds of mass met the screen dead center, her body crumpling into the tortured screen as the sickening sound of tearing fabric filled the air. As the door flexed under the attack, the force of impact caused the screen to tear perfectly across the bottom and halfway up one side. With the energy remaining from the impact, the screen ejected Annie unceremoniously to the deck. The battle was over; the screen had won. Though the screen had given its life to protect us from the large flying pest, it had successfully kept her out. Annie sat on the deck, no doubt confused by the sudden resistance where previously there had been none.

The screen had been here for all of 18 hours before it met its demise. Actually the screen still works pretty well, so I suppose it’s not a total loss. Because the screen tore on the edges, the door almost looks normal. Besides, now the dogs can come and go as they please through the new flap.  Marketing folks might even call it a design enhancement. My sanity on the other hand has taken another step down the very dark stairway to madness. Though I can’t see the bottom, I don’t think that there are many steps left.

GAD

Annie and the Screen Door

Annies Naughty Nose
Annie's Naughty Nose

We have a new screen door.

No I have not succumbed to pointless (and seemingly ubiquitous) “I’m making coffee!” blog entries. This screen door, like everything else it seems, is directly tied to Annie.

When we moved into our house back in 1997, the house had just been refitted with then-new Anderson windows and sliding glass doors. There are two beautiful sliding patio doors in our house; one upstairs in the dining room, and one downstairs in the family room. These sliding doors are our primary means of egress to the deck and back yard, so they are used frequently throughout the day.

The doors used to have beautiful wooden panels on the large sheets of glass. A matrix of intersecting decorative wooden strips made the doors look like they were made from 12 small panes of glass. They looked nice until Cozy learned to paw at the door to go out. Cozy eventually destroyed these strips, so for the past five years or so, the doors have been unadorned. Annie would have no doubt destroyed them anyway.

At some point in the past, Cozy had torn the screen on the upstairs door. The tear wasn’t large – maybe a few inches, and though ugly, the tear did not greatly affect the screen’s ability to keep bugs out. Then we got Annie.

Annie discovered that she could fit her pointy little ferret nose into this opening. She also discovered, that if she pushed, she could make the hole bigger! Bad dog!

I like to believe that there is a degree of decorum in my house. There is not of course, but I like to believe there are rules that was as civilized people try to follow. We all follow the unspoken rule that when having nice things, we must not destroy them lest they become ugly – or worse – useless things. Annie is a free spirit, who has no use for rules – especially unspoken ones.

One fine day, Annie was trying to get inside. I’m not sure why – zombies in the yard maybe? We do have a bit of a zombie problem here in New Jersey. Whatever the reason, Annie stood at the door, woofed her little ferret woof, and becoming impatient with our inaction, pushed her nose onto the screen as dogs often do. Annie is no ordinary dog though.

Annie the ferret-dog pushed her nose into the hole just as I walked up. “Annie NO!” I yelled as I ran up to stop her. Feeling panicked, she did what any crazed 100 pound puppy-ferret would do; she pushed.

I couldn’t get there in time. I tried – I swear that I tried. I can vividly remember the sound. The awful sound of tearing screen fabric as Annie’s black and white nose with that cute patch of white came pushing through the tear. As if watching a demonic birth, the head came next. It was horrifying!

The closer I got to the wicked beast, the more agitated she got. Being fully committed she had made her choice. In one final push, 100 pounds of black and white mayhem came through the screen. What had been a three inch hole was now a tear that my eight-year-old could walk through. Annie, now inside, wisely ran to hide behind Lauren. In the stunned silence, all that could be heard was mumbled obscenities while I stood and stared at the wrecked door.

Guinness, having been out on the deck watching, waited for the excitement to end. As if nothing had  happened, he got up, and walked through the new opening that Annie had so thoughtfully provided.

Yesterday, I bought a new sliding screen door for the kitchen. Are there any bets as to how long it will last?

GAD

Annie Gets the Apples

Annie, unable to get into the cabinet since I welded it shut (with a plastic child-lock), decided to hunt elsewhere for snacks today. While I was out writing at an air-conditioned Starbucks, Lauren and the kids went to the lake to be with her sister and nephews. Annie, who apparently had not been sufficiently fed – or perhaps entertained – still needed her snacks. A girl’s got to eat after all.

Being at war with a hyperactive 100 pound juvenile ferret makes us do things that other people might find odd. For example whenever Lauren leaves the house, she puts the kitchen trash can in the bathroom, and the fruit bowl in the microwave. That may seem strange in your house, but I assure you that it is quite normal in our little corner of the Newfy asylum.

Upon Lauren’s return from the lake, she discovered Guinness happily munching on a peach pit. What the Hell? But the fruit bowl is… empty on the counter. It didn’t even look like it had been moved.

We’re still unsure about Guinness’ role in all of this. He was found with a peach pit, so he is at least an accessory to fruit theft, but it’s possible that he simply found it when everyone came upstairs. I think we might need to set up the old Newf-Cam again.

Today’s score from the monochromatic bandit was five apples and a peach. There were no remains to be identified from the apple family. The peach pit was given a proper burial… in the bathroom where the kitchen trash remains.

GAD

Migrating from XP to OSX

Having recently bought a Mac Powerbook Pro, I had to come to grips with using a new operating system. I have used Windows XP since it was a beta in 2001. This being the end of summer in 2009, you could say that I’m a tad set in my ways when it comes to my computing tasks.

The original Macintosh
The original Macintosh

The Mac Powerbook Pro was so enticing a piece of hardware though, that I was willing to look at Mac OSX. I was no stranger to Macs having used them since my roommate bought an original Macintosh back before time began. Though at the time I liked my Tandy 1000 better, the Mac was pretty darn cool too.

Still, having one around and using one as my primary mobile computing platform were two different issues. I’m a working consultant, so I need my laptop to work – period. I also need to not be trying to figure out how to use my computer while charging my client by the hour. That’s just bad form. Read More

Annie and the Shower Trash

There is a large kitchen sized trash can in our bathroom. It’s not that we have large trash-can needs in our bathroom – far from it. What we have is a trash security problem.

Many years ago we bought a very nice stainless steel trash can for the kitchen. This wonderful container cost over $100, and has a spring-loaded latching lid. In order to open it, you push down on the top which then pops up under its own power. When you close it, it latches closed. It is an engineering work of art that serves a necessary purpose in our house. Read More

Why I Bought a Mac

Apple Macbook Pro
Apple Macbook Pro

I hate laptops. In fact I have a statement that I repeat whenever anyone asks me to recommend a laptop:

“All laptops suck – buy what you like”

The purists will note that we haven’t seen a laptop in the market for over 10 years. Laptops were huge beastly things that harken back to the days of floppy disks and orange plasma screens. What we’re talking about of course, are notebook computers. The word laptop just rolls of the tongue better than notebook does, so I, like most people, will continue to misuse the word. Besides, I use it on my lap all the time. Thanks, I feel better.

At any rate, I found myself recently needing a laptop because my HP widescreen laptop blew a hard drive and developed an LCD problem that I couldn’t live with. I fixed it up as best as I could, and donated it to my youngest daughter who now uses it exclusively for important tasks like surfing Webkinz.com. Read More