Monday morning, at the beginning of another cold snap. Our fish aren't happy about it. The cold, that is -- they seem largely indifferent to Mondays.
We have a pond with goldfish and a couple of koi. Most of them are defective in one way or another. We have to have one or other of them inside in a big plastic tub a few times a year. For one of them, that looks to be becoming a more permanent arrangement.
Very temporary setup. The pot was to try to give her some cover/something other than a featureless tank while we got hold of a few plants.
She's had persistent buoyancy issues -- floating on the surface of the water, often flat like she's actually dropped dead -- for quite a while. We've become more zen about it over time, since we've had a vet look at her and there's nothing that can practically be done about it, but ahead of the big temperature drop last month, I noticed she had a bunch of red sores and infected patches. We got her inside and warmed her up.
They're very sensitive to temperature. Their immune systems are at their peak at something like 17 celsius. They mostly 'endure' winter. It turns out Hawthorne has a long-term health condition which just makes her extra sensitive to it, so may have to winter inside from now on.
(We've not been able to do anything about one of the others, who seems to be spending winter lying in various dramatic poses, looking sad.)
We were surprised to find the sheer level of personality that fish have. Contrary to all the myths of empty-headedness and evaporating memories. They behave as individuals, are social, and need stimulation. I don't know if they recognise us, per se, but they're certainly very aware of us, and will gather at the window in the morning, demanding food.
A jay on the bird table this morning. That's always a good start. (A Eurasian Jay, for any of you who might be more familiar with the blue jay.) Corvids apparently prefer flat tables rather than feeders. I was thinking we'd get the local magpies. But the jays seem to have staked their claim, about which I am very happy.
Archive photo. But same jay, same table.
Something can be wrong or at least inadequate on the sentence level, yet on the paragraph or page level, be faithful and correct. A rotten move in a short piece of reportage, the only move in a non-fiction book.
This resonated with me. Even writing very loosely and informally on here, it's easy to become obsessed with accuracy in miniature. Not saying the wrong thing, or an incorrect thing -- but also not saying too imprecise a thing. Which actually generally doesn't help the process of getting stuff down, nor the quality of what you turn out. Obviously there is still a need for due care and attention, but that's not the same thing as an obsessive caveating in the micro.