CodePen Challenge: del & ins tags

This is my first CodePen challenge, and the topic is using the del and ins tags.

list of greyhound myths
Screenshot of my del and ins attempt

My applied creativity level was low for this one. I have never used del and ins and had to figure out what their default styles were and how I could alter them. The examples found on CodePen are fanbloodytastic. I’d like to play more with del and ins and include animations like this one by Mark Praschan or make the strike-outs more organic like the school essay example by Halida Astatin (also has great animations). These were just a few. I had to back off the CodePenChallenge rabbit warren to stay focused.

This challenge didn’t excite me as much as others I have seen; however, since I did not know about del and ins, I found value in it. Learning can’t always be snazzy. Now that I have explored the other submissions, I could snazzy up my edits.

Personal Space: the final final frontier 

These are the potatoes of the Couchship Tooterprise. Their continuing mission: to doink new tushies, to seek out slow squirrels and new squeaky toys, to silently toot where no hound has tooted before.

My description for this blog is “critters, coding, commuting, and chaos”. I have hit three of the four Cs in this set of photos:

four greyhounds in a small room sleeping
Morning: Somewhere I’ll find a spot for a chill and a cappuccino before a day of reviewing, learning, practicing code.
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Noon to evening: We hit the living room where I code in a fart cloud. I don’t need a pomodoro. I code when they sleep, and take a break when they wake.
three greyhounds with legs entertwined
Night: All paws all the time at the side of my bed. If I’m not too worn out, I blog or tweet what I did. IFF I am not too worn out.

I have let my career change and coding interrupt my reading and crafting; however, nothing will interfere with my love of greyhound rescue. I could not code in an empty house. I do not create when my house is empty. Do they interrupt my flow? Do paws smell like corn chips? But I have feet. If I need to, I can ride to a quieter spot. There will be interruptions in coffee shops, at The Iron Yard, in the library. At least with my pack, I can use my feet to scratch and rub their bellies while I think about how to approach an algorithm, laptop on my thighs. I cannot recommend you rubbing the bellies of the loud talkers at a coffee shop. You’ll just have to trust me on this.

This is my life. I wouldn’t change a thing.

Not every failure is a bad thing

Last Saturday I took Gregory (black foster greyhound) up to Burleson for a home visit. The couple had small children and wanted to make sure that the greyhound, which they have researched, was truly the right breed for them.

Shortly after we returned to Austin, I had an email from the family. They loved Gregory but felt he was too big at this time. I could have felt heartbroken, instead I saw a family that knew that while they keep looking for the right hound, their youngest would only get bigger. They absolutely loved Gregory. It was just the size. Gregory was gentle with their children, who were in turn very calm and gentle with him. So much so that Gregory followed them around while they showed him their toys. This “failure” to match Gregory with this family was a good thing. He won them over for the breed. That was the biggest accomplishment. And they won me over for a family who would be a good match for another hound. They’re even so patient to think that they could wait a while for the youngest to get bigger. Rumor has it that children grow, so I have high hopes.

Why does a story from four days ago resonate with me today? Job interview. A biggie. A 90-minute technical interview followed by 30-45 minutes of Meet da Peeps Q&A. If I bomb this totally or even just get a few scrapes of negative shrapnel, what I get out of it is success: I got an interview! No complaints there. I have technical interview experience. No complaints there, either. And if they give me feedback along with the “Thanks, but you’re not for us”, then skipper-do and whoo-hoo! I’m worried about me, but I’m not worried about them. They did not set off my jerk-radar.

So. Here I go. Not every failure is a bad thing. There’s no place like home. You’ll shoot your eye out. Wait. No. Not that last one.

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No. Three. Three ways to kill mojo

Silly me. Why stop at two when three is a possibility?

Third way to kill mojo: bite wound on foot.

I foster greyhounds for two organizations in Texas. I love it. It makes my life a mess, but I do not care.

I also have my own hound, Fabain. He’s older than my two fosters, Gregory and The George. The only thing that makes hound mad is when he’s on the couch and they get too close. He doesn’t care if they are on the couch and he is not. He doesn’t care if one is on the couch as long as they’re butt to butt. But if they get close to his face, he growls.

This morning The George (the youngest) got too close to Fabian. He’s pretty but a slow learner when it comes to personal space. I blame his previous life:

He was kept in a pen and knew no boundaries. Never had to. He also knew no toys, so at the age of three, he’s learning all of this. It’s wonderful to see hounds from cruelty seizures improve, but there are hiccups along the way. And punctured feet.

I’ve tried to come up with something to code on my own. My favourite way of learning is starting and stopping in a day with a completed mini-app, but when I try to think of something, my mind just loops “My foot hurts. My foot hurts. My foot hurts.”

I think 100 Days of Code will take a nap while “3-10 days of code tutorials” takes over. If I watch a video and do what I’m told to do, I forget my pain. But … I’m coding. I’m just not coding the way I want to code. My code; my rules.

Two things I love

A little while back, I took a Katycation. I am an introvert. I might be a chatty introvert, but I am definitely an introvert. Many people confuse introvert/extrovert with how they appear on the outside, when it’s defined by where or how you get your energy. I am definitely one who recharges solo. I love my downtime with a book, a craft, or snuggling with a furry thing (pet, not yeti). Because my job is so far away and requires a long commute, I’ve been going nuts. I have no real time to recharge. Enter the Katycation.

The Katycation will get its own post. I just wanted to share a photo I took while there. I’d like to find someone to commission a mural or tramp stamp that is a variation of this photo. I’d like to see her on Persephone Buttercup, my beautiful green commuting machine.

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What I really love about this photo is that the greyhound is not used to show how fast something is by competition. They are together. She isn’t racing the greyhound; she’s riding along with her. After seeing this, I knew that my next wheeled machine would be a cargo tricycle. I will always adopt the oldies or mutated numbnuts (ahem, *cough* FABIAN). I don’t want to ride next to a greyhound. I’m not in the country; it would be too dangerous for me and the hound. I do want to ride with my boys, though. I think a cargo bike would be the way to go. I could take them further away. We could cycle along the river.

Sigh. More bikes. Manboy will leave me for sure.