I’ve been befriended by a cat.
Wonders never cease!
When visiting a friend’s home, their cat, Roxy, takes no note of me. Nor, I her. However, I have wondered if she receives enough attention as I see her mill haplessly from this window to that, time and again, a lone wanderer in all her kittydom. I offer words of sweet nothing to my plant at home (thriving quite nicely!). Surely, I can spare a few words for a lowly cat, I thought one day last month, though, it be my very definition of a damnable adversary.
“Hey, pretty kitty.”
“Lovely furness you have there.”
“You’ve got gawgeous peepers!”
A STORY IN WHICH A DEMON KITTY FINDS ITS WAY FORCEABLY DOWN THE THROAT OF ITS VICTIM ONLY TO MAUL, CRAWL, AND BRAWL ITS WAY BACK OUT AGAIN
“Furry muffin bum,” and the like, escaped my lips regularly over the last month’s time. On the fourth day’s encounter, I was greeted with a glance and a “mreow.” The fifth day, a “mreow” and Roxy plopped down at my feet to stare up at me for better of an hour. In the days to follow, Roxy began following me about the house and has now effectively wormed her way into my good will. Or, I into hers. All seemingly from a few kind words of acknowledgment. Still, there remain moments where my heart quickens and I tense a bit in the fear of days past, particularly when she begins a slow, yet insistent, climb from my lap upward towards my face. “I’m breathing in actual kitty breath,” I think to myself and then, “I swear that cat wants in.” Recently, Bean implored me to read a short story by Stephen King, The Cat From Hell, full well knowing of my aversion to the feline persuasion. Sure enough, a story in which a demon kitty finds its way forceably down the throat of its victim only to maul, crawl, and brawl its way back out again via a nasty burrowing of the stomach. Talk about a furball! Happy to report Roxy has yet to find a way in.
I have a plan. Am currently attending a weekly bible study on the book of Esther and that means the evening kicks off with a bevy of edibles supplied by us, the attendees, on a rotating basis. Come my turn, along with something more of the tummy-filling variety, I shall take a hurkin’ bag of Dubble Bubble bubblegum. I smile with wicked glee at the thought of an entire room FULL of people just chomping away on little bits of sticky ooey-gooey, blobby-globby rubber with the thick heady wafted scent of nothing less than the equivalent of sweet pink elephants on parade! Thinking there needs to be an orchestration of synchronized bubble-blowing as well. Le Pop!
My bed broke. Would ya look at that! Slats began loosening last year and I’d sometimes awaken to a “ping!” as yet another board worked its staples loose in the dead of night. After losing the battle for reattachment via staples, more staples, nails, more nails and excessive amounts of glue, it came time for a new one. Love! Have long envied the bed of a close friend as hers is impossibly high, one must not only climb into, but onto, such a bed and I now feel like a princess, minus the pea problem, atop my very own impossibly high post. Lesson learned is, one not only looks under the hood, but apparently, under the mattress fabrication, though, it hardly rolls off the tongue the same way, yes?
Was at the library recently and upon awaiting assistance, what did mine wandering eyes but see? It’s an emu, it’s a zeppelin, it’s Captain Underpants! “May I ask whom I must speak with regarding the finding of one of those?” I enquired of the librarian renewing my card. “That would be me,” says a mildly portly man to her right decked out in an Army green t-shirt, longish waved, salt n’ pepper hair and full beard. He had pants on, too. He proceeds to give me a rundown of his collection, beginning with special edition book sets and posters and concluding with t-shirts and keychains, producing evidence of one such keychain on the spot. Not ten minutes later, I’m browsing the film section when the “pants” man approaches bearing a printed list of potential doll whereabouts. Yay! Wonderment: Do they make Captain Underpants undies?! Want. Called Bean promptly once I reached home to see if the little plastic marvel might be keeping residence in her store. It was not.
Decorated some Easter cookies this past week with my small-fry friends Samantha (Sam-a-lamma-sosa!) and Sophia (Sophster!) followed by the reading of new and marvelous children’s books. I know I’ve read them “right” with expression and various inflections when Sophie exclaims “You’we cwaaaaazy, Debwa!”
I REQUIRE A FIRSTHAND ACCOUNT, GIMME A PINK HARD HAT AND I’M SET.I
Yesterday we received a fairly nice dose of springish sunshine, so I headed to the big, big hill just down the way, following it to the tide flats, to Schnitzer Steel Industries where I was in need of some photos. Have driven and/or been driven by that place my entire life it seems, and I wanna go INSIDE. Entre vous! Pour moi. There are colossal heaps of scrapped car bodies dead and dying, their bright colors of red and green, blue and yellow, a mish-mash of metal for the processing. Next come similar piles, but the pieces are much smaller, dissected, and rusted. ALL rust! Traveling on, one sees flames projecting upward from the final mound of long expired remnants of things past. Why flames, I wonder? What’s the whole process, how long to build up a mountainous mass, how high is allowable, is the metal treated to create rust purposely, where does that final pile end up, do they ever run outta room, who pays for it all, and what’s the oddest thing they’ve ever found lurking about amongst the piles? I require a firsthand account, gimme a pink hard hat and I’m set.
Spent much of the night, late night, performing the Easter meal test. Have chosen a brisket based event versus a hamfest and am not gonna be one of those notorious folks to serve up dry and unsavory shoe leather come the big day! Hence, said test. All went swimmingly! Below, the veggies, baby carrots, parsnips, red pearl onions and garlic have just been added to a rich stock of sliced onion, bay leaf and Merlot, among others, for their go in the oven. Tip: Mild squinting on your part allows for the veggies to almost appear done, as intended. Please visually interject several bunches of strategically placed fresh green bay leaves strewn about amongst the meat and vegetables, all on a large white platter and voila- holiday merriment! Can smell that stock even now …