It’s probably a cricket anyway… actually the cats were right

Tonight, I’ve left the hunters to their own devices;

I’ve headed early to bed with hot milk, hoping for sleep.

Behind me, the cats huddle in pairs,

Furry bodies pressed against the floors,

Eyes fixed beneath the plant stand.

From tails to shoulders… they prey for mice,

While I — emphatically — pray for none.

– rjn © September 6, 2011

PS: it isn’t often that 2 of the cats decide to hunt together. I don’t know if I should be intrigued or concerned.

PPS: Dateline one half hour into September 7th. I have removed the mouse using an upended jelly jar and pushing it along the floor — the little invader had to run run run his little legs while i slid the jar over him and marched him out the back door. All 3 cats’ prayer lives are evidently more effective than mine. However, I got to play deus ex machina while alternating between praising the cats and saying “icky icky icky.”

small simple things

Some very nice, small, simple surprises that made the day better

• Cats who forgave me for leaving for a week
• On the coffeemaker — a yellow sticky note with a heart drawn on it
• 1 hour of a beautiful sunset, after terrible storms
• Making baked apples in a microwave

I can’t give you any of the other 3 lovely surprises, but I can give you my “recipe” for using up a few of last year’s apples.

1. Pare off any bits of apple that are unappealing (wormholes, bruised bits, anything mealy, stem, and core). In this case, last year’s apples came from a really good orchard, with an interesting selection of sweet and tart ones. (No red delicious, yellow delicious, or galas in the batch this time.)
2. Slice the bits of apple. Removing the peel is optional. Put in a microwave safe baking dish.
3. Add a little bit of water, a splash of lime juice, about 1/8 cup of brown sugar (depends on amount of salvaged apple bits), and a splash of maple syrup.
4. Sprinkle with cinnamon.
5. Put in microwave oven with the lid off. Cook for 5 minutes on high. Take out to mush around and try to get off peels.
6. Put raisins in the dish to soak up liquid, then put baking dish back in for another 5 minutes on high.

Serve with small scoops of vanilla ice cream.

Not much of a recipe, but it doesn’t heat up the whole kitchen. Wishing you a lovely sunset tomorrow.

 

 

The princess, ready for her closeup

The princess, ready for her closeup, a photo by rjknits on Flickr.

My supervisor has settled in to her daily task of making sure I type in my office.

Now know who owns the jeans in the family

… it’s the cat who manages to drag the black jeans off the laundry rack, so she can sit on them, happily kneading the fabric. I’m looking at you, Miss Thing/Cata Hari (nicknames, not real knicknames). She’s still spying on me while I’m typing on the computer. Her mental voiceover has changed from “WHY?” to “What can I make it do?” and “Why is it staring at that screen?” So, does anyone else find their cats decide to take matters into their own paws and make their own catbed? She has one in a different room, of course.

The Eyes of Reproach

Short algorithm

A miserable rainy drive home with sopping wet feet, followed by a cat getting sick in my office, makes me very happy for hot cocoa with a small splash of nut liqueur.  Lovely.

 

Small furry spies amongst us

The Eyes of Reproach

The disaffected Himalayan-Persian mix cat has habits that indicate she is either

• a spy
• a student taking cultural anthropology classes

Facts that support the theory that she is a small Cata Hari:

1. She’s always watching. [Think Santa Claus in a little mink outfit with dark brown gloves and boots staring at you.]
2. She has learned to use bags hung on chairs as cover.
3. She stares at sleeping people from the hallways.
4. She pretends she does not understand anything anyone says.
5. She sits on the landing so she can keep an eye on people upstairs and people on the second floor.
6. She has an ultimate secret weapon that she wields occasionally when she feels threatened.*

Reasons that support the idea of the cat taking computer courses in cultural anthropology:

1. All of the above except number 6.

So she’s probably a small, soft, sofa of a cat who is in training to be the next Jane Bond with Carol Channing’s stage dresser.

* Her “final solution”: Thinking outside the box, mercifully only on linoleum so far.

Scenes from the Holidays

From Green Eyes of desire (wild-eyed beneath the Christmas tree), to ornaments under green boughs, and packages tied up with bows, it has been a colorful season.

Hope one of the shiny presents underneath your tree is filled with a peaceful, calm, and blessed 2010. A few hopeful signs for the workers and those looking for work would be nice too.

Ol’ Green Eyes hopes for a mouse for every cat this year.

We have been helped greatly by the grey interloper

“It is always easier to knit when your instructions are underneath an impenetrable, fuzzy, breathing wall. Cats know this. Knitters need to accept this.” Thus spake the Cat with great gravitas.

Quote the knitter, “Ack! Get out of my way! Stop playing with my stitch markers.”

[Purring from the cat. Then he hops off the bag with the knitting*, the instructions, and my knees, his work done.]

*Yes, that’s the Honeycomb vest and its instructions, waiting for me to be able to find out what I did wrong. I’ve knit the same 5 rows over and over again. If this piece doesn’t work, it won’t be for want of trying and then dawdling.

Cats forgive slowly

They hold resentments, flicking

Tails:  children on a hot day

Kicking at the steps.

Demanding ice cream.

Embracing drawn-out disdain. – © rn, WordTapestry, 2009

[we had visitors, including 2 small boys with light-up sneakers. Oh, the poor cats.]

Cats and the new toy

I got a new camera, and so far all I’ve managed to do is annoy the cats with the bright light.

The Eyes of Reproach

Think she’ll forgive me?