"We're a cartoon; we have to make it funny for
God." -- charichan, when she was four years
old, having already figured out the meaning of life. (It's
still the best answer I've ever heard.)
Daphne Eftychia Arthur, guitarist+. Jul. 19th, 2004.
"We're a cartoon; we have to make it funny for
God." -- charichan, when she was four years
old, having already figured out the meaning of life. (It's
still the best answer I've ever heard.)
I'd been out of the house for a few days, visiting
anniemal and then going to a photo shoot for
The Homespun Ceilidh
Band, so I expected Perrine to be a) annoyed that I'd been
gone so long, b) glad to see me again and afraid to let me out
of her sight, and c) thrilled to finally have the brand of cat
food she likes (which I had run out of) instead of the various
kinds she Eventually Grudgingly Tolerates Once Convinced The
Good Stuff Is Truly Gone. I'd worried about Perrine a bit, as
I'd left fewer windows open than usual in case of thunderstorms
while I was away, and I was worried about how hot the house
would get.
I arrived home after the photo shoot. Perrine did not greet me at the door. She waited for me to open the door and gave -- very distinctly and unmistakeably -- the "Help, I'm trapped and in grave distress and/or I'm deathly ill" meow. The plaintive, weak kitten meow. She made that sound several times before she slipped up and made a slightly different one ("where are you" or "please come here"; it was a little vague), but then she went back to the "I've been trapped for two days under a bookcase with a broken leg" meow.
She was standing in the dining room looking into the front hallway.
As soon as I set foot into the hallway, she RAN to the kitchen...
...Where she still had half a bowl of one kind of food, a quarter of a bowl of another, and sufficient water.
I gave in. I gave her some of The Good Stuff as soon as I'd gotten everything out of the car. I'm weak. She acted very hungry eating it. (She probably was hungry; she'd probably been eating as little as possible of the food that was there, hoping I'd come home bearing The Good Stuff. She'll eat other food, but it takes her a while to get around to it.
But I'm still both impressed and annoyed at how she got me with that "I'm trapped" meow until I saw where she was
Later, as I was falling asleep, we played with the laser pointer for a little while. When my wrist got tired (yeah, I was that tired), I turned it off and Perrine started looking for where the little red dot had gone, and in the process she found one of her fluffy toy mice, which she started playing with more vigorously than she had been stalking the pointer. That got me wondering: how much does she play with her toys when I'm not around? Does she sleep/hunt/mope when I'm gone and only play when I'm near, or does she amuse herself with play when she's alone? Someday I'll have to set up the video camera and find out.
I just ate a bag of microwave popcorn. At the bottom were four cracked-but-not-popped kernels, which I crunched with satisfaction, and a mere fifteen completely unpopped kernels. Not bad. (It was decent popcorn, too (though not great), and pretty inexpensive IIRC.)
Before I forget, here's a cute picture.
And a confession: I'm now nosily curious as to
silmaril's
comfort food. None of my business, I know; but my brain is
itching. Oh well. I'll distract myself with a meme.
Okay, I think I may be awake enough to start doing something real now.
It is difficult to eat a stuffed grape leaf (dolma).
Eating two or three is much easier. So care must be taken not to leave a single lonely dolma to be finished off later. I suppose eating a single one might be a little easier to do when there isn't another next to it. But I don't know that I'm willing to risk that frustration, my mouth asking my brain, "Okay wiseguy, where's the next one?" Much safer, if there are three left, to eat all three.
If one is distracted by conversation, eating six or eight dolmades (or "dolmas" depending on what language you form the plural in) without meaning to is not unlikely. Or an entire package of them. ("Oh, those were meant to just be an appetizer? Whoops.")
(For the record, I have repeatedly demonstrated my ability to eat a single potato chip or a single peanut. So there.)
I'm going to have to learn how to roll my own. I wonder how hard it is to get the leaves to stay tucked/folded correctly.