Caoimhe likes to stick her tongue out. I don't know why.



Alex likes to stick his tongue out. I do know why: he just discovered he has one. :)

I'm a day early. Well, it all comes out in the end since I've been late before.

drjoan arrives tomorrow morning, so I fully intend to have as many things done before she gets here as possible.

I spent a good bit of time yesterday thinking about messes in the kitchen.

This train of thought was brought on by New Kitty, aka Sean Seamus, that made a big mess in the kitchen yesterday.

I've written previously about the crazy things Caoimhe will eat.

Apparently, while I've been out at university this week, they've had a kitty conference and decided to try to out do each other on eating people food.

While Caoimhe is very brazen in her stealing of raw okra, she's not really interested in what's on my plate/in my bowl. Well, unless I happen to sit the dregs of my cereal milk down somewhere.

Sean Seamus has no such qualms about my eating dish. He moves around like a boxer waiting for an opening. He's on my lap, on the arm of the couch, on the back of the couch looking over my shoulder, anywhere that gets him closer to my food.

Yesterday morning, I sat on our couch with a bowl of grits. They were beautiful grits, if I do say so myself. I set the bowl down in my lap for a second to turn the page of the book I was perusing over breakfast.¹ When I looked back to get another bite, Sean Seamus was just getting a bite for himself.

And, he had the nerve to growl at me when I tried to take it off him.

He wolfed down that bite and started to dive in for another. I made that noise...the one you make at cats when they're being bad...and he ran for the kitchen.

That'll show him, I thought and went back to my reading.

Many are the plans of man, but cats know better. Not 5 minutes later there was a disturbance in the kitchen.

I went in to find Sean Seamus on the counter trying to gnaw into the loaf of homemade bread on the counter. When he saw me, he did the flailing paws manuever, knocking over just about everything on the counters at the time.

As I cleaned up the broken glass, bread crumbs, and dried rice littering the kitchen floor, I realized this isn't even close to the worst mess we've made in the kitchen.

Here are a few doozies:

1. Both Tom and I have at various times made smoothies forgetting to tighten the bottom of the mixing jug. When we pick up the jug to serve out the fruity goodness, the mix goes all over, though mostly in a southerly direction from the open bottom.²

2. While making a sachertorte we tried beating cocoa powder into butter that was a bit colder than we thought. There are still bits of chocolate on our wall to this day. The cats have probably licked off any butter that was left after the clean.

3. My mother put some dough in a plastic dish to rise and set it in a very low temp oven. I came along to bake a cake and preset the oven temp to 375F. Needless to say, scraping the melted plastic bowl off the oven was punishment enough. ³

4. Had a compatibility problem between my brain and my feet. Ended up all but throwing a fresh apple pie up into the air as I fell taking it out of the oven. ⁴

I don't think it's just clumsiness...though, I have that in buckets. I think kitchens just beg for messes.

Any messy kitchen stories?

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¹ Shudder with fear, librarians...I eat over library books. I'm such a bad, bad girl. Okay, so it actually was in no danger. I like to think I'm living on the edge. *sighs*
² percible and neepheid may remember one of these occasions.
³ Admittedly, I was 11 and prone to this sort of bobbleheadedness.
⁴ golfbisquit and shineyquarter couldn't decide whether to cry with laughter or pick the apple out of my hair.

1. Us: ybunny leaves for Brazil today. After almost 6 months not going, I suppose it's due. Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it. We had a smallish celebration for his 30th birthday last night since he will undoubtedly be out of the country on the 11th of December. We'll try to get something together when he comes back. Probably won't be until after Christmas at this point.

2. Uni: I'm frustrated with my topic. I don't believe it. Not that I don't believe in it (I don't...), that doesn't matter. I don't need to have faith in it, I just need to think it works. And, I don't. So, it's making me a bit crazy to have to write about it when everything I write leads to a session of 'this is BS, this is BS, this is BS' chanted like a litany. I meet with Dr. S on the 6th of December, I waffle between fear that he's going to throw his hands up in frustration that I still haven't finished this chapter or hope that it will be okay to try to steer the direction a bit differently.

3. Church: Christmas comes soon. I'm working with the kids on a Christingle song and the Children's Ministries people are putting together a nativity play. It seems like the 15th of December is coming up unreasonably quickly. I also have to preach again that day. Fortunately, productive procrastination means that I've already written my sermon. Of course.
Also, I was ordained as an elder last Sabbath. At my age, it seems a little oxymoronic, but I'm happy to help, so fair enough.

4. Cats: Sean Seamus growls when fed. He's afraid of us stealing his food, or something. The problem is that he picks up a chunk of his wet food in his mouth and carries it to where he thinks we won't take it from him and proceeds to leave little crumbs of meat mush on the kitchen floor, the hall carpet, the mat by the kitchen sink, the bathmat, etc. It's disgusting. I was trying to mop up some of this disgustingness and he gave me a good swipe on the finger. So, now I have a plaster that makes my finger stiff, and by association, typing difficult. Sounds like crayolaab and I are in the same boat.

5. Chapel Choir: We're in the midst of lots of appointments. We have practice this Tuesday, then carols at the uni tree lighting on Thursday, a prison concert the same day, then church Sunday in the morning and evening, practice the next Tuesday, church the following Sunday, then practice on Monday for the carol service on Wednesday the 12th. Not as rushed as the undergrad choir I was in, but I was getting remunerated with a scholarship when I was an undergrad.

6. Socialising: I haven't seen the Ms as much as I do usually, and I don't see that improving over the next month. I really miss my family and ybunny leaving isn't a cakewalk. Luckily, my mum comes in 3 days, so I'll get some family. I feel like an enormous homebody, but I feel guilty going out if I haven't written tons. Luckily, clairdeluney coaxes me into outings, so I'm not as bad as I have been in times past. I should socialise more within my own department, but I feel like the odd one out most times and I had enough of that in grade school, thanks.

It's pretty sad that I can sum up everything going on it six points, but there you are. Wow, I'm pretty emo today.

Some photos of the new kitty are here (links is to the first of the new photos).

To move to a lighter topic than last time's post...

We have a new kitty. I'm calling him Sean Seamus. :)



He's 7 months old and already a bruiser. He also can't sit still. This alarms Caoimhe quite a bit. He looks more than a little crazy in this picture. It's the best I could do with him wanting to be everywhere at once.

I took a short video of him. Pardon my voiceover.

Hopefully, this is funny even without having seen the The Great Race.

So, I tried to be a good little person last night and go to bed early.

I curled up in bed at 11pm and set my alarm for 6:30am.

At midnight, the cat decides it's time for some laps. I roll over, pull the duvet over my head and ignore her. Cats will be cats.

At 1am, the cat is still doing laps...plus she's decided to stop to scratch the hell out of the carpet every 10 minutes or so. I hate our carpets, so it's not the destruction as much as I know that one day I'll have new carpets and I don't want them ruined.

I jump out of bed, sternly telling Caoimhe to stop it.

She goes out the catflap. 'Ah,' I think, 'soon I'll be able to get to sleep. I can still get around 5 hours sleep.'

30 minutes later, Caoimhe comes in an decides she'd like to sleep with me. She settles relatively quickly...but right as I'm falling asleep, she decides that it's time to knead my bare arm. Not on, Cat.

By this point it's around 2am.

I decide that my best option is to stick her out the cat flap, lock it, and let her spend the night outside. She proceeds to howl while sitting on the welcome mat in the stairwell.
Because I don't want my neighbors to kill me, back in she comes.

I consider putting her in her travel carrier and then shutting her in the guest bedroom. I decide that is cruel and unusual.

The cat goes in to have a bite to eat, I go back to bed.

Quiet reigns until 3:30am. I'm just at that point where I'm starting to dream. *RUSTLERUSTLERUSTLE* The loudest rustling noise ever cuts through my sleep.

I jump up. 'What the hell, Cat?' Turns out, somehow a she'd gotten a plastic bag. I don't leave them around so it's anyone's guess how it got under my bed, but she was having a ball. When I jumped up, she grabbed it in her mouth and ran for cover. I spent the next 15 minutes groggily hunting down the cat and getting the bag.

I lay back down in bed...but now I'm wide awake.

I tell myself that I have to go to sleep instead of getting up. I shut the door to my room. Again, I'm almost asleep and Caoimhe starts meowing pitifully and loudly.

'What do you want, Cat?' I plead. You've got food, you've got water, you have the ability to go outside, the litter box is clean, I can see both of your footballs (which I wish she'd play with as they're silent), and all the doors in the house are open, so you've got a smorgasbord of sleeping choices.

She finally stops after I pick her up and give her a couple of treats. (Nothing like reinforcing bad behaviour...I'll make such a fantastic parent.)

By now, it's after 5am. My alarm is set to go off in less than an hour and a half.

And it does.

And I turn it off...in my sleep.

So, now, it's 10:30am and I've done nothing.

Thanks cat, really. Thanks.

Good thing today's a Balmedie day.

I had my hair dyed this afternoon.

I love, love, love it.



( .: more photos :.  )

Now, to finish Food Friday. :)

Food Friday got a little off track last Friday. Ah, well...back on the horse.

I need to make a continuing statement to the last Food Friday.

Who do you know that has saved/bettered the lives of billions of people?
It's a short list. (And if you're speaking personally, I know no one that fits that description.)

Enter Norman Borlaug.
Called the 'Father of the Green Revolution', he made his life's work working to create higher yield crops to solve Third World hunger.

I just learned about him, so if anyone knows anything more specific about his work (that isn't on Wikipedia), please do tell.

But, about my last Food Friday: yes, I've gone organic, and yes, I do think it is a good idea, even better if it is local organic.

However, I'm also for certain genetically modified foods (GM). They seem contradictory, but I don't think it has to be.
I'm more about eating foods that have been raised organically, regardless of what their genetics are. I think that the lower amount of pesticides and the soil conservation involved make buying organic worthwhile.

If wheat is modified to have a greater yield, great. As long as that modification doesn't hurt anyone or the ecosystem it is raised in.

Modifying apples so that they don't rot for six months? Bad idea.
Modifying rice so that each plant produces six times as much? Good idea.

So, that's a bit depressing.

---

On a brighter note, and to lead to this weeks question, Caoimhe likes oatmeal.

We've had cats before that would eat various people food (in fact, one ex-stray wanted to eat anything my mum ate). None that ate oatmeal...or okra for that matter.

Weirdo cat. I don't feed her, both the okra and the oatmeal eating was a case of leaving food that I assumed she'd not be interested in on the coffee table and coming back to find her munching away.

So, peoples. Do you feed your pets people food? If so, what's a weird thing they eat?

Maybe I'm just bored, but these crazy cats made me laugh like crazy.

Here's a sample:



More here.

Me: Yeah, so black and white kitties are called tuxedo cats. I think it's just a way of making American/British shorthair cats sound more exciting.

ybunny: ...

Me: Except Caoimhe looks nothing like a tuxedo'd cat.

ybunny: No, she looks like she had one on and then ripped it to shreds.

Since I can't sleep, I'll post this for earthsister, and anyone else feeling down.



Caoimhe sings to all of you! (She's freaking loud enough to... ;) )

Caoimhe just rolled over...and fell off the couch.

Silly kitty.

Kitty went out late today. She was too dang cuddly. Plus, I was tired. She was full of crazy energy when she went since she'd been in so long.

I went down to see how the garden flowers are coming along about 4 pm and discovered that Caoimhe is a true Aberdonian.

She'd killed me a pigeon.*

Bear in mind, this cat is small. Tiny. She probably exactly weighs 3 kg.** I'm guessing that the pigeon weighed a kilo. It would be like me fighting a...well, a really heavy guy. Admittedly, I have no claws.

Silly kitty, I don't eat meat.***

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* She killed a sparrow before, but it was miniscule.
** Definitely more tramatizing to weigh myself in order to discover her weight.
***She apparently doesn't eat things covered in feathers because she wouldn't even lick the blood off her cheek and paw.

It's always fun to watch a cat try to snuggle you around a laptop.

:)

Me: *painting the wall, high up, near the entrance to the attic*

Spider: *crawls out of attic, spins web and dangles near my face*

Me: *screams and flails, about falls off ladder, generally has a panic attack*

Caoimhe: *runs from the living room into the hall, chases spider, eats same*

Spider: *dies*

Me: *shudders*

Caoimhe: *returns to living room, cleans right hindpaw, goes back to sleep*

I HATE spiders.

I've been shut up in the house since Tuesday. I've done a bunch of painting, tried to figure out what the questions will be for the Use of Bible in Theology exam, and snuggled with the kitty.

Now, it's time for a walk. The weather is beautiful...and I need more Fairy liquid.

Go, go outside today...even if just for lunch.

Caoimhe screeched all yesterday evening and night. She's currently screeching now...and has been since I let her back in. (Only out for 2 hours...)

Kitty loves Tom...kitty hates Jyll*. Especially since she thinks I've killed ybunny or some such.

When I went to let her back in, she'd tried to kill a baby bird. I put it up on the garden wall and hopefully it will recover from the shock and live. Otherwise, I'm sure she'll eat it when she goes back out.

You'd think we were starving her or something...

---

Okay, she doesn't hate me, but she definitely is ybunny's cat. Yessirree.

"Kitty! Stop trying to eat my okra!"

I've got two objectives with Caoimhe.

1. Stop her from ruining the carpet with scratching.

Solution: Catnip drops. Little pastilles of compressed catnip. She loves them. They fall apart quite easily, so I've smeared it all over her scratching post. Now she loves the scratching post. :)

Right now, she's cracked out and doing that 'lay in weird angles and rub myself all over the catnip covered object' squirm. It cracks me up.

2. Declare independence from the litterbox.

Phase one is complete. She's successfully moved into the bathroom and has gotten over her fear of the possibility of water. (ybunny, don't you dare splash her when you're here or she'll get the fear back...)

Phase two is underway. I'm raising the litter box by approximately two inches. I'll continue with that over the next week until she's at toilet height.

Then, I'll deal with phase three and four. :-|

Well, I've still got a bit of a weird feeling head, so I'm going to go do the dishes. (I always feel better doing the dishes.)

click the pic for more

I think she's sick of us following her like paparazzi. Hee.

ybunny and I would like to introduce you to Caoimhe.*



She's a purring, kneading, lovely cat. :)

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*Pronounced KEE-va...yes, it's Scottish Gaelic. It means 'beautiful'.

ybunny and I went out today to look at the kittens at the Dog and Cat Re-homing Centre in Seaton.

We found a cat, a big black tomcat with a white smudge on his nose, that loved us and purred and wanted to go home immediately.

We couldn't have him. They won't give outdoor cats to people who can't say unconditionally that it will be an outdoor cat en perpetua.

The reason we can't say for sure if it would be an outdoor cat is the busy-ness of Esselmont Ave. If we ended up with a dumb cat (a la CAT5), we won't let him out unless one of us can make sure he doesn't go out the front door. So, pah.

The indoor cat wasn't fond of me and jumped out of Tom's arms and ran back into her cage, so I guess that's a no.

Better luck next time, as they say...