Hell hath no fury like a cameo cat...

So.  It's on me.  It's always on me.  I am the sole keeper of this household and my life.  So whatever happens in my life - I am responsible for my reactions to it...

Simba.  Simba is one of my faithful companions.  And when I say faithful I truly mean faithful.  Through thick and thin - this mugger has been there.  He'll be 15 in January.  I have had him for 14 years.  Hard to believe how time has flown.  He doesn't act his age, but neither do I; we have that in common.

He's a peculiar cat.  And by peculiar I mean uncommon, unusual; distinctive in nature or character from others.  He is uncannily tuned into me.  He has been known to wake me up in time for a 6:00 am conference call, when I have forgotten to set my alarm.  A couple of weeks ago I was cold going to bed.  Curled on my right side, I started reading.  Simba promptly came and laid on my hip for awhile and I started to warm up.  Then he laid on my knees for awhile and as I thought to myself my feet are cold, my little mug went and made himself comfortable on my feet and ankles.  Uncanny.  I sent him a silent thank you and he took off to eat his dry food.

He 'tucks me in' and when I stop stirring he leaves.  I can hear the plink, plink of the kibble as he pulls it out of his stainless steel bowl, and eats, then he comes back to sleep on my bed usually at the bottom.  He is not an under the covers kind of feline, unless we are traveling; that is a story for another time.

Anyway,  I have been avoiding venturing out on this black Friday weekend.  On Sunday night I realized I only had two cans of Fancy Feast left.  I made a mental note to go to Kroger's on Monday to stock up on Simba's favorites - Fancy Feast classic, don't be bringing that grilled or sauced or cheesed stuff in the house - it won't get eaten.

Monday rolled around and I started in on my coding exercises.  I didn't go to the grocery store.  I went to feed the animals dinner and explained to my little (sim)baloney boy - it was going to have to be tuna.  It was my last can.  I only eat white albacore tuna.  I have bought light tuna before and found spots of color that I unfortunately have associated with fish eyeballs.  Somewhere in my imagination - it went that way.   White albacore.  I pay more for my quirky imagination.  I hope I haven't ruined light tuna for you...

Dinner was a success.  Tuna juice squeezed over George's! dry food, suspiciously colored bits in his bowl as well.  Same with Simba but he gets more since it's his dinner.  The rest goes into Tupperware and into the fridge.  I used the last of my bread and turkey to make a sandwich, happy campers all around.

Tuesday, he woke me up for breakfast.  Not too early, 8:30 is reasonable, but this little 15 lbs. of fur is persistent.  Don't go asking for another 10 minutes.  Tap, tap tap on my cheek, licking my eyelids, my forehead, the tip of my nose.  Tap, tap, tap on my arm... sigh.  George! doesn't wake me up at all.  He waits for me to have coffee, the joins me for a morning walk.  He doesn't jump into the day with four paws, he gently stretches into it; we have that in common.

Tuesday morning's breakfast started with an apology and promise that would be broken.  Tuna again buddy.  I will go to the store today.

Well, again I was on the computer all day so the grocery store run didn't happen and dinner was met with a flick of his tail and jump off the table.  Yes, he has his own table.    I tried to sweeten the pot with hot water to make it juicier and a couple bits of cheese.  Cheddar my friends, not Swiss, because Swiss will not be eaten by his highness.  He ate the cheese, he ignored the tuna, white albacore tuna, the best money can buy.

So I know on this day, today, that he is going to be even more picky, but to soothe my soul, I went through the process of putting it in his bowl.  He didn't even bother to check it out.  Instead he ran around like his tail was on fire.  I started brewing my coffee, took George! out for a pee break, then, came in, poured myself a beautiful cup of joe  and sat down to review my health insurance packet.

Today was the last day of open enrollment and I needed to make a change since I am now paying the full fare with Cobra.

Now I am not a total slacker, last night I sat down and reviewed it a bit.  Then left the stack of papers on my hassock,  cover letter page that had all the prices on it on top of the pile.  It was to be the first thing I tackled today.

I pick up the packet and the cover page is missing.  I distinctly remember, I think, leaving the cover letter on top, but it isn't there.  I page through every single sheet of paper.  It isn't there.  I look around the floor, it isn't there.  I look on my desk, it isn't there.  I look on my bed, in the bathroom on my dresser, just in case I had inadvertently carried it there on my way to bed, not there.  I am beginning to melt down completely.  Tears and all.  I have lost my marbles.  Somewhere in this wee little house I have lost what I had come to believe was the most important piece of paper I have ever needed.

I looked through all the pages of the packet again, on the sofa, on the desk, under the bed covers knowing darned well it was with the other sheets of paper.  I got out my flashlight and looked under the bed, I looked in my bookshelf, on the cat tree, in the trash.  I looked in the oven, in the freezer, in the refrigerator because at this point I am thinking I am out of my gourd, or had to be sleep walking or those aliens from the other night had walked in and taken that one single piece of paper...

I sat down and gave up in total desperation, thinking everything happens for a reason.  I am meant to have the big insurance bill, I pray I won't have a catastrophic illness, and give up with a deep sigh.

At that very moment, Simba got up from where he was sleeping in front of the hassock and walked off into the kitchen.  There it was.  My one sheet of paper that he had completely covered with his 15 lbs. of fluff.  The whole time I had been rummaging through my house, he was laying in that one spot on that one piece of paper.  How only one piece and not the full stack got on the floor is beyond me.  He did not move a whisker in my panic.

As I leaned over to pick it up, I looked into the kitchen and there he was, sitting in stately profile in front of his chair which helps him get onto the table to get to his food.  He was looking up serenely at his food bowl.

I went to the grocery store today to get Fancy Feast classic.

A person needs to have their priorities correct.  Promises to peculiar cats should never be broken.  Lesson taught, lesson learned...


Laura

ps. iloveu

I have spooked myself again...

When I was out on an earlier walk with George! it was cool and drizzling. 

I heard a high pitched sound then a zap and a bit of a boom. If I were to describe it in terms that someone could understand it would be a sound from a science fiction movie, where there is a weapon that charges (high pitched sound), is fired (zap), and hits its target (boom). I also smelled an onzoney, melting plastic smell. 

I walked around the outside of the house to make sure nothing had hit it. When I came in, my microwave was set to zeros, but the stove and coffee maker weren't blinking or reset. My cincy fioptics tv wasn't working, but my fioptics wifi was - I thought they ran off the same line, but now I am guessing not. 

I just took Mr. Tuxedo for his last walk of the night and it feels a bit warm, balmier, not raining. There is still an smell of melting plastic in the air, my neighbor came home and confirmed that. 

So I did another lap around the house, felt the boxes - nothing is warm. I came in and walked downstairs to double check again - there is no ozoney melting plastic smell there. I did find the load of laundry I washed two days ago and forgot, that's a completely different odor - argh.

So I walk up the stairs and everything is really, really quiet in the house. But the wind is picking up, I can hear it in the trees and my bell bouy bell is clanging loudly, spookily. Not in the ahhh nice rain storm little breeze way, but in the the air is balmy, ozoney, melty plasticy smelling and the wind is whipping around...

jeez...there was a beeping on Total Recall (movie I turned on a few minutes ago to fill the silence) and I have jumped a mile. 

...my, my, my...perhaps too much coffee has made me jumpy. have been working on coding exercises since 11... completely focused and hooked on them... if anyone calls and doesn't get me I might be walking George! and being abducted by aliens, or I might be working on my computer and being abducted by aliens... or hiding under the covers...asking Simba to protect me from aliens... wait a minute... where's Simba... 

Laura

ps. iloveu

Monday, Monday....

Mondays seem to come more quickly these days.  One minute it's Monday, the next it's Friday and the weekends slip through my life with barely a notice, as I have been working through coding problems and shoring up my knowledge...suddenly it's dark out and I am looking at the clock as it is marching towards late night.

My focus is a bit scattered; when I am working on one thing I am thinking there is something else I should be doing.  I have a list of items I need to cover in case I make it to a technical interview.  There is content to study for a certification exam.  There is the house to clean which always falls to the bottom of the list :) .  Then there are my faithful companions to nurture.  And there is writing.  

Writing I save as my treat for spending hours on the computer.  Writing is a treat for me right now.  

If I could only swing getting up earlier in the day there would be time to go to a coffee shop for a writing session.  I did it yesterday and loved it.  I will try to do it again tomorrow.  Yes, that is my goal.  The one drawback is that I can't take George! with me.  It isn't like San Francisco...but I wasn't writing then.  I am a little out of step with my life right now.  Maybe that's where the distraction is coming from....

Anyway - all for now.

Laura

p.s. iloveu

Soooooo….the only problem was I forgot to shred the kale leaves….

Okay so that wasn’t the only problem.  This is to serve as a warning to anyone who sees the ingredients, thinks yum, and tries to recreate this dish.  It isn’t that good.

Oh, the eggs were fresh.  Very fresh, according to the woman at the Northside farmers market – ‘washed that morning’ she said.  Well that’s fresh.  Any fresher and they would still be warm…  I couldn’t tell, since they were buried under vegetables.

I was a little over zealous on the veggies.  I decided to cut up a whole onion, 4 small tomatoes fresh, yet green, from the neighbor’s vine last week and which, now red, if I didn’t eat in the next two days would no longer be tomato but more like salsa…without the sals… it would be ah mush.

And because I have 5 onions I cut one up thinking – hey I will sauté lots of veggies and split it into two batches.  One for dinner tonight and the other ready for breakie tomorry.

And…because I am being creative, I thought rings – I will make rings out of this medium sized yellow onion…which you know was okay until I got to the last quarter. I then remembered why I usually chop my onions. 

I am a chicken with a knife.  Worried about cutting myself and without anyone here to look at it if I do cut it.  I would have no idea what needed to be done.  ER for stitches or a little Neosporin and a band-aid.  I wouldn’t be able to look.  I know from experience.  That’s a story for another time.

So, I have mostly lovely thin rings and about a quarter of the onion sized rings.  Fire up the cast iron pan and sweat those puppies.  Add salt, and pepper and celery seed.  I believe this last ingredient is because what I actually wanted was tuna fish with mayo, pepper and celery seed.

I let that run for a while until they started to get translucent.  Tossed in the tomatoes and to get them to evaporate cranked up the heat.  The water from the tomatoes evaporated and as I started moving the tomatoes around I realized the seeds have stuck to the bottom and the tomatoes are as mushy as if I hadn’t decided to eat them but left them instead on the counter. 

As I beat the eggs I realized I needed to put the kale in.  I pulled it from the stalk but left the leaves in-tack so, giant kale leaves.  I pressed them down hoping they would get soft enough to split with my wooden spatula.  Nope.  Instead of pulling the veggies out and doing the eggs separately, giving me a chance to possibly cut the giant kale and onion to scale, I poured the eggs in. 

It was quite pretty! 

Even prettier when I added the Spanish Smoked Paprika.  I glanced up from the stove and saw the spice bottle.  It was from Spain, it was great in the Paella (which I can cook, but for 12 people).  So why not…Gorgeous.  Bright yellow, red, green and paprika!

I was too impatient to let it set, so I stirred it around.  Not as pretty.  I turned it and turned it until it was well and overly cooked.  I don’t like raw eggs, I don’t like runny eggs.  That’s my kitchen M.O.  cook the heck out of anything that could poison me if under done.  Except Paella.  Paella I can cook…

I ate half of it from a bowl.  I included the giant kale in this serving.  I wanted to get that part over with.  The rest will be for breakfast tomorrow, or lunch maybe. 

Moral of this story?  Don’t bother with farm fresh eggs if you’re not going to shred the kale…or cut the onions so they cook evenly or use celery seed and …  Spanish smoked paprika.

Laura

ps. iloveu