Not what I was expecting this morning as I went out the backdoor to search for Le Chat Gris and her kits: the red rectangular planterbox left in my care by The Boys attempted suicide last night during some piece of the wild wind and thunderstorm (that is still going on, thank you very much). It jumped from the rail ledge where it has lived for a bazillion years, landing in a face-plant of sorts at the backdoor step. I've fixed it so it's still viable, but coming days will tell the tale... If nothing else positive comes from this, at least I know it had water to survive until someone with opposable thumbs (albeit black ones) came along to put Humpty back on its ledge.
I shouldn't be allowed responsibility anywhere for flowers. I love to photograph them, but put them in my care at their peril.
And this wasn't even my fault.
Of course, the wind isn't the only problem. There is water coming inside from underneath the front doorway. Twice in three hours. I think this qualifies officially as a siege. Man the battlements and the forward torpedoes!
When The Boys returned to Hastings, among the items left to my ministrations was a bar of dark chocolate. Now, everyone who knows me knows about my love affair with milk chocolate and Mexican chocolate when it becomes molé, a fantastic flavour for topping pasta, chicken, or rice. Other than molé, though, dark chocolate and I don't normally get along well; it's usually too unrefined for these aging taste buds. However, what they left behind has me rethinking (at least for this brand) my view that dark only exists for those without discerning tastes. And the odd thing, it appears to be marketed by what passes for a generic brand here, "Belle France". Warning: If I find a distributor for Noir Superieur, and I can't talk a Belgian friend into his source for a specific hazelnut chocolate, I may have this dark wonder shipped to Seattle by the case. Je t'aime, Pur Beurre de Cacao, vous êtes merveilleux.
Music of the Moment:
The Penguins - Memories of El Monte
Mannheim Steamroller - Mere Image
Eclectic, to say the least...
[ 2009: the feral Grey Cat and her kits were an ongoing source of fun throughout my stay. It was obvious from the start she was in charge of a territory that included my backyard, the barn mentioned yesterday, and more than a bit of the other houses to my east. The kits were born not long before I arrived, and just as skittish as she. The Boyz (Ambrose and Les) left instructions to feed the kits, and feed them I did.
Towards the end of my stay, the little black male would actually come into the flat as far as the bathroom, about 4 feet, looking for his meal, letting me handle him only once or twice. His sister and parents never allowed such familiarity. Indeed, I saw the father with the family only a few times in three months.
This appears to be the only photo I have of Mom and her two kids together. I have many of each separately, but it was rare to see them all bunched into one spot. ]