Oh, hell......I guess it was inevitable that it would happen some day.
I went to the frig the other day (and knowing me you KNOW that my frig is not one of those wimpy things with nothing in it but half bottle of champagne and an orchid )......well, as I was saying, there I was peering into the frig and I realized that one of the 5327 containers tucked away for future enjoyment or saved for the fight against midnight hunger attacks had leaked. Rather then unload the entire frig to find the leaky one, I recklessly dipped my pinkie into the unidentifiable dribble and gave it a good lick to identify which container was at fault. I can only say that next time I put out a fresh offering of lovely Smoothie made of chicken soup and Friskies Mixed Grill for those ungrateful beasts who share my house and my life, and they spurn it with cast up eyes and wrinkled noses and I scream, "You ingrates, that is delicious stuff," I will not just be flapping my gums.....I will be talking from experience.
Well, I wouldn't serve it to company, but it actually wasn't at all bad.........I think I have had worse in some restaurants......
You can tell from the fact that I have chosen the above minor incident to star in today's blog, that life here is rather uneventful and my best bloggyness is still hiding. Most of my time lately has been devoted to trying not to fall down and trying desperately to introduce a 3rd female cat into a house ruled by 2 other spoiled rotten female cats. In all fairness to Gussie and Winnie, they are behaving like real menches while the new little one has the deplorable manners of an alley cat. I am occasionally a bit cheered when a few hours go by without hearing any spitting, hissing or growling or the strange trilling sound she makes when she just wants to remind everyone that she is not a cat to be messed with.
I am ashamed to say that I still have not settled on a name for the new arrival..........I usually name my cats after some ancestor or other but I have used up most of those names by now and also she just doesn't look like a Blumenthal......in fact I am afraid she is a shixa....(I am not prejudiced) but she should not go through life under false colors.........definitely not a Sarah or Fanny or Lena. I have tried out dozens of names to see how they feel rolling off the tongue and still don't have the right one yet. I began with Geegee (for Growling Girl), quickly skipped to Sugar (too bland) even tried Itsy Bitsy, Teeny Weeny, Green-eyed, Gray Haired Young Catini..........obviously too long even when shortened to Bitsy. I dunno.......the right one will come to me and fortunately it doesn't seem to matter what I call her, because when I do call her she ignores me no matter what the name.
I would welcome any suggestions, but I do not promise to use them unless it really works for both of us.
Well, here I sit rather listlessly on a Sunday morning, waiting for the Super Bowl to begin in a few hours (no, I do not watch those endless hours of pre-game hype....... I may occasionally eat cat food but I do have some standards) and am hoping it will be a good one and will dispel this strange ennui which sits heavily upon me today. In the meantime I have hummingbird feeders to fill, birds and squirrels to feed and a thousand objects in between to NOT trip over. I guess you could say that I have my work cut out for me.
The New Yorker covers: August 18, 1975
9 hours ago