Buster interaction

I think Buster is almost ready for OAC speech buttons on the floor. I had the following postural conversation with him today:

Hey  Buster, would you like skritches (this is specifically when I take a fork to his face. Yes, I know this sounds outrageous, but he loves it.)

I offer him a choice of forks – plastic or wood. He chooses plastic.

Since he’s sitting in my chair (my half of the LaZboy we picked up at a neighbours’ house) I just barely touch the blanket (I usually pull it out from under him) and instead of it being a tussle (he usually calls and is very reluctant to move and must be coaxed) he steps out of the way, I sit down, and give him a nice long skritch with a fork. Practically took longer to describe than to happen.

I love being able to communicate with Buster. He’s an admirable cat.

IT’S A CHRISTMAS ATHEIST MIRACLE

You’ll never guess who’s back!

CURVEBEAK!

Yes, the crow with the distinctive honker has returned to the railing next to the back door, and how? and why? On Christmas of all days?

It’s all Jeff’s fault. At this point Jeff is reading this with a faint frown and thinking WHY DO I ALWAYS GET BLAMED FOR EVENTS THAT HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH ME but he was the instigating event.

Because I had threatened to make mac and cheese, and didn’t yet, he was saying well I’m not pressuring you but if you’re not going to make it I’m going to order something, but I don’t want to order what you can’t eat. I said “Order for one, if you really want something, problem solved,” but really that’s not problem solved that’s not how we do things, we family order to get additional meals, otherwise the cost per meal and delivery gets to be too much of the food budget.

So I finally (I forgot to take my bp meds and metformin at 6 this morning, didn’t get to them until 8, so I crashed hard and didn’t really shake off the doldrums until noon) got up and watched a little of the All Madden Christmas Day special (I saw him in his hotel in California shortly after John died but didn’t actually make the connection until I was back in Canada, which makes me snicker) and then even more finally dredged up the energy to make the ham and caper mac and two cheeses but in so doing I had to assess the current larder slash cheese situation and it was acceptable, except for that one fucking piece of moldy cheddar. You know how there’s aaaaalways one fucking piece of moldy cheddar. Anyway I figured it’s bright orange and crows like bright colours, mebbe they’ll see it and eat it, and if not I’ll trash it.

Ha ha

like crows are going to pass up cheddar cut up into half an almond sized chunks when it’s ass freezing cold and in between snowfalls and that, of course, is when Curvebeak showed up, sizing me up through the window, at the back of the queue, and I almost died of joy. He is a reallly odd looking crow- his head is a funny shape, it’s not just his beak.

happy Christmas everyone

Yup, a day whose importance has deflated like a cluster of birthday balloons blown into a ditch has arrived again. I haven’t wrapped a present or done any running around. I haven’t prepped a turkey or assembled the mass of vegetables to peel that oppresses the groaning board. The dining room table remains covered in filk memorabilia, craft cruft and a thousand piece puzzle (Jeff finished the edge). I don’t have to work, be responsible, be hospitable, put on a spread, worry about snax, worry about entertainment, worry about a gathering during a pandemic.

Rob W showed up briefly yesterday with firefly and snowpiercer comics! We mourned for his coworker, killed while moving poles for an electric bus (by another worker in their bus). translink is OF COURSE being remarkably silent about it and Rob, who drove bus in this part of solh temexw (remember? pronounced Sole te mawk) said he always hated doing it because you’re outside the bus and even more vulnerable than usual. I gave him a piece of Sugru (rubber moldable glue, incredible stuff I’m sure he’ll find a use for it) and two KN95 masks, one of which he promptly broke, so I’m glad I gave him two. I provided him with the address at Caspell Junction. Then he mentioned he’s got heart surgery on the docket but not scheduled yet (ablation, ouch). I warned him that COVID is severely fucking with surgery waits. Then we mourned for Tom for a while, exchanged a couple of flying anecdotes  (mine about writing a fanfic with soaring in it, and him about ‘landing out’ as in right out of Germany (he was paragliding) and walking home from France, somehow without attracting the attention of the gendarmes) and parted on friendly terms. We were both masked the whole time he was here and Jeff closed his door. Yes, I know showing up unannounced during the plague is not optimal, but what is in these parlous times and I did immediate upgrade his mask.

We both spent a minute just flapping our gums over the last communique about the plague from the government and Doc Henry. Like who the fuck cares, the hospitals are full, N95 masks are unavailable except at ‘this is what is charged during wartime’ prices, people are lining up to be tested using inadequate masks, test kits are unavailable, disabled people are left at the side of society to die unimpeded and thousands of people are at risk of freezing to death on the streets of Vancouver this week. Yup, Merry Christmas we get wished from a bubble of vacuity. Nothing she says means a fucking thing as long as universities and schools are forced to stay open. Maybe she hopes this omicron wave will burn out in six weeks like it did in Gauteng province. I’ve long since given up trying to understand the rationale for the bs.

I picked up a few treats yesterday while I was out getting my BP meds at Guardian (jammed past pandemic standards with anxious people seeking booster shots…) which included FLORENTINES four of them, strangely available at the butcher shop on 6th, Jeff asked for something caramelly and that was as close as I could get, a beefsteak for a steak and eggs brekky this am, six Timmy Hos donuts, and two handpies (strawberry rhubarb) for Jeff. So that obviously means that I walked two k in the slush and muck yesterday but the traction wasn’t bad and I was having a good balance day so walking home a bunch of groceries while I got a little out of breath was certainly manageable. I leave the walking stick by the door in case I’m having a wobbly day, but I’m getting a lot fewer of those…

Okay, time to get the steak out of the fridge and bring it to room temperature. I think I’m just going to bake it, the idea of standing to cook it for any length of time simply appalls. I’m about to blow through two days worth of salt consumption in one go, better make it worthwhile….

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