Category: Companion Animals

My name is Miss Margot

In which I candidly admit I have nothing else less controversial to talk about.

My name is Miss Margot.  I am a tortoiseshall Persian of champion stock.  I was delivered by Caesarean section on December 13, 2009 and named after the veterinary tech who assisted in my delivery.  My face is very flat but I do have a tiny little nose.  I actually have a tiny little everything, except attitude and fur.  I weigh about 6 pounds and have very short legs, so Uncle Eddie makes me look very tiny.

The first time Eddie saw me he barfed.  He really doesn’t have much use for me, but I love him, and love licking his butt while he’s eating.  He will growl and eat at the same time which is very cute.  He gets the top tier of the cat tree, because he is old and wise and crabby. Sometimes I follow him around outside but mostly I stay indoors.  Allegra wasn’t supposed to allow me to be an outdoor cat but she thinks me going outside will help prevent me from getting fat.  I also like looking at birds.  Someday I will catch one.  I don’t think I will ever catch a rat, although I like the ones Eddie brings in.

I love paper and plastic bags…. the way they sound, and how they feel.  I especially like how plastic bags crinkle.

I like food a lot.  I eat the same thing for breakfast and supper, and sniff other things but don’t eat them.  I hate car rides and people sneezing.  I like Jeff because he feeds me and has many interesting things on his desk which sound great when I push them off onto the floor.  Catnip is okay I guess.

I have a number of cat toys, and it is my sad duty to report that Allegra does not play with me enough.  I prefer toys with feathers on them.

I like watching people do things.  It seems insane to me that anybody would expend any effort to do anything but eat sleep stare and groom, but humans are, candidly, morons.

I am not a lap cat.  I like being near, but not on people.  I’m not a big fan of being picked up, either.

I enjoy live music.  Eddie hates it and runs away, but I’ll sit close by, grooving along quietly.

I usually make an entrance if Jeff and Allegra have people over.  I come around and sniff everybody once to make sure I didn’t miss anything.

I like sitting on the back deck watching the world go by.  In the summer I like crossing the alleyway to see what’s happening over there.  I also wait to hear the sound of people’s cars coming and greet them at the door they come through because that’s polite.  Also, treats.  You never know what’s in that bag.

I extremely very much hate baths, even though when I can’t get the dingleberries off it’s the only way to go.  I get giant economy sized dingleberries, but fortunately not very often.

I love malt extract even though it’s good for me and helps me get rid of all that hair.  Sometimes Eddie comes and shoves me out of the way when Allegra gives me some so he can get some too, and I think that’s rude.  But I just stare at him; he’s twice my size and grumpy.

I don’t mew very much, but I have hundreds of other vocalizations including snuffling and munching, slurping while cleaning myself, quacking like a duck when I’m annoyed or have just exercised, snoring when I sleep, and wailing softly while Allegra brushes me.  I hate being brushed.  Fortunately it’s over really fast.  I also hate having my claws trimmed and immediately sharpen them again on Jeff’s bed.  He tells me not to but I ignore him.  He calls me Muffers and picks me up and tells me my bum smells.

My favorite tv show is Stargate Universe. As soon as I hear the theme song I come watch it.  I especially love the blue flashes out the windows and the space battles.  I also like Nascar races and my head whips back and forth as the cars go by. Sometimes I watch other shows for as much as ten minutes at a time before I get bored.

I don’t like dogs.  The dog next door, Creamy, really wants to meet me but my dance card is full.

I hate it when the bathroom attendant isn’t on the ball. It’s better in the summer, I hardly ever pee indoors in the summer.  I like sitting under the deck and getting covered in weird guck and then making somebody else clean me up.  I am a little better at grooming myself when I was a kitten; back then I’d lick myself once, see the scale of the job and then give up.

I hate the blue rug in Jeff’s bathroom. I don’t know why, but it gives me the willies.  He thinks it’s because it feels weird under my feet.

I don’t mind having my eye gunk cleaned off as long as Allegra keeps it snappy.  I can breathe and smell better afterwards and my skin doesn’t get as irritated.  She can go through ten Qtips, both ends, cleaning me up.  I super extremely hate having my ears cleaned and make a noise like an air raid siren anytime she tries.  I don’t understand why she can’t be more like Jeff, who feeds me and pets me and doesn’t poke and prod and pull at me.

Anyway, that’s enough about me, I am bored now.  Please don’t respond in kind; I have no interest in anybody but me, and possibly Eddie and Jeff and Allegra.

What’s the mileage on this thing like?

ha!

Get off the road, youngster!

My all time favourite car.

Ettore Bugatti quotes:

My cars are supposed to go, not stop (when somebody complained about the brakes).

A gentleman should have a heated carriage house (when somebody complained that the cars were cranky in cold weather).

Nothing is too beautiful, nothing is too expensive.

Sounds like a privileged white guy…. but that’s really the hankie calling the bread white I spose.

Margot and Eddie are running up and down

I showed them the full moon out the back door and they’ve been skittish ever since.

Yes, I’m up.  I was up and done making Finn pancakes at 5 am this morning.

I have cream for my coffee so the correction hasn’t happened yet.  I’m about to do a leedle bit of recording.  I really want the zombie tune done.

Mouse

I woke during the night to the unmistakable sound of Eddie meowing with something in his mouth. I didn’t feel much like dealing with it at the time, so I went back to sleep.

Later, Allegra mentioned that she had both heard Eddie and watched him. She said Eddie was clearly looking for Margot, either to let her in on the fun or to provide some lessons on cathood. It was a mouse. Apparently Eddie let it go in the basement and the two cats played with it and/or chased it around for a while.

Allegra briefed me in the morning and I started the search. If Gizmo was still with us, I might not find anything, except perhaps a very small patch of blood, or possibly a tail. What I found was Margot, in the basement, staring intently at a box against a wall. I pulled the box away and sure enough a mouse appeared. With Margot’s assistance, we cornered the critter and I grabbed him by the tail. It was a cute little thing, brown and white, apparently undamaged, and stared up at me from my hand, without struggling. I carried it outside to the bushiest area I could find and let it go.

Margot was still staring at the box when I left for work.

quhat a day

Quhat being Scots dialect for What.

The night before I didn’t contact the volunteers.  I was SO anxious and phobic that I literally could not pick up the phone.  (Most of the time I’m not affected by anxiety to that extent but making phone calls is really hard for me, and I’m trying to work out why.)  I realized that I was a wreck and went to bed.  I got up at 4:30 am, picked out and edited the poem I read for the children’s story, printed it, edited the homily a couple of times more for clarity and accuracy and printed it, went through the undifferentiated piles of emails that are the complete mess that is cooperative ministry right now and found to my surprise that I did in fact know who all the volunteers were (amusingly, Paul was supposed to do set up this weekend but he left town… Luc covered him) and they were all sober and reliable people who of course all showed up.  So my list of cooperative ministry (the volunteers who bop about the church and make things happen on Sunday morning, from the extremely amazing Sally (aesthetics) to the extremely amazing Laura (coffee) was actually accurate!

I even put in all the announcements that Rev Katie emailed me, AND put in a different graphic for the front cover AND got the order of service printed all by about 7:30.  Then I packed everything up, had a shower, and realizing I had a WHOLE HOUR before I had to get to church, so I did the sensible thing and made Jeff waffles for brekky.

Saw Margot crawl into the garden plot and flatten herself to the ground to become ‘invisible’ waiting for the juncos to come back through the quinoa.  Sorry kiddo… you ARE NOT invisible.

Went to church under overcast skies – I was the first person there so there’s that great feeling of unlocking all the doors and turning on all the lights

It’s time to play the music

It’s time to light the lights

It’s time to meet the Muppets on the Muppet Show tonight.

That kind of feeling, and then getting out the mats for the kids to sit on and helping set up the table for the altar and hauling out the podium and consulting with various folks, and watching as Sandy hauled out the enormous cart Tom made for the sound system. (Brief aside – we have hard of hearing folks in the congregation so we have a bunch of wireless headsets for amplification and all that stuff is in the cart, along with the board and the cabling etc etc.)  Then the greeter’s table is set up, and then parents come in to set up the kids (the older kids were off at a Catholic mass).  And just greeting people…. and then Tom and Peggy and Marnie show up, and music starts happening (12 string, stand up bass and piano).  Getting asked, once again, why it is I don’t consider ministry…. what am I supposed to say?  God told me not to?  I do not have a vocation, peeps!  When you get the call it’s unmistakable.  The only time I get a call that’s unmistakable it always ends badly, with me yelling “You freaking telemarketers, how did you get this number?!”  I’ll tell you why I’m not a minister…. because I read the behavioural standards that I would be expected to adhere to, like not sleeping with parishioners and ceasing to be nude in public on occasion and being somewhat less vivid and colloquial and vehement in my speech.  And don’t get me started on the drugs and alcohol stuff, it’s just unconscionable.  I’m also, not to put too fine a point on it, making the same amount of money as our current minister, who is 13 years out of school.  Ayuh.

Then it all started and it went very well.  I made the aside about being asked about which version of the Bible I was using for the verse and answering “Sheesh, Mom, what difference does it make to an atheist?” which got a huge laugh.  I have a lot of people to email the homily to.

I remember gazing at the congregation during the meditation and seeing Erin shifting her little one around trying to get her to latch, and passing my eye over all the mothers in the congregation and they (and a few of the men, truth be told) were all grinning.  They knew the feeling… after the service I went up to Erin with a mock look of distaste on my face and said, “Baby did NOT get memo about staying quiet during meditation!!!” and all the women clustered ’round her cracked up and chided me, and that’s when I told Erin how many people were smiling with their eyes closed as they heard the baby – I think she was pleased.

Delivering the homily and feeling comfortable enough to wander around the stage instead of staying glued to the podium like I have always done previously, remembering to look up often enough to connect with folks. It was easily the most attentive group evar….

Having all the handouts disappear. Anne in particular liked Carl Sagan’s baloney detection kit; somebody else, can’t remember who, saying that the little List of Cognitive Biases would make for an amazing conversation starter at Thanksgiving dinner.

Bringing strawberry twizzlers for snacks, and helping myself.

Talking, talking, to lots of people afterwards. Giving Carol a lift home in that magical fall sunshine that feels like summer filtered though dreams.

Blowing through the door like a hurricane and frying up the pork and onions for the stuffing, firing up the oven, stuffing the turkey, draping it with four pieces of thick cut bacon, jamming it in the oven, and ignoring it for about four hours. Katie calling to ask me if I’d forgotten anything and then showing up with cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie and whipped cream.  (She called ahead and offered!  I am not a failure as a parent! subtext).  I then hauled the bird out once and basted it and put it back in while Katie and I made veg.  Falling asleep on the upstairs sofa and awakening to see that Mike and Rozo had arrived, which triggered another round of Holy Crap, Must Feed People.

Final dinner arrangement;

Me Jeff Katie Mike Rozo:

Turkey with pork, onion, apple, brown bread, sage and garlic stuffing; hubbard squash drizzled with maple syrup, black pepper, garlic and allspice, boiled carrots, mashed potatoes, dripping gravy, green salad and dun tot (egg tarts from Anna’s Bakery OMG provided by Mike & Rozo) for dessert.

I came upstairs and both of the cats were on the dining room table.  Margot was inspecting the last of the gravy…. Eddie looked hideously guilty and was licking his chops rather inelegantly (his tongue was out an inch) but Katie couldn’t find anything missing.  Eddie’s expression made me howl with laughter.

I then bopped over to Planet Bachelor with Katie in tow (didn’t feel like going over there by myself) fed Kira who was most happy to see us, and then came back, watched some tube with the folks, and then announced around nine-thirty that I’d had a most excellent but also most lengthy day and I was going to have to say my goodnights.  Katie slept over and now I’m going to get up and make her a breakfast that will be awesome.

And that was my very long, very happy making, most excellently wonderful Turkey Day.

Today I plan to drink beer and wash clothes.  There IS nothing else on my to do list that I will do today.  Well, actually, if I want to keep things copacetic with Jeff I should clean the kitchen and run the dishwasher.  It’s pretty thick in there.

Oh, I lie.  After breakfast I have to run to the bank and get some money.  I think I may be buying a guitar today.

Heron Woman does it again. I do nothing for days and then explode into non stop action.  It is my way.

And the web swings wide

I am breakfasting with Paul – oatmeal – and drinking coffee.  I know I’m being a slug so I’m encouraging Paul to get me exercising so we went for a constitutional this morning.  Margot thought about coming along for the first little bit but she’s even lazier than I am.

I have been watching the world, and I am not happy with the signs.  I do not trust the future; I’m uneasy in the present and the past is gnawing at me.  Many different waves are coming at me and I am reminded of Loppe’s comment to Gelis, “Buoyancy, mademoiselle, is always an asset.”

I am hoping my mother will get some mileage out of the Henry Thomas Wake diaries – there’s somebody in England who runs a lovely blog who’s interested in them.

The homily is stalled on the notion that if you can’t connect cognitive bias to a story (without stories how shall the people live?) the homily itself will be lifeless and unmemorable.

The hymns, fortunately, are picked out and off to the accompanist, thank you Marnie!

I borrowed Mike’s 12 string Aria electric, and now I’m in the market for an amp.

Tom is working on my subwoofer for the car.  I may have to buy a new one, and it’s my own fault for letting groceries slosh around in front of the unprotected cone.

Now it’s time to get a real start on the day.  I like this getting up and going for a walk.  I do feel very awake.

Paul fixed up my bike so I could give it to Katie and we haven’t seen hide nor hair of her.  She’s been working almost every day though.

I am having SEVERE “the Wire” deficiency.  I love that show, and we can’t get more of it from Zip until we start returning things.

Jeff and I watched the Departed.  That is also a very good watch. Leo diCaprio was so visceral….

Midnight gift

I awoke last night to the unmistakable sound of Eddie meowing with something large in his mouth. One small nearby thump later and his voice returned to normal. “Yes, Eddie, I see the rat. You’re a mighty hunter. Thank you so much. By the way, you’re soaking wet. Thanks for the late night weather report.” Later, I heard Margot snorting around and discovered her playing with the rat. She paused to barf on my floor, then slowly dragged the dead rat into the small pile of barf. Thanks, Margot. Also, yuck.

Round up of events

Up at 4:30 yesterday, fed myself and Jeff breakfast (bacon scrambled eggs), then fighting with two different printers to get the order of service printed out. Got to church around 9:30, discovered we had a plethora of sound people (after my initial fears) but my karma must have just been to the spot remover, because there wasn’t a single feedback squeal all morning.  I hug them all, those sound sound people.

Lots of people out to church and we had a lovely service talking about how it is normal to be afraid of change, and we have had had a lot (as in far too much for this cowgirl), and we’ll be okay, but we have to stick together and be nice to each other.  I know, a hopelessly Pollyanna-ish take on events, but accurate, and my goodness people were thankful to have everything brought up to date.  We did our absolute best to neither minimize nor dramatize the financial and volunteer crises facing our church.  The minister was in the congregation, which provided some reassurance that the board is coping with this crisis as a unit, which never hurts.

It will be okay.

Then I took Sue to lunch at the Amelia, then I bought lemons, then I made lemonade, then I took it to Tom and Peggy (with special guest Joe, squee, whom I haven’t seen since he made his wife so spectacularly rotund) and I watched them pour concrete and then beat a hasty retreat.  Then I came back to my place and apart from a half hearted attempt to throw food into the microwave for Jeff, Katie, Keith and Paul (had them all over, heart full of happy) I didn’t do another thing for the rest of the day, oh, except take the awning down with Paul’s help.  It was full of insect eggs, so just as well.  Either moth or katydid, I’d have to look it up. I looked at the wind and sky and determined it was time to get the awning down before the weather got wetter or windier.

Now, for nautilus3, a flickrset of Birds of BC. I only know about this because Paul found a dead bird and took pictures, and be darned if I can identify it.  I may need to call on experts.

Eddie let me cut all his nails and he hardly struggled or wailed, and he made no attempt to bite or scratch.  The same cannot be said of Margot, who popped her claws into me the last time I trimmed her.  I guess Eddie is finally getting over his antipathy to me.  If, and only if, I’m sitting on the downstairs couch and Jeff’s sitting there too, Eddie will let me scritch him.  Sometimes.