thirty-one weeks

Mouses, Peepers, you'd think that by now...

You'd THINK that by NOW you would have figured this stuff out.

You'd really think that after spendin' the last one hundred and sixty-eight million, seven hundred and thirty-nine thousand, two hundred cat seconds in a pandemic, you'd know that IF YOU DON'T WANNA MAKE EXTRA TRIPS TO THE STORE...

YOU'VE GOTTA REMEMBER TO GET THE IMPORTANT STUFF WHEN YOU GO OUT!

MOUSES!

Don't give me that crap talk, Peepers.  What I wanna know is...

WHERE IS MY CREAM?

MOUSES!

Yeah, yeah...  I've heard it all before.  I heard all 'bout how you forgot to get me some cream when you went shoppin', but...

BUT HOW COULD YOU?  HOW COULD YOU FORGET ABOUT MY CREAM?

Farts, shmarts, woman.   I WANT MY CREAM.

MOUSES!

Lookie here, Peepers, you may think you're savin' me from lactose intolerance tummy issues, but truth be told, you're actually savin' YOURSELF from...

Well...

Farts.

I DON'T CARE IF IT GIVES ME AN UPSET TUMMY!

Well, actually, I do.  Or I WOULD, if that were true, but my tummy and I have had a little chat and we've decided this whole no-cream-for-the-cat business is totally overblown.  TOTALLY.

MOUSES!

YOU'RE NOT IN TOUCH WITH MY TUMMY, PEEPERS, and don't you deny it.  I, on the other paw, have a close relationship with my tummy, and me and my tummy know best.  WE - my tummy and I - know that cats are in favour of cream.

Personally, I think this whole cream and lactose intolerance thing is a ruse.  PERSONALLY, I think it's just peeps' way of hoggin' all the cream.

Don't think I didn't notice you and Peep #2 eatin' pumpkin pie, last weekend, topped with a whole whack of the creamy deliciousness that is whipped cream.

'Cause I did, you know.  I DID notice all that whipped cream you put on top of your pie.  And I've come to the conclusion that all you cream-hogging peeps ATE ALL OF THE CREAM and created a province-wide cream shortage, that is...

Well...

Province wide.

So even though you may SAY you forgot to get me some cream when grocery shoppin', I think...

I THINK...

I THINK IT'S MORE LIKELY THAT THERE'S NO CREAM TO GET, 'CAUSE YOU PEEPS ATE IT ALL YOURSELVES.

Of all the selfish, cream-hoggin' things to do.

MOUSES!

 ***********************

And remember:

IF IN DOUBT,

DON'T. GO. OUT.

Continue to practice SOCIAL DISTANCIN' measures

AND KEEP WASHIN' YOUR PAWS.

MOUSES!

Remember to mask up, too.

Happy Thanksgiving!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYBODY!

That's right, here in Canada, this is Thanksgiving weekend. Thanksgiving Day is actually tomorrow, I do believe.  At least that's what the calendar says. Wait a minute.  Let me check on that.  Be right back.

Okay, I'm back.  Yup, that's what it says.  The calendar says that tomorrow is Thanksgiving Monday but only here in Canada.  Nothing marked for today although I know a lot of Canadian cats and peeps are having the big special dinner this evening.  Lots of peeps will be travelling tomorrow, I suppose.  Maybe that's why they do the dinner on Sunday.

When I was checking the calender, I noticed that tomorrow is also Columbus Day in the United States.  Actually, I already knew that.  Bet most cats do.  Bet most peeps do, too.

But did you all know that tomorrow is also Health and Sports Day in Japan?  I never knew that before but it says so right there on my calender so it must be true.

I would imagine that on a day called Health and Sports Day, cats and peeps should be active. Celebrate being active, in fact.  Lots of peeps here in Canada will go out walking or hiking tomorrow, I suppose .  If you have good weather and the day off, why not?  That's healthy.  It's kind of sporty, too.

I think I'll encourage my peeps to have a fun-filled afternoon of wand toys and nip mice with me. Maybe toss a ball around.  I always enjoy watching the peeps go fetch the knitted ball they throw to me.  You know, after I totally ignore it.  Ah yes, good times, for sure.

Oohhh..  and then there are the turkeys.  I've been hearing an awful lot about turkeys leading up to Thanksgiving weekend and from what I've been hearing, some of those turkeys are pretty darned big.  Cooking turkey dinner could be a sport in of itself, don't you think?  Kind of like lifting weights for cooks.  MOUSES!

For all I know, eating turkey dinner might be a sport for some, too.  MOUSES!

At my house, the turkey all comes in tins and they're never all that heavy.  Well...  individual tins aren't very heavy but I suppose that if Peep #1 were to go around lifting whole cases of those tins, it could be considered a sporting event of some sort.  I'll have to check the facts on that and see if it's something we could get into the Olympics.  If so, I bet Peep #1 could win, for sure.  We give her lots of practice, you see.

Of course we cats would continue to provide practice opportunities, for the peep, by eating the turkey in those tins which would require her to go back to the store to get more.  More tins.  More athletic training, for sure.  MOUSES!

Anyone know if the Olympic gold medals are made of real gold?  I'm wondering because if we cats were to help the peep out by eating the tinned turkey so that she could win a medal for lifting the tins of turkey and giblets, we cats would be entitled to some of that gold, would we not?  And we could use the gold from that medal to buy us a real turkey dinner.

In case you were wondering about these tins of turkey and whatnot, let me explain.  My peeps are vegetarians.  'Nough said.  MOUSES!

That's enough about turkeys.  Now let's talk pumpkin pie.

Peep #1 made pumpkin pie yesterday.  Oddly enough, the pumpkin for the pumpkin pie came in a tin, too.  Just like our turkey.  You think it might be turkey?  MOUSES!

Nope, Ol' Peepers here says it's not.  She says it's one hundred percent pumpkin.  At least that's what it says on the tin.

Ever wonder why the tins of pumpkin say they contain one hundred percent pumpkin?  Ever wonder that?  I mean, what else would they contain? Squash?

This just in...  BREAKING NEWS...   Apparently, some tins of pumpkin do contain squash.  MOUSES!

But back to that pumpkin pie.  You know, the one the peep made, yesterday.  It's in the fridge right now but I'm thinking, it's going to be coming out later today and when it does, I'll be waiting.

To tell you the truth, I'm not overly interested in the pie itself.  I know a lot of cats enjoy a little pumpkin now and then but really, I'm not one of those cats.  And although I personally witnessed Peep #1 adding whipping cream - which I love - to that pie, I also personally witnessed her adding a whole bunch of spices like cloves and nutmeg and cinnamon.  And it gets worse.  She also added... wait for it...  orange.  ORANGE.  Could you believe it?  MOUSES!

For your information, Peepers, we cats do not like oranges.  Don't like anything citrus at all. MOUSES!

Long story short, the peep completely ruined the pie but...

But I'm betting she'll be whipping up some additional whipping cream to go on top of that pie and when she does, I'm gonna be there like cheese on a nip pizza.  I'm gonna snag some of that cream, for sure.

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking, we marmalade cats were cut off from the cream when Anderson was knighted Sir Fartsalot.  Lactose intolerance, you see.

Well you'd be right about that but I'm right about something, too.  What I'm right about is that what the peep doesn't know, won't hurt her.  If the peep doesn't see me getting the cream, she'll never be any the wiser.

Of course, this does not apply to Anderson.  Andy can't have any cream.  Peep might not see him lapping up the cream but sooner or later, she'll smell him, for sure.  We don't call him Sir Fartsalot for nothing, you see.  MOUSES!

What the peep doesn't know, won't hurt her...  Remember this, kitties.  Remember it well. Comes in handy when a fur-sib brings a dead mouse or something into the house and deposits it on a bed. As long as you get that corpse out of the house before your peeps see it, you'll be okay. Comes in handy when you bring in a dead mouse or something, too.  MOUSES!

Not that I've ever done any such thing.  Never done anything like that at all.  Why... Uh...  I... Ummm...  Never mind.  MOUSES!

But turkeys and pumpkins and tins of pumpkin-impersonating-squash aside, THIS IS THANKSGIVING WEEKEND, a time for being thankful, for sure.  So count up your blessings and recognise that those blessings are all things for which we should be thankful.

Let's see..

I'm thankful for the fact that even though I won't be having a real turkey dinner on account of my peeps' vegginess, I will be having the kind of turkey that comes in tins along with their giblets, whatever those are.  I'm kind of thankful I don't actually know what giblets are, too.  And I'm thankful that even though Peep #1 totally ruined the pumpkin pie by adding those icky spices and orange to it, there will still be some uncontaminated whipped cream for me to snag when she's not looking.

I'm also thankful for having a warm place to sleep at night where I'm safe and I'm loved.  And I'm thankful that my fur-sibs are basically pretty good fur-sibs to have.  And I'm thankful that even though nosy-neighbour-cat has been hanging around my house a lot as of late, he does have his own home and family and I'm thinking he'll be spending Thanksgiving with them.

I'm thankful for this wonderful planet we all share, called Earth.  Thankful for clean air and clean water and lots of pretty scenery.  For soft breezes to feel on my nose and for the rustle of leaves I can hear under my paws.  And talking about leaves,  they're beginning to colour up nicely and I'm ever-so-thankful that I get to enjoy them at this time of year.

But most of all, I'm thankful for my peeps.  They're pretty good peeps, I should think.  Oh sure, they could be better.  There's always room for improvement, you see.  I've even given them lists of suggestions for areas where improvement might be needed but apparently, my peeps have selective reading skills or something because so far they've taken none of my suggestions to heart. But by and large, as far as peeps go, I think they're pretty darned good, for sure.  Well acceptable, at least.


And of course, I'm thankful for all of you.  I'm thankful for each and every one of you who read my blog, twice a week, every week.  I'm thankful for any of you who just drop on by, occasionally, too.  I'm thankful for getting the chance to know you and thankful that you have chosen to be my friends.  And I'm thankful that you have accepted my friendship in return.  I am thankful that together, we can all be one big happy family and when it comes to Thanksgiving, family and friends is what it's all about, for sure.

So HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYBODY!  May you spend this weekend surrounded by loving family and friends and may you all enjoy many Thanksgivings to come.

invasion of the pumpkin people

For all of us Canadian kitties, this is Thanksgiving Weekend.  That's right, we northern kitties start celebratin' early, compared to our southern counterparts.  Oohhh...  and those in Alaska who are to the north and/or west of the rest of the kitties like me.  Hmmm..  Or should that be I?

Anywho...  this is Thanksgiving weekend, also known as prime pumpkin season, here in Nova Scotia.  Not 'cause I live with three pumpkin-coloured brothers and a sister who comes super close, although she's lighter than your traditional marmalade kitties.  Lighter in colour, by the way, and not by weight.  And I mustn't forget my three calico sisters and my tortie auntie, all of whom are also sportin' the pumpkin colours.  I'm tellin' you, the marmies are takin' over. MOUSES!

But like I was sayin', this weekend isn't pumpkin season on account of the marmies.  It's pumpkin season on account of the pumpkins.  They're everywhere!

All the local farm markets and whatnot are filled to the brim with the things.  The pumpkins, I mean, and not the marmie cats.  There are still some pumpkins in fields, too.

And then there are the gigantic monstrous ones that peeps try to grow as large as they can until they're too heavy to take anywhere without the aide of a tractor or a forklift or somethin'.  Again, I'm talkin' about pumpkins and not those marmie brothers of mine although, truth be told, if Rushton gains any more weight, the peep will be needin' a forklift to lift him, for sure.

Before anyone panics 'bout Rushton's size, Peep #1 says it's okay 'cause he's obviously got some coon in him.  Like a WHOLE, ENTIRE COON, I do believe.  He's naturally big.  He can stand on his hind legs and reach right up to put his front paws 'round Peep #1's waist.  Yeah, just like a dog. MOUSES!

But back to the pumpkins.  Farmers 'round here grow those gigantic, monstrous ones for Cinderella, I do believe.  They're gonna be turned into carriages or somethin'.

Then there are the pumpkin people.  No, they're not peeps who are the colour of pumpkins like the marmalade cats.  Rather, they're peeps who ARE pumpkins.  It's true.  Their heads are made of pumpkins.  MOUSES!

And just like the actual pumpkins, the pumpkin peeps are everywhere, too.  They're multiplying.  It's like the invasion of the pumpkin' people or somethin'.  No word yet on whether or not aliens are involved however, that is a story on which I am workin'.  Again I must say, MOUSES!

Closer to home, there are pumpkins, too.  In fact, there was some pumpkin activity goin' on at my house, yesterday.  Yup, it's true. Took place in my very own kitchen.

Like every year around this time, Peep #1 bakes a pumpkin pie or two.  Yesterday was the big day.  Yes, my friends, pumpkin pies were baked.

I knew the peep was gonna be makin' those pumpkin pies and truth be told, I was a little concerned for the health and welfare of those peeps whose heads are made of pumpkin but it turned out that I needn't have worried.  Peep #1 used pumpkin from a tin.

However, when I saw that ol' tin of pumpkin, I was reminded of my recent blog post, "they are? MOUSES!" in which I came to the realisation that my turkey cat food is actually made from turkeys which are, in fact, birds.  Yes, the deceit of the tins.  Turkeys can come in tins.  Who knew?

Pity the poor pumpkin people whose heads were used in the cannin' of that tinned pumpkin.  I'm just hopin' I didn't actually know any of them or anythin'.

Anywho...  back to the bakin'.  The peep got out her tin of pumpkin in preparation for the bakin' of those pies.  I got a good look at that ol' tin and noticed that on it, it read, pure pumpkin.  Now this came as a bit of a surprise to me.  I looked at the tin and then over at the peep and said, "Pure pumpkin?  What else would be in a tin of pumpkin?"

Apparently, it could have been squash.  Non-pumpkin, squash.  Peep says some companies do that. They try to pass off regular ol' squash as pumpkin.  I wonder if that's to save the pumpkin people. Could be.  Never heard tell of any squash people 'round here.

So the peep got out her tin of pumpkin and all the other necessary ingredients like eggs and cream and spices and...  and did I mention cream?  Mmmm...

She had to start by makin' the pie shells.  Now I won't go into a whole lot of detail 'bout the makin' of those pie shells on account of the fact that this is a blog post and not the longest novel ever written in the history of catkind but suffice it to say, she made a mess.  You ever hear of fur flyin'?  Well, think about that and then add the letters l and o so that you've turned the word fur, into flour.  Yes, my friends, there was flour...  EVERYWHERE.  Peep will be cleanin' up bits of flour from now until Christmas, I do believe.  MOUSES!

That reminds me, Peep #1 has some extra laundry to do, this week.  Yup, she was wearin' the flour like it was some sort of fashion statement or somethin'. She still is wearin' a bit of it, I do believe.  I had better remind her to wash her hair today, too.  Again I must say, MOUSES!

Once the pie shells were made, it was time to start the fillin'.  She opened that ol' can of pure pumpkin - possibly made from the heads of pumpkin people whom we have hopefully never met - and spooned it out and into a bowl.  Then she added the eggs, cream, sugar and spices.  So far, so good.

But then, my friends, the peep got out a whisk.  I panicked, for sure.  Was it one of Seville's whisks? Would it transport my peep through space and time using eggbeater-whisk time travelling-teleportation technology?  Would the peep disappear right before my very eyes?

Thankfully, the whisk was a dud.  Yes, it whisked up the pumpkin and whatnot, all right, but there was no time travellin' involved.  Close one.  Whew!

After the whiskin' was over and my heart stopped beatin' a mile a minute on account of the time travelling-teleportation scare, the peep poured the pumpkin filling into the pie shells and she baked 'em.  They took a long time to bake which was good, I think, on account of the huge mess Ol' Peepers had made in my kitchen.  She needed that bakin' time to get the place cleaned up.  My gosh my peep is a messy baker.  MOUSES!

Hmmm...  now THERE'S a title for a cookbook.  The Messy Baker.  LOVE IT!  I'll have to mention that to the peep, sometime.  She could write a series.  Could even end up on television or somethin'.

In the meantime, I'm gonna be thinkin' about all the things for which I have to be thankful.  After all, this is Thanksgiving Weekend.

Right off the top of my head, I can think of a few things.  I'm thankful that the whisk the peep used was a time-travellin' dud.  I'm thankful that there was cream leftover after Ol' Peepers made those pies 'cause I'm thinkin' I might get to enjoy a drop or two.  I'm thankful that I now have three brothers even if the latest is another marmie.  (More on that in a future post.)  And, of course, I'm very thankful for my peeps.  Thankful that I have 'em and incredibly thankful that their heads are not made of pumpkins 'cause if they were, they might have been in that ol' tin of pumpkin and been baked into those pumpkin pies.  And that, my friends, would have been a MOUSES! moment, for sure.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!  Happy Thanksgiving to all the peeps out there, pumpkin and non-pumpkin, alike.  And to all the cats, bunnies and doggies, too.  HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL! To each and every one of you.