Deal
One night while walking our Mira about 7 years ago, we stumbled on a dead cat (the poor thing had been hit by a car). When we got home I called the city rangers to ask them to come get him (even dead I couldn’t bear the thought he would be out there through the night).
The ranger couldn’t come. I insisted, saying there was little to no dignity in said dead cat being left out where he was, most likely for up to 3 days (these things always happen at the start of a long weekend). The ranger said: ‘You could go get him and take him to the animal hospital’. I said: ‘I might just do that’ (it sounded like a dare to me). So we did: we went back, put the cat in a box, and drove him to the animal hospital. With all windows down because, well, he smelt kind of bad. And we never really managed to get rid of that dead cat smell in our car (we have since then sold it, so no word on whether 7 years on it still smells).
Christian said: ‘Promise me that we won’t drive anything else that’s dead in our car, ever again’. I said ‘Deal’.
Last night Christian and Mira found a little baby bird that had fallen out of his nest. Not dead! He qualified for getting in the car. I got attached and named him William. William sadly died later that night at the animal hospital, but with a full belly and in a warm blanket. I am both devastated but okay with it. C’est la vie.
Corn crumbed tofu and some dessert!
Not much time and not much inspiration means errrrr… this.
But the little strawberry jam croissants (which I made for knitting night some time ago) were nice. In fact, looking at the picture I am seriously considering making some (even at 9PM, in my tired and grumpy disposition. Amazing.)
Essay, bee eye, Annie
No, I’m not going Dadaist on you (I will leave that to Nichole). I end up saying all this very frequently actually, except not like that: by spelling my name – S.A.B.I.N.E. (I know, how clever of me).
In this country for some unknown (and slightly irritating) reason, I have to spell my first name on an almost daily basis. If my father had won (and I had been called Florence) I’m fairly sure I would never have to do that. But my mum prevailed, so I have a shorter and more difficult name (the one she always knew she would give to one of her daughters someday). So I might have to spell my name very often but it’s a gift from my mum – something precious between her and me that was long coming.
Awww right?
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