Not long after Charlotte Sometimes retired to the great-cat-condo-in-the-sky, Michael and I knew we'd want to get another cat. He was ready before I was. I wasn't sure when I'd be.
When I was out of town on a business trip, Michael visited the amsterdam dierenasiel - the animal shelter. He visited with a few cats. He asked if I wanted to go for a visit too. The idea of going to an animal shelter was too sad for me at that point. He said it was nice. But it is an animal shelter. How nice could it be?
Like many people, I even have a hard time looking at animal adoption websites. I want to adopt ALL the animals. But, I did find myself browsing through this one. The animals all have descriptions of their personalities and circumstances written in the first person. It's very cute. There was one cat in particular, named Gucci, who I kept returning to. The shape of her head was very similar to Charlotte's and indeed she was half Norwegian Forest Cat. She had Charlotte's fur too, minus the smooth outer coat. She was described as an extremely shy cat who did not have such a great start in life. She was five years old and had a best friend named "Poepie" also of the same age. The site said the two cats were hoping to be placed together. You know how it goes when you fall in love with an adopted animal. There is just something about "the one" and you keep coming back to it.
Michael and I are on the waiting list for a Norwegian Forest pure bred kitten. We found a wonderful and responsible breeder in the north of Holland. We'll know in a few weeks if the mother-to-be is pregnant. It was always our intention to get the kitten first and adopt an older cat second. But it hasn't worked out quite that way.
We rode out bikes way out of town and came upon this green and yellow striped building. It was modern, clean, and very large. "This is it!" Michael told me. We could see volunteers taking some dogs for private morning walks. It is sort of, I would imagine, structured like a prison (but a happy prison! :-). There are exterior corridors you walk down in a semi circle. Some of the doors are solid glass and some are more like gates so that the room is exposed to the out door air. The cats are on one side and the dogs are on another side. In the middle are these two very large and amazing play areas with bridges and things to hide in and climb on and dig in. Any dog would love to play in this area. When we were there, there was a golden retriever mix playing king of the hill.
This morning we woke up to find both of our new cats escaped from their room. Since Regen is the shy one, we thought she's be the hardest to find. Found her right away between the couch and the wall (She would later escape again to just as poor, if not endearing hiding place, the washing machine.) Raafje was nowhere to be seen. We could hear her meow from time to time. We looked everywhere.
There is this small cut away below the cabinets in our kitchen just below the fridge. Unbelievably, Charlotte got back in there one time. She was always a curiosity-killed-the-cat sort of creature. She was very good at getting herself into situations that required rescue: Jumping out of the bedroom window into a tree. Climbing onto the roof from the balcony. Jumping below the floorboards of an unfinished bathroom. Crawling through a small cut away under the fridge that is just too small for her to crawl back out of without assistance. We looked in there with a flashlight but could not see Raafje .
For several hours in the very early morning we listend for her occasional meows. We were able to determine that she just must be in there, but we could not angle ourselves to see all the way back the length of the floor. So I got my webcam out and put it inside the opening with a maglight flashlight. I set my laptop on the floor. We looked on the computer screen and sure enough there she was all the way backed up against the exterior wall. After much ingenuity and failed attempts, we were finally able to "smoke her outta there"....minus the smoke.
Another reason technology is awesome.
Today I worked from home and collaborated in real time on a document with a colleague at the office and in Germany through Microsoft Communicator and webcams. Then I took my laptop to the butcher and showed him a picture of a crown pork roast from epicurious.com because I don't know how to order a crown pork roast in Duch. Later I will IM with my mother who lives an ocean and a continent away. Tonight I will read a book from my Kindle and do some online christmas shopping. Tomorrow I might send a message to a friend I haven't spoken to in twenty years who I found on facebook. I don't ever want to granted how awesome technology is.
Happy Birthday Janika!
Happy Birthday Alex!
My contribution to Thanksgiving dinner.
That's Maldon salt on top. The peanut butter / honey filling is poping out the cracks. Next batch will be cooked less and have either habañero, cayenne, or jalepeño.
Molten Chocolate cups w/ peanut butter & honey centers...
Seen in lower haight.
It's windy today. Too windy to ride my bike. So I decided to walk to the Leidseplein, catch the 5 tram to station Zuid, and get my train.
The trams all stopped lined up on the tracks near the Museumplein with no indication as to when they'd start up again. Too windy for bikes. Too windy for trams. I got out and walked the rest of the way.
When I entered Station Zuid, I saw a conservative-looking man in a gray, chalk-striped suit. He was svelte but not tall. His suit was tailored close to the body. His hair was cropped short and groomed. He was walking quickly and purposefully with a broad stride. He was carrying a full length rainbow-striped umbrella.
It made me smile. I couldn't help but notice the awkward, rigid, and apologetic way in which he held his umbrella. His grip on it was choked more than half way toward the tip rather than closer or by the handle. He held it slightly behind his back, but not so much so that he made it abundantly obvious he was trying to obscure it. His anxious gate made me think he wanted to be seen in the company of that umbrella for as little time as possible .
I imagined his morning.
"Honey...I'm late! I can't find my black umbrella."
"You must have left it at the office."
"Do we have another one?"
"I don't know, look around!"
"I'm late!"
"For christsakes...(digging noises coming from the hallway closet)..
...Here!" She tossed him the technicolor parapluie.
"What....this?" he agonizes.
"Take it! It's all that's in the closet," her voices rises, colored with notes of dismissive exasperation.
He seemed to be on his way to the sandwich shop in the station. There was no precipitation. It must have been the suit.
