(no subject)
As the weather grows warm-ish, our cat has evolved from being a beloved family pet to the aloof and slightly annoying roommate he is for a third of every year. Sometimes, he comes in to tell you about his day while you're at work and it is always a horrible day. He yells at you when he's hungry. Even though he knows how to get into the house himself, he prefers it when you open the door for him and may not go inside until you do so. (Meanwhile, the bugs and cold air have made themselves welcome via the stuff you left open so he could come in.)
Seth acknowledges that Dorian is now a grumpy old man. To me, he's always been grumpy so I don't know how being older makes that different. I'm terrified he's old. We have both agreed that if we see a cat in need whom we can help, we will consider getting another. However, our main focus is ensuring Dorian is happy and well-kept. He would be absolutely betrayed if we got another cat. In fact, protecting me from other cats I could make friends with is his daily occupation. By Dorian's standards, we are always lacking and he may be turning into a waif.
Inner Seth voice: That's because the ridiculous amount of love you give him is never enough.
Our confusingly warm-cold weather also befuddles our plants, who have trouble deciding whether it is first spring, second spring or probably summer. This is great for the flowering plants, but terrible for growing plants. Every year, I hover over the sprouts that emerge and ask, "What are you going to be?" That's because while I try to plant a variety of interesting things each year, what actually deigns to grow can be quite different. Take for example the shiso I've been trying to grow for 10 years. Last year, global warming allowed me to have two small shiso plants (or two meals of shiso-flavoured onigiri). This year, I can't stop making red shiso appear from the ground. If anything it is almost the only thing growing with vigour. For the record, I haven't planted any shiso seeds at all this year. Any shiso plant I currently have is probably a seed I may have thrown into the soil over the past decade.
My repeated attempts to grow lingonberries have led to withering failures. The seedlings kind of shrug and die after a few months and the seeds flatly refuse to sprout. One of the things people say about growing in our Victorian goth micro-climate is to plant leafy vegetables. Either my over-healthy community of millipedes and earthworms are murdering all the spinach and amaranth seeds, or the seeds I bought are duds. I am offended leafy greens hate me. I was forced to eat so much of it as a child. I've also tried to grow alpine strawberries, another of the plants recommended for vaguely sunlit, temperate areas. These sprouted up just fine, but kind of stayed stunted. I transplanted three of the largest looking plants into a bigger container. Dorian promptly slept on them.
Any plans I may have had to help supplement our diet, as you have seen, is subject to the vagaries of nature.
In view of that other force majeure to my plant life-the creature known as The Raccoon-I tried putting in a horseradish root amidst my chicken wire plant-jails. The planting instructions claim that European horseradish releases extremely pungent fumes, to the extent one must grate it in the open air or preferably in a closed blender, after which it must be immersed in vinegar. I figure, if a raccoon digs into that and gets turned off, it might convince it to stay away. So far, the raccoons left it alone during their last foraging expedition. FYI, I planted the horseradish mostly on a whim. Should the roots amount to anything this winter, I intend to grate it and throw it in some homemade shio koji I have lying around. I'm excited by its possibilities as a marinade or sauce base. It would also stop me from going through our mustard supply. The spouse is always baffled how we keep running out of three different kinds at once.
Current goals: Approach more local stores for book readings, figure out how to get reviews for Finches. My crippling anxiety doesn't make it easy to approach stores. Believe it or not, I don't have any problems with public speaking. The problem is making initial contact. If anyone has suggestions as to places that might review my book or have a reading space, I'm open to hearing them.
Seth acknowledges that Dorian is now a grumpy old man. To me, he's always been grumpy so I don't know how being older makes that different. I'm terrified he's old. We have both agreed that if we see a cat in need whom we can help, we will consider getting another. However, our main focus is ensuring Dorian is happy and well-kept. He would be absolutely betrayed if we got another cat. In fact, protecting me from other cats I could make friends with is his daily occupation. By Dorian's standards, we are always lacking and he may be turning into a waif.
Inner Seth voice: That's because the ridiculous amount of love you give him is never enough.
Our confusingly warm-cold weather also befuddles our plants, who have trouble deciding whether it is first spring, second spring or probably summer. This is great for the flowering plants, but terrible for growing plants. Every year, I hover over the sprouts that emerge and ask, "What are you going to be?" That's because while I try to plant a variety of interesting things each year, what actually deigns to grow can be quite different. Take for example the shiso I've been trying to grow for 10 years. Last year, global warming allowed me to have two small shiso plants (or two meals of shiso-flavoured onigiri). This year, I can't stop making red shiso appear from the ground. If anything it is almost the only thing growing with vigour. For the record, I haven't planted any shiso seeds at all this year. Any shiso plant I currently have is probably a seed I may have thrown into the soil over the past decade.
My repeated attempts to grow lingonberries have led to withering failures. The seedlings kind of shrug and die after a few months and the seeds flatly refuse to sprout. One of the things people say about growing in our Victorian goth micro-climate is to plant leafy vegetables. Either my over-healthy community of millipedes and earthworms are murdering all the spinach and amaranth seeds, or the seeds I bought are duds. I am offended leafy greens hate me. I was forced to eat so much of it as a child. I've also tried to grow alpine strawberries, another of the plants recommended for vaguely sunlit, temperate areas. These sprouted up just fine, but kind of stayed stunted. I transplanted three of the largest looking plants into a bigger container. Dorian promptly slept on them.
Any plans I may have had to help supplement our diet, as you have seen, is subject to the vagaries of nature.
In view of that other force majeure to my plant life-the creature known as The Raccoon-I tried putting in a horseradish root amidst my chicken wire plant-jails. The planting instructions claim that European horseradish releases extremely pungent fumes, to the extent one must grate it in the open air or preferably in a closed blender, after which it must be immersed in vinegar. I figure, if a raccoon digs into that and gets turned off, it might convince it to stay away. So far, the raccoons left it alone during their last foraging expedition. FYI, I planted the horseradish mostly on a whim. Should the roots amount to anything this winter, I intend to grate it and throw it in some homemade shio koji I have lying around. I'm excited by its possibilities as a marinade or sauce base. It would also stop me from going through our mustard supply. The spouse is always baffled how we keep running out of three different kinds at once.
Current goals: Approach more local stores for book readings, figure out how to get reviews for Finches. My crippling anxiety doesn't make it easy to approach stores. Believe it or not, I don't have any problems with public speaking. The problem is making initial contact. If anyone has suggestions as to places that might review my book or have a reading space, I'm open to hearing them.