It’s 7C (45F) and drizzling. Tomorrow it’s supposed to be a more typical -12C (10F) with occasional snow. I’ll do chores this morning and try to fill the indoor racks with firewood in preparation. This will be done alone because none of the other residents in this house will help. They won’t even do basic tasks like dusting – which should be easy for them. They’d just have to rub on things and their fur would take care of it.
I don’t speak their languages very well. This is Fish right now, sulking because I won’t give him what he wants. It’s not possible to do unless I know WTF that is!
He’s also unhappy because Duff is hiding. Apparently my passive cat is fed up with a small dog once again practicing his technique for impregnating any stationary animal (or object).
I tried to get a photo of Ciaran – but he won’t stop moving. I did get a bad photo of Fergus – the truly dominant beast around here. Yes, it should be me but none of them agree.
The good news is that he plays with the kitten. The even better news is that he hasn’t killed Fish yet – although he keeps trying..
Ciaran made a really exciting discovery the other day – the joys of a complete roll of paper towels. He used it to decorate the house although I disagreed with his aesthetic. He has also realized that if he stands on the edge of the bathtub he can reach the toilet paper roll. One of these days he’ll figure out that he can make it move and I’ll spend all my time cleaning up after him.
The four managers in this house got me up at 4:00 this morning. (Note: the only thing more difficult to deal with than very stubborn animals is very stubborn animals who conspire against me.) It could be they’re mad because something didn’t happen this New Year’s that I had never heard of.
There is a tradition, apparently born here on the Island, of visits by Mother Goodie. This troublesome individual fills stockings left out by children on New Year’s Eve. I did not know that. So, there were no stockings hung for my little demons and no gifts were received.
I’ve tried to explain that, even if I had known, they don’t actually qualify as children. They aren’t buying this and apparently intend to punish me.
I’ll have to find the person filling their heads with these fairytales. In the meantime, maybe this year I’ll take up meditation. 🙂
This Fundy Migrant's Tale 