The pompom that brought a city to its knees.

I have a comically large pompom atop one of my toques. It’s so big that the pompom-to-toque ratio is nearly 1:1. People have difficulty resisting commenting on it. Small children point at my head. I might’ve even upset someone’s dog yesterday. Had the dog been off-leash, it’d have lunged at me for a taste of whatever critter they thought to be sitting on my head.

I spent the majority of my days off indoors. I finished French knotted the former Miss. Bouiver’s beehive and I am well on the way to completing my second embroidery project. I could finish it this week, except I found myself lying on the floor on Sunday night after smoking a bowl from my wee pipe. While high, I became more conscious of the strain I’d put on my back from hours of sitting on the couch, hunching over my embroidery project.

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Back alley owl attack.

Happy Halloween! So far, the ho-humiest Halloween yet. They did not even hand out fun-sized treats at work today! I realize how weirdly entitled this is: I don’t even care for cheap chocolate. How am I supposed to get into the mood for Halloween in such an uninspired work environment? One of the mechanics wore a Jack-o-Lantern costume. I threw on my Senior Proctor NXIVM stripe path scarf for a few hours in a futile attempt to instigate a conversation. Everybody else in the shop was a disappointment.

There was a corn on the cob on the salesfloor. My grocery store checkout clerk was Toad. I noticed my landlord now has a moustache: unsure if Halloween related.

Last evening was spooky enough anyhow.

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Ask me about my cherry tree.

We have a cherry tree outside our place. Last year it was just a tree. No cherries. Naturally, I’ve been going around bragging about my new cherry tree even though I wouldn’t touch the cherries. The tree has some sort of infestation of the insect variety. A friend told me yesterday, “It’s a bad year for Gypsy Moths.” 

I think she meant good: they’re clearly well-fed. Apparently, I have a friend who is an authority on Gypsy moths. Meanwhile, I can barely identify trees.

Unlike me, small critters are finding the cherries to be edible, so the tree has been attracting House Finches (I’m not good at identifying birds either: I had to google) and squirrels to ogle at. Squirrels are among the cutest animals to watch eat. This cherry tree may not provide me with fruit; instead, it provides me with entertainment.

I love our new cherry tree.

Oh, and I have a job.

Continue reading “Ask me about my cherry tree.”

The best beast of the island.

Look at this cat, isn’t he incredible?

A grey cat with large pupils stares at the person standing behind the camera from inside a bath tub.

He has chewed the straps of my sports bra in half. Twice. That is incredible.

He has also chewed off and swallowed the knotted end of a hoody drawstring. The knot remained in his belly until he yakked it up three days later. But before his puke revealed what had been wrong with him, his loss of appetite on day one was so disconcerting that Yann and I wasted a hundred dollars on a visit to the vet. Incredible.

Even after this ordeal, he still finds hoody drawstrings irresistible. He’s incredib…ly infuriating.

Aanyway, aren’t these dog ownership-level problems?

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The 18 lives of Bubble and Enfoiré.

Yesterday morning, I started my day with a seventeen-minute-long video of a husky named Gohan eating his fancy chow. This is what I’ve replaced social media with: YouTube videos of dogs eating. I was not going to watch the entire video, but the cats found it to be quite captivating. I don’t even feel bad: this video has 3.4 million views, and Gohan is heckin’ adorable.

Continue reading “The 18 lives of Bubble and Enfoiré.”