In my efforts to declutter, I came across a silverplate piece of cutlery that I think was identified to me by Myrtle.

Uncharacteristic of me, I forget the exact conversation, but I think my stepmother described this as a very specialized utensil. I will call it an "olive grabber". Both Gary and I think it looks like a surgical instrument!! 😬

I want to give this as a gift to my dear friend Sharon., who enjoys and serves olives. Yet, the more I thought about it, I felt I had already given her one from my estate!

When Zev called to ask us to Sunday dinner, I couldn't help myself. I asked him if Sharon had an "olive grabber". He asked, "A what?", and I repeated myself. He relayed the question to Sharon, who replied, "a WHAT??". And then Sharon took the phone. I told her that I had had a "déjà vous" moment, or a "deja moi" moment (forgive me, french is not my first language).

I was wishing I hadn't said a thing. It would have been okay if I had given Sharon a second such piece of heirloom cutlery. It will be packaged with a jar of olives (and other things) for Christmas. I can almost hear Myrtle's voice when I struggle to recall the conversation from so long ago.

The other agenda that is preying on my little mind is fruitcake. I have lots of frozen/dried fruit and nuts, and I'm trying to brainstorm an offering for friend Susannah and also my sister. They both like fruitcake, but I have performance anxiety. I do give gifts with no strings attached, but worry that it will not measure up to a discerning fruitcake lover. Perhaps I will throw everything together and call it "Christmas pudding": Myrtle used to chop up years-old gifted fruit cakes and make a steamed pudding, which was universally enjoyed. Okay … at least by me. A great memory from my teens!

Our friend Jane has delivered her own homemade and booze-infused cake, so our needs are met. I might not need to share with Gary. 😂🎄

My creations, with scant reference to recipes,
and the use of my trusty Instantpot!

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Sooo, today after lunch I went over to Brian's house to see if I could start over with a proper introduction between Orange Cat and him.

It took a few minutes to find the cat, quite a few, as there are many places for one to hide in a big house. Brian felt sure that Orange Cat was downstairs, and he was right.

The cat made no sound, but eventually my iPhone flashlight caught his eyes. He let me gather him up and pack him upstairs, where Brian and I had a little visit. I thought OC was warming up to B.

As we talked, however, we agreed that there is surely a better match. A cat should have been loving, and would have the best of care there. Then I went to put OC into the kennel he was accustomed to … and he took flight!!

I thought it would be a lot more difficult to locate and catch the cat the second time, and I was right. I searched for more than an hour, spotting him a few times but not able to reach him.

I checked where I found him the first time at least a dozen times. Then, on a hunch, I looked under the last step of a flight of stairs, where his ginger colour blended in with the wood.

On hands and knees, I crawled the eight or ten feet to get to the *&$#@ing cat, expecting him to shoot past me. I was ready to give up and close to tears. But Orange Cat let me gather him up again, purring right away.

I packed the cat out from the cramped space and just sat for awhile. I was shaking! Earlier, I had spotted a small cat carrier in the basement and had left the door open in case it would be helpful.

Steeling my courage and trying to lull the cat to 💯 docility, I quickly got him into the crate. He spun around and head butted the door: he's a smart one!

The writing was on the wall: the cat needed to come home with me, though I don't need another cat. 🤦‍♀️🐾

Brian will probably be offered a tamer cat in due time. We tried, and it's not anyone's fault. Brian said to Orange Cat, "You're just an asshole!".

🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈

I'm home, Orange Cat back in smaller confines but acting happy. I've doled out canned food to each cat. Each of five cats. 🤷‍♀️

On my way to town this afternoon, I almost slid off the end of our driveway. I had time to think that if I hit the power pole, our precious Mica could be injured on the passenger side (I was skidding sideways, trying to make the turn). I pumped the brakes, getting zero traction, and also had time to swear the leg off the proverbial dog. I even thought about my mission (to catch Orange Cat) being a bust.

And then the front tire caught some grass and the momentum of the car got me back onto the road, or maybe I gave it some gas. Then I had to stop before I crossed the driveway and went into the other ditch. I was shaking then also, and texted two people who were planning to come here.

So I had a minor scare 😅 and a considerable workout (it was like yoga to lie on Brian's basement floor and crawl around, plus hitting my head on stairs …). We are both looking forward to dining out tonight!

 This post is ad-supported
​