Month: February 2013
Yes folks, its Happy Tuesday here on Chicken Road! ‘The Child’ is gone for another week, all other pesky relatives have been ejected, my mother’s bible study is over and I am about to joyously trudge through miles of mud and sheep poo to get to the grocery store and buy wine, nuts and cat food (and maybe a few other less essential provisions). Then, when I get back I’ll smother that chicken in olive oil, cracked black pepper and sea salt, stuff it with sage and onion stuffing, surround it with potatoes, parsnips and carrots and slow roast it… Ah yes, happy Tuesday 🙂
Flossy the Hellcat or let’s call her Hob’s cat – one feline with more bite than a scotch bonnet. She survived the vet, and so did we. However, the vet failed to clean the cat’s ears – leaving that particular suicide mission to yours truly. She does not like it. I get my mother to hold her by the scruff while I clean out her dirty ears and put antibiotic drops in followed by an ear massage. You can imagine I am sure, her wrath… We begin the process by opening a tin of tuna and allowing her to smell it before her ear torture begins. I’m hoping she will come to associate ear cleaning with tuna eating. Sort of Pavlov’s dog, or in this case, Hob’s cat. And Hob’s cat is currently hiding, in disgust, under the sofa.
And in case you are wondering if this is all I have going this Valentine’s, you’d be wrong. I woke up to a Valentine’s card from the object of my desire this morning (see, I’m not a sad old cat lady, honest!) and a date to look forward to later 🙂
Happy Valentine’s Day from me, him and Hob’s cat.
It’s V.E.T. day for the cat, there’s a blizzard blowing outside and the Internet is down. Although I am writing this at noon my time by candlelight, I’ve no idea when it will arrive in cyberspace… So while I am cut of from the collective, I’ve thrown another log on the fire, stirred my cauldron and picked up a book, a gift given to me by a very good friend before I left Edinburgh. It’s a book of Scottish Traditional Tales, so that I wouldn’t forget my time in Scotland, and those of you who know me, know how much I love folklore…So gather around.
I let it fall open, the candle flickers and page 50 begins “Once upon a time…” great! It’s all about a miller and his pregnant wife. She is craving liver in the middle of the night (can anyone say zombie apocalypse?) and sends him into town to buy some. Well, the shops won’t be open for hours and the miller, wanting to please his wife but also wanting to get some sleep, cooks up a cunning plan. Remembering that a corpse has very recently been buried in the graveyard, he digs it up, removes the liver, takes it home and cooks it. Perfectly reasonable. The wife is unaware of the origins of the liver and gobbles it up! Later on, the miller goes to work and there’s a knock at the door. It’s the corpse. Obviously. So she asks it why it looks rotting and why it’s entrails are hanging out and where oh where has its liver gone (again, don’t you love the logic of folktales?) And ‘It’ shrieked, “you ate it” and tore her to pieces, naturally. The End.
Part of me thinks this is a little unfair – the woman had no idea she had consumed the liver of a dead corps, her husband the miller, dug up the corpse, removed the liver, cooked it up in the middle of the night and fed it to his pregnant wife… Great guy… I know, I know, cautionary tales keep us on the straight and narrow, teach through gruesome and grizzly stories what not to do. In this case, eat dead humans. I can see the value of this in the light of CJD (mad cow disease), Ebola and a whole host of other bad things, like becoming a zombie, a vampire or just a common or garden cannibal. And clearly, ignorance is no defence! Which is why the wife, ignorant of her crime was torn to shreds.
However, what really struck me is the section of the book this tale was in – Children’s Tales. Teach ‘em early…