rainy summer and a very demanding cat

with the eternal mention that i don't even know what this post is - an attempt to not give up on the blog, to keep it going until more interesting developments develop, an attempt to fill in some blanks in a season that has been mostly a blank?...what will i remember this summer as? definitely a lot of time in the morning at the kitchen table, long afternoon naps, lots of rain, lots of staying in the neighbourhood. voluntary budget restraint. a sort of small/quiet (narrow?) contentment (happiness?:)) that i'm still trying to question and poke at.

anyway, the overarching idea is this: things are really simple. and that's good. minimalism as lifestyle: do as little as possible of things that annoy you. is it privilege? if so, i'd like to think it's the littlest bit earned. if it leads to me doing close to nothing for a while, this time i'm sure i can take it in stride.

but also this post should prominently feature our small cat tina (this is her official designation, as in "do you know what our small cat tina just did?") and her adventures and routines 2 years into this household. (i am basically inspired because i've been reading a library "exchange" book about a small-town library cat called dewey readmore books  (!!!) and updating b. on it, with possible ideas for a tina book.)

a tina book would be pretty slim though, i think, since what she does is exactly what you'd imagine a young cat would do: sleep a lot, climb high shelves, be cute, miaow for food and to beckon for you to entertain her, chew plants, and look outside with a comically desperate air. we've had to draw a line this summer: tina is to be a strictly indoor cat. this as a direct result of her sitting out on our back porch, then venturing further and further down the stairs and into the backyard (favourite hiding spots: under neighbours' BBQs) and finally into people's gardens, and - as a climax - running away from home on 2 different nights to just roll around in the grass of a garden. the first night we saw/knew where she was, behind a fence, so we went walking there with a lantern to spot her. the second night we just let her be. it's pretty clear by now that she knows where to come back for food (waiting at the back door in the morning, silent and fake-remorseful) but that's not the only danger lurking. so say bye-bye to the outside, small cat.

interlude 1: us going out in the evening. sadly, usually just for groceries. the reason for this pic was that i had bought 2 tops from forever xxi (mustard and lilac, why is anyone not surprised) and was just wearing one of them and wanted to show it off. BUT it was also cold enough that i wanted to show it off from underneath the hoodie. this is the only attempt at a selfie by b. where it doesn't look like i'm topless under that hoodie, so we'll have to take it.

perfected bread experiment

and (these are all at the apex of b's long hair experiment, which consisted in no haircut for like 5 months) a rare sunset picture where my hair looks kind of reddish (kissed by fire, for those in the know).

this is evenings in our home: the cat takes my chair and refuses to budge from there

unless it's to sit on the keyboard and try hard to distract b. from whatever he's doing. he's learned to save the keyboard by moving it or blocking it, i didn't; or i learned it the hard way: one morning this cat deleted an entire blog post with one definitely non-innocent touch.

shamelessly asking for pets

interlude 2: human highrises and bird highrises. this is in lasalle, by the water, because from time to time i want to go walking by the water and drag b. along with me. yes there were mosquitoes, but it wasn't so bad (not as bad as the caterpillars at henri bourassa!) the building is on ile-des-soeurs - so close, so far away

fishermen and party people

so, tina makes the funniest, cutest sounds in the world: small cautious signals of approach, surprised ones when you touch her when she doesn't expect, and purrs of course. but she only makes loud noises for 2 reasons ever (except when i squeeze her): 1) to ask for food, very plaintively, at around 5.30 am. (she still has food in her bowl from the evening, but as soon as she can see the bottom of the bowl, that's it: she qualifies the remaining food as stale and unworthy. if i go and shake the bowl to rearrange the pellets so they cover the bottom, everything is acceptable again. but for that i have to get out of bed)

and 2), you might have guessed, to ask to go out. this happens mostly after dark, since the young miss is not a big fan of the sun. but there's no way we're letting her go, considering the previous offenses. we'll let her on the porch, for a few minutes a day, if she's been good, and then only in a leash attached to her collar, and under adult supervision, because she tends to tangle her leash in porch chairs, sofa legs and everything she can. of course, this is like a drop in the ocean of her craving. look at the sadness of this little cat! look at the longing in her postures! b. sings to her "hello darkness my old friend" and lines from "mad world", which is funnily appropriate. the tina soundtrack.