Katie Scarlett, 42 in feline years, passed away unexpectedly on 18 May 2012. She was born sometime in or around October 2006 to unknown parents in the Wilmington, North Carolina area. On St. Patrick’s Day 2007, she came home to The General and Wife, after being adopted through an agency for kitties.
Katie was best known for being a fuss budget, her sensational appetite, and her soft little kitty snores that often accompanied naps. She was often referred to as a garbage disposal because of the grumbling sound she would make when other cats/dogs were in her territory. She had a fondness of catnip fresh from the plant, open tuna cans (The General always shared), and laser pointer lights.
She leaves behind her humans, The General and The General’s Wife; special friend Captain Rhett Buttler (brown tabby), several fish, and many silly memories from over the years. She is interred in the backyard of the house. A Katie Garden will be made in her honor around her grave among the long leaf pines and turkey oaks.
While she never caught a squirrel in her earthly life, one can only hope she is chasing (and catching!) squirrels off the Lord’s back porch.
I sure am going to miss that cat.
Bis dann, Katze.
Katie and I taking a Sunday afternoon nap, circa 2008.
Growing up, we had an outdoor cat named Shadow, a rather large muted calico (who Katie reminds me so much of). Whenever she would do something bad like crawling inside the open bedroom window in the middle of the night to snuggle or bringing a half dead baby bunny into the garage and proceed to butcher it, etc., my mother always threatened to make “Fricassee Kitty.” Because I lack the ability to make eggs and other simple items (I can never remember if you butter toast before or after the toaster….), I never really thought much about what “fricassee” was.
The most amazing website EVER for food, thekitchn.com, I found a recipe for Tarragon Chicken Fricassee with a tagline about how it was a southern dish. As a southern transplant, I get excited about southern recipes, since I grew up in the great white north of Illinois. I had no idea what tarragon was, but I figured I could find it at Tarris Heeter (it’s a plant). It turns out that fricassee is between a saute and a stew. Interesting.
So for dinner tonight, that’s what I’m making — with chicken breasts instead of a whole chicken (or oversized cat). Here’s the recipe.
Also, The General and I just bought our 1st Costco membership. We’re keeping a spending journal for the year to see if it is cost effective compared to Wal-Mart or Tarris Heeter (okay, it’s really Harris Teeter, a chain grocery store here, but I like my name better). I’m amazed at what they have there — but it is so easy to overspend!
So here goes nothing. To quote Sir Paul on the Beatle’s Anthology, “Let’s hope this one turns out pretty darn good.”
I ran into Wal-Mart again today for a few items. I didn’t run into any weirdness this time, and as I made my way through the checkout counter, I knew why.
I was the weird one.
Today I bought fish flakes, cat food, 3 bags of cat litter, a cat toy, and a large box of thong panty liners. Yup. Today I was the crazy sexy cat lady because life is too short to wear traditional underwear and be felineless.
This picture sums up the hurricane thus far. It’s a Cat 2 alright, but a sleepy one at that. Lame. Here I am thinking that losing my hurricane v card was going to be a wild ride with sideways rain, airborne trees, and power outages. So far its been me watching Jurassic Park (hadn’t seen it since it was in theatres, circa 5th grade), drinking wine, tea, talking to my General who’s running the battle plan at work. The power hasn’t even flickered. Hurricane? I’ve weathered worse storms in the shower.
The worst part is suppose to hit in about 2 hours and I plan to be awake, hoping to catch some of the action.
The storm door out front came loose and was banging with random wind gusts. Scared the daylight out of me. And Katie.
I think I need another glass of wine.
I did end up wearing the midriff bearing shirt (a tight blue sequin number coupled with a mini knit jacket) and it worked well – especially with 5″ heels. A lady in the group exclaimed, “You dress like that and you’re married?!” I was taken aback, because outside of the crest of my hips, everything else was covered conservatively. She meant it as a compliment, going with the stereotype of all married women gain 20 pounds and only buy clothes from Cold Water Creek. Ha! The party was awesome!
I’ve lost 3 more pounds, down to 141. Woo hoo! Diet and exercise, baby! Eating smaller portions minus most sugary treats combined with running seems to be key. And fruit. Lots of fruit. And tea. And oats.
I’ve decided to plant a berry patch in my backyard: strawberries, raspberries – maybe something else. I need to clear out a spot and get some serious top soil/compost going on to compete with the sand. I hoped to start that today, but it keeps raining.
Re-doing our living room is almost complete! The General is using glass ties for our fireplace surround. Now that it’s up, I’m not sure it works. It doesn’t go with the decor of the room and it kinda looks like it fell out YMCA circa 1980. It’s yet to be grouted with white, so hopefully that will finish it off and make it pop. I love the idea and I think it’s a nifty way to decorate. I’ll post a picture once it’s done.
Water temp jumped to 13C – or 55F – it’s officially warm enough for my 4/3 wetsuit. I’m just not so sure it’s warm enough for me yet. I like the water to be at least 62+ – what can I say? I’m a fairweather surfer. Later this month I’m going into the soup as long as the waves are good. Woo hoo, summer is on it’s way!
Katie, my calico kitty, likes ice cream. She’s a 11 pounds of sugar in an 8 pound bag in terms of being a fat cat – but I just let her lick a little off a spoon. Everytime I open the freezer now I have a furry little body right by me with big eyes looking up at me. I think I’ve created a monster. Oops.
Mad Men #404 was so good last night!!! My Katie and I stayed up to watch, she is my Mad Cat 🙂
My favorite line:
Peggy: I have a boyfriend.
Joyce: He doesn’t own your vagina.
Peggy: No, but he is renting it.