Speaking of food

I wasn't, actually, but I've been thinking a lot about it (and also eating regularly, go figure), and will eventually proselytize about it. As I tend to do.

(I hear you Trixie: "Save me now!")

But in the meantime, here is a quick-and-dirty (and very interesting) article on conscientious seafood eating. I'm starting to hate "what to eat" guides, but reading this made me think it would help me in the grocery store, rather than make my head hurt.

The book mentioned in the article, Bottomfeeder: How to Eat Ethically in a World of Vanishing Seafood, was also reviewed in this past Saturday's Books section of the Globe and Mail. I think. I didn't actually read it (but my Saturday paper lasts all week, so guess what I'll be looking up tonight?)

And, if you're still reading, here is a bit more: in the NY Times.

Link-happy today, or what?

Sweaty palms?

Big exam tonight in Libraries 101. I have to admit, I'm not too worried. I'm going into the exam with an cumulative mark of 99.75%. (I wish I was kidding; though a couple assignments haven't been marked so who knows? I could blow it at any point.) And also, I studied.

If you every think you might want to be a library technician, don't take the Intro course: skip right to cataloguing and reference. Everything you thought you knew about libraries is probably enough, and what you don't know is easy enough to guess correctly. Or Google for free.

But! With all the free time I'm going to have now that I don't have to do lame assignments (and assuming my part-time status finally kicks in), I'll be posting mucho updates about my new garden experiment. And maybe, just maybe... I'll finish my green goblin sweater. (I swear, all I have left is the edging... but I haven't touched it since last August!)

Teach your children well

We arrived home from work/school at 7 PM last night, because we had to make an emergency pitstop at Zellers for summer clothes to get the kids through the week. (It was quicker than digging around in the basement for the box of stuff from last year that wouldn't fit any more anyway.)

Starving, we rushed to the kitchen.

Me: "Ok, Constance, you grab a snack before you faint. I'm on salmon and broccoli. McPie, you're on cocktails."

Constance: "Because it's always five o'clock somewhere!"

She must have learned that from her Nana.

Practical translation

I am hosting our Book Club meeting tonight. We have been reading Their Eyes Were Watching God -- a most excellent book. Book Club is always a potluck... in fact, it's really mostly a potluck -- we usually have a hard time getting around to the book. Possibly needless to say, we are also a bunch of geeks, and so try to be thematic in our cooking.

Last night, after finishing work, going for a run, getting groceries, making and eating naan bread pizza (while watching Buffy, natch), I set about making jambalaya for Book Club. (Wrong side of the Gulf, I know, but from this side of the 49th, southern is southern.)

McPie's observation about my choice of dish: "'Jambalaya': Spanish for will never get to bed."

Please indulge me in a moment grief

Findley is gone and it really sucks.

I wanted to write a brief and simple post like Sleepwalker and Trixie (who I acknowledge have recently endured similar experiences). But I suck and I need to blubber and wail just a little bit (more).

We did cuddle him up until the end; in fact, pets and cuddles were the only thing that seemed to console him as he deteriorated to the point of immobility. I suppose it should not have been a surprise that a kitty like Findley wasn't the type to run away and hide.

It was a really difficult decision, but we did end up taking him to our veterinarian. It became obvious that he was in distress, and it was honestly unbearable. We were able to hold him the whole time, and stayed with him for a long time afterward, until they finally took him away.

This whole experience is new to me (which is maybe why I am being so melodramatic). I realize now that it is an enormous burden to take active control over the life/death of a creature. It was agonizing to try to decide whether we should let Findley go on his own, or take him to be euthanized. Ultimately, it seemed worse to let him suffer than help him along... and we don't feel like we made a mistake. But being the one to give the nod "okay, let's go now past the point of no return" and actually snuff the life of the little guy who trusts you so implicitly... Consciously CHOOSING which "one last cuddle" is THE last one. I think my heart will always be a little bit broken from having made and lived out that decision.

And in the couple of days that have passed, we have been surprised at the grief we are feeling. I totally took for granted how deeply embedded in my consciousness and subconsciousness that little kitty was. Last night when we returned home from dinner (happy birthday Mom!), as we were pulling up to the house it struck me that it was an empty house. Seems like every time I'd pulled up to the house before, I'd (consciously or subconsciously) acknowledge it as a house with an inhabitant who was waiting for our return - usually by scampering to the door to meet us with his trademark yowl. There are empty spots and ghosts everywhere. McPie admitted today: "Yesterday I swept the floor and could not bring myself to do anything with the cat toys I found. I just left them there."

Anyway. Another picture, because he was so damn cute. In an ugly sort of way (as those of you who have met him will attest.)

(You wouldn't have been able to choose between these pics, either. Especially if you knew him.)

Curse of the cubicle

My mind stayed at home today, and so when I stumbled across this article, I found myself feeling a little bit lifted, and also a little bit depressed.

The article discusses the rise and flaw of the cubicle, and the weak shaft of telecommuting light at the end of the tunnel. (Yes, that was an intended pun. You like how I follow up with a cliché integrated with a tired metaphor? It's one of those weeks, I guess.)

Very soon, I will begin work -- the mental preparation, at least -- for making my home a good place to be productive.

Found!

I may yet get my cuddles. Findley is still with us. Sweetie McPie found him yesterday afternoon -- alive and well, or well-enough -- in the washing machine. (We have a front-loader.) He was just cuddled up in there, completely invisible under a pile of dirty towels and gym socks.

The night before, I'd stuffed some whites in, and then decided I didn't have full load so abandoned the effort with the idea that I'd eventually grab the bathmat from upstairs and then put the laundry on...

Findley was *this close* to being euthanized via the permanent press cycle. I shudder at the thought.

McPie found a kitty-sized box, put Findley's cozy oven mitt* in it, and placed it on the heat vent in the kitchen for Fin to sleep in. So much as he can enjoy anything these days, the kitty is enjoying coze, warmth, and company, without having to move.


* When Finner was still dextrous, he would regularly pop open the bottom kitchen drawer where we kept the dishtowels and oven mitts, and curl up in the back of the drawer. One of the mitts is so covered in fur it's now "his".

Gone?

Findley, our sweet and sour little kitty, has been ailing for some months now. We didn't really notice at first - he was just acting a little "older". Looking a little scruffier, sleeping a bit more. A month or so ago, we noticed him stumbling a little, and instead of hopping lightly onto our laps, he was climbing (squirrel-like). A trip to the vet yielded little, other than the speculation that he might have some sort of neurological disease, or brain tumour. Which would be undiagnosable without a (wait for it) catscan. (Ba-da-boom! McPie loves that one. For some reason.)

Since then, we've just been watching him carefully, and coddling/cuddling him with abandon. In the past couple of weeks, Findley's taken to sleeping constantly, up in the spare room. We moved a litter box up there for his convenience, and have been carrying him downstairs occasionally. He has still been wanting lap time - when we crouch to pet him, he climbs on - for comfort we presume.

We've known his time is approaching, and have been watching to make sure he's not in obvious pain or serious distress. We'd rather he stay where he's familiar and comfortable than take him to the dreaded vet, if possible.

But last night, I put Finner on McPie's chest to cozy up while we watched some Buffy. Findley was slightly more alert than usual - and seemed to be a bit restless. His trembling was more pronounced. He stayed for awhile, then meowed a few times (unusual lately) and hopped down and slunk away. It was the most activity we'd seen from him in days.

We haven't seen Findley since. And we've looked high and low. Like, everywhere. He's tiny and can fit in little bitty nooks. And although weakened of late, he's able to open drawers to crawl into. I know this is just what cats do, but I did have idealistic visions of cuddling him in his last moments...

McPie is home sick today, and suspects that he'll be the one to find Finner, because "it's always the husband"... We'll see.

Meanwhile, I'll be thinking pleasant thoughts all day about my little companion who I've had with me (for better or worse) most closely and consistently since I settled here in my grown-up life...

I recommend the carménère

This past weekend, we hosted The Wine Club. Yep, Wine Club is still going strong (though somehow I'm thinking it's time we should come up with a better name for it.) I think this was about our seventh gathering, and we celebrated the first anniversary.

On to the important bits. Chilean wine. This is what we featured this time around. (And if you're not into wine, scroll down for FOOD!)

Chilean wine rocks! What we found in our research (ie: months of pre-event sampling and sampling during the final event):

$10 Chilean wine is better than most $10 wine. Some are even darn good. We recommend Cono Sur Merlot (from regular shelves at LCBO). The pinot noir beside it isn't bad either.

A couple bucks more in the Chilean section gets you really nice wine. Our faves at our tasting were big, juicy, delicious. Interestingly, of the 6 reds we tried, the less expensive ones were the group favourites:

Yali Reserver carménère 2005 ($12)
Equus carménère 2006 ($13)
Arboleda merlot 2005 ($16)

(All from Vintages.)

And in general, the carménères were quite divine. (We were comparing them with merlot. Which was also tasty.)

We all agreed that they'd stand up against much more expensive Cali or Aussie reds. (Not quite comparable to French wine - definitely more new world, but equally delicious.)

I also have food recommendations. Because Wine Club is as much about food as it is about wine!

Best Chocolate Cake Ever (and ridiculously easy)

Chilean Empanadas (we're totally making these again. Cheaters like us use unsweetened frozen tart shells instead of making our own pastry. Hey, we had a half dozen different dishes to make in one day!)

We also made peanut-crusted chicken (nuggets in our interpretation) and ricotta fritters, both of which were delicious. Recipes for both are in the Spring Food and Drink magazine.

Oh, oh, one more recommendation! Next time you're in a cheese shop, look out for manchego cheese, and try some if you find it. It's a wonderful Spanish sheep's milk cheese. Very similar to pecorino, but slightly milder.