Bella, Unplugged

I don't know if I've ever mentioned this or not, but now seems to be an appropriate time to tell you.
I have a battery-operated cat.

Yes, that's right; just behind the liver and on top of the pancreas, not far at all from the common bile duct, Bella has a small battery pack.  Which has to be recharged from time to time.

So I have to plug her in, and she has to remain tethered there in her bed until she's fully charged.
She tends to get bored.

Can't I get up yet?

Ready to face the world.

Sock Monkeys Rock!

I've said it before: Target is a dangerous place.  But seriously, how could I not buy these (clearance!):

when back home I've got these:

these:

these:

and forgive me, but these:

Oh.  And this:

Okay, I don't have that last one.  But if I had a suitable occasion, I would (in the event that I ever get married, I think it would make a smashing bridesmaid dress).

*Special thanks to my friends and family for gifting me with sock monkey paraphanalia.  And to Target for indulging my obsession by manufacturing it.

Easter Eggs

My sister (Bella's Aunt) convinced me yesterday that I should really dye Easter eggs with Bella.  So I fished from the top of the refrigerator the egg-dying kit that's been languishing there for the past year.  I boiled some eggs, and we got down to the business of egg-dying.
Hmmmm...this looks kinda interesting...

Heh, heh...they roll!

You're goin' down, Mr. Egg!

Me:  Bella!
Bella:  Oh.  Sorry, mom.

In the end, Bella just couldn't stop giving the eggs the evil eye,

and she was worried about getting the white tips of her paws messed up.  When it comes right down to it, she's just the slightest bit vain.
So I ended up doing most of the dying.  They turned out pretty well, and I think Bella enjoys them.

It's just that now she's waiting for them to hatch.

He is Risen!

"He is not here, for He is risen, as He said.  Come, see the place where He lay."
Matt. 28:6 ESV

Large Cat, Small Box

There are plenty of comfortable places around this apartment for a cat to sleep.  Take this bed, for instance.  It's actually a cat bed; made specifically for felines and outfitted with a catnip-filled throw.  Should be a cat magnet, don't you think?

Or this chair.  While not exclusively a cat chair, it does have a pillow with my particular cat's name embroidered on it, as well as a likeness of her sitting on a likeness of that very chair (thanks, Mother!).  Practically an engraved invitation for an animal seeking somnolence.

So why my cat would reject these two havens of comfort and instead cram her 14-pound carcass into a box no larger than a sheet of notebook paper is beyond me.

Yeah, sorry, I can't answer that question.  I simply don't know...

Faux Fried Ice Cream

I suppose "Faux Fried Ice Cream" is somewhat of a misnomer, considering Fried Ice Cream is something one would typically order in a Mexican restaurant.  Perhaps "El Falsito Fried Ice Cream" would be more to the point (Clearly, my Spanish is rather limited.  To things like "si" and "hola" and "liso y sedoso."  Which I think means "smooth and silky," if my shampoo bottle is to be believed).

The first thing we need is corn flakes.  Probably about 1/2 cup for each person.

Crunch them up with whatever works.  Rolling pin, measuring cup, bowling ball . . .
Not too much, though.  You don't want them ultra fine.

Then add cinnamon.  Probably about 3 pinches per person.  Maybe more, if you have really small fingers.  Toss the cinnamon and corn flakes around so the flakes get coated.
Oh, and you did wash your hands, right?

Now the ice cream.  I hate to admit it, but I happen to really like cheap vanilla ice cream.  Breyers always seems a little watery to me.  And I know that probably says more about my taste buds than it says about Breyers.
Anyway this is plain old ordinary vanilla ice cream from Target.  I also had the option of "New York Vanilla."  If anyone can tell me what New York Vanilla is, I'd be beholden.

Scoop out what you'd consider to be a serving of ice cream - probably about 2 or 2 1/2 scoops - and form into a ball.  Yes.  With your hands.  You washed them, right?

Next, roll the ball of ice cream in the crunched-up corn flakes.  Get it completely coated, and then plop it in a bowl.

Drizzle it with honey.  I think the honey is key.  Somehow, it makes the thing taste fried.

Okay, stop spraying the Redi-Whip directly into your mouth.  That's just unsanitary, and it's supposed to go on the fried ice cream, anyway.  Spray a good dollup on there.  And you know what?  Sprinkles.  Because you know they're just rotting away in the cupboard anyway.

And a cherry, obviously.

Bon Apetit!  Wait, there I go with the French again.  Enjoy.

Paparazzi

They follow me everywhere.

They wait for me...

...catching me at my worst angle.  It's true what they say, you know.  The camera adds 10 pounds.

Not coming out.

Ever.

Well, not until dinner, anyway.

Plate-lets

I love salad plates.  I don't mean that I collect them, because collecting them would mean buying them, and buying them would mean having them.  And I already have too many things.  But I love the ones that I have, and I love to admire the ones that I don't have.  These are the salad plates that inhabit my cupboards (oh, and please pardon the strawberries.  They look a little more bedraggled than I expected).
These were my Grandma's everyday dishes.  I love them so much they almost give me a lump in my throat.  Even though I use them every day, they make me think of her every time I see them.

My marvelous sister gave me this adorable plate.  It's actually part of a set of four - there's a bunch of grapes, a peach and an apple to go along with the cherries.  I love it.  Aren't the cherries just so cheery?

I once saw a dish pattern in a magazine and just fell in love with it.  It was called "Grandma's Kitchen" and was so sweet and vintagy that it made you want to go out and plant a Victory Garden or something.  Anyway, I later found the dishes on clearance at our local discount department store, and simply couldn't resist .

My parents used to live in Maine, and when I went to visit we would sometimes go to the outlets in Freeport.  We found these absolutely fabulous rabbit plates at a pottery there.  I bought myself one, and then my wonderful parents surprised me with 4 more rollicking rabbit plates and 4 matching mugs for my next birthday.  I just adore them (the plates and my parents).

So there you have it.  A photographic ode to salad plates.  Dressing, anyone?  Croutons?  Bac-os?