Aunt Cindy's Other Great Fans....

Meet the senior members of the black & white brigade -- Mizzu and Memphis. If you look closely at the paws, you'll see these charming girls are polydachtyls - they have extra toes. What's more unusual is that they have extras on all four paws.

You'll also hear these cats called Hemingway Cats. Ernest kept a colony at his home in Key West and as these cats are favourites of mariners (who believe that 'thumb' lets them catch rats that elude other cats) you'll often find them in port cities.

Just after Mizzie is done rubbing her hear on her 'nip, she'll flip onto her back and kick for a bit...

Mem and Mizz won't fight over anything...they'll wait each other out secure in the knowledge that there will always be more...

Mizzu guards her treasure....and after all that adventure, there's only one thing left to do....

To the Super Sleeper!

Aunt Cindy's Magic Catnip Pouches

My good friend Cindy is one of the most talented people I know...also, she's a church lady.

That's significant on a couple of fronts: first, because she makes - as she would call them - the most incredible selections of tasty treats for assorted church events. Also, she makes sandwiches....amazing and glorious sandwiches. Sometimes, we have office pot lucks just to coax Cindy into a sandwich frenzy. She humours us.

Like all good church ladies, she has ample gifts (and patience) so when craft season arrives, catnip pouches make an appearance. At Casa del Alderman (I'll have my Spanish correspondents check the spelling) catnip pouches are always a hit...and Cindy knows her feline nieces and nephews appreciate her talents. So when I tried to do her a favour by bringing her a BoSox shirt, she played it forward and sent me home with a treasure trove.

There are no safe places to hide magic cat pouches. Zippo. Nadda. I've tried...That having been said you can get a lotta laughs out of a tabby treasure hunt....
See for yourself....

Meet Furio Beans. A dashing lad of seven or so, he arrived a few years back with the name Buttons. Like all our pals, he was an experienced pet when he landed (note to file: if you're leaving your spouse never buy your kids a pet to remember you by...your spouse's next may associate the pet with the ex and our house is way full...plus there are two little kids out there who still think kitty ran away...) He distinguished himself by churlishly attacking some of his new siblings - hence Furio after the assasin on the Sopranos.

When he's not being the crabby tabby (and he is most often a good natured character), he stalks catnip. Up, down, under...no jar or shelf is safe. But he does enjoy it...and he shares....

Fishing in the Cooper Bowl kept him busy for a full evening...and when the pouches started hitting the floor (they're hitting the ground like bags of wet cement!!), it kept the black and white brigade further busy...

So after a tough day, the next time you're trying to relax, Master Beans suggests you stick your head in a bowl...and fish for catnip....

lawn sign diplomacy

The battle of the lawn signs continues...
One neighbour gets a sign for a party...a nearby neighbour gets a bigger one....or a pair...then somebody else a few doors down gets into the fray. Where do lawn signs go to die after the voting is done?

There's a house I drive by that seems to have it right: a sign from every party...every election. It's quite civil. I wonder what the volunteers and scrutineers think about it. The first sign planter must feel a little thrill when the sign goes into the lawn. The second sign plunker to the post must think it's either the other domestic partner or they've won a convert. What happens when the third one gets there and sees the first two? Maybe Arnold Ziffel lives there and just called the offices.

This morning, the tricolour sign armada stood proudly...Conservative (Reform Lite)...Liberal...NDP. Maybe the Greens and the Liberterians are slow getting out....I do miss the Rhinos...now they were a party.

A few of us in the office know each other well enough to talk about how we vote (we're not competitive about how we poll...and we're all shrewd enough to be a bit cynical about all of the options we have). One of my favourite Conservatives (I have a large collection of Conservative friends...not so many of the Reform stripe) who is clever enough to realize that the lunatics currently running the blue asylum are not as progressive as those the overthrew offered an intriguing thought today: what if a good bunch of us vote Green? His logic was this: we're going to get the same collection of dullards we have now so if we all vote Green, it will send a message that the environment is a serious concern for Canadians.

In essence, the current crew of politicians simply want a sustainable gig (that's almost environmental) so if they see we're voting Green, odds are good they'll take up that cause. I thought that was a brilliant observation. We were voting Green to help them get their deposits back and keep them coming out to play. They seem sane and polite. We want to encourage that and clean fuel...
Plus, my friend Dan the Libertarian isn't running this time. I'd want him to get his deposit back as well....

i admit it...i'm watching the alleged debate from points south

Gee whiz, but I hope they won't take my passport for this...
I can name all the leaders -- Gilles included -- but the Canuck crew is blessedly boring (except possibly for the fellow who cribbed from the Aussie PM -- crickey!). Our only female leader has a law degree and way more than half a brain.

I wanted to see the shiny Alaskan dollie...
She actually does a reasonable Tina Fey...and she smiles as she's mentioning soccer parents.
I like the moderators who keep asking both of the Vice-Presidential candidates to answer the original questions rather than ripping and pontificating. And when did we start referring to potential Presidents as 'John' and 'Barack'?

What happened in Alaska that we can't say a word ending in 'g' -- runnin' with John (I hope that's not literal, bless their hearts, because he's not up for that...)
OH DEAR LORD SHE'S SAYIN' NEW-QUE-LEUR.....AND EYE-RACK...
What are we gonna do if she offends the EYE-TALIANS...or maybe she'll play to their soccer Moms.
(I'm thinkin' the Italian soccer Moms can take her....)

Smoke and mirrors...bobbing and weaving...
These moderators are better than dog trainers for bringing these candidates back to the ring and making them focus.

How do her lips stay that shiny after she's been talkin' all this time?
Lacquer, it's not just for big hair and stainin' the picnic table any more.