Pete and I were reading in bed last night, and there was a sort of scrabbling from under the bed. Kittins do scrabble, of course, but there seemed somehow to be a more concentrated aspect to this than usual.
So Pete got out and had a look. And found a rat. Dead, thankfully, but not for long, as it hadn’t stiffened up. Also thankfully, it was intact, despite Ron and Henry’s best efforts to open it. Pete has disposed of it.
A rat in February seems quite odd, and they certainly didn’t catch it themselves. We can only surmise that Aunt Lilith brought it in for them, as she is the only cat we have now who rats (as far as we know, of course). Perhaps she has commenced some sort of training regime.
|Originally published at the Tribe.|
1.5kg chicken thighs turned into lemony chicken with coriander, and chicken tagine with apricot and chickpeas.
All the old veg chopped up and made into soup for next week, with the stock from the gammon cooked in ginger beer (which worked really well).
All helped by Lily sitting on the recipe sheet. But she did do it beautifully …
Lilith and Mustrum
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we keep a wicker shopping basket hanging on a hook on the coat rack, and inside that lives a smaller jute bag for light shopping duties.
as I needed to pop out to the bakery and the off licence (for milk and cream, before you all nod in a knowing manner), the small jute bag would suffice.
so I put on my coat, put my hand into the outer bag and *screamed*, as I encountered something quite alien to the jutey texture I was expecting.
What on earth was it, then?