the last 3 posts have been non-cat-related, I figure I'm due for some catblogging! We are down to a total of 7 cats within the household, down from a grand total of 12. And 4 of them are residents anyway, so we really only have 3 more cats to adopt out!

Chester went home last night, he was a total angel pretty much the whole time. He's moving in with another Russian Blue, maybe it'll be like the Ugly Duckling in reverse, he'll be all like "What's this? There are other cats as beautiful as am I? Heavens to betsy!"

As for the remaining kittens, we have leads for both Tumbleweed and Baby Bones (the latter of whom is currently getting neutered). Baby Bones has been here so long he finally hit puberty and has been running around humping all the other cats, which they disturbingly don't seem to mind (even the boys). If this all goes through, it will leave Monkey, who is probably just fine with that.

Monkey is the only female of this batch, and has never really gotten over her skittishness. She lets us pet her and doesn't even freak out when we pick her up, but she hasn't yet 'asked' to be petted; she can take us or leave us. things are complicated by the fact that we have her mom (Flossie) in as well. She can sort of depend on her for all her mothering needs, reducing us to food-bringers and string-shakers.

But if Baby Bones can find a home, there's hope for us all! He's still got issues too, but he's finally come to the conclusion that people might be okay. He's running a full month behind his brothers on that tip, but who's keeping track? I am, that's who.

Of course, all this cat stuff ignores the other side of the fence, the outdoor cats (which, if you add all indoor and outdoors cats currently under our tutelage it's more like ... 12). Since I put out my upgraded cat shelters, they have been occupied not by the cats I built them for, but two cats new to the patio. One is Grumpus, who looks mean but actually seems very nice. The other box contains a young gray and white cat of indeterminate sex. I have another cat condo on the way, I'm hoping regular visitor Baxter will take advantage, or (God Forbid!) Freddie, the Outdoor Cat We Kidnapped From Clinton Hill.

I don't know where she spend her nights but she comes for food every day and is way more affectionate now than she was as an indoor cat. I had hoped she would use the cat-house but apparently she's too good for that. We still theorize she breaks into the abandoned church rectory behind our house, which I must admit beats the hell out of a storage tub lined with Styrofoam.

Labels: Cats, Feral, kittens, Strays, The Yard

I cooked a lot for Thanksgiving. I sort of wish I had just heated up some tater tots and left it at that. I think of all that time I spent putting stuff together when I could have been lounging on the couch or sleeping just a little bit later. Jen and Michael had the right idea to go out for the holiday!

Of course, I say this now on Monday morning, when those previously-endless hours of paid time off seemed to stretch on forever, and I simply can't believe I spent all that time cooking when I could have been lazily dangling a string over the cat's head while I watched Judge Mathis.

The thing I like about cooking is also sort of its downfall to me: You can spend days cooking stuff, trying your darnedest to make something good, but either way it's all pretty much over with in a matter of minutes. Food is served, you eat it, and suddenly it's no longer an issue of cuisine, but an issue of who's gonna wash all these damn dishes? Evanescence, thy name is dinner.

Still, I must say that I got a chance to work on some recipes more complex than I usually can attempt during the week. In place of Tofurky (which Jeannine has deemed "the most disgusting thing ever"; I plan on attempting a vegan haggis next year!) I made pot-pies filled with vegetables and seitan. They came out really well, though, truth be told, a little pot-pie goes a long way. I didn't have ramekins or whatever and wasn't about to purchase any in case this turned out to be a one-time recipe. But all the shops on Broadway were selling foil pans of varying sizes, so I picked up a few smallish round tins. They were probably 8 inches across and probably about 2x the size they should have been. Considering that other elements of the meal included something we call "stuffing," the watchword should have leaned towards light fare. Instead we foolishly tried to consume the aforementioned stuffing with potatoes, bread with roasted garlic, the aforementioned pot pies, a couple of dessert pies, not to mention all the stuff our housemates made. Conclusion: pot pies, good; lack of portion-control, bad.

The upside of course has been the perpetuation of leftovers, which will follow us well into this week. Of course my tolerance for potatoes is waning, but I'm coping. Additional revelations of the cooking ordeal include making seitan. I never thought about making it before, but it's super easy (like kneading dough but easier and harder to screw up). As a meat replacer it's generally better than tofu, although I don't know if I would risk the seitan "turkey" described in this recipe.

The above link however did provide some good vegan dessert pie recipes. I made the pumpkin and pecan pies, both of which were quite passable. The pumpkin pie in particular could probably pass muster with a little tweaking. Unlike most vegan recipes, this one didn't call for tofu, which I think is what made it good. Really it doesn't have much in it besides pumpkin and some cornstarch; I feel that too often tofu gets thrown into these recipes when it's not really needed. Tofu is an amazing product, but I sure would like to use less of it.

The pecan pie was also tolerable, but I think I can do it better now that I've done it once. I should point out that none of this stuff can qualify as really vegan since I used ready-made crusts from the store, which has whey in it for some reason. I find it difficult to practice moral absolutism when it comes to stuff that requires a rolling pin.

Most of the other recipes I used were from my new cookbook, Veganomicon. The authors of the book are from Brooklyn, so there is a nice narrative bent that NYC residents will enjoy. I'm only a few recipes into it so far, but it's very handy to have a cookbook of basic stuff that I don't have to transpose into vegetarian terms (like I must in my oft-thumbed copy of Joy of Cooking). I still need to find a vegan cookbook for really lazy people who really want to just lie on the couch and dangle string for the cats.

P.S. I really wanted to try Abby's Crispy Kale recipe, so I picked up a couple bunches and started feeding them into the oven. However, a slight miscalculation: I got mustard greens by mistake! The result, while edible, wasn't quite ready for prime time, so we've got it stashed in the kitchen. I feel like such a dork for not getting the right stuff, I can only blame myself and the fact that the market had their bushels of greens out on the sidewalk, and it was already dark by the time I got there. I know what kale looks like! I'm sure I do! I do like mustard greens but they don't really require the extra effort of kale, which is probably why they came out looking like somebody beat rent money out of them.

Labels: Cooking, Holidays, Vegan

Somehow in all my years living in this city, I don't think I've ever gotten coffee served to me in one of those "We are happy to serve you," Greek-Styley paper coffee cups. I am of course familiar with them, as an icon of New York City, and have been known to buy coffee on the go from time to time. But somehow I never happen upon a vendor who uses the famous design.

I read up on the cup, it was designed by a Leslie Buck in 1963, who named it "The Anthora." This was an apparent misspelling of the Greek word, "Amphora," which refers to a vessel meant for carrying wine or oil (note such vessel on the cup, nice!). Though a Czech immigrant himself, Buck's inspiration for the design was in the fact that most diners in those days were owned and operated by folks of Greek descent. A research topic for another day: Why did so many Greeks open diners in America and where did they all go?

Anyway, cool cup; I never get one. Until the other day! Or so I thought. On my way to work, I stopped off at a coffee cart, mostly because the coffee in my office sucks and I was hankering for something at least diner-quality. The guy handed me my coffee, I saw a flash of navy blue and beige lettering and got excited. Finally! I got one!

Not so much:
Now, there have been several variations on the original theme, but this is pretty lame. It's just sad, isn't it? Not only is the design a pale pretender to the original, with its pitiful grouped squares, 'sketch-style' coffee cups, and mirthless sans-serif font, but these guys aren't even happy to serve me, merely "pleased." And frankly, I don't think I even buy that.

To their credit, they do give you coffee and a bagel for one dollar, not bad for 2007, I guess.

And now, for Al, the Propaganda Cup:

Labels: Bad Stuff, Coffee, Funny to Me

At the other end of our street is The Silent Barn, a performance space that has seen its share of amazing shows. Problem is, I haven't been to hardly any. The last time I was there was New Year's Eve, which was like a year ago. Yikes! I'm not sure why we never get over there, perhaps it's because of our odd distance from it.

The place is about a mile from my house. To get there by subway, I'd have to take the J train at Halsey down to Broadway Junction and transfer to the L, and take it up to ... Halsey. But you know, on the other side of Halsey. This seems prohibitively roundabout, so we've never done it.

The moere obvious way to get there is take the B26 bus straight across Halsey to our destination. We did this before and it works, but only on the way out. Considering it was past 4am when we were coming home, no bus showed. We ended up walking the whole way back, and I don't believe we saw a bus in either direction. However, I did find a discarded broomstick I needed for the poly applicators we had to refinish our floors. In retrospect, the long walk probably did much to stave off a hangover, but still: I'm Old. I Want Convenient Travel Options.

Anyway I bring this up apropos of Parts & Labor playing there with Ex-Models side project Knyfe Hyts on Saturday evening. We haven't seen them in forever, and I think they have a new drummer now, so what the hell, we'll go check it out. I recommend the band (unless hte new drummer sucks) and the venue. AND I heartily recommend patronizing the gas station down the street; they sell CornNuts.

Labels: Bands, Bushwick, Mass Transit, Shows

Tomorrow Rudy goes to his new home. To the left is form the first night we saw him, September 13th. It took another month before we got him and his brothers inside, and another month to groom him into respectability. I am sad to see him go, and I wonder, having never had an orange tabby before, are they known for being especially friendly/playful?

He still has some feral characteristics, like not liking being picked up, and scattering at top speed if he think he's been caught doing something wrong (like sleeping in the bathroom sink). But otherwise he's been a great little cat, though maybe not so little anymore.


He is basically 3x the size he was in the top photo. All the older kittens have grown amazingly, which is fascinating, although I fear it will make the last of the brothers a tougher sell. But you can look at them and tell they've still got plenty of room to grow, they have that puppy look, their paws are too big and they have this general appearance of transition. I suspect he's gonna be enormous by the time he's done.

When he's gone we'll have his brother and three smaller kittens. The remaining brother, Baby Bones (at right, we're considering renaming "Newman" since he's a little like the Seinfeld guy) will be on his own, I'm not sure how he'll cope with it. He's been the hardest case so far, keeping his distance from us and not getting into the whole 'house cat' concept. But he's making progress: he finally learned how to take cat treats from my hand, and he now allows limited petting when he's on the bed. I think when he's without his brothers (Ira went home last weekend), he'll have no choice but to come around. He better!

More Photos of all them kittens

Labels: Cats, Feral, kittens, Photos

So Tumbleweed the kitten went to the vet and after a lot of poking and prodding, he was deemed disease and parasite-free. I guess this is one of those situations where I will be glad to get this confirmation form the vet, and not focus on the money I just blew to have this guy tell me he's fine. In fact, form the moment we brought him home, he started acting better, playing and eating more regularly.

He still lacks the vigor of some of the other kittens, but he's getting better. All the other cats like him, especially Rudy (pictured) and Jefe, who groom him and play with him without getting too violent. His personality is already perfect, as soon as he puts on some more weight, he'll be ready to go.

Speaking of going, Gladys and Ira departed this weekend to their new homes. Rudy was supposed to go but his owner had to reschedule for next weekend. Fine with me, he's a lovely little cat. This week I'm focusing on finding Chester the Russian Blue a new home, and working on his sister Monkey to get her better socialized. She had taken to hiding in the basement a lot, so we're trying to force her to deal with us more directly. Meanwhile our other hard case, Baby Bones, has been letting us pet him under the right situations, which is a huge step in his development. If things keep up at this pace, we'll be all out of kittens in a couple of weeks. The house already feels empty but it will be good to have fewer felines running around: my allergies have been going nuts lately.

I haven't considered myself allergic since I was a kid, but with the dander of so many different cats present these days, my fragile system can't keep up. The upside is it forces me to clean house way more often than I would otherwise, but it's never enough. I keep thinking about getting one of those little air sanitizers that you wear around your neck, but I'm walking a pretty thin line already. If I become the Crazy Cat Guy Who Wears an Air Conditioner Around his Neck, I'll never be able to leave the house again.

Instead, I'll stick with being That Guy Who Looks Like Moby To Drunk People. While out the other night these people came up to me and asked for my autograph. I explained I was not in fact Moby, but then they said they didn't care and wanted the autograph anyway. I thought they were joking, but then another guy came up and excitedly asked, "Did he sign??" So I signed on the condition that they give Mark a cigarette. Would the real Moby do that?

Labels: Cats, Funny to Me, kittens

Two cats have technically been adopted out! Shoehorn, now named Lynx, is off to the other end of Halsey Street, to join a Bengal cat and a monitor lizard. And even more exciting, Gladys has found a permanent home in Park Slope! I have been so worried about her chances for adoption since she's basically an adult cat. I mean, in reality she's probably not more than 9 months old, but in the high-stakes world of pet adoption, everything seems to be "Young/Small Rules." Gladys is, to me, the cutest cat in our stable, but because she's grown, I feared she would be a hard sell. And indeed, when people came to see her, she didn't disappoint. That is, she DID disappoint.

She's a super sweet cat, and getting sweeter all the time, but when people came to see her, she didn't take the attention well. The other cats were all over the place, which unnerves her. Plus she's probably not used to having so many people stare at her, while I frantically try to get her to do something amusing. But luckily, her new adoptive mom was able to see through Gladys' aloof act, and will be picking her up on Saturday. For a moment there, we were down to single digits for total number of cats! For a moment.

They same night Lynx/Shoehorn went to his new home, his mother paid us a visit. We hadn't seen her in a while, and she's very skittish so she never stays long. But she brought with her ... you guessed it! Another kitten. This one is clearly not her kitten, it's far too young. It is possible it is one of Flossie's kittens, but it seems unlikely she would have left it out to fend for itself so young. The new kitten is a dark orange tabby, can't be more than 10 weeks old, and is skin and bones.

When he showed up, he was a total mess, dirt all over the place. So we gave him a bath to at least restore some of his dignity. He was a total mush for the bath and aftermath, we rolled him in a towel and help him in our laps to keep him warm. He purred and napped for most of it. When he dried sufficiently, we laid him, in the towel, on the couch between us. He rested some more ... then experienced explosive diarrhea.

I feel so bad for the little guy, he kept pooping uncontrollably for the rest of the night. He's getting better already, but it's gotta be demoralizing for a cat. He's had dewormer so I'm hoping it will clear up shortly. But he's such an adorable little furball, we're really hoping he pulls through fast so we can get to pimping him out (in a good way). His fur, even when clean, sticks out like straw, so we've been calling him Tumbleweed. What's one more kitten, more or less, right? Right?

Don't forget: tomorrow night MOTICO plays Goodbye Blue Monday at 10PM! You know you want it. Plus you want a kitten. Several kittens.

Labels: Cats, Feral, kittens, Motico, Shows

Labels: Cats, kittens