the water clears. breakfast is served. good morning to you from pancake, waffle and zippy. no sign of Bruce. I'm betting Bruce went to the goldfish tank in the sky. I take full responsibility even though Bruce made it impossible to keep him in the safe waters of foremost and pixie's tank. the morning in question he had knocked the castle over on top of foremost. I did at that moment lose my composure and literally threw him in the turtle tank. he had tripled in size in the ensuing days. perhaps pancake caught up with him, she was the turtle most interested in bruce. she's been at his heels the entire time. if the anybody caught up to and ate Bruce it will have been her. that's what I call the epitome of tank enrichment. maybe I ought to buy more feeders for them to hunt. pancake would out-hunt everyone, might not pan out to be fair, but that would be nature asserting itself wouldn't it? something to consider. they already get live meal worms about twice a month. they relish it. my murderous little dinosaur troupe. I have no doubt Bruce met a horrible end. take this lesson, my lovelies, never name your feeder fish. it makes making the right decision more difficult than it has to be. this morning we salute Bruce the goldfish. the most honery fish to ever grace the manor aquatic collection. May he vex the denizens of the other side as well as he did in this verdant dimension. May he never meet a zookeeper such as me again.
we brought our Jalapenos and bell peppers inside last night as it seemed to finally be the arrival of any truly arctic air. today's plan is to bring the front porch, which is an enclosed porch, into shape as a sitting area. it is the first impression someone gets as they enter the manor. right now they encounter one of my three pantries. the first impression I've been sending is that of a prepper. artemesia and I, the salt and the prepper. they oughta see my ammo collection. but we don't even show artemesia such a thing. prepping 101, you do not talk about prepping. we got this under control, sunshine. I got your back.
that's my only concrete plan for today. everything else will be improv. !like most days.
homemade chicken noodle is the plan for lunch. coffee, muffins and cigars for breakfast. the old stomach is complaining but we don't have to listen.
the coffee is so good this morning, caramel is my favourite. Mostly we stick to the good ole standard coffee, artemesia is not as fond of caramel coffee as I am. I concede this position about 99% of the time, much as I do for everything else. what artemesia wants artemesia gets. My undying love is martyrdom. As it should be. What that I could find more subtle ways to serve and more hidden ways to say I love you, I would say it with every breath. If nothing else, I am the dutiful lover, ever vigilant. you all should be so lucky. my love is luxury embodied. Too expensive for most, as it's wages are honesty and integrity. far too many are lacking and far too few can measure up. artemesia is like the third bowl of porridge, just right. don't tell her I said this. Her towering ego is inflated enough. Not that she doesn't deserve it, she certainly deserves every bit of praise that can be heaped upon her. we may similarly deserve her scorn, but lets try to avoid that this morning. I'm a silly putty man fearful of the scornful looks I'm certain to receive upon the rising of artemesia. it makes my coffee taste better, this atmosphere of matriarchal tyranny. I live for it. The blood courses ever-crimson in my veins over it. She is the life blood that feeds my survival.
happy turtles say they love you from the manor in harm city. have a peaceful and restful caturday from all of my critters to all of yours.
we make her a caramel coffee and stow it in the microwave. we dare not disturb what little sleep she may be getting. People say I'm old-fashioned but I believe in sleeping separately in fact I believe a woman should have her own chambers to retire to. for privacy and for pursuits that are wholly hers. She deserves that space as much as I deserve mine. So yes, artemesia has her own chambers here at the manor. Our marriage is stronger because I do not force her to share a bed and vice versa. Take it from me your marriage will fair better if you don't try to force anything at all. Force is a word you should leave at the door. daily advice.
happy caturday from all of us, human and critter alike, here at the manor in harm city.
