R (The cat)
Life in the basement has been warm and dark. I awaken occasionally from my mushroom like state to eat and go outside, returning quickly to the warmth of the wood stove and to my currents projects. These include finding a job and making my website (no don’t bother looking there yet, its still that really confusing moving mosaic thingy). In addition to this I have been avidly studying the behaviour of K & D’s cat R (her name is abbreviated to protect the innocent).
R (the cat) was found in a barn as a kitten and was brought clawing and hissing into civilisation. From here she has advanced to the stage of being entirely petrified of my little niece I (and rightly so, ‘I’ doesn’t quite grasp the concept of gently yet, although has grasped the concept of grasping quite well.
) In most other respects she is quite a normal cat, except when she eats. In the kitchen there are two cat sized bowls, one filled with water and the other with small cat biscuits (for some bizarre experiment the water is the control group, but I haven’t worked out what the experiment is yet). R approaches the biscuit bowl apprehensively, particularly so on this occasion because she knows I’m filming her. Will she eat some biscuit? Or won’t she? Luckily we didn’t buy Schrödinger’s brand of cat food. Miraculously she does and after a week of failed filming attempts she also does her strange eating habit around which his paragraph will hopefully climax. Extending a paw and using a cupping action she scoops a single biscuit onto the floor in front of her. She eats it.
The rail bridge
And then she does it again. One single small biscuit at a time. Having spent too long in the basement I find this quite entertaining (also Canadian TV is all adverts, which wouldn’t be so bad but it’s the same ones repeated every 5 mins). After spurious repetition she has eaten her fill, at which point she saunters off in the direction of the sofa’s to catch the last of the sunlight. Why does she do this? Maybe only she knows why. Please see attached video and pass your own judgement.
Today I escaped the basement, wiping the crumbs of my cheese sandwich from my mouth as I left and ventured into the blinding light of the outdoors. I picked up L, my trusty venturing companion and we drove for ½ an hour up to a village called Belfountain situated on the credit river.
at the CityTV building in Toronto. The lights flash and the front wheels spin and everything!
As we drove up, the roads and fields turned quickly from a dusting of snow to being half a foot under. Soon everything had a perfect even coat of white. We stopped the car at the top of the escarpment, which forms part of the Bruce trail (we walked a different part of it on an earlier blog entry) and stomped into a snowy forest. Following a steep path down we eventually came out onto a railway line and still further down we came to the credit river. We followed the road a short distance and then hiked back up the valley side behind the rail bridge. At the top we didn’t attempt to cross the snow-covered rail bridge, with its slippery wooden sleepers spaced ankle-breaking distance apart. After not attempting to cross the bridge, we doubled back and followed the railway to our original path.
View from the top of the escarpment
Further up the hill we got distracted by the disused limekiln workings and poked around there for a bit. There would be some really great climbing there in summer, so I must go back.
On the drive back L directed me up to Caledon ski club, which looks quite cool. It’s small slopes are quite inviting as I’ve only skied once before, so I might try and get a lesson.
Whilst looking for sturdy career related jobs (I’m a small time super hero if anyone has a position open in the Toronto area. My special abilities include cheese sandwiches and discretely filming cats) as I was saying whilst looking for jobs I am also looking for bar work (as a temporary measure).
The credit river
In Ontario you need to be SmartServe qualified to legally serve alcohol, so I booked myself on to a course to gain the qualification. The course was last night, held on some bar stools in a nightclub in Toronto in a disorganised fashion. We watched a film that was made sometime in the eighties, the teacher stopped occasionally to give the laptop a kick and to answer a few questions. At the end there was a multiple-choice exam consisting of 25 questions, to which most of the answers genuinely seamed to be (d) – All of the above. We will see in a few weeks time if I’ve been:
(a) A total prat in answering option (d) too many times.
(b) A small time super hero with abilities in the category of cheese sandwiches.
(c) Tom Cruise in ‘Cocktail’.
(d) All of the above.