Happy Leap Day 2020

An oldie, but a goodie...

Every Picture Tells a Story 2/28/20

Every Picture Tells a Story 2/27/20

Every Picture Tells a Story 2/26/20

"Hurry up, please--it's time."

Every (Kitty) Picture Tells a Story 2/25/20

This is Mimi. She's another of Mom's cats. (Mom has four in total right now. Yes, this is an ongoing series.)

She's named for her sound--she cries out. A LOT. Sometimes when she's hungry. Usually just for attention. In a house with four cats, this can be a challenge.

You might think that's cute. And it is--except when she does it at three in the morning.

Then? Not so cute.

Every Picture Tells a Story 2/24/20

Yet another party I was not invited to.

Every Picture Tells a (Yummy) Story 2/21/20

You know what would be good right now on a cold February day in Chicago? A nice, warm bowl of white borscht soup from Rich's Deli.

Every (Kitty) Picture Tells a Story 2/20/20

This? Is not a photo of Olivia.

This? Is Cocoa, another one of Mom's cats.

She's pretty young--most likely between two and three years old--and is the closest to feral of all of Mom's cats.

She was tricked into coming into the house (with the offer of food as the lure) and had to be kept from running back out into the yard (which she managed to do a couple of times anyway, only to be lured back into the house later with the promise of food--stupid cat).

She's very skittish--will not be picked up or held, nor will she sit in your lap or come when called.

She will, however, sit on the back of the couch and allow herself to be petted. Her fur is, as you'd imagine, very soft.

And? She's absolutely devoted to Moose, for some reason. He seems indifferent to her attentions at best (and hostile at worst), yet she cuddles up with him whenever possible. They can often be found together in the cardboard box just outside the bathroom.

Every Picture Tells a Story 2/19/20

Every (Kitty) Picture Tells a Story 2/18/20

And now? "The Kitties of Mom's House, Part 1:

This is Moose. He's one of Mom's cats. And easily the largest of Mom's cats--he weights somewhere between 15 and 20 lbs. And none of that is fat.

He's an old fellow--note the gray/white hairs in his muzzle--but he hasn't slowed down with age. He still chases the other cats around the house, especially Lincoln, the youngest (and other male) cat.

He also stands outside Mom's bedroom door and yowls for her attention--usually he just wants to be fed, but sometimes he just wants someone to come out and play with him. I accommodate him as much as possible, but I'm not home much of the day, and Mom spends most of her time in the bedroom with her door closed.

Sometimes, because Mom moves so slowly these days, Moose makes a mad dash into her bedroom, usually late at night. This leads me to be treated to Mom yelling at him over and over ("Moose...MOOSE...MOOSE!") until I get up and shag him out of her bedroom myself. Then I try (try) to go back to sleep--if, in fact, I'd been asleep at all. (And considering that I'm still sleeping on Mom's living room couch...yeah, no.)

Every Picture Tells a Story 2/17/20

Today's rare occurrence: Me, wearing an earring.

Valentine's Day 2020

Every Picture Tells a Story 2/13/20

This Week's Travel Reading: Maybe(?) Shakespeare Edition

In 1728, a "new" play by William Shakespeare was published by one Lewis Theobald, entitled Double Falsehood, or the Distressed Lovers. It was based, in part, on Cervantes' Don Quixote (or, more specifically, the "Cardenio" section of that novel) and was allegedly co-written by Shakespeare's later writing partner, John Fletcher (who'd also co-authored The Two Noble Kinsmen and Henry the VIII). Theobald also claimed to have "adapted" the play for performance, adding yet another coat of rhetorical paint to Shakespeare's original work.

Most critics dismissed Theobald's claims as either theatrical ballyhoo (at best) or rank forgery and deception (at worst), especially when the warehouse where the alleged manuscripts were stored burned to the ground, taking the manuscripts with it to the ash bin.

Then, over 100 years later, something amazing happened: Evidence was found that there really had been a play called Cardenio, written by Shakespeare and Fletcher, performed in 1613.

So...was Theobald telling the truth? Was Double Falsehood really an adaptation of a lost Shakespeare/Fletcher collaboration?

Unless an actual manuscript turns up, we're not likely to know for sure. I read Double Falsehood back in college and thought, at the time, that there were Shakespearean aspects to the work. Now? I'm reading it again, nearly 40 years later, in a thoroughly annotated edition from Arden.

"The play's the thing..."

Every Picture Tells a Story 2/12/20

Every Picture Tells a Story 2/11/20

Every Picture Tells a Story 2/4/20

Every Picture Tells a Story 2/3/20

Yet another party I was not invited to.