Who's Training Who?

Have you ever seen the guy in Key West who has the cat show? He's been doing it for years I think. It's as if you're watching a rummy lion tamer but there are no lions or tigers. Only cats. He even manages to get several of them to jump through a ring of fire. There's more humor than drama to be sure but it's a great show. And he's definitely running his show. 

This is completely unlike what goes on at my house. At my house, the cats are running the show.

We have my mom's Randy, who sits at his cat door but refuses to exit through it. He insists on being let out the front door. Just so you know, these two doors are side by side. The cat door is only worthy when he's dragging in a trophy. Well usually. The white bunny he brought home was apparently too much to manage so he clawed at the front door with the bunny in his mouth til my mom opened it.

Then there's my Lucy who will only drink water running from the tub and who must have the food in her bowl jiggled before she'll eat it. Literally everyday one or the other of us humans in the house will fill her bowl but if it sits for any length of time another one of us must walk over to it, pick it up and jiggle it.

We've clearly taken the wrong path with these animals. We either have to go back to being dog people or we need some advice. I'm thinking there's a trip to Key West in my future - just to consult the guy with the cat show.

Although I could use another Hemingway Cat t-shirt. Mine's sad even for a paint shirt at this point.

Oh, get this. Lucy has now begun bringing cicadas into the house at night. At first it was erie to hear that sound inside but now I very much like it. It's certainly lovlier than the sound a bird makes as he tries to escape from Lucy and flies into the ceiling fan.

When Unexpected Guests Arrive

This morning I feel like sharing one of the pieces to be in Steeped: The Vagaries and Delights of a Tea Adventurer.

Here you go:

It's a lovely sound, don't you think? That quiet tinkling of a spoon against the sides of a porcelain cup? Of course, some say making such noise during tea is a sign of poor breeding, but I don't see how such a comforting sound could possibly be called noise. Now, real noise was...well, there's really no need to discuss such unpleasantness, is there?

Surely you'll try a ginger scone? Perhaps later. Ah, do you hear that...maybe we've another visitor? My goodness, what an afternoon we're having. If you'll excuse me...

Officer Moore! What a surprise! Imagine two unexpected guests in one day! but really young man, I know your mama! Surely she didn't teach you to simply burst through one's door? Never mind, we're certainly glad to have you, aren't we? Three makes for such a festive party. Would you like a cup of tea?

Pardon me? I don't really know, Officer Moore. He hasn't yet mentioned his name. But why don't you sit right there - yes, right next to him. Just move that tea tray off to the side. It rather looks the worse for wear, doesn't it?

Oh dear, now you've gone and gotten yourself all bloody. Here, use this to clean yourself up. I'm afraid it's the only clean napkin I have left, but it is real linen. Indeed, he's quite a sight, isn't he?

It's amazing the uses one finds for a good sterling tea tray. Sugar?"

There you have it. Now, let me tell you how this came about for it was experimental for me. This piece is technically defined as a flash story and as far as flash stories go, the shorter and more intense the better. They must furnish a twist, elicit some emotion, and ideally stick with you for awhile. The classic is Hemingway's: "For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn." Clearly this is a strong and well done flash story with unusually brilliant conciseness, although I doubt we'd expect anything else from Mr. H.

Ever since I wrote my first teatime comedy murder mystery, A Teatime Travesty, I've been intrigued with the possibilities of villains at tea.

And, some years ago Dawnya Sasse of Start a Tea Business sent me a news article about an elderly woman in the UK who fended off a burglar by clobbering him with her sterling silver tea tray.

Don't you love it when the stars fall into perfect alignment?

I should also mention that all the essays in Steeped are accompanied by 2-3 recipes of my own creation. As Blood Red Marmalade and Canapes to Die For seemed a little over the top, I opted instead for "Recipes for Unexpected Guests."

It's 6:30 am and there is rolling thunder outside calling to me. Aside from sharing this with you so early, I'm also in the mood to walk the beach as the sun rises so I best scoot. But, tell me what you thought. Did you like it? Did you see the twist coming? Would you call it a strong flash story?