Furminator and the Qatteri Cat
The poor Qatteri Cat with his luxurious thick furry coat starts getting a little uncomfortable around this time of the year, when the temperatures rise, and by May or June, he starts getting lumps in his fur – no matter how often I comb him. Sometimes he even gets nasty and takes a nip at me while I am trying to comb.
Friends with long haired cats have the same complaints. Some recommend the lion cut, which makes the cats look like furry poodles, all shaved on their main bodies, with furry heads and feet and tails. I was even thinking that might be the solution for QC. I’ve been chasing him around with little manicure scissors and carefully cutting off knobs of fur when they appear – and then I saw the Furminator.
Someone had mentioned it once, or mentioned finding a tool that somehow cut out part of the cats fur and the cats loved the feeling. Maybe Vixen? But she couldn’t remember the name.
The Furminator has metal teeth in two sizes, and the smaller ones, I think, are razor sharp. The longer teeth are not, so you brush, nothing gets snagged, but as you brush, rolls and rolls of excess fur come rolling out. It’s kind of a miracle and it’s kind of gross, but if you keep a garbage can nearby while you brush, you can just put it directly in the trash. I Find QC napping, I talk softly and brush softly. He doesn’t mind a bit. You wouldn’t believe how much hair you can brush out of a cat with this tool.
They have their own website The Furminator and they have different sizes, from cat to dog to horse.
You can order them, I discovered, through amazon.com.
Qatteri Cat is happy not to have the lion cut. 🙂
QC Misses AdventureMan
When AdventureMan goes out the door, the Qatteri Cat doesn’t alway realize he is gone for a few minutes. Then I hear him crying, crying as he runs in to our bed, grabs his teddy-bear-baby and takes it to the door. He cries for a few minutes, and then leaves the baby there.
He is always sad when AdventureMan leaves. He sleeps a lot, just waiting for him to come home. He knows when it is about time. I always know when he is nearby because suddenly Qatteri Cat is on full alert, ears straight up, eyes big – and he jumps down and runs to the door, even before the key is in the lock.
Hurry home, AdventureMan!
Qatteri Cat Gets Crazy
A windy night plays havok with getting a good night’s sleep, if you have a cat. It is just the way God made cats – any little strange noise and watch what happens – their ears go straight up, their eyes go on high alert and their posture is ready-for-action.
We had one cat, a cat born wild in Tunisia, and on a windy night in Germany, she would make us totally crazy. “I must go out! I must go out!” she would cry as the wind blew leaves fluttering across the patio and tree branches made strange motions in the shadows. I would struggle half-awake down the stairs, let her out the patio door, and 15 minutes later she would be crying down under my window “I’ve made a big mistake! It’s cold out here! Please come down and let me in!” and I would struggle down the stairs and let her in and tell her to settle down, that I wasn’t going to let her out again.
Her little brain can’t remember all that. An hour later, she would forget “cold” and was crazy with desire to be out where all the action was, once again. And the cycle continued. She had me trained. I was her door opener.
The Qatteri Cat doesn’t go out, but he gets wound up by the wind, as any cat will. AdventureMan calmed him down last night, and he curled up and went back to sleep. Guess AdventureMan will always be the favorite with the Qatteri Cat.
This is what Weather Underground Kuwait calls a “light haze.”
My windows are streaked with dust and humidity.
Murky Morning
It is one of those transitional weather days, not raining, not clear, somewhere in between and it could go either way:
I was sleeping soundly and happily this morning when I heard a very very loud “AAACCCCKKKKKKK” and I jumped out of bed, adrenaline pumping, thinking “Is someone strange in the house?” I listened, didn’t hear anything else, so went to the living room where the Qatteri Cat was lying on the floor. Maybe a blade of grass tickled his throat (I make bowls of grass for him to help digestion; long haired cats get clogs sometimes) or maybe he sneezed, or jumped down from his high perch by the window, I don’t know. I patted him and he followed me back to bed where we both snoozed a little until time to get up.
Welcome Rain in Kuwait
AdventureMan is snuggling up against me, shivering in the cold, Qatteri Cat is snuggled up close on the other side, and I can hear the wind howling at our bedroom window. It sounds like an Arctic blizzard; the wind is relentless. It feels so good to be in bed, to be able to go back to sleep, so warm and cozy, and then AdventureMan whispers “It’s raining outside.”
Three minutes later, I am up and out of bed, going to the closet for old towels.
Kuwait isn’t built for rain. Our beautiful big windows were sealed . . . once. I think the heat has destroyed the seals. When we get a serious rain, I get some serious leakage. It dribbles onto the windowsills and then slithers across the floor. I have to get the towels in place immediately, or I have a real mess.
And, (sigh) once I am up, I am up. I brew the coffee, run some water to wash up some dishes and watch the day lighten incrementally – no sunrise today, but I love the sound of the raindrops falling, falling, falling.
We need more. The rain is an occasion for joy, here, not like in Seattle, where we get so much rain that we take it for granted.
Rain on the Gulf:
Rain on the windows:
Warming Sunrise
I can always tell when the temperatures are going back up. The Qatteri cat is no longer sleeping all curled up in a tight little ball as close to me as he can sleep; he is stretched out, or sometimes even just at the bottom of the bed, not creeping between me and AdventureMan for every ounce of heat he can absorb.
Temperatures are warming, but still no significant rain.
The sunrise this morning is purely glorious, and I love the way it spills over into a little beach pool, as if it were a rainbow with a pot of gold at the end. Here, we have a pool of gold, well, golden in color, anyway.
There is no surf to speak of today, none, and there are patches of utterly flat, glassy water. Not a fishing boat in sight.
Have a great day, Kuwait!
Happy Birthday Sunrise
I have a friend who had a birthday yesterday. I kept the secret. Well, I told one other person, but she also kept the secret, doesn’t that count? This sunrise is dedicated to my good friend, may God richly bless you in the year to come, in every way that matters to you.
Our place is very cold this morning, I am all wrapped up. The Qatteri Cat only slept with me the second half of the night, so I should have figured out that it is warmer, but I was surprised to see just how warm it is. These weather readings are, as usual, from Weather Underground: Kuwait:
That’s a huge jump in temperatures, and I am glad I checked so I won’t be all overdressed when I leave the house. That’s the good news. The bad news is, we have some cold nights coming:
Well, bad news if you don’t like the cold. I am enjoying getting to wear some of my winter clothes!
Have a great day, Kuwait.
Merry Christmas, Kuwait!
It is seven in the morning, and AdventureMan is sleeping in a little, giving me a chance to catch up with YOU.
We have always waited until morning to open our gifts. Last night, after our guests left, we said “No children! We could open our presents tonight!” and then . . . we laughed. It was late and we were tired and we needed our sleep. (I never thought I would see the day, so old that I would want to go to bed more than to open presents.)
Christmas Eve was so special, spent with dear friends, reminiscing over times together, past Christmases. There is one great thing about being an older adult, and that is you are no longer involved in the frenzy of school and church and after-school youth activities. At nine at night, I am not busy trying to get my son’s acolyte robe ironed, ready for the midnight service, I am not frantically putting together the last few plates of cookies that I am required to provide for a million events I don’t really even want to attend. Christmas is much more peaceful, more measured, less frantic now, and I love being able to enjoy the holiday at a more measured pace. Isn’t life full of delicious ironies, that I can enjoy Christmas more in a Moslem country?
One Christian friend told me years ago that Satan tries to distract us during the holiest days. (I would have imagined that to be true for my Moslem friends, too, but I think I remember that Satan is jailed during the month of Ramadan, and cannot tempt you; that if temptation comes, it is coming from your own heart and shows you where you need to work on your character.) Yesterday, as I was working on the Christmas Eve dinner, my kitchen faucet broke – simply would not shut off. Anytime I wanted to use water, I had to go under the sink and turn two knobs, or water would just continue to run.
My friend called and asked if she could use my oven, which, fortunately, I had just turned on, but wasn’t planning to use immediately, so she came for about half an hour and we had an unexpected and delightful visit while I worked on vegetables and she baked her Christmas cake.
If that was Satan, well, he inconvenienced us, but he certainly didn’t get in the way of our enjoying Christmas. Ha Ha on you, Satan!
I intended to take a bunch of photos showing you our Christmas Eve dinner, but it’s like you get on this track, and then the track takes over, and I only have a few images to show you, and nothing really from the meal.
This is my oldest cookbook, I think I even had it before I was married. The glue has started to fail, pages are falling out, there are drops and stains throughout the book, but I don’t want to replace it because it has so many memories. This is my go-to book when I need an overview on how things work, and a basic, tried and true recipe.
Yesterday was a relatively easy day, pulling things out and putting them together. The harder days were before – creating the menu, figuring out what I needed from the store and getting it (AdventureMan helped) and “prepping”, i.e. getting all the walnuts chopped, the onions, the parsley, the cheese grated, etc. That’s the really hard work, I think.
One thing required a little extra preparation – I wanted to make peppermint candy ice cream, something I have made before. but a long time ago. It requires peppermint candy. Once I saw peppermint candy here, but it was a long time ago, in like February – I guess it hadn’t gotten here in time for Christmas. I brought back some from my recent trip to the US.
The ingredients for peppermint candy ice cream are wonderfully easy:
3 cups cream
2 cups crushed peppermint candy
You add one cup to the cream, put it in the refrigerator overnight. The next day, you stir it, and put it in the ice cream making machine to process. When it is nearly finished (it is thickened and the machine starts to labor) you put the remaining one cup of crushed peppermint candy in through the tube where you can make additions, allow it to process maybe 30 seconds, then – it is finished.
No, there was no added sugar, there is enough in the candy to make it sweet enough. Because it is pure cream and no additives, it is very very fattening and very very delicious.
How will we spend Christmas Day? When AdventureMan gets up, I will heat him up a cup of Christmas punch and we will open the presents in our stockings:
Here is what the rule is – laid down in my family many many uncountable years ago – as long as you believe in Santa Claus, Santa Claus will come. To this day, we believe in Santa Claus, so when we wake up on Christmas morning, we have stockings with little gifts. (I think maybe one of mine sparkles 😉 )
We also open gifts from family – and the gifts from our son and his wife arrived just in time, yesterday, and are under the tree!
Then, we will get ready for church, and go and greet all our church friends – Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
That is . . . unless the plumber comes to fix the faucet. Yes, for my friends who do not live in Kuwait, for the rest of the world, this is just any old day, and plumbers come on Christmas day. They do NOT come on Fridays, the Moslem world Sunday, so if the plumber comes – and we just never know when that might be – I would have to miss church.
We will gather again tonight with friends for Christmas dinner. Unless the plumber comes.
(No, Satan, I can roll with this. You are NOT going to ruin my Christmas!)
I wish you all a great day, a wonderful, sweet day.
PS. The Qatteri Cat celebrated by eating three Kuwaiti shrimp. For some reason, they are not so good for him, so he only gets them on special occasions. He would live on only shrimp if he had his way.
Qatteri Cat Says “Whaaaaaat?”
Those little eyes look SO innocent, don’t they?
Don’t believe it for a moment!
Every morning, I have to gather up ornaments that have been knocked off. I have to glue them back together (I don’t hang anything very valuable on the lower branches, but it is annoying to have to glue things back all the time.)
He had his eye on one ornament and I said his name. He looked at me. His eyes said “Whaaaaaaat” you know, that three syllable what that means “why do you think I would do something like that” when you are thinking of doing something like that.
You don’t fool me one bit, Qattari Cat.
Christmas Ornaments from Here, There and Everywhere
Ten years ago when we put almost our entire life into storage, we had no idea we would be gone this long. We had no idea we would live in four different countries, and that we wouldn’t see our things again for lo, these many years.
Our first contract, I was allowed one thousand pounds. Do you know how little one thousand pounds is? Think clothing, think basic necessities – 1000 lbs. just isn’t very much.
I packed just a very few Christmas ornaments, figuring I could pick things up along the way. Fortunately for us, the next country, after Saudi Arabia, was Germany, the land of Christmas ornaments. Our tree is eclectic. It’s not necessarily a tree with appeal to anyone else; it is a very personal Christmas tree, with lots of memories and stories. Lucky for you, I won’t bore you will all of them. 😉
We are sentimental. When we can, we decorate the tree together, and we remember with each ornament. . . When he was young, our son would get so impatient with us, and our remembering!
Here is the very first ornament our son ever made in school – it is a dreamcatcher; his teacher was very into the American Southwest and American Indian traditions:
We met and married in Heidelberg, so we always have that ornament with us:
My ties to the Pacific Northwest:
AdventureMan’s love of Africa and the Middle East:
Religious symbols:
Beautiful German antique silver walnuts and pinecones:
And memories of places we’ll remember . . .
Whew! I’m tired, too! Think I will go join the Qatteri Cat in a catnap!
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