No news about Dad today.
From the bedroom window this morning I spied Natasha in her garden, reading, and decided to join her. She wore a red silk sari and sat cross-legged on a stone bench, by the little pond, amidst the lilies and bee-balm. I greeted her with my best adorable kitty persona. She did not disappoint. She set aside her book and gave me a good rub.
I curled up next to her on the bench. She read aloud to me from her book, an English translation of the Panchatantra. Whatever. The only Sanskrit literature I know is the Kama Sutra. It has pictures of people fucking.
A tiffin boy from the Red Trolley interrupted our moment. Natasha thanked the boy, then opened the tin and offered me some Ringan Nu Shaak made with local eggplant. I declined. Curry’s not to my taste, but I’ve heard that the Red Trolley Diner has the best curry in Washington County.
Likely the only curry.
Natasha dipped her finger into a dish of Basundi and offered me some. I licked her finger. Nice. Sweet. Honestly, I could settle down with a gal like Natasha. She’s talented and kind. Not that I’m, you know, attracted. I prefer females with fur.
While Natasha tucked into her food, I climbed the woodpile and inspected her studio. Hopper, her fat Persian, sat in the alcove staring out the window at nothing. Probably wondering what happened to his balls LOL.
I thought about this the other day. One day, they take a tomcat to the vet. When he wakes up, his junk is gone. Like something out of Kafka. One morning, as Gregor Samsa was waking up from anxious dreams, he discovered that his pecker was missing.
Well, I thought it was funny.
I moved on to Molly Bloom’s house and listened to her bang away on the Bosendorfer. Finger exercises and scales, mostly. Boring shit, but kind of nice to hear someone play the piano. It’s a sign that somebody cares about culture.
Roderick got home from the boathouse around five-thirty. True to form, Laddie went all berserk as soon as Roderick arrived. Mrs. Smith served roast pork, applesauce, and little green things. I hovered by the dinner table and got my share of roast pork bits.
Off to bed for me as soon as I finish writing this. I hope Dad’s OK, going to see him tomorrow.
All for now.
