cat tails

I.
our cats are having a fight. it happens at least once a year and the scenario is always the same: the black cat (known for her adventurous spirit and generally grumpy disposition) comes home smelling funny. the tortoise cat (known for her extreme stupidity, lovely disposition and utter unwillingness to venture outside) does not recognize the smell and assumes this is some foreign cat trying to invade the kingdom. Big fight (with blood-chilling screaming chases through the house in the dead of night) as the tortoise attempts to remove the intruder.

a few days go by. the black cat's smell returns to normal. the tortoise, delighted to see (or rather sniff) her long-lost friend, makes overtures. to no avail. 'yeah right!' seems to say the black, 'like i'm likely to trust YOU again...'.

why does this remind me of people's fights?

II.
Isabelle wanted to know why the cats were having a fight. i explained.

- ... but Likkepot (tortoise) can see it's Minou (black), can't she?
- yes, but Minou smells different. with people, the eyes are more important than the nose, so if a man comes in who smells like Papa but doesn't look like Papa, you will think it's not Papa, and if a man comes in who looks like Papa but smells different, you will think it is Papa, right?
- yes...
- well, with cats, it's the other way around, the nose is more important than the eyes, so if it doesn't smell like someone you know, it's not someone you know...
- ... oh, so she doesn't know it's Minou?
- no.

... and that got me thinking, about this 'knowing' business. why do i so easily assume that the cats are wrong and i am right? why would my reality be more real than theirs? when i was pregnant with Isabelle, i thought Marc smelled funny. i didn't want to lie down next to him, and generally avoided being within smelling distance (not easy if you share a bed, a 40 square metres house and an unborn child). i assumed it was still Marc though. but what if it wasn't, not really. what if changes in smell indicated changes in other things, things that influence how someone behaves or responds, and who they are?

(and what if it was time to quit these philosophical feline musings and get my sorry ass into bed????)

letter

lieve juf van ballet,

ik heb een heel mooi potje versierd
waar wij blauwe druifjes in gaan planten
en als de blauwe druifjes uitgebloeid zijn
kun je het potje gebruiken om je spullen in te bewaren

liefs, Isabelle

PS niet vergeten om het iedere dag water te geven anders gaan ze allemaal dood

(dear miss from ballet,
i decorated a very pretty little pot
in which we are going to plant blue flowers
and when the blue flowers finish flowering
you can use the little pot to keep stuff in

kisses, Isabelle

PS don't forget to water it every day or they will all die)

aaaaah!

this week, the postman brought this. so good. so very very good.

so i was sitting on the bed this afternoon, embroidering flowers on Isabelle's princess coat (yes, that would be the one that might actually be finished not much longer than a year after i started on it), with Antoine playing with my left foot, and Isabelle reading to herself. and then... 'mama, can i embroider too?'

the tooth and the fairy

you can't see it, hidden as it is by a most delicious little tongue, and guarded on both sides by 'mess-with-me-if-you-dare' cheeks, but it's there. sharp as a sable. white as the dawn. the end of the toothless grin. step 1 in the breaking of my mamma heart.

on a lighter note, i got married this week. to a fairy.
with princess feet.
the wedding was attended by many, most of them wearing fake fur. beautiful wooden cakes were served. the master of ceremony was drooling and leering from behind the bars of his cage.
the bride was delightful. the music classic.