Life is interconnected and so are the topics on this blog. It might be cooking and gardening one day, yoga the next, knitting and sewing, or hiking and then bird watching followed by recycling or composting. They are the parts that bring humble joy to my life of voluntary simplicity in Montana.
Ginger and I are in love. That is the only way to put it, really. She's my little redheaded sister-cat and, well, we love each other to pieces. She and Matt get along famously, too, but she's pretty transparent in her favoritism of me. Maybe she has a bias for redheads as I do. Gosh, do I love that cat.
We had to come up with new protocol back in early December as a by-product of this all-consuming love. She become my little kitchen helper. Granted, she doesn't really help much, but she does keep me company so I figure the title is appropriate. I also considered My Kitchen Gargoyle, but that seemed too Gothic for my little, orange angel-pie.
As I think I've mentioned, Ginger is a tremendously playful cat. She insists on my stopping everything to play with her first thing in the morning and first thing when I get home from work in the evening--with lots of petting and chin scratching mixed in. She distracts me into further playtime throughout the day with her cute face and her oh-won't-you-come-love-on-me mannerisms. She pulls me in like a force of gravity. Its ridiculous, really.
But, sometimes I have a schedule of my own to keep which prevents my complying with Ginger's schedule. That was the case back in December when I was trying to get dinner ready in advance of Matt's getting home and Ginger was weaving in and out of my legs, rubbing her head on my feet, and making small meows in protest (protest that I hadn't just dropped everything to devote 100% of my attention to her, of course). And it wasn't just her. I wanted to cook and I wanted to play with my kitty. So, we came up with a compromise.
I put the step stool next to me, picked up Ginger from where she was milling around my ankles, and set her on the stool. She leaned against my leg immediately. Its almost like a real cuddle.
So, now she is my kitchen helper, perched at my side waiting patiently for a nice head pat between steps in the recipe. She makes herself comfy and watches me intently while I go about my business, carefully pivoting around on the small stool as required. Most of the time she even sticks around until I am all finished with my work. Its a very functional solution. I'm glad she thought so, too.