It’s a Sunday morning full of languor, or, as Wallace Stevens put it in his eponymous poem
Complacencies of the peignoir, and lateCoffee and oranges in a sunny chair,And the green freedom of a cockatooUpon a rug mingle to dissipateThe holy hush of ancient sacrifice.
Alas, there are neither oranges nor sunny chairs, as it’s again overcast here. But in Dobrzyn, Hili gets not only sunny chairs, but rodential comestibles:
Hili: Sunday.
A: So what?
Hili: The church bells are calling Sunday mouse-hunters.
In Polish:
Hili: Niedziela.
Ja: I co z tego?
Hili: Dzwony kościelne wzywają na niedzielne polowanie na myszy.
Here we are soaked in piety. All the mousing is closed until noon on Sunday.
That is a blue law the cats just will not allow. First we cannot buy beer and now this. Who still thinks religion leaves us alone.
“Rodential comestibles” is a great phrase.
Well, at least you had the coffee….
b&
PCC – just in case that teaching gig is getting a little old I thought you might like to see this craigslist ad for a Cat Circus Assisstant. Check it out! It’s even in your town! (But please keep the blog going – especially the evo posts…)
https://chicago.craigslist.org/chc/tlg/5188443833.html