I stayed up way too late last night and was totally exhausted when my head finally hit the pillow. Sleep didn’t elude me, it came quickly…..but not soundly. Our uninvited visitor was in the walls….scritching and scratching away. Craig was raised on a farm….maybe that’s why he’s able to ignore the hideous sound this creature makes…..but to me, it’s like fingernails scraping against a blackboard.
Once awake, the sound intensified…..drowning out all normal sensibilities. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t think….all I could do was focus on the loathsome sound coming from the inside the walls. The scratching got louder and louder. What nature of beast was this…..Mondo Mouse? Rabid Rodent? Vengeful Vermin?
I was starting to panic…..had this creature finally broken through the thin barrier that divides us? The scratching, so very near now, was incessant. It seemed nothing could distract this beast from it’s task. But then…..just as quickly as it had started….it stopped. And Felix sauntered out of the bathroom…..content that he had fully, throughly and completely covered his …. ahem …. “business.”
Despite my lack of sleep, I continued on my quest to empty the larder…..successfully finding a recipe that would use a good portion of our pastis (an anise-flavored liqueur), olive oil, all the basil remaining in our garden and a package of chicken from the freezer.
Chicken with Pastis from “French Women Don’t Get Fat” and an Apricot Clafouti (using a lone can of fruit from the cupboard and Apricot Brandy from the Wachau Valley) made for a delicious feast.
So delicious, that I just may have to add pastis to the larder back at home.
“Romance is not a science but an art, no less so than the art of eating well. And it takes cultivation and refinement if a relationship is to offer its fullest rewards.” ~ Mireille Guiliano, author of “French Women Don’t Get Fat”