Picture Sunday

Hello, end of weekenders. Welcome to a glorious round of "No More Oktoberfest" Picture Sunday.

Spent Friday having a good old-fashioned chill (coffee and movies), then went to B'burg last night and hung with Mr M. And spent today playing clarinet trios with our new friend Daniel, from Germany. (This is the same Daniel who visited with the Sauerkraut Band up on the mountain, and he sure is a nice fellow and game for about anything, because anyone who can hang with the Sauerkraut Band and Mr M and me playing clarinets is a pretty brave sort.)

However, I've had other pressing matters this weekend. This is, of course, The Mouse Problem. I've now abandoned the idea of rat poison. This is after Mr M went into vivid detail as to what happens in mouse's tummy after mouse ingests poison, and was I not the cruelest person on earth to even entertain the thought of doing that to mouse. I had no idea this would even happen, I thought poison was more humane than being crushed beyond oblivion in a trap, but now I'm thinking a trap may be the way to go. (And Liane's comment on the last blog bears this out, I believe.) That is, if the plug-in high-pitched "keep out of my house, mouse" electronic thing Mr M gave me to try doesn't work.

Anyway, I had a word with Peabody about all this, and he got his crack team of lawyers on the case. They worked up a little dossier on my mouse.



Seems the little fellow's name is Walter. He hails from the second tree along by the creek in my backyard, and learned about my house from his cousin Edwin, who spent last winter at Mr M's house in B'burg.

Walter is single, completed Junior Mouse College (Social Studies), and voted Democratic in the last election. He enjoys saltine crackers, jazz, hiking, and hanging in the pots and pans. He's a fan of Kurt Vonnegut and Sam Peckinpah.

He's also gotten wind of the fact that I'm ix-naying the oison-pay. Well, one can only assume by the set-up in the kitchen.



Doesn't look good, does it?

Well, I hate to do it, but I'm putting out an APB for Walter. I don't want him dead, or alive for that matter, I just want him out.



Oh, well. Maybe the electronic high-pitched thingie will keep him at bay.

And now, it's time for another recipe du jour. And boy, am I glad to introduce this week's recipe. Because someone else (besides our first guest cook Mr M) has come forward and jumped right into the recipe fray.

Our very own LilyG and her friend Karen were doing some amazing baking last week (really, folks, I saw the pictures - I can attest to it), and came up with this little goodie. Election Day is this week, you know. And what better way to celebrate the democratic process than to chow down on this item from the "Political Snacks" file in cardland, the W-Cake.



Oh, my. Now this is something. No instructions on the making of this little goodie, but I'm supposing all it takes is a cupcake recipe and a lot of talent and imagination. When you sit him on a plate does he lean to the right? Is the brain area of the cupcake actually mushy oatmeal? Who knows. All I know is that I hate George Bush, but this is one cute cupcake, and I certainly thank LilyG and Karen for sharing him with us all.

Happy week.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* My left leg is not happy. I'm not sure if it's sore or numb. And I know that sounds weird, but it's true.