A round of applause for the Flemish, if you please

For their marvelous addition to the Wonderful World of All Things Alcoholic. I'll bet you think I'm talking about beer, but nope. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Pudding Shot.



Seriously. It's pudding in a little shot glass with some whipped cream on top. It's alcoholic* and ever so delicious. It came with my meal of asperges op z'n vlaams** (white asparagus in the "Flemish style" (cooked with butter and served with egg and greens)) and potage d'oignon (onion soup, and yes, that one's written in French, not Flemish -- I can't remember the Flemish for onion soup) in a cafe in Brugge, Belgium. Okay, okay, they don't call it a "Pudding Shot" when they give it to you. Actually, they don't call it anything -- they just put it on the table with your meal and act surprised later when you ask what it is. They call it advocaat or, in English, egg liquor.

*Not in the "well there's alcohol in the recipe but then it all gets cooked off" sense, either.

** Isn't "op z'n vlaams" a great phrase?! I love Flemish (and Dutch, which is pretty much the same thing). My sister and I have a theory that Flemish is the funniest language EVER*** and while others have expressed doubts, they have yet to disprove our hypothesis.

*** In writing,**** and if your native language is English. It doesn't sound especially hilarious. Actually, it sounds a lot like American English, only with all the words wrong. Sort of the way Greek sounds like Mexican Spanish with all the words wrong. No, really. Go over there and listen if you don't believe me.

**** For instance, "soap" is "zeep." Zeep! And a Pepsi Max (which is Diet Pepsi in Europe) promised me "Maximum Smaak!" instead of "Maximum Taste." Don't you want to invent new slang and start using the occasional Flemish word for emphasis? Like Chinese on Firefly, only funnier. "No, no, I don't need a whole sprig of parsley there, just a fijngesnipperde."

In which I explain why I have posted so infrequently of late

Mr. Elinoire and I are leaving for our belated honeymoon in just a few days. We're visiting friends in NYC, France, Switzerland, and then having a few days on our own in Belgium and Paris. I haven't taken a trip this complicated in several years and the logistics have been intense and complicated. (Not horribly so, but quite distracting.) So... not much posting, and for that I apologize.

Today I began packing by placing my suitcase on the table and putting things from my "take me" list into them. Naturally, any open container must be investigated.



Here, Sylvie joins the investigative team while Mirabelle checks to see if I've accidentally stowed any finches or lizards behind the suitcases. Hey, you never know, and wouldn't she feel silly if she'd missed the opportunity?



I'm going to be really embarrassed if I say I have nothing to declare and then it turns out that I'm transporting a cat across an international border. Note to self: make sure both cats are occupied elsewhere ("look girls, a skunk!") when I zipper it shut.

The neighbors

This is our local skunk Claymore. We think he lives under the deck of the pottery studio next door, and he is an remarkably well behaved guy.* We are usually alerted to his presence by rustling in the leaves by the side of the house (where he comes out from under the building) or because Mirabelle is extremely intent on something going on outside. "Intent Mirabelle" + "fuzzed tail" = Sheba, the little feral cat the pottery people take care of, has had the nerve to walk somethwere that Mirabelle can see. (It also equals "Sylvie is going to be whomped in a minute because Mirabelle can't get to Sheba and man, is she in a whomping mood.)

"Intent Mirabelle" + "No fuzz" = Claymore is making his rounds. (And Sylvie can continue to nap peacefully.)




I put some catfood on the lawn the other day and apparently that was enough to get Claymore out before dark to snuffle it out of the grass. He was very intent.



He is also a she. A while later, I heard more rustling and looked outside to see two new baby skunks looking for any treats their mother might have missed. I didn't get good photos of them, but you will have to take my word for it when I tell you a baby skunk (kitten size but much waddlier and with an enormous bushy tail) is a seriously adorable creature. Especially when it is wrassling with its sibling and climbing up on things and then jumping off of them.

We don't get a ton of wildlife in this very urban part of the city, so I am pleased when I see a native species making good. Go skunk power!

* I classify "good skunk behavior" as "not making oneself known through ones scent" and this is almost always the case.