The Day That Graycute Died


Graycute died today.  He was our barn cat. He arrived in a bucket on a Wednesday with three other kittens.  Wednesday is when the kids didn’t go to school.  I’m sure this was planned by our neighbour farmer with stray kittens in the barn looking for homes.  We grabbed a few and carried on.  He lost three lives with us.  First time, we ran over him with the truck.  He was a kitten and we didn’t have kittens-seeking-shade protocol.  He recovered without intervention.  His bones were still soft.  Second, I gave him raw meat that was too big.  His throat was blocked … I scooped it out in time.  Third, I ran over him in the Skoda … silly cat was a car enthusiast.   But, he lived on for many years.  He had his own theme song.  He had a number one hit single “Liver.”

Liver!  Oh! Liver!

So tasty and tender!

I eat it for breakfast and


Liver!  Sweet Liver!

Yum Yum Yum it’s Liver!

You eat it for breakfast and



He was a permanent fixture here on the farm.  In the winter, he would warm Brent’s lap in the evening and then cuddle up to Lucy while she slept.

On the way to the vet, he died in Lucy’s arms.  I’m not sure what his cause of death was, but it was too soon.  He was a young cat with many years to carry out his business on the farm.

Though he was just a cat, his quick and sudden death reminds you that you need to enjoy every moment shared.   With anyone.  You never know when they may not be with you even though you think they will always be there.

I am a Graycute




Brats Like Me


I have fond memories of going to the Oktoberfest somewhere in Southern California with my family.  My dad really loved the Bratwurst … and the beer to go with it.  I loved it just as much.  I haven’t seen Bratwurst for YEARS.  Today, buy two get one free, right there at the ol’ Carrefour market.  Mine for the buying.

I looked up a few recipes on how to cook it.  It’s all about getting the internal temperature safe and then browning the outside.  Many ways to do this, mainly involve some sort of par-boil followed by a brown.  In France, we cook raw sausage all the time.  We do this method.  BUT, as I was talking with Brent about it, it dawned on me that we house this very special machine a dear friend of ours bought to do exactly that.  A sous vide wand that gets your middle up to temp and ready for browning.  The brats are up-temping now and I can’t wait to brown my “saucisse irrésistible.” …. everything ( except ten words ) sound better in French.

We have some new web-footed friends joining team Grasspunk.  They are runner ducks.  I don’t know much about them, but I can tell you this, they like to cuddle.  I’m sure we’ll soon know why they are called “runner” ducks.


Last week was a four day weekend and Minty hosted a Movie night.  “Movie Night” is code for junk food and television to avoid any school-end test studies.  The kids have a toolbox and they aren’t afraid to use it.  Works every time.


(above children are not studying )

Minty takes photos of these two characters every day.  The gray one is a stuffed animal with the amazing talent of breath and a beating heart.  The beige one is a killer.

Just a reminder, it’s tick season.  If you have a nap in the grass with a shaggy dog, be sure to give yourself a quick once over.  I hate ticks.  Useless buggers.

Have a great weekend! Hug a duck! I’m going to go brown my irresistible sausage.

Old Boy


Not Brent.  Bug, the cat.  Bug has been with us for awhile.  We brought him over with us to France. Recently, he’s been showing signs of his age ( almost 16 ).  He loves the heat, but he’s looking a bit fragile. … and fenile ( that’s a senile feline ).

He carries on.  Perhaps he’s asserting his right to be an old curmudgeon by meowing that siamese meow befor breakfast, lunch and dinner.


It’s hard to tell if he’s slowing down.  He’s always been a snug.  Even as a kitten.


Okay, so not much has changed with Bug.  He’s a bit slower, meows louder for no reason and refuses to move out of your way.  Let’s leave it at older and wiser.  Long live Bug!



Cheesepoof, a.k.a “Graycute,” is doing his rounds. After hunting all the mice on the farm, he likes to rest in the library in the game cubby on the games directly. He spends more time resting than hunting me thinks. Though, it’s getting colder now and the mice are coming in. He actually caught a mouse in the house, so we’ll give him a treat.

Lucy has a voice for Graycute. He has lots of lines and thought that she shares at a volume audible to all. The pups know that Graycute is not allowed in the house. When Lucy, in Cheesepoof voice, says, ” CHEESEPOOF!!” the dogs come running to chase the cat out of the house. “Cheesepoof” to the dogs means “chase the cat out.”

… Graycute is resting on Nuclear War. “War” covered by his big, fat belly.

The Annual Throwing Of The Siamese In The Snow

[ can you tell it’s a snow day? ]


He knows it’s coming.  He knows his fate the minute his little, blue Siamese eyes squint at the bright white out the window.



We throw him out to remind him that there are parts of the world, namely outside in early March, that are cold. We throw him out to see snow on his whiskers.



Then he walks straight back in flapping his leg to rid his precious petal paws of that cold white stuff.



What doesn’t freeze him, makes him stronger.   It’s time to breath some fresh air, Bug.  Okay, now back to your station under Fremont the wood burner.