Veggies trimmed, washed and wet, awaiting fate in the dark of the fridge, but for the green beans.

Speckroches done, cooling, to bag and tag.

Oysters not obtained, may be a push, which irritates me, but DAYUM I gotta lotta food.

One of the kitties decided that broccoli florets are THEE BAST for cat toying, dethroning wine corks. She, the mischievous one, is also a climber and surreptitious counter cat. I gather she is determined that it bee HER toxoplasmosis that occupies our brain stems rather than others. In service of this goal, she has taken to sitting demurely on the lid of our flip-top kitchen garbage can, attentively observing me as I chop and thaw and steam and roll and season. When I turn my back, she makes her move: into the sink! A daring pounce upon the chopped food (thankfully, I got her before litter box paws did any damage)! A snaking sneak to camouflaged hiding behind the toaster and the paper towels! I must needs keep the spraygun handy, I think.

I like having the tiny audience, but the participatory nonsense has the potential to wreck dinner. Dominance and training. A loving hand.