DIY Cat Structure

Unsafe at any speed.

Before and After

I could not be happier. It's a beautiful day -- the first day of Memorial Day weekend. I thought we'd start on a high note and go to an estate sale. Turns out it was on the same block as Malibu red's house. Who knew?

It was a trip. Obviously the home of an original hippie. And completely filthy, like a chicken coop. There was old rusted weird stuff everywhere, dust, cobwebs...grains and coffee beans were strewn around the bedrooms and it somehow did not smell like old dead people.

I felt sorry for the young hipsters running the sale, so I was desperate to find something to buy. I almost bought a Congressional Yearbook from 1970 whose cover decried how humans had finally become masters of the Earth just in time to kill it. Inside were reports about all of the regulatory agencies put in place to safeguard the planet. Remember those? Don't get me started. 

So I put it down and looked for something else. In the side yard I found this perfume bottle. Tried to pay for it but he gave it to me:

It's very pretty and the perfume, I discovered, smells delicious. On further examination I learned that the stopper and bottom are signed. It's Baccarat crystal. I am hoping for a small windfall when I sell it.

Nice start to the weekend.

Cat Rescue Dogma

Oh cat rescuers.

After the sudden loss of Paws, we're still very tender. Eyes is stressed out and lonely, even though she has her brother for company. While we were on family vacation this past week, I started looking at cat rescue.

The local cat do-gooder calls herself "holistic". She has a beautiful little kitten that reminds me of Paws. I sent her a query and she sent me an application form that asked, among other things, my net income, how often I travel and where my cats sleep.

I sent her some info about us instead. She said ..."these cats must be allowed freedom to be in nature.." Instead of finding a home with loving owners this weekend, she'll chase bugs and get older and less adoptable. Sorry kitty.

I am weary of people's dogma. Dogma about the Hawaiian band, how a person should be on vacation and how domestic cats should live in the wilds of suburbia. Are personal rules more important than the overall goals of what you're doing?

Think about it, people.

 

Japan 2010, Day 10

Osaka!

We took our JR passes and booked it over to Osaka. We wanted to see some amazing stuff that we saw on No Reservations.

At the train station I was very excited to see and then taste Fanta "Moo Moo White". Akebono did a promotion for them this past year, and I hadn't seen it in the States or Taiwan. Now that I've had some, I don't ever need to taste it again. It tastes somewhat like carbonated Yakult, and I like to keep my fizz and my probiotics separate.

 

Train stations provide much visual stimulus. We weren't even to our destination yet and I kept finding fabulousness. Like this guy, the mascot of the city of Nara. He looks like a fabulous deity -- some incarnation of the Buddha. Nope. He's Sento-kun, a newish cobbled together mascot who is ticking a lot of people off.

More train riding:

 

One of my favorite things in Osaka was the Open Air Museum of Japanese Farm Houses. Twelve antique farm houses from different regions of Japan were relocated here, beginning in the 1960s. Each house is set in its own small landscape. Because each is made of wood and most have thatched roofs, a pail of water stands ready within.

Where possible, the houses are outfitted with period furniture. It was a misty, rainy day, and for that reason it is easier to imagine the period in which these buildings were in active use.

 

The thatched roof below was producing roof iris. I had never heard of such a thing. This is the view from a vintage tea house, and these bamboo benches were pretty fabulous.

From here we went to Osaka proper. Osaka is full of downright goodness. Check out the signage and wires.

 

This is Sammy's Ebisu. I'm so sad it closed.

This is across the street. It's Karl! Eating my favorite flavor of Karl, light salt.

 

Osaka is famous for its tako yaki (for you scandinavians, imagine octopus aebelskiver. everyone else imagine octopus donut holes with savory sauce). Who could resist the lure of a flaming baby with taro horns offering you a piping hot sixer of tako yaki?

Again, the lure of the flaming baby. Mrguy and I shared six and then went off in search of more.

 

As I mentioned, Osaka is chock full of visual stimulus.

 

 We knew we needed more sustenance before venturing out of the neighborhood, so we had twelve more tako yaki at this place on the street. The photos below are to the street and to the back of the restaurant. The tako yaki were yummy.

 

  

One of our goals in Osaka was to find the original cat cafe. On the way to find it, I saw this sign and figured it was a cat cafe. Mrguy wasn't sure (what if it was something unsavory?) but if it was I wanted to see it anyway! We went up in the teensy two-person elevator and found the hippie cat cafe.

Here we are. Inside, for ten bucks you get a beverage and a room full of cats.

This is the traditional greeting. Multiple cats scamper over each other to be the first one to smell the feet of newcomers. I hadn't changed my socks from the day before so they got an extra treat. You find a spot to sit in, and then your beverages come and the cats start to ignore you.

 

 There are cats in bowls.

 

This cat is in charge of the sink.

 

This is the view from our seat. My original greeter is in the center of this photo. A kitten sits near the front door. See the light blue hamper under the bookshelf? There is a cat asleep in that also.

 

What you can't get from these photos is the ambiance. A couple sat on a small sofa with a cat visiting with them on a table. The cat, a Maine Coon, was so vast that he lapped over the table. Another couple sat behind an Indian screen. They ignored the cats and read magazines the entire hour we were there.

On the sound system was the Nonesuch Explorer Series recording of the Ramayana Monkey Chant, followed by what, on vinyl, is side two: twenty minutes of gamelan. I have that record! Funny.

Mrguy wanted to take me to America Mura, so we went. I expected to find it touristy and awful, and it had some great stuff including a store called Drum & Bass. This place is crammed full of Reggae 45s from Jamaica, recorded in the 70s. Mrguy was just about cross-eyed with the abundance. I was disappointed that he didn't buy any vinyl, but he did buy an awesome compilation CD that he loves.

 

Seems impossible, but we did more stuff. We had heard about a brewery run by women called Minoh. A bar called Beer Belly sells Minoh, so we went there for some beer and another bite to eat. We ate in a hallway that was essentially a passageway between two rooms. For those who care, the Minoh Double IPA tasted a little like a Luden's cough drop. The weisen is very nice.

Vegan Wonders

There are a few restaurants around here that prove that vegan food can be enticing. Cafe Affirmation is one of them. The flavors are delicious, and their affirmations are usually innocuous. It was Miss Wartz' birthday this week, so we went to Cafe Affirmation.

This time, things hit a sour note. Our hippie was slow, and dessert was inedible. We kept eating it, though, because it was such a marvel that something made out of chocolate could taste that awful.


Fascinating!

Later in the week a colleague and I went out to lunch at the Zen restaurant. I love this place. The super-tall cashier and host rarely moves his face but seems sweet beneath all the granite. It's quiet and respectful. Their sauces are made out of simple ingredients but are so tasty. I think that brown rice is nasty -- except when they make it.

The miso, bean and burdock sauce on the braised kale below, has haunted me all weekend.


Do I need to break out the burdock this weekend?

Hmmm.

The Weekend

You need to savor weekends like these. Friday we went to a party at work. And the opening of a friend's installation, then a little Hawaiian nosh with Shee Jimmy at our home-away-from-home.

Saturday I tried desperately to find a supplemental outfit for an anniversary party that was themed. Didn't find that. DID find a shirt with a sumo print (kimarite).

On the way to the party we saw a demolition derby car that was sponsored by a porta-potty company:


The party was in celebration of a couple who, at 40 years of marriage, are showing us how it's done. It was incredibly lovely. There were people we knew and people we didn't. Alternative lifestylers and retired bankers. All duded up in their western gear eating organic food and taking in acoustic music. With a view of the rolling golden hills and a ranch across the street.

We left early for a little rehearsing (sigh)...and today is the Aloha Festival.

It's showtime!

Hawaii 2008 Day 4

Saturday was filled with funny blessings. We went in search of the farmer's market and instead hung out with the Aloha State Sporting Dog Association:

Then off to find the real location of the farmer's market, but first a peek at the Waikiki Bandshell (another Hawaii Five-O location). By the time we found the farmer's market, it was pretty much wrapped up, but the nice folks at Da Spot served us up some delicious Egyptian chicken curry that was only $7, including dessert. 

We found a lava rock to sit on and took in the sights around us. The view from Kapiolani Community College is wonderful. They also have a kickin' cactus garden there in the middle of paradise.

Then off to Kaimuki, whose Goodwill has never disappointed. I came out with a green and purple silk dress. Then off to Harry's Music, where the legendary steel player Jerry Byrd used to give lessons. We bought Kanoe Miller's hula dvd there.

Then to Baileys, home of aloha shirts. I bought one that doesn't flatter me simply because the fabric is so great. And the eagle eye of mrguy spotted a pile of Hawaii Five-O scripts. I didn't buy any, but did buy a buckslip letter pressed with "'Be there -- Aloha Len Weissman.'"" Len was the show's publicist.

The new dress was working its magic later at Yard House (home of 100 beers on tap). As we left, the host literally shouted after me, and over the deafening classic rock how much he liked the dress.

By now we've been joined by ms and mr scandiwaiian. It's so fun to have our home peeps here!

After Yard House we took in a little Kanoe Miller from the hallway at the Halekulani, learned that our shorts needed to reach the ground, people, if we were going to enter Lewers Lounge, and went back to Matsugen for more soba. Yum. One wall of the restaurant is lined in Heath tile.

Honolulu closes shop early, so we walked around a bit and went to where ms' family's house was once (smack dab downtown). Then we ventured to Top of Hawaii, the state's only rotating restaurant. It was closing time, but we walked around the restaurant and admired the spectacular view. Then back to the Moana Surfrider for a Mai Tai and a walk up the beach to our home away from home.

Note to Self

The cap of the defunct Canadian baseball team does not provoke Aloha in others. Yesterday three different people aimed their cars inappropriately at us, one car full of people gunned the engine and spun out in front of us in the dust while we were on foot, dogs barked at me and I got my first scowl. I think it was the 'Spos hat. This never happens when I'm wearing the sprout.

We went to Haliewa yesterday to get the world's best hippie food and plunk ourselves down on our favorite beach. That part of it was delightful, as well as hearing Ron Artis and his family play, and shopping at a fancy lady boutique and actually buying something (absolutely unheard of Mrs Guy behavior).

Here's the Taro Bomb from Paradise Found Cafe:

Wayward Cafe

Back to Seattle for a moment here. A few years ago, Mr and Mrs Seattlefriend took us to the vegan titty-loaf restaurant, so called because they served their "neat loaf" in a room decorated with sophomoric murals of bare breasted mermaids.

Man that place was good, and on the day we were there it was in particularly fine form. The owner was wearing some sort of hippie pull-on pants and the requisite rainbow beanie, and had sculpted his white beard into a single row of perfect little curls, all curling in one direction, like the ocean as represented in a Medieval manuscript. So he brings us our order, which I believe was two titty loaf and two sloppy glutens, and then asks us if we mind if he vacuums. And with his giant industrial vacuum, he vacuums around us while we eat. The dishwasher wasn't closed properly, and was only partially hidden behind a makeshift modesty curtain, so it was squirting periodically through the curtain and onto the floor. Happy vacuuming hippies in beanies, merpersons smiling down upon us, dishwashers spurting, gluten Joe, all led to the kind of experience I was dying to have again.

So we'd heard that the restaurant had changed hands, but we went last week to check it out anyway. Alas, as we drove up we saw the gnarly-tatted people of the cafe. As non-inked persons of a certain age, we weren't sure how welcome we were going to feel. But we went in, ate their seitan (pronounced Satan) and read literature about cruelty to animals. "What do vegans believe about abortion?" asked one informational flyer. The music was really loud, and the horrible murals have been replaced by even more horrible paintings with skulls. Mr Guy found a pig rescue flyer, which made him very happy.

Next time I'm looking for fake meat, I'll pass on the nihilist loaf and keep looking for rainbows.