It’s Sunday, though of course nobody in this house is going to church! I’m not used to relaxing on the weekends, or rising past 5 a.m., so I’m greatly enjoying a week in the country with amiable company, good weather, and luscious noms.
Speaking of noms, here’s Gosia, the lodger at my hosts’ house, bringing me a nice present: a jar of homemade wild mushroom soup made by her aunt. This is a traditional Polish dish, and was absolutely delicious as a first course last night.
Dinner: chicken, Swedish potatoes, cauliflower, and wine. (Malgorzata and Andrzej lived in Sweden for many years, and still cook Swedish food). Emma the d*g looks on.
A plate of Polish sunflower-seed and sesame-seed cookies is just the ticket for an afternoon treat, especially when washed down with a glass of pure cherry juice:
Yesterday Hili got a special treat, too: a saucer of milk. She works up quite an appetite during her days roaming the cherry orchard. And her white nose stripe looks as if she’d dipped her face in the milk.
Sarah, a family friend, took a picture of Hili when she was a kitten (about a year ago) and had it put onto a mug. Even as a baby she showed her penchant for climbing.
Talk to the paw!
Last night, while ensconced in my room, Hili suddenly leapt off the bed and ran to the door. I thought she wanted out, but she had spotted a cricket clinging to the doorframe about two meters off the floor. Without any hesitation she leapt up and batted it onto the floor with her paw. She didn’t attack it, but simply followed it as it hopped about the room.
I then picked her up and held her while I captured the cricket and put it outside. When I let her go, she ran right back to the spot where the cricket had been and looked puzzled. Not finding it there, she then ran back to the door and looked up exactly where the cricket had been originally. Conclusion: cats have a short-term spatial memory that lasts at least several minutes.
That two-meter leap was something to see.
Hili longing to write a post for Racjonalista. “Hili,” by the way, means “she’s mine” in Hebrew.
The weather has been perfect as long as I’ve been here: blue skies and temperatures in the lower 20s (C). Andrzej and I went for a walk to the Vistula this morning:
This is the house where I’m staying. Above the door is its name on a board: “Smultronstället”. Does anybody recognize that, and what it denotes?
And the yard (note the apple tree), beyond which is the very large orchard that runs down to the bluffs overlooking the Vistula: