Cats: They're Just Like Us!

Shame, Thy Name Is Baji

Baji's "present" to me upon my visit to DC, shown in the condition in which I received it (minus 2 which TP ate right in front of me).

Explore France: the Flora & Fauna

The gnarly trees of Montélimar. The bathrooms were also gnarly.

Grandmother and granddog.

Like the Japanese homeless cat, the French SDF (sans domicile fixe) cat also grooms himself. This one's actually not exactly an SDF. He's not allowed in my grandparents' house, which isn't his house. He's also not allowed in the house that is his house. So he's peripherally very homeful, but not in an overhead kind of way. (And I'm the one who let him in the house. But not his house. My grandparents' house.)

Ouf, ze world ees so cruell.
(This cat actually does live in my grandparents' house.)

Magic!

Euh, ello, mai nem eez Monsieur Moustache. Juste louque aht zem!

Pleeze dou notte louque aht mai friende Mamzelle Ponay's butte. Ewe americaines ahrre soh rood!

Voilà.

"And where exactly do you think you were for the last five days?"

Explore France: the Gastronomy

Etorki, or Brebis, also known as Grebis to those who are small and who also think that Madrid is the capital of Greece.

Salade de lardons. Mmmmm.

Gratin dauphinois. Mmmmm.

My grandparents keep the chicken in the closet. Fortunately, they didn't feed us chicken while we were there. As far as we know, they're still alive.

The goose eggs, on the other hand, they keep in the fridge.

Birth of a french fry.

Death of a french fry.

Warning: Saucisson may be highly comestible.

There's nothing like a slab of pork marmelade. Really, there isn't.

After a four-day war of attrition, the United Charcuterie Republic succumbed to a brigade of hungry Frenchmen supported by an American coalition.