Galley Wench Tales

Exploring the world through the people we meet
and the food they eat.

Shiva, in front of some incriminating evidence.

Before I went for a walk, there were four saltines in cellophane-wrapped packages, leftovers from a meal out that I felt would be better served atop our homemade clam chowder. When I got back, there were three cellophane-wrapped saltine packages . . . one empty cellophane package on the carpet and a few telltale crumbs.

Better than mousey, I suppose.

We’re still looking for a place to call home, and Shiva still keeps us laughing in the meantime. She’s a cat-dog: she’ll snarf any foodstuff dropped on the floor before you can blink (though a dog would eat that saltine packet in one gulp, cellophane and all), enjoys a good game of fetch (though you may need to do the fetching), loves to follow us around, play guard-kitty, and snuggle up next to us. We’re lucky our kitty is happy to call home wherever we are with her.

For us, being untethered is wearing. We’re ready for a real address, not one that’s borrowed or temporary. We’re ready to become part of our community . . . wherever that is. It’s hard to be patient when we don’t know how much longer we’ll need to be, but considering that’s our worst problem—we’re doing well.

While we sort it out, there are some gorgeous spots to hike nearby—even in January. Just bring your crampons or microspikes. Mine are still buried in my camping gear; fortunately, my friend Kathi loaned me hers on our hike yesterday, while she relied on her hiking poles for stability. (I’ve got a pair of hiking poles stowed away, too).