Monster Strawberry

Today at the market I saw the cutest cats. They were napping in a little wooden box right in the middle of the pedestrian street. At first I thought they were being given away, and then I saw little leashes around their necks. When people stopped to pet and coo over the cats, their owners took the opportunity to shake whatever they were selling, soap or something, under their noses.

At first I thought those poor cats were being exploited, and then I realized that they were getting more attention then Oliver gets in a week. Then I thought about selling Oliver to them. Hah hah.

The market was the usual, and I'm going to start referring to it as the Stress Market because I can't help but get a little claustrophic and panicky when I go in there. So many people and sounds and a language I don't understand.

I try to stay as zen as possible by bringing along my ipod and only unplugging it from my head when I need to communicate. But while the music blocks out the sounds, it doesn't stop people from bumping into me and running over my feet with their little carts and tripping over dog leashes. Between the market and shopping in Paris yesterday I realized that I might not be cut out for long-term city life.

When I came home and unpacked everything I found the most terrifying strawberry I have ever seen. I don't know if it was a product of genetic mutation or chemicals or what, but it looked like four conjoined strawberry twins. Dave walked into the kitchen, said "wow!", and promptly volunteered to eat it.

I wish I had a picture of him eating it, but he wouldn't let me fetch the camera.