Sophie's Story

   C and I were invited over to Tim and Karen's house for dinner. We had a wonderful time at the table talking with them and their four children.   After dinner we sat in the living room to chat. Karen is an avid reader like I am. One of her favourite novelists is Jane Austen. She asked me if I liked any of her books. I told her that I really didn't like them as I'm not into hand-wringing women. (Those are female characters that do nothing but wring their hands and wait for a man to help them.) I also said that they all seem to be about the same topic. Karen was a little taken aback, but she made an innocuous comment and then continued the conversation.   It wasn't until the next day that I realised I had committed a real faux pas. It's not polite to insult your hostess. It was especially rude as Karen does not know me that well. She could have easily taken serious offense to what I said. Fortunately for me, she didn't.   The first thing I did was write a

    I used to get these nice knitted washcloths from an elderly customer of mine. She used to bring in several and distribute them to anyone who was working that day. Over a few years I managed to acquire about five or six or them. I liked them a lot. They worked well, were easy to clean and were pretty.    Then she got really sick and was unable to knit. I felt bad for her. She loved to knit and she loved handing them out. I began to wonder if I could learn to knit them myself.    My mother had tried to teach me to knit. It was difficult partly because I'm left handed and she isn't  and also because she is not the most patient of people. It was a complete failure. I had also at some point in time attempted to learn to crochet with similar results. That was a long time ago. Maybe if I had a better teacher I could learn.    I asked at a local yarn shop where I buy my needlepoint supplies. They do have knitting classes, but they run for several weeks and are held at night. T

   Hi! This is Scamp. Colby and I want to tell you about the weird things that have been going on in our house.    Two weeks ago Sophie got out her cookbooks and starting looking at them. This is not unusual. She has done this before. She found a recipe and starting mixing stuff together. She did one really weird thing, she used a thermometer. She said that the water she put into her mixture had to be the right temperature. She used a mixer and made this white gooey, smelly stuff. She would not let us taste it.   Then she put her hands in this goo and mixed it. She kept adding more stuff that she called "flour" while she was mixing. It was very messy. It got all over her hands. I didn't understand it. Couldn't she just use a spoon?   Then she put some flour on the counter and did something that she called "kneading". I know what that is. Colby does it all the time. He likes to do it to stretch out his claws. Sophie doesn't have claws though. It mus

      It was bread baking day in the bakery. I knew this because the pharmacy is nearby and I could smell the bread baking in the ovens. I liked the fact that we were located near to the bakery. I like the smell of what is baking.    For several months, I had been toying around with attempting to bake bread. I'd never done it before. I've made cakes, pies, cookies and caramel rolls using frozen dough, but never bread from scratch. I grew up on homemade bread. Of course, we kids didn't like it. The crust was too tough and all the other kids ate store bought bread.   After years of eating mass produced bread, I began to realise it wasn't that good. C and I started buying bread from a bakery after Toastmaster meetings. It made me wonder. Could I do this?    I had asked a couple of people if baking bread was difficult. Most of them answered that it was. None of them explained why. Was it really that hard? I didn't remember that it was difficult, just time consumin

   Hi! This is Colby. I'm sure you have heard a little bit about me if you read this column. I am one of the two cats that own C and Sophie. I know that they think it is the other way around, but it is not true.    You have probably heard quite a bit about my big bother Scamp. He's an interesting guy. I'm glad he is my brother. He's a lot of fun to play with and is a quiet napper. He's also a good match for me when we tussle.    I was adopted from a rescue group about five years ago. My foster mom named me Mr. Bottomsley. That's because I was really shy. I liked to hide under furniture and all you could see was my back end. When I came to live with C and Sophie, they gave me a new name. They named me Colby.   Colby is a strange name. It means coal town or dark. I'm not dark. I have a cheerful,happy personality. I'm an orange cat so not even my fur is dark. I asked Sophie why they named me Colby. She said it was because my fur is orange like Colby ch

    Tomorrow, in case you missed it, is the Super Bowl. Naturally there are many articles covering and discussing the event. Several of the articles have focused on Baltimore linebacker (defensive player) Ray Lewis who will retire this year.   Many of the articles discuss the question of what sort of legacy Mr. Lewis will leave. To some he is a great athlete and a leader on his team. He gets his team fired up every Sunday and even when he was out with an injury could be seen stalking the sidelines offering encouragement and acting as a cheerleader of the guys in the field.    To others he is the guy charged with murder who eventually turned on his friends to save himself. A man who has refused to come clean and be honest about what happened during that bar fight 13 years ago. A man who is hiding behind a veil of faked piety.    A few weeks ago we heard about Lance Armstrong. Mr. Armstrong won the Tour de France, a cycling event, seven times. He was considered an champion and a ro