Christmas With Family

City of Brotherly Love

Newcomer Blimey was trying his best to get used to the American way of living, but the progress was going slowly.  He pondered over many of the things he saw that his Catball brothers seemed to enjoy from the bottom of their catball hearts, things that just didn't make much sense to his small orange British self.  When they all piled around the television to watch helmeted titans molest each other on Sunday, he felt left out.  "This is not football--they do not use their feet, and that is not a ball," he thought out loud, "this should be called handegg."

"This is horrible," thought Blimey.  "They would never allow this at a Hull City game."

While the other brothers tried to explain the strategy of the game and make sense of what a Gronk is, the big guy and his cute wife felt concerned about their newest responsibility's integration into American society.  "It is our responsibility to help Blimey feel comfortable and happy in his new home," the big guy said.  "I suggest we take part in a great American institution with him!"

His cute wife asked, "But we are already watching football, and later there will be chicken pie for dinner.  What could be more American than that?"

"A road trip!"

The humans plotted and planned and schemed for the week, and gradually introduced Blimey to the adventure satchel.  Finally, early one Saturday morning, they woke up super-early and hopped in the big red wagon.

Finally, after many many hours, they arrived.  Blimey's eyes sparkled.  "Wow, a big new bed!  U-S-A!  U-S-A!"  He bounced and rolled and stretched out as catballs are wont to do.

The humans unloaded their goods, and smiled as they looked at the spectacle.  When they were done, the cute wife grabbed the adventure satchel and held it open, saying, "Believe it or not, Blimey, there is even more to see!  Let's go!"

They hopped in the car again and drove into a big city.  Blimey's little pink catball  nose was pressed against the window glass and his green eyes soaked in the new and interesting and American place.  They got out of the car and hit the streets and came upon a beautiful brick palacey place.

"This is where the rules for America were written," the cute wife explained.  It looked rather petite for such an important place, Blimey thought, and he found this rather charming. 

"This is the Liberty Bell," said the big guy.  Blimey was puzzled about why the bell had legs.  "It must certainly enjoy its liberty," he thought.

"This is Betsy Ross' house," they continued.  "She was the person who came up with the idea for the American flag."  Blimey concluded that anyone who liked stripes like he did was alright by him.

After roaming around the history for a long while, the humans started feeling peckish, and the weather alternated between drizzlations and full-on rain ("Reminds me of home," Blimey thought fondly).  They ducked into a warm-looking, bright, delicious-smelling place.  There was a giant long table in the middle of the room with a forever number of chairs around it, which delighted the humans to no end.  They sat down at it and had coffees and breads with delicious jams and something called speculoos (which they are obsessed with finding again) while other humans sat at the table and chatted.  Blimey hopped out of the adventure satchel and felt right at home amongst the harvesty things.  Other humans saw him and smiled, and one kind woman even picked him up and gave him a squeeze!

Le Pain Quotidien is Catball-approved.

After a pleasing luncheon, the humans continued their meander through the quaint old part of the city, when they happened upon a treat parlor.  The mustachioed man behind the counter supported the choice of roasted corn ice cream, calling it "the taste of Minnesota in autumn."  Blimey thought that Garrison Keillor would heartily approve of the endorsement. 

The Franklin Fountain is Catball-approved!

Practically next door to the treat factory was ANOTHER treat factory that shared the first treat factory's sense of historical whimsy. 

The Shane Confectionery is Catball-approved!

After enjoying treats one place then buying more treats for later the other place, the intrepid trio continued to discover the old part of the city.  They came upon a remarkable, adorable strip of homes, Elfreth's Alley, that were cute enough to be consumed.  "I would not mind being an alley cat in this alley," Blimey said.

"Competition!"

As they made their way out of the old part of the city, they happened upon a whimsical thing.

The cute wife said it was time to go to another part of the city, Germantown, to go to an arts-and-craftsy thing she wanted to attend.  Germantown seemed like a strange place to learn about America to Blimey, but he did not question her.  Sadly, the threat of rain cancelled the art, so they found shelter. 

Iron Hill Brewery is Catball-approved!

After their frosty beverages, the guy and the wife said it was time to go get fancy!  They went back to their hotel room and put on upgraded duds, then drove back into the city center.  "You will like this place," the humans explained to Blimey, "there is plenty of fish for all to enjoy here."

Morimoto is Catball-approved!

The splendiferous meal came and went with plates upon plates of exotic and delectable things, the majority of which were definitely Iron Chef-worthy.  They went home and slept with happy bellies full of every delicious thing the city had to offer, it seemed.

Well, not everything.  Not yet, anyway.  As they piled into the big red wagon to drive back home...

Tony Luke's is Catball-approved!

As they made the long drive back home, Blimey digested information as he digested his roasted pork sandwich with sauteed broccoli rabe and sharp provolone.  "America.  America is quaint.  It is red-bricked.  It is honest and colorful.  It has fun and whimsy.  It has crafty people.  It has delicious things and pleasant places to be."

He looked out the window as the scenery whizzed by. 

"Not so bad, really." 

America, this is Blimey. Blimey, America.

According to the mail-handling bureaucracy, I am a small packet.  I have never been a small packet before! 

I come from a faraway place with princesses and great harwoods.  No good or acceptable harwoods for us, thank you.

I am securely wrapped and thoroughly protected against impact.  Please be certain to give your cat an air hole if you should choose to send him or her some place as a small packet. 

After being so tightly bound, it was nice to find out my new people were willing to take on the somewhat unpleasant task of reshaping me into something more catball-like and less small-packetish.

That's a good bit more like it!

One mighty fine catball, if I may say so myself.  Still with my tags on, too!  How luxurious!

A Handsome Chappaquiddick Chap

After their mega-tour of Martha's Vineyard, Catball thought it impossible that they could have missed any part of the island.  From Edgartown to Aquinnah and all points in between, Catball and his people had taken in just about all of Martha's Vineyard there was to see, from farms to beaches to gingerbread houses to lighthouses and so much more.  Catball was right--there was not much of anything else to see or explore on that island.  What he did not know, however, was that there was another whole island to explore.

They had seen signs for the Chappy Ferry while they were futzing about Edgartown--Catball figured it was a boat for debonair people, and was delighted to learn that they did not have to have monocles or own race horses and rare brandies to be allowed on.  They buzzed their way along the shoreline road through Vineyard Haven and Oak Bluffs to Edgartown and got in line for the ferry.  There were several cars in line waiting to embark, but because their scoots didn't take up too much room, the ferryman zipped them up to the front of the pack and squeezed them on.  "The other side is right there," Catball said.  "If you were so inclined, you could probably throw me across if you wanted to.  Please do not want to."

The big guy squeezed Catball in his palms in reassurance.

"This is an adorable little boat," thought Catball.  "They should call it an adoraboat."  The ferry was indeed very small, just three cars, their scoots, and a handful of people fit onto it all at once.  As they motored across the small hop-and-a-skip to the other side, an identical adoraboat passed by them, similarly loaded with just a few cars on it.  Catball thought of the poor suckers at the end of the line for the ferry in their cars that they skipped by.  "I hope they like quaintness, because they will have a lot of time to consider the quaintness of this establishment."  The captain of the ferry stood in his little boat hut and Catball smiled at the starch-straight flag at the top if it.  Days like this probably weren't so bad to operate the device, Catball thought, but it was probably much less fun in the winter. 

The mood of the new little island was very different from the mood of the bigger but still little island they left behind.  It was practically deserted, it seemed, with lots of foresty space and not many houses at all.  As they rode down a dirt road, Catball saw a wonderment he never expected to see out this way of all places. 

"It's one of those things!  A thing I like!  A torii!"

Catball and his people disembarked; they had stumbled upon the Mytoi Japanese Garden.  The garden was very pleasant with many winding paths and waters and abundant plant life, and Catball's heart flooded with happiness as he remembered the Osakan adventure that his people took him on before.  Regrettably, it was the buggiest place they had ever been--Catball took refuge in the Adventure Satchel while the people got eaten alive and by persistent horrible winged creatures the likes of which they had never experienced.  "These people do not do zen tranquility very well," Catball said afterwards.  "They do, however, do swarms of angry biting things extremely well, so perhaps they're going for that.  If so, first place."

Ravaged by savages, the three travelers continued down the dirt road until they could go no more--they were confronted by a bridge, and a beach, and then several hundred miles of oceanic pleasantness.  The waters were calm and very warm, and the sands were hot but quite fine underfoot.  While the people dipped into the ocean waves to soothe their monster bites, Catball took a moment to bask. 

Even here, though, the winged creatures managed to attack the humans--while they lacked in number they were abundant with tenacity, and much sooner than any of them wanted to, they were forced away by the horrible bitey things. 

"There is one other spot, one last hope for us yet on this little angry rock," said the big guy, and while his wife and his catball friend were harried, they pressed on to the next destination. 

They picked their way carefully along another dirt road, their scoots rattling and battling along the rocks and the sand of the barely civilized region.  Finally, at the end of the road, peace awaited them.  A narrow beach, Wasque, with a big sand dune island just offshore, and a little beyond that, the very tippy tip of Katama Beach on the bigger island stretched out beyond.  And there were no bugs to feast upon their hides, which was the nicest feature of all.  They had been all over the rock and finally, finally found the piece with peace.  They deployed their towels, dug their toes in the sands, and were able to relax. 

As the sun began to dip in the sky, it came time to take the adoraboat back to the big island, and then back to Vineyard Haven to return their noble steeds and head for home.  There was, of course, one last order of business to address before they could call their time complete.

The Grand Tour Continues

 After investigating the shiny-doohicked tower and meeting all the Edgars in their cute town, the intrepid trio decided to head to the southern part of the island.  They hopped on their scoots and, after a brief ride, happened upon Katama Beach.  The sand felt different on Catball's belly from other beaches they'd been to, the grains larger, each one with a rocky, pebble-like quality.  And it was hot, too!  The sun beating down on the micro-rocks had heated them up so much that Catball thought his bellyfuzz would scorch. 

The water was very different at this beach, too, very chilly and relentlessly wavy, and it clearly did not want humans in it because they got tossed back up on shore as soon as they tried to go in, and loved separating people from their floaty boards, their stability, and their shorts.  Catball thrilled to see a seal's head sticking out of the waves close to shore. 

 The beach was separated from the road by a great swath of long beachy grass that rippled like the ocean waves whenever a strong breeze blew through.  "What a lovely piece of untouched niceness," Catball approved. 

While they were on the beach, Catball and his people noticed the presence of old quadra-winged flying machines soaring low overhead, and as they hopped onto their scooters and headed back northward, they found a big field where the beasts lived to roar and feed.  Catball was tempted to go flying in one but forgot his aviator goggles and skull cap and so had to decline. 

 The group decided to keep touring and, in the interest of completion, they made their way to the southwestern corner of the island.  They rode and rode and rode their buzzing fun machines past farmlands and pastures and all sorts of delicious looking things.  The topography changed from flat to rolling and swelling hills as they made their way, and off in the far distance, another one of those treasure towers shone.  Catball urged them on, and finally they arrived. 

The treasure tower looked over tall cliffs that sloped down to the endless sea.  As Catball and his people approached, the tower keeper emerged, welcoming them to his domain--Catball knew immediately that this sentry was too kind to attempt to pilfer from.  Nearby was a little pavilion of shops and restaurants that were owned and operated by the native people of the island, who, quite frankly, could have been a lot more upset about the presence of interlopers than they seemed to be.  Catball learned later on that there was a beach nearby where people frolicked without frocks, which made him blush with scandalousness.

The sun was starting to get low in the sky, and so the trio decided to head back to their headquarters, but along the way, they encountered a little village that certainly seemed to have a good attitude about life.

This idea struck Catball as excessively cute.

Catball wasn't sure what it meant that "Unsure" seemed to be the most popular choice.

"This business person must like giving people the business," Catball thought.

"This place is doing it right."

"I wonder if he has to stay up there because he lost a duel."

"Look," said Catball, "J loves R!  Good for R!  Yay R."

 "This is a rustic."