Minou | April 17, 2002 - February 9, 2015

Minou | 2002-2015

I put in my bid for one of Clark and Shannon’s Russian Blue kittens when TeeCee (Tornado Cat) was pregnant with the latest “batch” in early 2002. Clark insisted on a rigorous vetting process with a wide range of qualifications, including the requirement that his large cat family approve of a prospective adoptive parent.

I must have passed, because I was soon invited to view TeeCee’s litter, a pile of silver beauties supervised by their vigilant mother. I had once read that the pick of the litter is the mother’s favorite kitten, supposedly the one nursing closest to her face. I selected that kitten and put her in the palm of my hand. Her little claws stuck like Velcro when I held her against my shirt, next to my face. I was totally and forever in love.

Spring turned to summer, and shortly after the Fourth of July when the kittens in the litter were about  12 weeks old, Clark summoned me to come and pick up my cat. I brought the tiny creature home on a warm evening after stopping at son Chris’ workplace to show her off. My fear of Bob’s reaction was soon realized;  he stormed out of the house and didn't return for several hours, silent and fuming. Our tabby Fritz, dark-eyed with hostility, stationed himself outside the bedroom where I had sequestered the new kitten.

The next morning, Bob was still angry so I had to take a vacation day to stay home with the new baby, whose beautiful blue eyes were already beginning to turn the striking emerald green of the adult Russian Blue. The next morning, I went to work, full of anxiety, worried that the kitten would never find a place for herself in this hostile environment.

When I walked in the door at the end of the day, Bob excitedly demanded the video camera. The kitten was perched on his lap, looking adorable and content. From that moment on, Minou was Bob's adored baby and he was "her" preferred person.  I decided to name her “Minou”, a generic name – "Kitty” in French -- but uncommon here in Minnesota. I dutifully registered her with the Cat Fanciers Association under her full pretentious name, Princess Katya Minou.

As the years passed, Fritz tolerated Minou and especially appreciated her begging skills. When the shared dish of dry food was empty, Fritz would get Minou to persuade me to fill it. Fritz and Minou shared an interest in birds and other backyard wildlife, and they both loved to hate the outdoor cats that appeared regularly at the front door or under the bird feeder. They had hours of entertainment watching Alpha, the little betta fish that lived on the kitchen counter for a couple of years.

Minou was always a “self petter”, but she snuggled her way into Fritz and Bob’s “daily rub” routine. When Fritz wouldn't allow Minou on the bed where he enjoyed a vigorous rub every morning, she got Bob to give her “the rub” on the stairwell landing, while Fritz glared menacingly from above.

After Fritz died, Minou became much more affectionate and, in the last few years, she loved to sit between Bob’s legs or stretch out on Chris’ chest.  She ran like a little wildcat and jumped to great heights in one easy leap, up to the top of the buffet or the shower in the basement, her landing pad for "walking the pipes". She peered at us from the kitchen cabinets and refused to come down until she was good and ready.

We were heartbroken when it seemed last fall that Minou might have cancer, and were so happy when she rallied after treatment with antibiotics. Unfortunately, respite was short lived, and last week, we realized that her health was declining rapidly. Over the weekend, we were alarmed to see that she could barely eat or do anything but sleep.

Our wonderful Dr. Whitman and the compassionate staff at Animal Medical Medical Clinic helped Minou die peacefully, and we are relieved that she is finally at rest on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.  We loved her so much and were fortunate to enjoy her in our family for nearly thirteen years. The house feels so empty without her!

More about Animal Medical Clinic's care http://www.twincities.com/opinion/ci_27568680/best-pets-and-their-humans.

Don't say "yes" when you mean "no"

Last week Bob bought a new Garmin GPS. He will need it when his OnStar subscription expires, and this seemed like a good time to get used to the new model, with its large, easy-to-read display and lifetime map support.

In order to keep maps up-to-date, I thought I'd install Garmin Express software on my laptop computer. I was a little distracted when I was doing so, and somehow I made the mistake of installing bundled adware along with the Garmin software. I've always preached the need to say "no" to installation choices, unless you're absolutely sure you mean "yes". I could hardly believe I got caught myself, and was somewhat surprised my Norton antivirus software to kick in when I really needed it.

The adware kicked in immediately, slowing down my computer and offering me the opportunity to buy a wide variety of products and services, including anti-adware software and services (!), upgrade Windows drivers or talk to a tech for immediate help. The usable real estate on my desktop diminished to a few square inches. Too bad I didn't read this item before I installed Garmin Express.

I spent several hours over the weekend trying to uninstall the adware. Norton was very involved this time around, and I thought -- more than once -- that the adware was gone. I think I got most of it uninstalled, but I'm fairly sure both IE11 and Chrome browsers were hijacked with adware add-ons and I just didn't have the skill or the tools to fix the problem.

Finally, I did things the old fashioned way and restored Windows (8.1) to its pre-Garmin state. PC and Windows are running fine now, and I feel lucky that I got only a slap on the hand for my carelessness.

Breadmaking 101: F

The bread maker

My mother, Mary Ryan, never considered herself an expert in the kitchen but she was a good cook and very competent baker. She followed recipe instructions to the letter and knew the value of accurate measurements, especially for certain ingredients like baking powder, salt and vanilla.

I remember Maman's baked goods, produced with predictable results and few, if any, failures. Many years ago during a visit, she was horrified to see me throw out a baking sheet caked with some baking disaster that I was too lazy to clean up. She would have laughed at my recent bread making adventures.

I'd been thinking about getting a bread maker for several years, sure that the methodology would be foolproof and even enjoyable. I imagined myself throwing together a batch of bread before leaving for work in the morning and arriving home to the tantalizing aroma of fresh baked bread. Add soup and voilà, a delicious meal.

As I researched the subject over a period of at least 7-8 years, I decided that the best approach might be to borrow a bread maker from a friend. However, anyone I asked had long ago sold the machine at a garage sale or donated it to charity. Finally, Meggan K. came to the rescue with an almost new machine that she graciously borrowed to me.

I made my first bread last Wednesday, a one-pound loaf of plain white bread. The instructions were easy and soon my bread was being mixed and kneaded, allowed to rise several times, and baked in the machine. My husband and I sampled the bread as soon as we could, while it was still warm. We tried it cold too, and as toast. It tasked fine, but really "just OK". I ended up throwing out most of it, determined to try again.

This time I found a recipe online that went against the instructions that came with the bread maker -- "Forget everything you thought you knew about using your bread machine!". The recipe promised fabulous results, so I thought it would be good to come home from church to fresh baked bread. Early on in the process, something seemed to be amiss. The mixture didn't knead properly and a layer of flour covered the top of the "loaf". The yeast mixture bubbled up along the sides of the pan. Oh oh. This development did not bode well.

Home made bread!

I decided to let the cycle terminate naturally. The alert sounded after baking was complete, so I eagerly opened the bread maker.  The gooey mixture was caked with flour and the "bread" seemed like dumplings squashed together, with a bit of caulk added in for texture: another candidate for the garbage. Mercifully, Bob did not laugh, but thought that he himself would be able to do a better job if he tried. I can see this might very well be true.

This is not my first culinary catastrophe, and I must have matured a little over the years because I didn't have a temper tantrum or try to hide the evidence of my failure. It helps that retirement has given me more time, and I didn't need to feel that I had wasted precious weekend time on bread making.

I still have bread flour and yeast left.

I'm going to try making bread one more time, the traditional way.

Winter Wedding

Cousins Michele Hennessey and Bob Hennessey with Rich Fortman and Kerry Hennessey

There's nothing like a winter wedding to break the monotony of cold and ice. Yesterday we were at Hamline Church United Methodist for the marriage of Kerry Hennessey and Richard Fortman. Kerry is the beautiful daughter of Bob's first cousin, Tommy Hennessey and his wife Cindy.

I felt a little anxious before the wedding because of a "formal attire" notation on the invitation. I have not formal clothes and fretted off an on about what I'd wear, but in the end I was fine in my seldom worn velvet jacket and black fake silk pants. Bob was very dapper in his dress clothes, including the custom made shirt that was a birthday gift from Chris last spring.

The  ceremony was a mix of traditional and modern, with a few laughs that relaxed the wedding party and the guests. In his nervousness, the groom forgot one of the phrases in the "repeat after me" segment of the exchange of consent and he had to ask the officiating minister for help. Very endearing.

We were a little concerned about getting to the reception in downtown Saint Paul at A'bulae, right Saint Paul Winter Carnival Vulcan Victory Torchlight Parade. We did have to wait for a few minutes to get into the parking ramp but really didn't face any difficulty at all.
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The reception venue was beautiful and upscale. To my surprise, the bridal party arrived at the reception with everyone else. Timing was perfect, with just enough time for a pleasant mix of appetizers and cocktails. My red wine was so delicious that I know I need to know the name.

The bride and groom visited our table as they were making their rounds and I was happy to snap a good shot of cousins Michele Hennessey and Bob Hennessey, with the bride and groom. Our companions at Table 4 were pleasant and interesting. The evening was full of fun and joy.

Father of the bride Tom Hennessey (seoond from left) with ousins Mary, Michele, and Bob. I'm second from the right.