Hollywood beckons

When I moved to LA in 2009, to be with The Love of My Life, I left my fat cat, Jack, at home. It didn't seem worth the hassle of moving him for what was intended to be a 6-12 month spell. So my friend the Activist kindly took him in and provided a good home and plenty of love, in my absence.

I remember saying at the time 'If I was going for a couple of years I might feel differently'. Little did I know I'd be there for 2 years and 3 months.

More to the point, little did I know how much Jack would have got out of life in LA, the throbbing heart of the film industry. It turns out my Jack has star quality.

A friend of a friend is shooting a short film which calls for a black cat. I submitted Jack's headshot, and somewhat grudgingly a full body shot too. I was hoping, you see, to gloss over his girth.

Star quality

Anyway it turns out the director didn't mind that Jack is a fatty, as he has such a good face. Also I think he hoped it might mean Jack wasn't skittish. I mean, he does move pretty slowly most of the time.

Shooting took place yesterday. Jack was a little shy at first, forcing the location to be changed to 'under the bed'. But after a while he got into the role, and they got some great sequences of him looking especially, magnificently, black catlike.

A brooding presence

I will keep you apprised of the film's progress, and of course, Jack's trajectory to stardom. If he needs us to relocate to back LA, we will make it happen, in the name of his career.

Medals all round

My husband, TLOML, did pretty well in a swim meet yesterday. As in, he won actual medals. So I made him a well-deserved, all American dinner.

He's a Southern boy, and used to swim for University of North Carolina, so I made fried chicken. It was good, of course, as all fried salty food is.

And for pudding I created a special medallist apple pie, with apples I picked earlier from the tree in our garden. We're resigned to staying in Fox Corner for a while yet, so we need to start making the most of its natural charms.

I think I should win some sort of 'all-American wife' medal for my efforts, personally.

Linked sausages... is it a British thing?

You'd think by now we'd be over the transatlantic quirks and discovered all the anomalies there are across the pond.

But no. Here's a new one:

'What the...?' says TLOML. 'These sausages are all joined together!'
'Oh,' I say, 'Don't they come that way in the States?'

Nope. It turns out, and I never noticed this before, American sausages come all separated neatly, no need to cut the links. It is, as we say at Fox Corner, 'A British thing'.

What to expect

TLOML and I are expecting! Expecting a future President or Prime Minister or Olympian or maybe all 3 rolled into one, that is. He or she will arrive in February. Look out world.

So all of us at Fox Corner are getting mentally prepared to welcome a new life, and raise a happy child.

We all prepare in different ways. I google 'oysters, safe in pregnancy?' constantly till I find the right answer.

TLOML regresses.

And Jack reads up.

I'd like to make it clear that none of the characters featured in this post needed to be asked or enticed to pose. This is just what they were doing.

When American sandwich fillings and English sandwich bread collide

TLOML made himself a chicken sandwich the other day. He found the left over chicken breast from the previous night's roast, and some parma ham that needed eating.

Then he sought out the bread. Warburtons seeded batch, to be precise. It was then that it became clear: this English bread was just too small for this American man's chicken and ham sandwich.

As you can see, my resourceful husband rolled with the punches: he just used two slices of bread for the bottom of the sandwich, and two for the top.

Five minutes under the grill, and some careful cutting later, and he had what I would describe as 'two chicken sandwiches'. TLOML pointed out that if the bread was of a decent size, it would just be the one sandwich. He is probably right. Must look for bigger bread in future.