Ma Chatte et Moi

When my cat wants out, I put her out. Claw the glass, I let her in. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Why do I put up with this? Two reasons. First, she sometimes brings me breakfast: mice, rats, moles, birds, bugs. She is honestly trying to contribute to the welfare of the pride. And it nicely rounds out my poached eggs.

Second, the creeeching sound gets to me. You know it costs a lot to put a cat through Le Cordon Bleu Patisserie Acadamie. She toyed with the idea of being a butcher... Anyway, now she agrees to let me use her in my art. In this painting, she is a French pastry chef. I would like to be a French pastry chef. I would like to eat some French pastries right now. Notice the delectable marzipan mice. Oui? C'est magnifique, n'est pas?

I sketched a lot of other not so tasty looking mice before I came up with these beauties. Moin! (That is French for kissing your fingers with the yummy gesture). Oddly enough, Susi just read outloud from her MacBook, "...a man died from falling into a vat of chocolate...".