Tag Archives: hunger

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The pinch

I am Elwha.

Mother has relented, a little. I could feel the pinch of hunger in my belly. She seemed to be ignoring the offerings in my bowl. My sister has helped. She is able to climb up and get the gloves with the delicious animal smell. I do not know what the animal is, but it makes me more hungry than ever. She brought me a glove from high on the shelf and added it to the bowl after we had our sparse morning feeding! I was starting to feel as if my belly was pressed against my ribs! My sister is still rounded. She is smaller and doesn’t have my needs.

Yesterday I talked to mother all day and she finally relented and gave us extra food! We were out in the bird watching box for a good half hour. My sister talks about zippers but she is not able to manipulate them to let us out. We would very much like to eat one of those birds! Or four. Or more. Some, the gold ones, are very small. It is cold out and the sky wets on us, so I am more hungry than ever!

My sister would run out of the bird watching box in a moment. I would catch a bird, but then go back in. Those cars and trucks going by terrify me! Especially the recycling one and the buses. They want to devour me, I know it. Mother does not seem to fear them.

I feel better with the extra food. I hope that mother continues to give it to us. At least until we catch those birds.

_______________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: pinch.

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I must demur

“I am Elwha, cat.”

I love my brother, but I must demur with him. He worries so.

It is true that we nearly starved as kittens. Our first mother disappeared and we cried and cried. We were picked up and brought to a strange cage place, with many many animals. It smells of fear and grief. Some of the cats are older and displaced. They have lost their families and are very sad.

Still, there was food! My brother is worse off than me, and often shoulders me aside when the food comes. I slap him with my claws if he is difficult and I get enough to eat. They give us more food than we can finish.

People handle us and pet us daily. At first I don’t like it but then I do. Elwha has a louder purr than me but I don’t care. The people must earn it.

Two women come one day and handle me and Elwha. They leave. Two days later we go to a very strange place and sleep. I wake groggy and kick my brother. The women are back and we are put in a smaller cage. This worries me but I am so groggy that I cannot fight. We are shaken for a while and then she lets us out.

In what turns out to be home and she is Mother now.

I am helping Elwha with his installations in the bowl. It is silly. We are not going to be starved. In fact, Elwha was getting portly and now he is a finer figure of a tom. Mother feeds us in separate rooms. I don’t put offerings in MY bowl, but I am willing to help him. We both enjoy the tissue paper, especially when it is red. It’s a bit of a waste to get it wet, but it makes him happy. I enjoyed shredding the last piece on the stairs, like a scene of death and destruction. I would dearly love to do the same to the birds, but Mother takes us out with harness only. I still like to go out.

I am Sol Duc.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: demur.

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DIY FUD: more

I am Elwha, cat.

Day three of offerings. My Mother did not even take a picture of day two. I do not understand why she scorns my offerings. This is a precious mouse that I extracted from the Tower.

This was a difficult operation. I stood on the sheep that warms and carefully tried to remove the tangled mouse. Mother interfered a little, but at last I could jump down with it. And I have offered it in exchange for more food! This precious toy!

Many thanks to all who made suggestions the other day. I still do not understand how a sub would help, but I will watch for one. Perhaps if I continue to make offerings and observe, I will be able to communicate with Mother. She seems loving, even though she is also obtuse. I am still hungry and lose weight. I fear starvation. My sister laughs when I approach her, but she is smaller and does not have the same needs. Mother feeds us in separate rooms. It is frustrating.

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only when I’m hungry (2)

sometimes I still miss you
but only when I’m hungry

sometimes I wish I had gone slower

sometimes I wish I had waited
I wish I hadn’t rushed

sometimes I wish I had just tasted you
waited
saved you
no biting

but you tasted so delicious
I couldn’t wait
I tore into you
I didn’t want to wait
or share you
you were all mine

sometimes I still miss you
but only when I’m hungry

there is always someone else
even if they aren’t
as delicious
as you

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only when I’m hungry (1)

sometimes
I still miss you
then I have to check
if I am hungry

I’m doing well, you see
I only miss you when I’m hungry

I’m moving on
but sometimes I still get hungry

hunger is tied up with fear
in childhood
and grief and abandonment

When you fed me
that was huge

You don’t feed me any more

Sometimes I still miss you
but only when I’m hungry

I think you’ve joined the dead
the angry dead
who didn’t feed me
and didn’t love me

or loved me during anger
and wouldn’t feed me

Sometimes I still miss you
but only when I’m hungry

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Photo taken by my friend JB.

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hunger

It is hard to write about hunger

I am always hungry
I am always afraid
I always long for love

How can I always be hungry?
The hunger is partly for food
and partly for love

They are tied together
“You have food insecurity,”
A friend says

I want to argue and do
but I also know that he is right
I am always worried about food

My daughter has it too
she admits that even as she finishes a meal
she wants to know that there is food for the next meal

A friend tell me about running out of food
hiking in Alaska. He is ok with it.
My daughter and I agree we will never camp with him.

My mother says that pregnant
she is hungry the entire time
fantasizes about a banana split and chocolate syrup

After the baby is born
“I did not want the banana split!”
she says and laughs

Maybe it is the baby who is hungry
inside the womb, the fetus that is hungry
“The doctor yells if I gain any weight.” laughs my mother.

Hunger and love intertwined.
I don’t see my mother for nine months after birth
because she is ill.

I curl around my daughter ferociously
I want to protect her from any harm
I eat when I am hungry and feed her food and love

____________________

The photograph is me and my mother. She is getting over tuberculosis and is still very thin. I think that my grandparents took the photograph. I took the photograph of the photograph.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: hunger.

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Apple crisp by Malene

Malene’s apple crisp

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Slice apples and place in baking pan.

Mix:
1/2 C. flour
1 C brown sugar
1 C oatmeal
1 stick butter
dash cinnamon

Mix the flour and etc and put the mix on the apples in the pan.
Cook in 350 degree F oven until brown. 30 minutes in my oven.

You can peel the apples or not.
You can add some apple juice.

sliced apples
topping for apple crisp
ready for topping
ready to bake
yummmmmmy
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Katy B.’s fruit torte

Katherine White Burling was my maternal grandmother, and this recipe is attributed to her. I still have the small three ring binder that my mother gave me when I was in high school, explaining that my sister and I had to do some of the cooking. We told her what we wanted to make and she would write the recipe in our book and help us. I wrote this recipe out in the 1970s.

preheat the oven to 350 F

cream: 1 C sugar
1/2 C butter

while the butter is softening enough to cream, cut up fruit: apples, pears, peaches, rhubarb, or use berries…

Add to the creamed butter:
1 C flour
1 tsp baking powder
salt
2 eggs

Spread in in a buttered, floured pan. Cover with chopped fruit: apples, pears, peaches. This one was local plums and blueberries.

Sprinkle with sugar and lemon juice
Dot with butter on top.
Bake for 30-40 minutes, depending on your oven.
Cook until browned a little in the part that rises around the fruit, and when a toothpick comes out clean.

I am submitting this to today’s Ragtag Daily Prompt: Kaleidoscope, because the torte reminds me of a kaleidoscope.