Standing in my kitchen listening to Armin van Buuren back when he still announced in Dutch, thinking I sort-of understood what he was saying reminded me of a story.
I was cooking and reminded of a story about a friend, Tim who went to Apeldoorn in the Netherlands. Staying with a friend there, he had a conversation with the friend’s mother. Speaking no English, and him no Dutch, he said they managed to get the point across. Not perfectly, but they did seem to understand each other when they had a bilingual conversation.
In the middle of Armin announcing that the next song would be Saltwater by Chicane, I started hearing it.
I knew it wouldn’t be a quiet half hour.
Instead of hearing one of the more beautiful Trance songs written in the last decade, I was going to have to cook to a Parrot Symphony with Dog Accompaniment.
Breakfast was going to be creative. I had some egg and raisin bagels I made and froze. Shaved onions onto the skillet, prosciutto was going to be fried.
Of Swiss Cheese would be melted on the bagel after it toasted in the butter on the skillet.
Head tilt, stare.
I was getting the full Monte.
I said hello to Oscar and said “Not for Dogs” to Rack. Luckily he understands that “Not For Dogs” means you’re not getting any.
Yes, I’ve created Pavlov’s dog as well as Pavlov’s parrot.
The parrot wasn’t going to back down any time soon.
The kitchen filled with the sweet and savory smell of frying onions, the meaty scent of prosciutto, and the butter that I used to cook it all, as I reached for my…
Can I walk away from the skillet long enough to get the cover? Put the bird cage on the floor?
A Parrot’s bond is not a friend bond. It is a Mate bond. If you consider that you want a parrot in your life, it really is a long term bond. 30 years is not uncommon and I’ve had my Oscar since 1986.
Armin said some more things in Dutch, and I picked up Art of Trance, Madagascar. Another truly beautiful Trance track.
The first phase of breakfast was made, the dog had trotted out to stare out the back door. Pavlov would be proud. He’s gotten used to having the tail end of my yogurt in the morning. So much so that when I finish…
with the bowl, he goes over to his food bowl to check if I put it there, even if he is watching me eat it. I open the back door…
and he trots over to the bowl expecting me to have already placed it there.
He’s just early. This is also where Oscar goes into high gear. I’m slicing strawberries.
It’s Strawberry Season here. I’m the guy who once bought a flat of strawberries in a flea market in Melbourne, Florida and drove up the coast snacking on them while having two conures walk all over my arms trying to steal a bit. One was my sister’s present, the other I had for a couple years after.
Yes, I do like Strawberries.
Like yogurt, and I make my own. Add a little whole cranberry sauce for some sugar and it makes up a rather nice bowl. Two grams per calorie, Strawberries are easy on the diet. I sliced up a large bowl…
poured a large serving of yogurt on top, and the rest of the can of cranberry…
on the bowl.
This was getting annoying. I stared down the dog, which goes badly when you have a very passive dog. He trotted back out of my little kitchen. I took the bowl of fruit and yogurt and did what I had to.
I ate it in the laundry room.
I did give Oscar a strawberry. He’s eating it now. I didn’t know that I could give them to the dog, but I’m on the fence with that. Yet another food obsession.
At least the season is short.