Having heard of exotic, violet-flavored liqueurs that were once widely-available until they seemed to disappear, I found myself investigating, to see if they were really gone forever. It seems a few are now being created again, though not always easily acquired. At least not yet. While waiting for the right moment to drop some $ for a special postal order, I figured it couldn't hurt to experiment a little here at home. Due to my lenient groundskeeping technique (which means anything with a flower avoids being cut, no matter where it should be located), I've acquired a modest patch of violets in my north-facing back yard.
Though I did feel a twinge of regret at harvesting those beautiful, happy blooms, it really is just a fair payback for those years of allowing the plants to grow and multiply. Right?
So I gathered what I could, gave them a quick rinse in cool water, packed them in a little jar and covered them in vodka. French vodka, actually, though I doubt that really matters.
Stashed away in Tony's blue cupboard, the color quickly leached out of the flowers, leaving them pretty much white.
Some new face painting supplies have got me excited to play around with fresh ideas. A Chinese brush painting book is inspiring me.....
Stripey Nose II update: I'd managed to procure a 10-day dose of amoxicillin, which I'd been putting in his wet food twice a day. There was a little medicine leftover, so on day 11, I went out to dose him again, only he wasn't on his little cozy couch spot in the garage. Despite my calling and searching I never spotted him again.
Until this morning, exactly two weeks later. It was rather a shock to see him sitting at the bottom of the back steps this morning, as if all those days hadn't elapsed. Naturally, I immediately offered him a tin of food, which he immediately accepted. While his obviously broken back leg is still obviously broken, the other three limbs seemed much less injured and painful. He lounged around most of the day, was still here for dinner, after which he sauntered (as much as a three-legged cat can) down the path to nestle in the shrubs by the garage.
Sadly, when I went out at dusk to check on him, he wasn't there. Stripey Nose III (also known as Ring Tail) was lurking around, as was the big, strange, fighty ginger cat who's trying to horn in on our territory. More disturbing than that, though, were the rather substantial blood spots and puddles that were scattered along the path and near the garage entrance. Was it a fight? Or a freshly-opened wound? I don't know. I do know Stripey II is a toughy, and a survivor, but that doesn't make it any easier when worrying about him.