Black cat or Great White Shark?

Remember that scene from "Jaws", where they find out the hard way that the diver's cage isn't as shark-proof as they thought?
Last night I had a Jaws-déjà-vu of the feline kind -- Lola's preferred game of the moment is hiding in a box and catching things I roll/throw/move towards her hiding place. Today I'm going to take her a new box, something more or less solid, but last night we had to make do with a rather weak specimen (the kind you can unfold and flatten out), and very soon a black paw found its way through the bottom. Then I had the serendipitous inspiration of dangling her favourite mouse-on-a-rod against the small hole she'd made, and WHAM!, half the cat came pouncing through the bottom. She didn't quite understand why it made me laugh so hard, probably because she's never seen Jaws.

Boss gave me Friday off, so introductions will start on Friday morning. I'm all wibbly and excited. And yes, I admit I'm dreaming of two-beige-and-one-black sharing the couch with me. Might have to get a bigger couch...

And I'll send Alexandra a German version of The Letter, slightly toned-down, but only very slightly.

In other news, it's raining today, and the forecast for the weekend doesn't look too good. Never mind, there shall be cats and Pilates and gym. No running, though, if the ground is wet, but since I always see the positive side of things, gym won't be so bad, because my arms and upper body have been sadly neglected these last three weeks.

Not much work to be done today, but I MUST NOT LOOK AT RECIPES. MUST. NOT.