the allure of the catnip banana

Ah, Mothy.  Not tempted by the birds on the tree, she's happily gnawing on a catnip banana.  And the plum pudding dancing cats are progressing in their festive way across the top of the fireplace.  That instrument of torture isn't a thumbscrew, but is a rather fine press that I bought out of a garage here in Santa Fe - oh, I think twenty years ago, and I'm dismayed how little I've used it ...