Live & Kern

Jan. 15 movie night: 1984′s “Ghostbusters”

Jan. 8 movie night: 1960′s “The Magnificent Seven”

Chicken. Bacon. Chili powder. I’m pretty sure this was the most awesome thing I did this week:

Sweet and spicy chicken

4 boneless chicken breasts
Bacon
Chili powder
Garlic powder
Salt and pepper
Brown sugar

Cut the chicken into strips — about three strips per piece. Season with spices, and wrap each piece in a slice of bacon. (Toothpicks may be needed to keep everything together.) Roll the bacon-wrapped chicken strip in brown sugar. Grill, or coat the bottom of a baking dish with olive oil or cooking spray and bake at 400 degrees for 35 to 40 minutes.

Next time I’ll definitely make it spicier, but it was delicious with a baked potato and sweet corn.

The move was successful, but Bearcat is confused. I think she spent half of Friday trapped in a closet, and I’m not yet sure how she got in there. (She’s not saying or blaming yet.) When I returned to the new home from an exciting day of cleaning at the old home, I couldn’t find Bear. Boxes make for excellent hiding places, so that wasn’t too unusual at first. But after about 10 minutes … When I finally called her, there was a mew from the bathroom closet. Which I was into before I left for the day’s adventures, but I swear Bear wasn’t around then.

This is not the first time I’ve lost the cat: The last time was in a South Dakota hotel.

In 2004, I was moving to Indiana from Washington (the state — not just a scenic adventure from D.C.), and stopped overnight somewhere in South Dakota. I checked in at the hotel, turned a drugged Bear lose (she does not like car rides), fed her and left to get something to eat. When I returned, Bear was nowhere to be found.

There weren’t that many places to hide in the room. She wasn’t under the bed or desk. She wasn’t behind the night stand or TV.

I even checked the rest of the hotel in case she’d somehow escaped. (There was a gap under the door — big enough for a Sunday New York Times to fit through, but, I was pretty sure, not quite big enough for a cat to slip out.) I asked the front desk if they’d seen/heard about a cat on the prowl; they hadn’t. (It was a good thing they already knew I had a cat with me.) I searched laundry areas, poked through the plants near the pool, checked around and behind vending machines.

Bear was gone.

I went back to my room to ponder how one loses a cat in a hotel when, in the mirror, I saw a paw frantically waving from inside a recliner. The fabric along the back was loose to allow the chair to recline — and loose enough for Bear to sneak inside.

Sometimes I get a bit nomadic and need to move. That is not the case this time: My landlord wanted to raise my rent. My employer only wants to decrease my income. This is when math gets hard.

Lucky for me, I found a fantastic new place (There’s a purple wall!), and the moving has begun. (I have my own hashtag on Twitter: #adventuresinpacking. Next will be #adventuresinunpacking.) Movers will be here early Tuesday morning to take care of the big stuff — the piano.

My brother used to be my moving help. (I’ve helped him move a few times, too.) Our best move was after I graduated from college — there was not an inch of wasted space in the bed of the truck. When unloading the truck the next day, we found out just how well it was packed: A single Kleenex had traveled 200 miles neatly tucked between two boxes.