Infarct amidst lemon curd

Good lord in the heavens, people, my heart is racing. You see, since I made that rose petal jelly the other day, I have been dying to also make lemon curd. They are sublime together, and so the two must be. After a wildly productive morning (but WHY am I still so queased out?!), I decided to get to it. I also put Nutmeg outside on his leash because he was calling mournfully at the back door. The creamy, zingy, ethereal concoction that is lemon curd came to fruition beautifully.

I took it outside to take a photo -the sun is out, yo!- said hi to Nutmeg and started snapping away. I heard something, looked back at Nutmeg and saw this:

Erm, where is my cat?! Y'all, Nutmeg had thrown himself over the deck and into the neighbor's yard. Mother of... As his leash is not that long, it broke off halfway down. I raced to the railing, looked over, and saw Nutmeg licking his damn tail. He looked askance at me and sauntered off as if nothing had happened, collar resting lazily on a lariope.

I threw my precious curd onto my kitchen counter, grabbed a bag of cat treats and ran next door. Knock, knock, ring, ring: no answer. Fortunately, my neighbor and I are friends so I went around to her side gate and could see the perpetrator's nose sniffing at it. I opened the door cautiously and pounced on him before he could scram.

My heart has only just slowed, and fortunately, I got my curd covered and into the fridge before a horrid skin could form. T likes skin on pudding- can you get over that shit? Horrors!! No skin on this gal's curd!