I don't know if I've explained this, but during the day, we let Chita come and go as she pleases through a hole in the screen door of the kitchen. It sounds pretty ghetto, and it kind of is-- the lower edge of the screen of the door had come undone because the door smacks into your hip at that level, and decades of people holding the screen door open with their hip while unlocking the inner door had detached it just a bit before we moved in. Wear and tear increased the size of the hole. A couple years ago, our mailman decided that he could save himself all the huge effort of opening the screen door-- if we were home (so the main door was open), he'd just cram our mail through that hole. I don't know if he was making some kind of commentary, or what, but his attentions forced the hole open ever bigger. By the time Chita was interested enough in the outside, she had to do very little shoving to get the hole open wide enough to accomodate her easily.
I've considered getting it repaired, but it's handy that she can let herself out. I've considered fixing it so that there's a neat open hole, but it seems silly to devote effort to it when we're about to take the screen out and put the glass in for the winter instead.
She makes a bit of noise coming through this hole, since it's about 18 inches off the floor-- she has to jump up, balance for a second, then go through it, and coming in from outside she makes even more noise because she has to jump up from the step there. It rattles, sort of. It rattles almost the same way as it does when someone opens up the door to walk through it, apparently.
Just now I was out hanging laundry on the line in the backyard, and Z is preparing dinner in the kitchen. I came in the kitchen door, and he greeted me, in falsetto, "Hello!"
A bit surprised at his tone of voice, I said, "Uh, hi."
He started, and turned around. "I thought you were the kitty!"
"Aw," I said. "Well, you could pet me instead."
He looked at me. I batted my eyelashes. Then I realized he was dredging raw meat in flour preparatory to browning it in a soup kettle. He looked at me again. "Naw," he said. "Go and get the kitty, she'd enjoy this more."
* * *
In other news I am completely enamored of the concept of embroidering. I have not been mastering the different stitches too well-- mostly I'm just doing odd hybrids of several of the most common ones. The thing is... they're just not that different.
We'll see once I've finished this sampler-thing whether I really ought to be being more fastidious about the different stitches, or if the drawing-with-thread thing turns out to be an okay effect. I am capable of being really tidy, it just doesn't seem to be necessary-- I'd rather have my stitches be slightly uneven depending on what exactly I'm trying to do with the line. But maybe that will just look like a mess when I'm done? (Like, since the pattern is a horse, facing sideways, the foreleg closer to the viewer has bigger, bolder stitches; the foreleg further from the viewer has smaller stitches with a little bit of the background showing between them. I just sort of did it that way, and can't judge the overall effect just yet. But that's what I'm talking about. The closer leg is more like a stem stitch or outline stitch, while the distant leg is closer to a running stitch. But it's not precise. And sometimes it's messy.)
Anyway I have an idea for a series I want to do, as if this were paintings or art or something, and I really want to start working on it, but it's not art and I have other things to do besides making art anyway.
Boo.
I really want to do this series, though. But it's better to focus crafts on the production of things suitable to be given as gifts, and I don't know if I could actually give these away... We'll see. I've got to get my stitching up to snuff to do the one gift I've sort of committed to making already.
I've considered getting it repaired, but it's handy that she can let herself out. I've considered fixing it so that there's a neat open hole, but it seems silly to devote effort to it when we're about to take the screen out and put the glass in for the winter instead.
She makes a bit of noise coming through this hole, since it's about 18 inches off the floor-- she has to jump up, balance for a second, then go through it, and coming in from outside she makes even more noise because she has to jump up from the step there. It rattles, sort of. It rattles almost the same way as it does when someone opens up the door to walk through it, apparently.
Just now I was out hanging laundry on the line in the backyard, and Z is preparing dinner in the kitchen. I came in the kitchen door, and he greeted me, in falsetto, "Hello!"
A bit surprised at his tone of voice, I said, "Uh, hi."
He started, and turned around. "I thought you were the kitty!"
"Aw," I said. "Well, you could pet me instead."
He looked at me. I batted my eyelashes. Then I realized he was dredging raw meat in flour preparatory to browning it in a soup kettle. He looked at me again. "Naw," he said. "Go and get the kitty, she'd enjoy this more."
* * *
In other news I am completely enamored of the concept of embroidering. I have not been mastering the different stitches too well-- mostly I'm just doing odd hybrids of several of the most common ones. The thing is... they're just not that different.
We'll see once I've finished this sampler-thing whether I really ought to be being more fastidious about the different stitches, or if the drawing-with-thread thing turns out to be an okay effect. I am capable of being really tidy, it just doesn't seem to be necessary-- I'd rather have my stitches be slightly uneven depending on what exactly I'm trying to do with the line. But maybe that will just look like a mess when I'm done? (Like, since the pattern is a horse, facing sideways, the foreleg closer to the viewer has bigger, bolder stitches; the foreleg further from the viewer has smaller stitches with a little bit of the background showing between them. I just sort of did it that way, and can't judge the overall effect just yet. But that's what I'm talking about. The closer leg is more like a stem stitch or outline stitch, while the distant leg is closer to a running stitch. But it's not precise. And sometimes it's messy.)
Anyway I have an idea for a series I want to do, as if this were paintings or art or something, and I really want to start working on it, but it's not art and I have other things to do besides making art anyway.
Boo.
I really want to do this series, though. But it's better to focus crafts on the production of things suitable to be given as gifts, and I don't know if I could actually give these away... We'll see. I've got to get my stitching up to snuff to do the one gift I've sort of committed to making already.