scarlettina: (Everything Easier)
As a result of her surgery, Sophie has a large shaved spot on her side, in the midst of which is her giant incision, stitched up and looking like something Frankenstein might have done. The temptation to touch the shaved area is just too strong to resist, because it's the closest I get to actually touching her rather than her fur. Don't get me wrong: her fur is thick and wooly and soft and luxurious and I love to pet her. But it's not touching her. I am very careful not to touch her incision, but I can't help touching the very warm (101.5 degrees Fahrenheit is the normal temp for a cat), velvety area around it. Her skin is that mottled, motley pattern shown in her fur; she's a true tortie calico, right down to her dermis. And right now she has vanishingly short, velvety stubble, lovely to touch.

She's being very assertive about spending time with me, which delights me, because she's so often cowed by Zeke, who can be very jealous. But Zeke is staying out of her way, which also pleases me. She's not being harassed during her recuperation.

She is my little sweetheart and I think she's feeling better than she's felt in quite some time. She seems to be recovering well. This is a goodness.

--------

And now for something completely different. As [personal profile] ironymaiden would say, here's a shiny object I found on the internet.
scarlettina: (Five)
The to-do list: I made a "To do" list this morning. It has 16 things on it. I've done four. They were time-consuming, but they are done. I still, however, am staring 12 things to do in the face. I am comforted by the fact that some of these things are things I can't do on a Sunday. Some require leaving the house (I'm still in my nightshirt and sweats [see time stamp]). And apparently I needed an epic nap today (three hours). So of the things that require neither leaving the house nor doing on a Sunday, that leaves only eight things. I, um, ought to get right on those.

Halloween: Attended the one and only Halloween party to which I was invited last night. (Well, two, actually, but the first one was more of a stop-and-hop.) It was . . . not quite what I expected, but that's OK. I wore the black leather halter top with a white peasant shirt, black leggings and black leather boots, and called myself a generic fantasy villain. If I work in the office tomorrow, I have a different costume planned. Will I do my annual Halloween post here? We'll see. I don't believe I did one last year. Hm.

Sophie: Sophie has developed some unfortunate bathroom habits. I'm going to call the vet on Monday to get her checked for UTI and possible referral to a behaviorist. This CANNOT go on. At the same time, I find myself wondering if she is keying off of my own personal distress. If that's the case, this might go on for a while.

Exercise: This weather (dark, cold, rainy, wolves) is not encouraging me to exercise. Tonight, I'm going to try on every piece of workout clothing in the house, pack my gym bag, and hit the gym at the office. The price is right (free) and it's stupid not to take advantage of it.

David Delamare: My friend WI has made it public, so I wanted to make a note of the passing of her incredibly gifted husband, artist/musician/writer David Delamare. Wendy, David and I have been acquaintances for years, but we'd only begun to really get to know each other in the last two years or so. I was one of the proofer/editors on their Alice in Wonderland project, something I was delighted to be a part of. When I learned of his death about a month ago, it was a shock because it was so completely unexpected. My prevailing feeling is one of disappointment because, as we'd been getting to know each other, I was discovering how much we had in common and how wonderful it would be to get David's perspective on things we both enjoyed. Wendy's mourning for David has in many ways been more of a celebration of his life, and so I am following suit, remembering our brief friendship and trying to pursue my own arts in whatever way I can to honor him.

Miss Sophie at 7

Tue, Apr. 19th, 2016 06:44 am
scarlettina: (Angel)
I have been remiss! On April 15, my beloved Sophie turned 7 years old and I did not post my annual portrait of her! I attempted to take pictures this morning, but she was being a squirmy girl so this is the best shot I could get of her. Given that she's 7, and moving into what vets consider seniorhood, the fact that she's still kittenish and playful is, I think, a very good sign indeed.

Click to embiggen
Sophie at 7

Sophie is 6!

Wed, Apr. 15th, 2015 08:43 am
scarlettina: (Happy birthday cupcake!)
Six years ago on Tax Day, my tax kitty was born. Has she been taxing? No, not at all. I say of Ezekiel that he was born for action. Sophie was born for love. Yes, she's a little chubby, but all the better for cuddling. She's still my beautiful girl, and I couldn't ask for a better feline companion. Happy birthday, my Sophie Sestina!

Feline ritual

Tue, Feb. 3rd, 2015 07:59 am
scarlettina: (Everything Easier)
The felines in your life will teach you about ritual. Now is when we eat. Now is when we sleep. Now, now, NOW is when we play. They will cry plaintively if this schedule is deviated from for even a moment. Cats are creatures of habit. Woe betide those who break their rhythms.

Ezekiel is both the brainiest and neediest cat I've ever had. So smart he gets bored without constant stimulation, he also requires a proper shape to his day. The human must be up and out of bed sometime around 5 AM. This is the first battle of the day, because the human prefers to stay in bed--not unreasonably--at least until 6. Then it's love-love-love all the way from the bedroom to the kitchen, where more love ensues while I prepare breakfast for the four-legged set. Once breakfast is completed, it's time for attention. Now, I prefer to eat my breakfast and do my LJ/Facebook/NY Times run. But as far as the cats, specifically Zeke, are concerned, now is the time on Sprockets when we play. So he cries and he does gravity experiments. He has broken more than one precious thing in the practice of this ritual abuse.

The answer I've developed is to let him get just worked up enough so that when I finally do get up to pay attention to him, he actually waits for me before running off--which he will invariably do because cats make little sense. Sometimes he runs off to sit next to the very specific toy with which he wishes to play. Sometimes he just runs off. On those days when he does the latter, I grab him up, take him back with me to my chair, settle him in my lap and give him the Morning Scritch. This involves stretching the length of him across my lap, with his head toward my right arm, and then using both hands to scritch his head and neck, whence cometh the motorized purr. Then it's scritches up and down his body, which makes him so happy that he purrs louder, kneads my arm, and drools. And this goes on for quite a while. It amazing how quickly one can get used to drool. I suppose new parents learn this pretty quickly.

The thing is, once we've had the Morning Scritch, I'm pretty much free for a good portion of the rest of the day. Attention Has Been Paid. And once Zeke goes upstairs to sit in the cat tree by the window, woe unto me if I disturb him. Hiss. Growl. But if I work at home or if it's a weekend, there must be play late in the day, around 3:30-4ish. I can't be home unless play is on the schedule. Meowing for play often lasts well into the evening. Sometimes I'll get into bed and Zeke will bring me a toy because the play must continue. But by then he's figured out that it's dark and the human is going to take her long nap.

And Sophie? Sophie is all about the love. But apparently I've loved her enough that she's not quite so needy. We cuddle up when I read. She sits behind my left shoulder on the top edge of the couch when I watch TV; either that, or she crawls under the afghan I'll wrap around myself at those times. She always sleeps with me. I think it's easier being Sophie than it is being Ezekiel. Less work. More relaxing. Not so regimented. I did something right with her. With Zeke, well, if the price I must pay for finding him inscrutable as a kitten is paying attention to him as a full-grown tom, I can live with that. I'll get less sleep, and there will be more slime, but I'll live. In a very structured, ritualized way.
scarlettina: (Happy birthday cupcake!)
Five years ago today, a little calico tortie cat was born. She has grown into a beautiful queen. She is the first girl cat I've ever had, and she has a kind of sweetness that reminds me of my dear Merlin in his later years. Mostly what she wants is company, cuddles and a warm patch of sunshine. When she's happy, she does sommersaults. She's five years old, my sweet little clown, my lovely girl.

Just look at her--how she started and what she looks like today.

DSC_4525

IMG_0388

And here she is with her younger brother. Are they the best of friends? No. But they have definitely achieved a friendly detente. (Sophie's learned to look at the camera; Zeke hasn't quite figured out yet that he's doomed to a life as a photographic subject at Chez [livejournal.com profile] scarlettina. He'll get there.)

IMG_0378

Love and loyalty

Wed, Oct. 2nd, 2013 08:40 pm
scarlettina: (Everything Easier)
Quite some time ago, I spent about 6 months with a man I was pretty fond of. It all ended rather badly, mainly because he was a dysfunctional coward. But the one good thing he did that stuck was give Sophie what I came to call the mouse-snake, a toy that was a mouse head with a rattle inside, and a long fur tail. She took the tail apart within a couple of months, but has preserved the head, loved the head, carried the head around with her ever since.

Tonight I came home to find the head in two pieces on the staircase: the rattle inside and the fur covering separate from each other. I picked them both up, saluted their faithful service and, while Sophie wasn't looking, put them in the kitchen garbage.

I just came out of the bathroom to find them both on the kitchen floor. She'd opened the cabinet, gotten into the garbage and pulled them out. That, my friends, is true love.

Now I'm trying to figure out if there's cat-safe glue somewhere that I can use to repair the thing. I was thinking about epoxying it all together, but I suspect it wouldn't be safe so--not doing that. I've also poked around the internet trying to find another one of these toys--to no avail. I'll figure something out. Sophie needs her mouse-snake.
scarlettina: (Five)
1) I am in the process of cleaning up my bedroom. It's fascinating what such archeology can turn up, especially given my epic levels of clutter tolerance. Here's one thing I've realized over the last couple of days: Leaving things in piles for stupid-long periods of time enables me to detach from them emotionally, making them easier to dispose of when I finally dismantle the piles. I don't think I ever consciously understood this before. It's not a technique I recommend but apparently it's one way I deal with separation anxiety from clothes and other emotionally-freighted inanimate objects. Back in the dark corners of my head, I fear this is the first step toward my becoming a hoarder.

2) Cats are creatures of habit. I have always known this; it's a thing you come to understand after living with them for decades. But Zeke takes it to a whole new level. Mornings are models of clockwork efficiency:
--Wake up human at 5 AM on the dot by confirming that gravity still functions. Method: Knock the glasses case off the night table.
--Meow for breakfast.
--Eat breakfast and then attempt to eat other cat's breakfast.
--Meow for playtime. Ensure that gravity still functions by attempting to knock toy dalek off shelf, thereby rousing human from breakfast table.
--Playtime: chase feather toy. Fetch feather toy.
--Meow for attention.
--Settle into human's lap, knead arm, soak sleeve with drool.
--Retreat to quiet corner and chill.
This pattern occurs every morning. Every morning. There is no breaking it. This is why it's hard for me to write in the mornings. Zeke must be attended to. If I put him in the carrier, it's 20 minutes of piteous meowing, which also interferes with writing.

3) Sophie attempted to rip open my arm yesterday. Actually, she succeeded in a pretty spectacular fashion. As I removed her from the kitchen table, she inflicted upon my wrist a three-inch gouge that, 24 hours later, is still sore, not to mention the lighter, 5-inch scratch further up that same arm. I look like something out of Frankenstein's laboratory. It will most certainly leave a mark.

4) Winter is coming. My bedding is in transitional mode. Yesterday I removed and washed the summer bedding and replaced it with summer sheets and a winter quilt. It's not quite yet cold enough for me to put on the jersey sheets yet, though I suspect the time is coming. Must start transitioning the closet as well.

5) I'm starting a work-out routine again. I'll probably write more about this at some point soon, but there's a gym in the basement of my office building equipped with not just the usual gym accoutrements but a full-time manager and trainers. I have an appointment with a trainer today. I'm hoping to kickstart my weight loss again. Should be interesting.
scarlettina: (Five)
1) Non-binding Reading Poll: The results are in. In a tie for first place was The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks and Ha'penny. The latter won my attention and I started it on the bus this morning. Quite enjoying it so far.

2) Entertainments: In the last couple of weeks, I've taken a tour of the historic Paramount Theater here in Seattle (fascinating and moving), visited EMP for the "Fantasy: Worlds of Myth and Magic" exhibit which I thoroughly enjoyed, had a fabulous weekend on the Olympic Peninsula in Quilcene and Port Townsend, and took a marvelous tour of historic homes in Portland. It's been a good, busy time.

3) Uncommitted: Monday, Tuesday, and tonight are the first uncommitted evenings I've had in weeks, and it feels like an absolutely luxury. I have an appointment tomorrow evening (hair cut and color), and then the weekend is pretty loose--and I'm working hard to have it remain so. I need the time, mostly to decompress and find myself a little bit again.

4) Sophie bit my nose: I was sitting here on the computer and I started whistling. Both Sophie and Zeke started meowing. Sophie jumped up and settled on my lap. I continued to whistle ("I Feel Pretty," to be specific). Then she got up, perched her front paws on my chest, opened her mouth, tilted her head and chomped the bridge of my nose! She didn't break the skin, but she bit hard enough for me to get the message that she didn't like my whistling. Which makes me sad. I love to whistle. Ow. Maybe she just doesn't like Leonard Bernstein but I am not inclined to experiment to find out, if a chomp on the nose is the consequence. Ow.

5) Gardening: I have harvested several salads from the lettuce I planted on the balcony earlier this summer, and it's been delightful to have fresh salad right at my fingertips. I'm looking forward to the carrots getting large enough to pick. I hope they succeed. I suspect they will be kind of small, given my balcony, its exposure and so on, but it was worth a try. We Shall See.

Post-script: The unrepentant beast:
The Unrepentant Beast
scarlettina: (Huh?)
The sun's coming up much earlier than it used to. Cats are light-activated. This means that as the sun rises, so do Zeke and Sophie and--inevitably--so must I. Zeke in particular is very insistent that I must get-up get-up get-up to feed and play with him. This morning, instead of the constant meow-meow-meow of Zeke's morning serenade, I awakened naturally, with Sophie snuggling up to me and insisting on cuddles the way she used to before Zeke joined the household. It was a lovely interlude and I savored it because it so rarely happens anymore. The level of unusualness of this situation cannot be overemphasized, however. Where was Zeke?

I called for Zeke. I called for him again. No response. I panicked. Had he gotten caught between the bed and the wall and wrung his own neck? That was my first fear. The adrenalin kicked in. I called and called for him. No response. I grabbed a flashlight and looked under and around the bed. No Zeke. Just as I was going to the closet to see if I'd locked him in (except that I remembered him on the bed the night before), he came trotting into my bedroom and looked at me as if to say, "What? Did you need something?" Naturally, I scooped him up and hugged him tight. He squirmed out of my arms and trotted into the kitchen. He is an evil beast.

But the tale's not done. I fed him and Sophie breakfast and then, instead of harassing me to play with him, he disappeared again. I read the internets in peace for a while, and then began to wonder what was going on. I wandered upstairs to find him in the cat tree in the living room. He was meatloaf-sitting at the top of the tree staring intently out the window. The view is of the roof that juts out over my downstairs neighbor's unit (along with a lot of trees). At the end of the roof is the gutter. A crow sat on the edge of the gutter pulling at what looks like a rodent carcass of some kind inside the gutter; I could only see bits sticking up over the edge (which was just fine by me). Sophie joined us at the window, and she looked slightly off to the right. I followed her gaze to discover a little pile of entrails about a foot from the window. Apparently some creature--a rat, a squirrel?--fell victim to some other creature--cat, raccoon? Who knows?

Zeke is still upstairs at the window. Sophie's down here with me, bathing in a patch of sunlight. The scare of maybe finding Zeke injured or worse has passed. The fact that he has a gruesome sort of entertainment both pleases me and freaks me out a little bit. But I must remember: I live with nocturnal predators. What entertains them will not necessarily entertain me. I can only hope but that we can find other ways to entertain each other.

Just not . . . with entrails. Ick.
scarlettina: (Angel)
Today is my Sophie's fourth birthday! Happy birthday, my living plushie, my sweet pussycat.

Sophie expects treats
scarlettina: (Pennysmasher)
1) Near as I can tell, Zeke has figured out how to open drawers. This is so not good.

2) Zeke has figured out how to climb into the open corner between where my over-the-sink kitchen cabinets meet. He perches on the light fixture. The not-goodness of this development cannot be overstated. It may be adorable in the attached picture, but I live in fear of the day when he's heavy enough to pull down the fixture--and the bottom of the cabinet to which it is attached, thereby smashing every bit of crockery stored therein. Must come up with a solution of some kind--like closing up that corner somehow.

Zeke in the Cabinets

3) I spend so much time taking him off of counters and bookshelves, sometimes by the scruff of his neck because it's all I can get to, that I worry that I'm bruising him. The squirtgun seems to be only so effective.

4) My trip preparation is under way. The penny-smashing machine location list has been printed out. Pennies have been cleaned and prepared for smashing. Ziploc baggies and a Sharpie marker have been marshaled. Now I just need to pick up a couple of rolls of quarters--though I suspect such things aren't hard to find in Las Vegas. In other trip news, the packing list has been assembled, a cat sitter has been arranged for, and laundry has been done. But the penny-smashing kit--the most important thing--is nearly ready. :-)

5) The next scariest thing to Zeke up in the cabinets? Sophie eying his antics with . . . fascination. Oy.
scarlettina: (Autumn)
Sophie sits by the sliding doors to the balcony, mewing plaintively. She is clearly distressed. The balcony is damp from the rain and littered with fallen leaves from trees nearby. They are every shape and color, quite pretty actually.

Sophie: Let me out. Let me out. Let me out let me out let me out!
Me: OK, OK. Clearly this can't wait.
(I open the door. Sophie scoots out, very deliberately grabs one particular red, almond-shaped leaf, and scoots back in. She puts the leaf down in the middle of the living room floor and then looks up at me.)
Sophie: The leaf was cold. And wet. See? It's better in here.
Me: I . . . see your point.
(I pet her. She leans into the caress, but . . .)
Sophie: Good. So long as we understand each other.
(Sophie walks away. The leaf lays there, undisturbed by me or her or Ezekiel for about fifteen minutes. Sophie comes back and looks at it.)
Sophie: It'll be even better once I bite it.
(Sophie descends upon the leaf and crumbles it in more-or-less in half. She attempts to chew on the bits.)
Sophie: No, no. You know? I liked it better the way it was. Feh on this broken leaf. Feh!
(Sophie walks away.)
scarlettina: (Sleepy)
1) There's a big, handsome Steller's Jay on the neighbor's roof pecking at moss. Of which we have a lot in the Pacific Northwest.

2) Ezekiel woke me at 3:30 this morning. I fought him off, drowsed, was awakened again by him and Sophie playing tag on the bed, and ultimately got up because some nights sleep is a lost cause. I am tired.

3) Ezekiel's been about nothing but "Pay attention to me" today. I don't think he's getting quite the kind of attention he hoped for.

4) Last night's release party for L.A. Kornetsky's (a.k.a. [livejournal.com profile] suricattus) new novel "Collared" was great fun, and I'm sorry more people didn't show. The cake was to die for.

5) Sophie is sleeping more regularly with me again. I'm so glad.
scarlettina: (Everything Easier)
Every year in the fall, Microsoft runs what they call the Giving Campaign. Basically, it's the company push for charity giving, and employees give like crazy. Microsoft is a pretty remarkable corporate citizen. While most of these efforts aren't inclusive of vendors and other contingent staffers, some are. One of the open efforts is the Cats of Microsoft calendar, featuring photographs of employee pussycats. How it works is that you make a donation to a particular local animal shelter and then, depending upon the level of your donation, you can submit X number of photographs, a smaller proportion of which will be included in the final calendar. Now, each donor is guaranteed a certain number of photographs in the calendar--every day gets a cat so there's plenty of room--but no one is guaranteed to be the main featured photograph for a month. Those spots are competitive and chosen by a juried panel.

Of the five photographs I submitted, two were chosen for inclusion, one as the featured cat for February, and one as a runner-up for April--both pictures of my beautiful Sophie. (I also submitted two of Merlin, neither of which was chosen.) Here are those pictures:

February Sophie:
Sophie expects treats


April Sophie:
Sophie endorses shopping locally


That's my girl, only 3 and already a model! :-)

ETA: Just found out that Sophie will also be included in a day thumbnail picture in the calendar--that's three pics! The team tells me that this almost never happens. I'm willing to take some of the credit for this as the photographer--but Sophie gets the lion's share for being such a beautiful girl. Here's the third picture:

Sophie Considers Dark Matter
scarlettina: (Blue)
On Sunday nights: I guess I don't like Sunday nights very much. I mean, they're just as good as other evenings for getting together with friends--and I did have a lovely afternoon and evening with EB--but I always get a little blue past about 8 PM on Sundays. The weekend is over, and once the sun rises on Monday, my time stops being my own in 8 hour chunks over the next week.

On the King Tut exhibit at Pacific Science Center: Nice exhibit, well put together. Some beautiful stuff is included and I'm glad EB and I went. It's not the really spectacular, big stuff from the excavation; it's beautiful smaller things that one doesn't often get to see. I spent quite a bit of time studying the inlaid canopic coffinnette and the beaded collars, reverse engineering the things and thinking about how I could recreate them with the bead-weaving techniques I've learned in the last couple of years. It can be done. It will be time-consuming, but it is certainly doable. The captions throughout the exhibit are quite fine. The hour we went--late in the day--meant that the exhibit wasn't dizzyingly crowded, which was a blessing. Overall it was a small exhibit but pretty satisfying, a nice way to spent a late afternoon. EB and I had Indian food together afterward, excellent time and I'm happy to have had it.

On Sophie and Ezekiel: Woke with them both on the bed this morning. Caught them sleeping under the ottoman together this afternoon. And lots of wrastlin' with each other. Ezekiel mews piteously when Sophie has him pinned, but then he extracts himself and provokes her again. It's classic little-brother-big-sister dynamics in action. YAY!

On the Europe trip pictures: I took 800+ pictures on the trip, only to discover that my lens was dirty. Every picture with a clear blue sky shows spots here and there, so I'm going through, one by one, and cleaning them up in Photoshop. It's taking more time than I would prefer, but I'm the kind of perfectionist that needs to do it . . . so I'm doing it. ::sigh::. It means the pix won't be showing up for a while. I'll post as they're up on Flickr and ready to go.

On the election: I voted within a week or so of receiving my ballot, so my part in the election is pretty much done. I'm worried for this country. The partisanship that has infected our way of doing government has gotten so vile that it's hard to be confident about our future no matter who is elected. I don't understand how the Republican party can do business the way it does; I don't understand how they can ascribe to the positions they espouse. I don't understand how a party can make, as its first order of business, a plan to prioritize the president's defeat over actually governing the country. It's a fundamental difference of philosophy and perspective, and it baffles me. I love my country, but I don't like it very much right now. I hope that the election brings about some positive change. We've got to get this nation moving in a positive direction with a little more velocity.

On books: I mentioned recently finishing reading "Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl." I also recently finished the absolutely brilliant "John Adams," the biography by David McCullough, which I keep meaning to thoroughly review and failing to do so. It's wonderful; everyone with an interest in biographies, in history, or just in good nonfiction should read it. It's remarkable, every single page. I keep trying to start other books and just not having the concentration to do it, even though my "to read" pile by the bed continues to get taller with both fiction and nonfiction. Nothing is charming me right now. I don't know if it's that McCullough has spoiled me or if I'm just tired or what. I may need to take a little reading hiatus and try some other book in a couple of days--but only a couple. I need my reading time.
scarlettina: (Five)
1) I'm glad to hear that my friends and family back east are safe as Big Mother-F*cking Storm Sandy moves on.

2) Weather in Seattle has been mild and damp, not as cold as one would expect at the end of October for which I'm truly grateful.

3) I'm way behind in processing my Europe trip pictures. Maybe I'll get more done tonight. ::fingers crossed:: Trouble is that I discovered spots on a lot of the pictures, which suggests that my lens was dirty and I didn't notice. I'm just glad that I have enough facility with Photoshop to attend to it, but it's slowing down my preferred posting speed.

4) This house desperately needs to be decluttered and vacuumed. I have no idea when this is going to happen.

5) Ezekiel Report, Day 4: Zeke has settled in nicely. He's playful, affectionate, and curious. He and Sophie seem to have achieved detente--no more hissing, but lots of sniffing each other nose-to-nose and a great deal of chasing each other about the house. Sophie has been unwilling to cuddle or sleep with me since Zeke's arrival which, while expected, has been genuinely upsetting to me. Last night for the first time, both Sophie and Zeke got up on the bed at the same time. This morning, when I woke up to Zeke kneeding my cheek, I discovered a big lump at my feet--Sophie, curled up between the top sheet and the quilt. It's not the kind of cuddling with her that I'm used to, but as far as I'm concerned it's progress.

BONUS! 6) This evening on KUOW-FM (94.9 FM, also streaming online and available as a podcast), Selected Shorts is offering Tales of Terror by Edgar Allan Poe, featuring "The Tell-Tale Heart" and "The Raven," hosted by Neil Gaiman. What a lovely, seasonally appropriate program!
scarlettina: (Five)
1) I committed to wearing a costume at work on Halloween. What was I thinking? ::headdesk::

2) Took a class in metal stamping at Fusion Beads on Tuesday evening. All that hammering was quite therapeutic! I came away with a couple of pieces for myself and at least one, possibly two gifts. It's fun to learn new techniques and I liked this one a great deal, but the start-up cost to move into this area of jewelry making seems prohibitive to me--hundreds of dollars to set up a proper workbench, though you wouldn't guess it by just looking at the tools. I'll dabble here.

3) When I work at home, Sophie has taken to curling up under the desk. But she's also taken to trying to nibble on my toes while she's there. I need to address this somehow.

4) I'm working on a Sekrit Projekt. More when it concludes and isn't a sekrit anymore.

5) Lighting a virtual candle in remembrance of Janet Berliner-Gluckman. My heart goes out to [livejournal.com profile] robertlfleck and all those who knew and loved Janet. I knew her in the early years of my publishing career, and saw her once or twice when I moved out west. I remember her as a smart, sly, funny presence at conventions and at dinners, sharp as hell, supportive of the writers around her, ambitious and talented.
scarlettina: (UFO: Believe)
She's on the balcony staring at . . . something. I follow her gaze and hear clicking. It turns out that there's a hummingbird hovering about off the balcony about two feet away from her, studying her. The bird darts back and up; Sophie follows every move . . . and then the bird buzzes away. I didn't grab the camera because I didn't want to startle either one of them. I'm glad I let them both have that moment.
scarlettina: (Default)
This morning before I started my ablutions, I let Sophie onto the balcony for some fresh air. As I was preparing to leave, I went to call her inside. The following conversation ensued.

Me: Sophie, time to come in.
Sophie: Just a minute. I'm sniffing this cobweb.
Me: Sophie, come on in now. I have to go.
Sophie: Hang on. This is really important.
Me: Sophie, come on.
Sophie: But the pine tree is swaying in the wind. I have to sniff the wind. No, the tree!(Sophie sniff-sniff-sniffs, then settles down comfortably in meatloaf position.)
Me: (sterner) Sophie, don't get comfortable. It's time to come in. Now.
(Sophie gets up and turns around to face me. A breeze blows, ruffling the new coleus plant I repotted into the balcony planter last night.)
Sophie: (earnestly) But Coleus will be lonely. (Rubs up against planter. Looks at me imploringly.) I can't leave her out here by herself.
Me: Yes, yes you can. She's a plant. She was made for this. Come in now.
Sophie: (hangs head) OK. (comes inside)
(I shut the sliding door.)
Sophie: (looks up at me.) You're mean.
Me: I'm not that mean. I feed you.
Sophie: (rubs up against me) I love you!

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