I wasn’t gone that long...

…you know I step outside to use the outhouse….as any self-respecting feline would do if allowed….I mean it’s either that or jumping in the box….that some other cat poo-ed in……. ewwwwww….no thanks I’ll take the flower bed outside thank you very much.

So anyway, you know I couldn’t have been gone for any great length of time.  It’s not like I’m 90 years old and have “issues”. Nope, not a one .  But I might as well have been gone for weeks.  Look what I came back to! Oh the horror….

Recognize it?! No, me neither….initially….and then it hits me.....like a mouse on roller skates…..MY STUDIO….what have you done with my studio?!?!  Why’s all my furniture pushed up against the window?!?
And the why all the boxes in the office?!?  It looks like a bomb went off in there.  More so than the norm…I mean there is stuff everywhere and no where it belongs!!  I can barely get to the cat tree or the scratching post!  Not to mention the things I’m not supposed to scratch on!

Hello? What’s this? New unidentified object here.  And it doesn't look like good junk or anything I authorized.....

A Virginia Mill works in China? I thought Virginia was in the United States and China was in er….China.  And what the heck is “Quiet Walk”?!?! Who wants to walk quiet?!  Don’t want it – take it back and purrlease put my furniture right back where it belongs or things are going to get ugly I’m telling you…..


You’re installing the Virginia Mill? 

In my studio?

Don’t want it, thank you though.  Don’t need no stinkin’ mill.  I send "her" to the lumber store for my wood and it works out just fine thank you.

Oh. It’s hardwood flooring?!  But I like the carpet quite fine. Really I do! So can we like move the stuff back now?  I mean really I’m okay with the carpet.  Really…..

Yep, "she" ordered the hardwood flooring.  And during the Fourth of July weekend, “her” and Dad are going to install it.  Oh yeah, looks like I’ll be seeing the fireworks up close and purrsonal this year!!!  

Hmmmm…..this could be exciting! Maybe even having my room torn up for a week isn’t so bad after all. With everything everywhere......oh this could be quite the adventure.....stick with me, I think we could have some fun in the next few days.....are you game?!


Where "She" Creates....

Stuff.  Whatcha-ma-call-its.  Whirlys. Thingys. Fluffs. And Rusters!

Sometimes “she” creates things so beautiful you could fall in love and marry them.  And other things….well, in one word, “eek”.  No matter what “she” creates in the studio, one thing is certain, it’s also a purrfect place for creating a purrfect nap!      

It might be on top of a work station (shown above), in her chair or even on top of soft old fabric.  It’s all fair game!  Although there are some things you’d probably want to stay away from when choosing a nap location.  Flower frogs being one of them – there is a small collection in one of her workbench cubbies.  “She” claims they are great for displaying notes and layouts.  That’s fine and I will take “her” word on this, but don’t look for me to be laying out on any of them.

Ever taken a nap inside a drawer or shelf?  Me neither.  Here in the studio, there are lots of those for storage,  but when you are competing with the ever expanding collection of supplies (aka furball collectors), well it’s just pretty obvious finding space to park my furry tail isn’t going to happen.  I mean take a look will you???

On the upside though, a properly placed midnight furball may escape notice amongst all that stuff.  Which means that the perpetrator may never be caught ;)  It’s really a fun and challenging game – so far “she” hasn’t caught anyone in the act.  Doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened.  Just means no one has seen us do it. 

Oops, sorry got off topic about the glories of having a studio – I mean “her” studio. “She” has the studio, we just visit and leave cat fur on everything.  But it’s “her” studio really.  I mean c’mon – someone’s gotta vacuum out here.  So we tell “her” it belongs to “her” and then “she” takes care of the cleaning.  Anyway….where was I.....

“Her” studio, yes.  There are old colanders of lace trims and stacks of heavy linen hand loomed fabric.  

Rusty parts and pieces for collage and assemblage.  

What else is out here?  Of course, markers, graphite pencils, colored pencils, inks, pigma pens, acrylics, watercolours and brushes, and papers of all materials and sizes!

Old people pictures.  Hundreds of pictures of old.  Er….people who would be old if they were alive.  But they are probably dead by now.  Well not all of them, some weren't that old.  The pictures I mean.  Well and some of the people weren't that old.  In the pictures. Anyway, “she” has pictures of them. When they were alive.

And enough books and magazines to supply a herd of cats with litterbox tissue rolls for years.  Here’s Tessa keeping guard – it’s an important stash I tell you. I'm training her to look ferocious like me.  How am I doing??? I think she's trying to copy the Clint Eastwood glint in her eye....ferocious!

 If I sold these books and magazines I could start up a fish farm and live like a king I tell you! But then there would be no litterbox tissue for my old age when my little chops become delicate.  So the magazine and book collection will stay.  

“She’s” kinda partial to it anyway.  “She” has some very old books like late 1700’s, early 1800’s that have the softest linen paper…..(yes, I will use these first)……and the illustrations, oh my whiskers!  They simply don’t print books like that anymore!!!  The depth of ink and print…..”she” loves the look of the old book pages! And old papers and documents!!!!

And how about the old stuff?!?  Oh my my my!  Vignettes everywhere!  “Her” step-son recently said that it reminds him of art installations.  Purrsonally, I think he was hoping for a second piece of blackberry cobbler.  No matter.  Whatever you want to call it they are everywhere.  “She” rearranges them pretty frequently (that’s when the giant killer dust bunnies come out to play) and tells me they provide a constant source of inspiration.  No, not the killer dust bunnies, the vignettes.

There is a cat's moon in the studio - it is her latest creation and it covers the attic vent purrfectly!  “Her” room used to be a sun porch in a previous life and before that just a deck.  Hence the attic vent.  This should help with keeping those hot attic heat waves from entering the studio.  

Of course with huge windows on three sides of this room, it can still get pretty toasty out here.  Thank goodness for the window AC unit!  I can lay on her worktable and let my whiskers blow in the breeze and check out the views in comfort.  It’s even better if she’s got the table covered up with something "she's" working on - I feel it's important to contribute cat fur to everything created here.  Cat fur means it passed my quality standards inspection! It's an important job, but I'm up for it!

Ah, well look there!  I see an empty space on the work table and it's calling my name ....time for a nap!  Thank you so much for stopping by, I really do appurrciate it!  If you have a moment, please leave me a comment.  That way if I was napping, I will still know you stopped by!

And of course, if you enjoyed your visit, I'd love to have you as a furriend! Purrhaps you'd consider signing up as a follower so that you could come along on all my adventures!

Many thanks to Karen for hosting this event - you've made it all possible!  

Enjoy your tour of  "Where Bloggers Create"!!!  


Anyone need assistance?

Yep, it's almost that time.

You know what I'm talking about.....Karen Time.  Where everything but time is created!

My apprentices and I have been busy helping "her" take pictures.

For some reason the camera is not doing what she wants.  Some of the pictures are coming out blurry even when she uses the automatic setting.

I keep suggesting that maybe it's the lighting.

Is "she" listening?

Yeah, sure "she" is.  Told me that I should go get a snack to help with all the brainpower I am using.  "She's" right all this thinking I am having to do to help "her" must certainly be draining my resources.  So I go get a snack.

Hard to believe, but I over estimated the amount of brain power I was using.

Ate too much.

Yep, barfed it back up.

Hey, at least I hit the hardwood floor instead of the carpet.  Besides, "she" needed a break anyway.

I don't think "she" fully appreciated the break.  I'm thinking purrhaps I have been undervalued in efforts to assist with this adventure.

"She" will thank me later.

I'm certain.

"She" told me I could have the afternoon off.  But being the gentleman I am, I ask.....anyone need assistance?



in the pond.

You don't understand the issue here do you?

It's okay.  Most folks don't get it, so let me explain.

"She" put in a pond right outside the front bay window for us cats, the owners of this domain.  It's great entertainment while we sun ourselves.  It wasn't always that way though.

The pond would leak.  The pond flowers begged to be sucked out with the escaping water.

The flowers around it thought the soil was Martian ground and so they committed death by sun rays.  It allowed them to escape to better lands.

 So, do I need to tell you that certainly no self-respecting frog would bother to come up from the BIG pond to live in this mud puddle?  

But then things changed…..

 And during this magical time the frogs finally did come to visit.  

Soon they stayed longer and longer.  And then one of them moved in before winter.  

 And he survived.  I am not sure if he lived under the frozen top layer of the pond or buried in the dirt or sand under the pond.  He won't say.  What I do know is that he is large.  LARGE! HUGE!

Yesterday, I went to the pond for drink and to check on my piranha.  And out of no where, he came at me! Straight for my ears I tell you!!!  Did he think of my ears as a snack? Or was he trying to hop on for a ride?!?  Up close and purrsonal, I tell you he was HUGE!

And to make matters worse, there are THREE of them.  They are all HUGE.  Frogs on steroids I tell you.

 Add insult to injury….”she” has named them!  Mr. and Mrs. Pickle for two of them. Because they look like kosher pickles.  No name for the third one.  Yet.

I’ll be hiding lounging under the bush  licking my wounds planning my attack
and straightening my whiskers.  Please send milk – I feel faint. 



SIRENS!   The doorbell.

Your first and last warning that all is about to be turned upside down.

I should have seen it coming.  “She” had been cleaning and straightening all day.  Dad mowed the grass and hung up shutters.  Shutters that the house has been without for 30 something years and done just fine.  All the signs were there.  LOTS of signs that I should have paid more attention to. 

But I didn’t. 

And then it was too late.

The aliens arrived. 

Three of them to be exact. 

Right through the front door.  My whiskers curled on sight.  I ran to the door and tried to beat it down.  But no one paid me any attention.  Instead all attention was on the alien life forms that now stood in our living room. 

I hid.

And waited for them to leave.

But it didn’t happen.  They stayed.  Big mistake on “her” part.  Too much niceness and hospitality.  And to  alien life forms no less.  “She” doesn’t feed me as well as “she” fed them.  So they stayed.

AND spent the night. 

By now my whiskers are having seizures and starting to bend  into poodle curls.

Finally they go to bed.  I plead and beg with “her” to open the door so that I may escape.  I promise to return with help.  The nearest Army Reserve, National Guard or even the Peace Corps – whoever I can find first. 
I’ll give them the address. 

And then I will continue on my way.

In the opposite direction.

But my plan is transparent to “her”.  I am told that I am not allowed outside because “she” fears I might not return until they leave.  Like DUH?!?  I may not have been quick enough to take heed of the signs nor quick enough to get out the door when the doorbell siren went off; but by gosh I am not going to be stupid no more.  No way!   Open the door and I am gone and no, I will NOT come back.  Not until the alien life forms are gone.

I look up.  “She” has walked away and the door stays closed.  And locked.

Day two hundred eighty-five.  They are still here.  The doors are still locked.  And “she” continues to feed them.  My whiskers remained curled into a permanent poodle pattern.  Oh the horror!  What will my friends Kramer and Charlie say?

They have installed a radar swing in the backyard.  I am sure they are sending communications home or to their mother ship.

Day three thousand forty-six.  They are still here.  The doors remained locked. Will they never leave?!  I think I smell smoke – it’s my whiskers….or maybe my tail.  I can no longer tell.  My senses have become dulled hiding here behind the sofa.

It is 2 p.m., day three thousand forty-six.  They are packing up their ray guns, ammunition, and power packs toys, baby food, and suitcases.  Could it finally have ended?  Did “she” finally run out of food??!

2:30 p.m., day three thousand forty-six.  I activate defense shields come out from behind the sofa as they exit the house.

I watch as they leave.  I wait by the window for hours.

They do not return.  The aliens have left and my life is back to normal.

However, I am not sure where they were headed. They will say they are relatives - while here they used "Grandson", "Son" and "Daughter-in-law".  They may use another alias at another location. So beware.  Watch for the signs, heed the sirens – run for your life and find cover.  Your house may be next.