Hard to tell from this picture, but that's eight pounds of furry lap blanket.
Warm, furry lap blanket.
Hot, furry lap blanket.
Hot, furry lap blanket with attitude.
Did I mention the temperature outside today? Ninety degrees - in the shade. That makes the temperature inside my studio eighty degrees give or take. While the windows and skylights let in scads of wonderful natural light, they also let in scads of greenhouse heating. And I am not a hothouse flower.
Did I mention that the furry lap blanket was hot?
Of course, the blanket's view isn't much better.
(OK, I don't ever want to hear from any of you people about any lack of courage on my part. I may be a pacifist, but anyone who puts this unflattering a picture of themselves into internet circulation is no wimp! I look better than that - Honestly! would I lie to you?)
I know we have limited control over our environment, but I swear, when I was little and people asked me, "What do you want to be when you grow up, little girl?" kitty barcalounger was not on the list.
OK, time for some eye candy. After all, it IS Friday.
This is the color wheel, according to Debbie. I've been
Speaking of pretty no, this is Ol' Mothy ( as I've taken to calling her, but always said in an affectionate tone of voice. It's an endearment, not name-calling.)
She is three rows from completion. So what am I doing here with you folks? Why aren't I finishing what I started? Because I feel an obligation to you, gentle readers (all seven of you.) I promised to write daily - I write daily. Except for Sunday, because that's the day of rest. Hey! If it's good enough for God, it's good enough for me.
I know Mothy looks like a crumpled mess right now, but she'll look a lot better after her bath and some therapeutic stretching. Will try to get pics up tomorrow, Monday at the latest.
Pippin finally gave me belly, sort of. (Cat porn has been all over the net. Don't ask me why.) And I didn't even have to
Uh oh! I think he's insulted. He's giving me the cold
Hell hath no fury like a cat scorned.