Things and Stuff

 One of my newly revisited favorite lounge spots in our place is the low window sill up in the extra bedroom.

When we first moved here, I enjoyed watching the world go by from on high but lost interest when the plastic went up last winter. The sill is only a few inches off the floor and is nice and wide so I can sprawl out leisurely. Plus, I get to spy on all the activity outside.

As you can see, Miss Ellen's nip mat gets a good workout, too. In case some of you are wondering or don't remember from old posts many moons ago, the sarcophagus is the final resting place for Angels Isaac, Orbit, Cleopatra and wee Grayson.

Downstairs, the sliders offer a different view of the great outdoors.

Here's where I saw my little hippety hoppety friend a few posts ago, and where I'm often found sprawled out when dad wakes up at idiot o'clock when it's still dark out but my silhouette is highlighted by a neighbor's obnoxious 24/7 patio light.

So there you have it. I'll bet your day feels more complete now that your brain's filled with all this fascinating good-to-know stuff. See ya.

Guest Post

 I guess I may be getting better about sharing in my old age. Or, dad wanted to post this and said I had no say in the matter. So one of his kids sent him this photo of her floofy feline, Bean, or Spicy Black Bean Burger. 

Sure seems like a mouthful when it comes to calling for dinner and whatnot. Unique name, sure, but I'm okay with my one-syllable moniker. Say, Bean must be related to dad- looking at this up close, those tufts sticking out from between her toes look an awful lot like dad's toes. And ears. And back. 

Rhyme Time with ol' Bonehead Dad

 Oh dear, here he goes again. Bear with me, folks- I have to live with him, so this should be painless for you.

An Assemblage of Legs

a very brief poem by dad

An assemblage of chair legs, 

and some table ones, too,

I'll give you one guess

who those others belong to.

Thank you very much. Please hold the applause.

Aww, come on, Smudge. I thought it was pretty good for being cooked up so quick.

Ooooh, I know- maybe I'll take a stab at a sonnet next.

Ahhh, feel the love...