Some ice cream for energy

Yes, ice cream for energy. Some coffee for stamina. Some water for hydration. And hearing aides for comprehension.

I've been busy all day. After breakfast and the obligatory cat corner clean up, I emptied all the waste baskets. I cannot believe how many there are in a studio apartment that has not been cleaned in three weeks and won't be for another week. This housekeeping situation is dire. What with Diana out sick a week and every housekeeper Robin hires not showing up or quitting after a day or two, we may never see clean beds.

All the wastebaskets were loaded and I've just kept stuffing them. I emptied one under the desk, one under the kitchen sink, one under the loom, one under the sewing machine and the bathroom wastebasket. There is a tall waste bag for housekeeping to take away tonight.

I wove a couple of bobbins of scarlet. It's nice, and I like it. Beth stopped by yesterday and brought in the incidentals from my car. I drove the Subaru so little, it's as if nothing in there belonged to me, when of course it did. She brought in the handicap placard and the I-Pass transponder.  The former stays with me and the latter goes back to I-Pass, by registered mail and wrapped in foil. OK, not a problem.

Then there is Grandma Rolf's vase. The one she made in 8th grade, whereupon she quit school. Kitty gets quite antsy in the morning, urging me to hurry, hurry. She really has not grown accustomed to my speed. It is slow, and I eat my breakfast before I move on to her needs. One morning Kitty slid the vase right off the shelf. A handle broke.

At dinner that night, when someone asked about Kitty, I reported her transgression. "What will you do?" was the immediate question, and I replied that it now was one less thing to find someone to be responsible for. On the other hand, I probably can mend it.

It has been months since I reported on the construction of new units beyond my window.

The building progresses steadily. The roof construction arrived as pre-assembled angles. I think they used all of them to build the roof over elevator and the unit behind it. I wonder what they will use as they progress.

Short report on weaving

I just finished the Periwinkle towels and put them up on the web for sale: Everything Old is New Again. I've been almost a month getting these twelve towels woven and finished!

The next batch of towels will be red of some sort. I can't tell yet if this is scarlet or cerise. I'll ask my sister, or a granddaughter when I next see someone. In the meantime, I'll just weave.

I must tell you something that never really crossed my mind. It's about cats and looms. They go way back with me, all the way to Scotty sleeping on the rugs in the studio. All my cats have blended with the weaving, rather than bothering it. Kitty has not put herself to the test--yet. May she never!

Some warp adjustments and I'll be ready to weave when the red bobbins are wound! That will be tomorrow, definitely before noon.

Two granddaughter weekend

I saw Caroline over the weekend. She dropped by bearing gifts in the shape of vegetarian protein drinks "you might like", and with hints on making them more palatable. For example, "you can put them in the freezer for a while, then shake them vigorously and the drink is like a slushy." I last had a slushy thirty odd years ago and don't imagine the flavor has improved since then.

However, I did take advantage of the opportunity to bestow her high school graduation present--two years late.

I borrowed this picture from the internet; of course I neglected to take a picture of Caroline's set of four tumblers. My friend Deb Bures makes these. Bures Pottery.

Kitty, of course, made no appearance. She did stare back at Caroline from her refuge, behind the storage units on the shelves.

Laura stopped today for a chat. I haven't seen her since last September, almost a year ago. She is through another year in school and is happy to have passed everything. Next hear she will spend the first semester in Greece, specifically Athens.

The second semester will be in Australia. That I knew of. When I asked why Australia she replied "They speak English!" Actually, it's mind boggling, her going so blithely from  continent to continent to continent, with a side trip to Chicago to apply for the visa to Greece.

We were talking of the museums in Chicago and she said the only one she has looked into so far is the Museum of Illusions (something like that!). She has about a month at the end of the semester in Greece. She will travel around Europe until it's time to leave for Melbourne, Australia. That's as much as I know.

Kitty's no good, bad, terribly horrid day

I wrote the title of today's blog yesterday evening, before I even began  to read the blogs. In the event Kitty was her old self today, I certainly would need some reminder. 

Caroline is home for the summer. She applied for and got the job at Case Western Reserve. She will merge into an ongoing project, counting the food deserts in established areas and analyzing the changes, up or down. That is my best core dump, don't ask me any more. It may be top secret.

Kitty and Caroline are firm friends, I thought. Caroline visited once last year, before she returned to Minnesota, for college last year. Caroline easily enticed Kitty from a secret hiding place last year, then observed she needed her nails trimmed and did it. Afterward Kitty accepted some treats from Caroline and then went away for an afternoon nap.

Assuming they remained on the same footing, Caroline approached the usual spot to find Kitty, after the front door had been open. The shelf in the closet.

But it wasn't a happy kitty to be found on the shelf in the closet. Almost before Caroline could begin speaking, Kitty darted from the closet, from the room and was behind the shipping room shelving. Caroline and I left her own devices and went downstairs to the Bistro, for some lunch.

On returning we did not find Kitty behind the shelving or back in the closet. We did see she made a mad dash for a new hiding place access in my bed, and missed.

She generally goes under the bed and comes up where the bed meets the corner. I was amused at her crazy mad dash to hide and saw that the usual entrance to that corner is still in use, though Kitty is not under the comforter today. The new hiding spot remains a secret.

Kitty is back on speaking terms with me today. Well, at least we can be in the same room.

   

Too much going on

I know I'm still recovering from all that anesthesia to both place the pacemaker and then surgery to repair the lung puncture. I'm still sleeping a lot! I've caught myself dozing off and waking up an hour later. I was informed at the Heart Failure Clinic (I love typing that ominous name) that I must stay on top of the edema and leg elevation is the best and easiest method to address that.

Unfortunately, I can do nothing productive with elevated legs except sleep, so sleep it is. Once I awoke in my recliner (with legs elevated) and saw Kitty stretched out on the sofa, an arm's length away, staring at me. So Kitty does use the furniture, and I've found her out.

I decided to use her paws down favorite liver treat to entice her to come up on the sofa...with me. We are into serious shoulder skritches, and it's time to up the ante. I can only approach her while she is eating treats, and she asks for vigorous shoulder rubs. First one, then the other, then both together. When she's had enough, I get a swat from extended claws. She's never hurt me, but her intent is obvious. Enough. I wish I understood her background.

So the liver treats are kept in the corner of the sofa, and I've tried tempting her to jump up and share the sofa with me and enjoy some liver treats. So far, no luck. She puts her front paws on the sofa, but she cannot reach the treats and she cannot pull the trigger and jump up. One of these days it will happen. Then maybe we can watch the TV together.

I have a small TV, about 15" on the diagonal. It's also about thirty years old. I use it for Netflix and the like, though gentlemen callers to the apartment would like to show me how to use it to watch regular TV. Due to the age of the set, this involves manipulations I do not care to repeat properly to switch back to Netflix, etal. 

The TV sits on a small chest, on a quilted mat one of our temporary sewers made, years and years ago. The other morning I got up, and was astounded I had slept through the crash of the TV hitting the floor! There it was, flat on its face, on the floor. The remotes were scattered about. Kitty appeared at the sound of the treat can rattle. At least she was not flat as the Roadrunner, and under the TV. I lifted it back onto the chest and plugged in the power cord and the Roku cord. The red light fired obediently up. I have not yet tried to turn it on.