It is what it is; we are what we are

Stephen Colbert said last night, concluding his monologue, "Donald Trump isn't committing a crime, Donald Trump is a crime." The sun is shining today, the world is relatively good, and so you see how I drifted into a post title.

What do I have to talk about? Almost nothing. Have you read the news this morning? But, it's out of our control. It's like the Yellowstone geyser. When will it blow, not if.

So, here in my little corner of Boston Township, USA, my goodness, you all sure do like the red that I already decided will be the only red I will use in future. 

My new weaving career began with towels I intended to give away. I bought and wove several colors, including a red that appealed--on my computer's screen.

It was a screeching color, and I will not confess where the first towels are now. My new red is called, by the red namer, cerese. It makes me wonder if there are vials named red, green and blue locked up somewhere, like a meter and a kilogram are perfect, precise, and locked away.

I don't see my cat first thing in the morning. Sometimes I hear Laura leave at 6:30. That's nice; I turn over and go back to sleep until 8:00. I get up, fill Toby's food and water, clean his cat box, and then take care of my breakfast. 

Mr. Cat may appear by then, or I go looking. It's so big here! I look on the sofa. Then I look in the studio. Studio it was today, as it has been most of the winter, on the bench, by the register.

That's the next color, down there on the floor, periwinkle. I assure you, there is no standard periwinkle locked in a vault, but this is a nice rendition. I'm also amused at this little scenario.

The box of bobbins originated about where Toby's back end is on my bench. That means he pushed them far enough along to jump on, then pushed the rest of the way off. Any further retribution he considered, for being on his bench, seemed to be put off until this morning. Now it's 1:30 p.m., and his morning has yet to commence. The bobbins are cleared away and put where they really belong.

And finally, here is where I live now:

Laura has the master, the living room has a sofa and two chairs. Bedroom #2 has the loom, Bedroom #3 has me.  It was fine for three people, or two and a loom. But for one, come this June, way too much. 

The final choice of floor plans isn't in yet, but one bedroom units are pretty much the same. Living room, kitchen, laundry room, bathroom, bedroom. So I downloaded a typical plan:

Pretty close to perfect, don't you think! And going on half as much. Mr. Cat and I will be in pig heaven. I'll pass on the cottage garden, but all the shabby garden concrete decorations will come, and all the spiffy ones, too.