Bulbs and cats and cat trees

My mother always referred to a busy day with a lot accomplished as "breaking eggs with a stick".  I think we did.

But first, many mornings, before the alarm to wake me, I am still treated to the sound of a cat thundering from the far end of the trailer, landing on the bed and walking over my shoulder to get behind the curtain.

I know what he's looking at, but today it all came together for a picture:

She knows Toby is here, but I've never seen her cast a glance.

Yesterday I cleaned out the pots, and today, at the appointed hour, my sister and her husband came. Jan and I sorted the bulbs by depth and pot, and we left Tom to the cat tree and went out.

The anemones called for a three hour soaking before planting. Right! I ignored that at the old house, too, and I had beautiful anemones for several years. They still are there; I'm not. We did work a lot of fertilizer into the soil.

Jan soaked every pot with a bucket of water, and watered the mandevillas for good measure. I came in to see how Tom fared.

The cat tree was in good hands, so I busied myself with cleaning up and breaking boxes down, until it was time to test the result.

Yes, it is the cat tree he always dreamed of, apparently. So after lunch I moved on to the studio.

I hemmed another half dozen towels, which also involved re-threading one thread path of the serger because an effing factory knot jammed on the way through. Grrrrrr... I should not be an expert serger threader because some factory thinks it's OK to knot ends together.

I finished the day with a few bobbins of emerald green, had supper, and here I am in my fabulous office chair.