Icing On The Cake, So To Speak.

Persephone, the largely ineffective home-security cat, is truly the sweetest of beings. She is a rescued feline, having been found in a trailer along with 29 or so other cats. Someone, somewhere did seem to make an effort to care for her as she had been spayed. But it also seems that she suffered a significant blow to the head at some point as well. Despite, (or perhaps because of), this her only desire in this world is to be loved, held, snuggled and petted. She will tolerate pretty much anything save foot touching and having her tummy exposed.

Given her history, it is something of a mystery to me why she is so darned fussy about the litter box. Me 'n Desdemona are not what you would call great housekeepers. We both have a remarkable tolerance for messiness-within-reason. The box is a priority, but we don't lose our minds over it.

Not so with my youngest child.

I honestly hadn't planned on spending the better part of my day yesterday fooling with a little postcard layout and attempting to make four simple changes that required a doctorate in computer science to achieve. By the time I made it back to hearth and home, I was a bit frazzled and out of sorts...I guess a certain box 'o poo slipped my mind.

I suppose it shouldn't have come as a total surprise when, during the horrifying turn of events on Project Runway, I noted a certain level of Kitty Distress. Desdemona was racing back and forth between the "box zone" and the couch in a gleeful effort to attract my attention to something. Persephone was hanging her head and refusing to meet my eye.

I took a moment to steel my nerves for what I suspected lay ahead. Desdemona developed the ability to grin in full defiance of the fact that felines lack the necessary muscle structure to do so and Persephone made haste to the box in a futile bid to hide the evidence.

I rounded the corner to find her frantically rearranging six grains of litter that had escaped the box over her "floor deposit," looking for all the world like The Sheep circa 1972 trying to disguise the green beans she'd neglected to eat at dinner. It was sort of hard to be mad...

A fitting end to the day, I must say.

Today has been pretty quiet. I opted to stay away from the office for fear that I might be on the receiving end of more "helpful" suggestions with regard to the layout of the postcard from hell. All calls are being screened, lemme tellya! But I wasn't avoiding the postman! No, sirree!! Lookee what The Sheep scored through a recent de-stashing:

EuroFlax!!!

And it was free!!! Free, I tells ya! I did pay the postage, and a bit extra for the handling, but I figure ten bucks is a small price to pay for scads of flaxy goodness. I've been wanting to try prepared flax for a while now and this seemed like a good opportunity. If all goes well, I plan to go all Mason/Dixon on this stuff. And if all goes badly...well, it's not like a fortune was spent here.

And we also have coverage for one hoof:

One foot, blue foot, where's the two foot?

Well, it's underway. This is a pretty quick-knit, down 'n dirty sock pattern so I might actually manage to have an FO to add to the list before the end of summer break. I hate to jinx it so we'll just plan on having it done for Thanksgiving or something.

I've learned my lesson this week with regard to things that have been labeled, "simple."

SA