Floof

In the midst of our Hurricane of Doom preparations, I've managed to take some cute pictures of the cats. Who's surprised?

Sophie spends a lot of time on the little chair throne next to me in the living room. When she's not in my lap, I mean.

 

These pictures of Augustine were actually taken on two different days. He loves the printer box now that it's been toppled onto its side. Sophie won't go near the thing, though. She prefers it upright.

Our cats are kind of weird.

I put two more wide but short boxes down side-by-side in the living room, and the cats are beside themselves with happiness. Sophie will nap in one for a few hours, stand up, streeeetch, hop into the other, curl up, and nap for a few hours. Repeat this until dinner time. After dinner she moves to the bed. Hard life!

It's especially hard when Augustine has the audacity to claim the other box, forcing Sophie to try to salvage her ruined napping cycle by (gasp!) finding another comfy spot. (Not the printer box in the bedroom, though! It's on its side, not upright! Horror of horrors.)

I finally took some pictures of the little . . . shed-like thing that perches on the roof of the apartment complex directly behind our house. It's visible from our bathroom and one of our bedroom windows. I've been fascinated by it since we moved in; it looks like some deserted shed, but clearly is just the stairwell up onto the roof. Its door (which has paint visibly peeling off of it) never fully closes or locks, so on windy days it swings open and bumps closed.

It made me think of Skellig, to be honest. If I climbed onto the roof and poked my head in the broken door, there'd be an ancient man with wings lying under piles of junk who'd hint that I should run down to Haruki East and pick up a maki roll special. Or something.

The shed-thing is creepy, but I kind of love it.