Since I've been doing little but coding lately, I thought I'd offer up a photo that has absolutely nothing to do with coding and everything to do with what really matters in this house—the cats. After all, you can't have 'domesticat' without the 'cat.' (Those perverse ones among you who sat up and said, "But you can't have 'domesticat' without an 'omesti'! Where's the picture of the omesti?"—you are not tall enough to ride this ride. Go away; you're bothering me.)

Right. So. Where was I? Oh, yes, cute kitty pictures. See, I talk all the time about how the cats have Invisible Feline Fencing around me. Humans can't see it, but spray-painted all over this fencing are phrases (in High Feline) like these:

"Mine!"
"Back off!"
"Rowr!
"Fffft!"
"Violaters will be summarily sat upon!"
"—by EDMUND!"

Given that the boys have been surrounded by books since they were six weeks old, they've been forced to learn to adapt. Books, previously considered distractions (and therefore subject to the feline fence rule) are now seen for the potentially wonderful things they are.

After several years of intense training, both cats have learned the tricky art of sleeping on the treacherous surface of paper, as well as the more difficult feat of allowing a book to be extricated from underneath them without actually moving.

The cats' skills are not limited to just paper; given the right angle of light (not to mention angle of book), Edmund has perfected the art of sleeping peacefully on the book you were attempting to read. From the feline point of view, why sleep somewhere else when you can sleep somewhere that guarantees you'll get attention?

With that, I present pictorial evidence of what happens anytime I attempt to read in this house. Is it any wonder they hate my working on Quarto? Every moment I spend working on code is a moment they don't get to spend like this.

Tenzing is on your left, if you can't tell them apart. (Note beatific, triumphant smile on Edmund's face. This is a kitty that knows he rules his universe.)

They never change positions; Tenzing is always, always, always curled up on the backs of my knees, and Edmund goes straight for the arms.

It's hard work being this wretched, really, it is.