#1 - friendly URLs at last!

I've added my own version of friendly URLs to this site. All old links to the site should work, but from now on, links should be a little easier to remember.

New version: http://domesticat.net/node/1021

Similar changes have been made to category and user links, but I won't bore you with those. If you find any pages whose links don't work properly, let me know, and I'll patch things appropriately.

"Nope. Forty-five inches." He shrugged, folded the fabric neatly back onto the bolt, and handed it to me. Ok, I thought. So my dress won't be emerald green. I took the bolt from him and wandered back to the 'luxury fabrics' section of the store with a sinking feeling. I compared the width to the red and blue velvets I liked. They, too, were 45" widths. I grumbled (audibly) and mentally scratched options 2 and 3 off the list.

It is a braless, serene Sunday, with all the men in my life dozing in different corners of the house. Tenzing has found a comfortable, shady spot in the reading room; Jeff is belly-down, snores-up in the master bedroom; and Edmund, having despaired of actually being helpful to me, has bathed himself to sleep on top of the guest bed, cheerfully dousing the dark green comforter with loose bits of off-white belly fur.

Edmund may not have been the brightest kitty in his litter, but he knows, with the intrinsic absolutism of feline knowledge, that my setting up the ironing board and scattering sewing implements on the bed means that I will, without a doubt, return.All he has to do is lie on top of the fabric and wait.

As soon as the dryer finishes drying the rest of the fabric I bought, I'll begin.

"Okay. Now it's time to head into the computer room and play the ever-popular game of 'How Many Blinky Lights Are There?' You have a guess?"
— Amy

Wow, takeover and domination of two different sites in less than 24 hours. Was it my birthday and someone forgot to tell me?

But seriously, folks. This is Chris, better known as Duckie to some of you, here to let you know that our beloved domesticat has been having what she likes to call a "rubber-ball modem" for the better part of the past week. In other words, little to no net access, hence the lack of posting here on cat.net and such. To assuage the multitude of rumors I've been hearing, allow me to set the record straight:

1. Dead? Nope.
2. Ran off and joined the circus? Sorry.
3. Become a nun? Ha!

What, you don't believe the entry title? Silly you. I can't imagine why, what with my propensity for choosing arcane and random titles for my entries over the past three years. Nevertheless, let me reassure you; indeed, I speak truth, for tonight I created the technicolor feline pajamas of doom.

Well, okay, actually they're just technicolor feline flannel pajamas. Adam added the "(of doom)."

Three a.m. found me outside, talking quietly into a cell phone while the cicadas traded stories with the crickets about the end of summer. Beneath me, the concrete gathered chill from the still, silent air, as clouds played peekaboo with a gibbous moon.