cats

It was one of those Clean ALL The Things weekends. (If you've never read the comic that inspired that statement, stop now, go read it, and then come back here.)

After a bench scraper, lots of bleach, elbow grease, and the passage of time, my kitchen is no longer a disaster zone. I had to resist the urge to lie on my countertops, to attempt to cuddle with them.

• Spiced peach butter is in progress. (Currently too much cinnamon. I think it needs more peach.)
• A large quantity — some would say "a mess of" — hot and bell peppers have been purchased, for hot pepper jelly.
• A vat of Jody's black-bean-and-corn salsa was made.

Tenzing's opinion of the weekend is obvious:

I mentioned recently that I'd been holding off on Adam and Brenda's quilt until I had my skills up, and that it was time to get started, because I had the skills. I picked up the very soothing English paper piecing, and the last thing left to do was master foundation piecing. If that last sentence didn't make any sense to you, the short version is that if I take my intended finished block design, break it into component parts, and print it onto some easy-to-tear paper, I can use the paper as a direct template to sew complicated patterns with dead-on accuracy.

This is a more natural-color version of the smallest, lightest star. The edges are rough because they'll be appliquéd under, later, and don't need to be perfect now:

We are back home from another round of vet visits. Last night, I wasn't sure if I needed to take Tenzing to the vet again, but this morning, after a rough night for everyone concerned, I was sure. He's normally grateful when I (finally!) go to bed each night, and sleeps contentedly on my knees, but last night was different. Through the night last night, he woke me every 1.5 - 2 hours, needing to be held and comforted.

This wasn't Tenzing.

I called the vet at 7am, right when they opened, and they agreed to set up an appointment for him at 11:30. I offered to bring him by two hours earlier so we could get him situated in a kennel with special litter, to try to get a urine sample for him.

I got a call about an hour later: "We need to run more tests." I agreed to the cost. It was comforting to know that my spidey-sense wasn't haywire; something was really wrong.

I make constant snark about Tenzing, but I couldn't say "free to good home" and mean it. We are companionable, he and I. We spend a great deal of time annoying each other, as these photos attest:

Fair warning, it's not all that great of a video, and as an extra bonus you get to hear the froggy goofy Morning Voice, but this is what Mr. Bitey is like when it's just me. If this is what he's like after I had time to fumble out the cell phone camera and turn it on, you can imagine the amount of silly air biscuit goodness you missed prior to the video.

I present Edmund's nonverbal, but very clear, instructions to Jeff: