Randomosity in the midst of a move

So even though I’ve been moving in for over a month now, and I don’t actually own all that much stuff, I am still naturally trying to get settled in. Because that’s how I roll. Projects are in disarray. So are possessions in general. So are cats. My cats are on day 3 of the Togetherness phase of their acquaintance. Four times in the last half hour the big one has jumped up onto the armchair with me — the only really comfortable chair in the apartment — and been dismayed to find that I still have the kitten sitting on my lap.

YOU AGAIN, I can just feel her thinking. The first couple of times she let out the cat equivalent of a shriek and beaned the kitten in the face a couple times with her freshly clipped paws. The third time she just let out an insulted, high-pitched meow and then crawled onto the adjacent coffee table. As I’m typing this, she has freshly jumped up onto the armchair again, didn’t even spare a glance at the kitten, and sat on the back of the armchair for a while as I waited for her to assault the kitten and, in the process, me. The fifth time, she sat on the left side for a minute and looked at the kitten, then leaned forward like she was going to sniff her but changed her mind and swatted her on the nose again.

So anyway, some pictures from the last few days. First things first. How are the cats?

Well, they’re adorable, as always.

Little kitten, freed from her spare bedroom.

I have been doing crafty things. Like making an earring holder thing.

Orange sticky tack Mary and Jesus (I had a cool feather headpiece for her once upon a time), and the bad watercolor apparently dating to 1966, the piece that was in the frame that I converted to an earring holder, the real motivation behind the purchase of this particular painting, which I felt too bad to reveal to the cashier at the thrift store, who proclaimed the painting neat. But maybe she was just being polite.

Baking colored-on porcelain dresser knobs, one of about eighty-seven pieces of furniture I am revamping (NOT PICTURED). I didn’t bake them long enough because it started smelling chemical-y. But then the colored-on didn’t really set. I will try to provide some closure to this story at a later date, about whether I was able to bake them further and whether or not the color smeared.

The kitchen window ledges have become a repository for pretty much every item I own that is smaller than about an inch and a half.

An unfocused view out the living room window, at my rickety balcony, and of the stains that are either on the other side of the innermost layer of glass, or on the outside, largely inaccessible outer layer of glass. Really old windows.

Unfocused view the second, at the apparently abandoned and somewhat creepy house across the street.

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