They have put the new windows into the kitchen, making things noticeably brighter all the way into the living room (think Warehouse of the Lost Ark, with some places to sit). They have destroyed the tiny ill-designed bathroom with the unusable shower, and made a passage from the former closet of Doug into the Engine Room, still the home of the washer and dryer (disconnected) and the old fridge (connected)(but part of the point of all this is, pardon my insane desires, to have the fridge in the actual kitchen).
The passage is so whoever lives in those two rooms will be able to go into the new bathroom without passing through the dining area. The bathroom will be carved out of the old bathroom and the engine room, and not have a shower in the first place. The dining area will lose the direct access into the bathroom, depriving the dinner guests of the sounds their hostess makes while... you understand? There is something basically NOT Gracious Living in going direct from the table to the toilet without even an illusion that one is going anywhere else.
The kitchenette in the reformed garage (the one the previous owner built for his aging father, iwhere/in which my mother claims the aging father died to avoid being made to live)is giving me something like a rock-shelter for meal preparation. I am here to tell you it is not suitable for anyone but a barely-cooking warmer-up of things. They say one should sleep once or twice a year in one's guest room to make sure the room is still pleasant; cooking in this place is making me aware that it is barely above hotel mini-bar status. It has burners and a real oven, but there is not enough counter to sustain life or chop onions and eggplant at the same time.
Though the fridge is at least in the same room as the sink and the stove. Very handy.
Doug is not anywhere near moved out, but he is not around much. It is just as well as the house is only somewhat habitable. I hide in the Loom Room and my Bedroom. The number of places I don't usually sit where I can hide from the siege suggests that this place is way too big for me. It is handy at the moment. One of my friends remarked I could probably have a couple of small families living here with me and only see them occasionally.
The cats: Toby is staying with his other mother, who is having trouble adapting to a cat who is adapted to living outside and only slinking inside when Willow* is not around (Probably in Atlantic City). We are hoping he will adapt to a diurnal lifestyle (actually, more 'crepuscular' would be when Ellie will be home). I am hoping not to have an Ellen Moment, but Toby was getting daylights beat out of him and Willow, I am afraid, enjoyed it. I had him locked up with me in the Loom Room for a couple of days, terrified he would get out and I would miss the window of opportunity to have him transported to NJ, and he was darling. Now, of course, I miss him.
Marten got sick of being attacked without provocation and now gives as good as he gets. I yell "Can't we all just get along at them?" which is not terribly effectual of anything. Sometimes they both sleep on my bed at the same time. I don't know what they make of the reconstruction.
I am not getting the most favorable idea of queen kitties. But she is very nice to me.
The Chickens: In April of '06, I think, Doug had seven. This summer neither I nor Doug was around much to close the scoop door at night on the remaining five strikeout four strikeout three, and something traumatic happened to Miss Callendar in there leaving lots of feathers, and Faith refused to go in ever again. Now he and Buffy live in the bush, apparently fairly happy (although Faith, being a rooster and a complete Baftard, is still plucking her feathers from time to time),and we wonder what will happen when the snow comes. No eggs are noted, and none were ever brooded, which makes Faith's satyriasis kind of futile.
There are still a few frogs in the backyard puddle, bless them. And bats in the sky of an evening. And something that sounds like a cuckoo in the background with the goldfinches.
I am working on the strawberry Green Mtn Spinnery sweater in the Manos pattern with Seed Stitch and cables that I was trying to finish during the Winter Olympics, and I have real hopes of finishing it. It seems to make me look long-waisted. I am about 3/4 done with both Philosopher's House Socks that I only started a couple of weeks ago, and I would like to finish them and the sweater before starting to make socks for my parents for Christmas. I did finish spinning the lovely Macintosh by Heather roving I got at the first Fiber Revival, only I bought some lovely Pomegranate by Heather roving at the second Fiber Revival so it was not a net loss of stash.
I am trying to consider seriously embroidering the tea cosy Alice asked me to make that started off a frenzy of embroidery earlier this year. Alice's birthday is September early sometime, maybe 3rd. It could happen.
The Gault shirt is still mired in mud around the water screen illustration. Documentation of which you will look for in vain.
I have a secret project that I can't talk about about but it is using almost as much energy as it is producing in cheeriness and I will let you know when it bears fruit. It is not about a guy, but on the other hand that is usually just as well and you know I won't get any diseases.
The weather is absolutely lovely. I think this makes five days this summer.
I will try to do better.
* Willow might get along well with Dolores, but I don't think she quite has Dolores's sense of style. Willow really should have been named Mehitabel.