I, Mac

[desperance]

Y'know, it's astonishing just how grubby-looking a tabby cat can leave a clean black shirt.

*sighs*

*changes his shirt*

In other cat-related newses of cleanliness: Barry got his ears washed yesterday morning. For about two minutes, until he was awake enough to realise what was happening. Then he was all get-off-me-get-off-me-get-off-me! and we were back to business as usual. But still. Physical contact that wasn't bitey. It looked like progress to me.

Also, further to our theme: because I am engaged in a hopeless struggle against the relentless entropy that is my life, I cleared and cleaned one of the kitchen counters yesterday. This meant that when I came home with a big piece of brisket today, I could break out the little slow cooker and make pot-roast.

Of course, it also meant that there was much beefy-smelling goodness in the kitchen, and two attracted cats; and the thing about slow cookers is that you turn them on and leave them. If you leave them on recently-cleared surfaces, there's room for attracted cats to be more closely attracted in your absence. The other thing about slow cookers, they get very hot. They have warnings to say so, printed on their sides.

Cats can't read. I have a wholly intact piece of beef, and two cats who keep pawing at their poor singed noses.

*does not snigger, oh no, not at all*

Comments

Re: Reflections on the cosmic implications of housework

[desperance.livejournal.com]

I knew it as I wrote it: redundancy all round. That's what housework is. I just thought it deserved a special mention because mostly I don't bother, I quit struggling, I let myself float away on the entropic tide and the house disintegrates around me.

Sometimes - occasionally! today! - I resist. And celebrate, with a superfluity of wordage.