And the rain it raineth two days in consecution

A terrible, dreadful, appalling thing is happening outside the house. It's so awful, the boys don't even want to look at it. No curtains need be drawn, no windows opened.

Wetness! Brrr!

We are hunkering down for a hard, hard season. Barry is Occupying Laundry, as is his duty and his right. Mac is flitting upsettedly from basking-spot to basking-spot, finding nothing to bask in and hence no purpose to life. He is a philosopher-cat, and may just have discovered existentialism.

Myself, I propose to read someone else's proofs, and contemplate the notion of a savoury turkey crumble for dinner (for this is post-Thanksgiving, and by statute everything that issueth from the kitchen must contain turkey; yesterday's turkey chile verde was actually rather good, and likewise the beans cooked down in turkey-broth and the cauliflower soup ditto ditto). I was thinking I might use the olive bread as a basis for the crust. Is this even possible? Has it ever been done...?

Closeted. With added cat.

The first step in sorting out the chaos that is my room? Lay in the closet, naturally.

The first step in sorting out the chaos that was my closet? Lay in removing everything and adding it to the chaos of the room. Also naturally.

Mac helped:



and helped again:



and helped again:



and helped again:



(And actually more times that I didn't get to photograph, on account of hands full and cat-in-the-way. Repeatedly.)