Monday, June 10, 2013

Running Errands

An orange cat sitting in a blue pet stroller.
Friday was a day for running errands. Of course I brought Loiosh -- he has a stroller now, after all!
I couldn't bring him into the first place I stopped (the post office) and decided to leave him in the car for the second stop, too -- fortunately it was cool and quite rainy, so the only thing I risked was him hollering at me for leaving him in the car (he's got a point, I have to admit).

The second stop was County Line Nursery, one of two shops in southeastern PA that carries my stuff. I wanted to check on their inventory (they still have plenty, though I got a very nice consignment check from them) and to take some pictures of my products in their shop for the wholesale page. Alas, my camera was acting up and I didn't get any while I was there.

It was working by the time I got to Java Good Day Cafe, though, and I got some nice pictures, and also stocked her up on soap and lip balms (since she'd sold out AGAIN).

tubes of lip balm in a display
Not that I object to this, mind you. I'm pretty fond of it, actually. I left her with twice as many tubes of lip balm as last time, and I'm entirely prepared to do that again pretty soon.

I had lunch there, too -- I almost never eat out, but I can't resist at the cafe, and since I've usually got a pocketful of cash from sales I figure I might as well treat myself a little. This time I had an egg salad sandwich -- no celery, which I hate -- it had chopped-up roasted red peppers instead, and oh my GODS was that tasty. On a lovely buttery croissant, which did result in a certain amount of egg salad on the plate, but that's the risk you take and I was perfectly willing to scoop up the last little bits with the spoon from my (also delightful) hot chocolate.

Lest this turn into a restaurant review (not an actual risk, as I haven't got the patience), let's get back to our roots: it really is all about the cat.

He took a bit of a wander around the shop...

an orange cat standing on a couch, wearing a leash


(Courtesy of Ann, the proprietor, who hung onto his leash for me while I poked at my intermittently-cooperating camera...)

he's still on the couch, but now you can see the woman holding his leash


...but spent most of the visit comfortably ensconced in his stroller.


And now he's back in his stroller.


He's really very fond of the thing, and that makes me a very happy catmomma.

Friday, June 7, 2013

They see me strollin'...

A orange cat, lying at his ease in a pet stroller; the image has the text 'The see me strollin'; they hatin''.


...yes, it's also been done by everyone else with a cat in a stroller. I still had to. HAD TO DO YOU HEAR ME. I WAS REQUIRED.

I'd been following the blog linked above -- which belongs to a purebred, leash-trained, stroller-ridin' Abyssinian named Pellburn Jacoby Stealin' Home and his person -- for a while, and thinking vaguely that a stroller might make sense for Loiosh, especially when he gets tired and doesn't want to walk, or it's hot, or...all kinds of things, really. Wasn't sure if he'd go for the idea, didn't see a way to find out short of buying one and hoping, put the idea on a back burner and figured I'd deal with it later.

We went into the local pet food place a week or so ago to buy more of Chocolate's special grain-free hypoallergenic food (the things I do for my cats, but he breaks out something awful otherwise) and right up front is a pair of pet strollers. So naturally I immediately stuck Loiosh in one of them.

He wasn't entirely sure at first -- I zipped it closed; otherwise he'd've jumped right back out -- but after I pushed him around the store for a while, he decided it was Just Fine. It especially helped when the store dog came over and Loiosh realized that hey, he was taller than the dog! And also was driving a tank!

So this was obviously something I was going to have to buy for him. Equally obviously it was going to have to wait a bit; the RV still comes first, and since pet strollers average around $120 new, that would've been a substantial chunk of change.

Until I saw one on Craigslist yesterday for $20, and promptly drove down to Center City to buy it.

The immediate reaction was...unexpected.

Now there are two cats in the stroller. The black one looks puzzled.


Loiosh did eventually climb in, but it took him a while, and Chocolate (my shy boy, Mr. Camping What Are You Serious, my grumpy old man cat) spent much more time in it than Loiosh did.

He is NOT okay with the stroller moving while he's in it, though, so taking Chocolate out for a stroll in the thing might be a long time coming.

Loiosh, on the other hand? Yeah, just like with anything else new. He loves it.

We went out for our first walk today.


Same orange cat, same stroller, rollin down the trail.

He rode in it for a while, but then he got bored.

And now he's jumping out of the thing.


We walked for a bit. He had cranky ears for a while -- I think the sound of the stroller rolling along with us annoyed him -- but he got used to it.



He's standing on the edge of the trail, trying to pull me into the poison ivy.

Standing next to a building, probably smelling something, because he's a cat.


It started raining, though, and he realized an important thing -- the stroller has a roof!

The same as the top image, but without the text -- and yes, the stroller has a roof.


It was a short trip, but I think he's gonna wind up really liking the thing. It pushes pretty easily on pavement -- not so much in the (fairly tall) grass at the park, but in short grass on level-ish ground I think it'll do okay. It really increases our walking range (cats are built for speed, not endurance) and it'll make it much easier to take him out when it's warm and sunny and all he wants to do is lie in the shade.

I'm really hoping to get Chocolate used to it, too -- as it is, even though he's actually pretty okay about the leash these days, I can't take him out, because of his flea allergy. But if he's in the stroller and off the ground, he should be pretty safe from them. And once we're all living in the RV, there will be times I need to take Chocolate places along with me and Loiosh, if only because sometimes it'll just get too hot in the RV...

Monday, June 3, 2013

A project

I haven't done a project log in aaaaaages...partly because I haven't blogged in ages, but that's just what life has been like and more about that later.

I was expecting that late spring and early summer would be event after event, just like last year. This...has not been the case. There are fewer events to go to than usual (I blame the economy), I haven't wanted to stray far from home (my car is getting pretty iffy), and on top of everything else I had two events in a row cancelled out from under me. One of them being a pretty big one, over Memorial Day weekend.

So there I was, all caught up on production, everything else under control, all ready for the big event...and instead I had four days all to myself, with nothing hanging fire on the todo list.

I'll admit I thought about just taking the damn weekend off and doing a whole lot of napping. (I did, in fact, take a couple of naps; they're rarely a bad idea.) But I've a whole long list of changes and upgrades I'd like to make to my booth, and I thought, well, unexpected time, let's do this.

So I did.


The original plans, drawn up in Corel Draw.
Once I knew what I was doing, though, all I needed was the sketch.
Making sure my notches work.

Sanding and sanding and sanding…

All of the pieces…

…come together to make a whole.

I found the perfect purple on the ‘oops’ shelf at Home Despot.

Voila!

The lip balms fit perfectly…

…and the colours go really well together too.

In its natural habitat!

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Home to Eisental

So it's been a bazillion years since I've actually blogged, so here's something I wrote up last summer and then got...distracted. Eight months later I'm flailing at my long-abandoned blog and came across this in draft form, and then bawled my eyes out rereading the thing, so here it is in (almost) virginal form.

To jump ahead in the story, as well I ought, since it's now March?

I wasn't afraid.

For the first time ever on that site -- the first time ever among those people -- I WASN'T AFRAID.

And that changed everything.




So anyways. The week before the event was teh suck. I had (unsurprisingly) pushed myself the hell too hard, doing so many events in a row, and I was out, I was OUT, brain made of cream cheese and aching body curling in on itself in that 'major depressive incident imminent, abort, abort!' sequence I've gotten to be so familiar with. So I took it the hell easy, read, goofed online, slept LOTS, did really nothing that I didn't ABSOLUTELY have to. And just hoped I could hold it off until I got some time for a real break.

And Friday came, and I hit the wall where I couldn't pretend anymore that this was just another event, just Event #5 Of Eight In A Row What Are You Thinking. This was Eisental, this was home, this was the people I'd left without goodbyes, abandoned, run away from, fled -- the prodigal son returneth, and the bible story is really nice but pretty often the prodigal son returneth to a kick in the ass and a 'and stay out'. And despite knowing these people, despite all my logic and rational mind could say, I still believed one of the last of the many lies I'd heard way back when, and knew I wouldn't be welcomed back.

Which is why I was pretending so hard. Because these people. These people. For all that Caer Galen became home, for all that I miss my wild, city-state, monkey-dancin barony, I'm still from Eisental, Eisenstadt, bad German accents and cannons, a great ape swinging knuckles on the ground and picking things up with my feet.

I missed them terribly, and I wanted to go home, and you know that line.

So I got up and packed up and screwed around and piddled with other things and somehow got on the road when I'd planned to despite my best efforts, and my hands knew how to guide the car to the site, and my feet knew every pothole in the road, and Wicked Girls came on the radio just as I got within sight and finished up just as I was parking, and I knew that it was all gonna be okay.




And somehow it was. I was greeted with hugs and immediate attempts to catch me up on five years' gossip (most of which I handily avoided). I was fed (also hollered at for not telling folks I was hungry). I was invited to enough parties that even if I'd only had half a drink at each, I'd've only made it to half of them. Walking through site, the scent was right, the trees were right, my feet knew every root and ankle-breaking hole in the dark, the story tree drew me within its embrace just as it always had. It was RIGHT, in a way that nowhere else has been right in a long, long time. Too long.

Eisental status mentis est. No matter where I travel now, I know that Eisental is home.

As Caer Galen is home, because Caer Galen status mentis est. I have, it seems, a dual citizenship, and despite East vs. Outlands, barony vs. shire, my two homes have so much in common -- more than just me, and now Loiosh -- that I can comfortably live in both.

It's a good feeling. I haven't had community, true community, since I left Caer Galen, and damn near two years is a long time for even an outcaste nomad like me to be without a pack.

It doesn't make me want to sink my roots here again, mind you. I'm not...a roots-sinking sort of person. But it's a place where I can settle for a bit; it's a perch, a place to stop the wheels from rolling for a time. It's a camp where I'm welcome, a place to pitch my tent.

It's good to be home.

After all those years, it's good to be home...and not afraid.