The other day I was sorting out my crinolines: tidying them away.  I set them down on the floor for a second, turned around to pick up a cord to tie them with, and turned back to find this: One cat, comfortably ensconced on the crinolines. She wasn’t moving either. No pleas, treats, temptations, blandishments or threats could get her off.  She just sat there, paws crossed, and surveyed her circular domain.   For an hour.  And a half. Yep.  My cat sure knows how to be the centre of attention!

Maybe it’s the oncoming winter, maybe it’s withdrawal after how awesome last weekend was, maybe it’s the phase of the moon, or some weird pollen in the air, but this weekend I’m feeling really low and grumpy. I’m grumpy about how behind I am with sewing, and grumpy that I still haven’t managed to show you The Project (I keep scheduling photoshoots, and every time I have one all ready to go, something comes up and I have to postpone).  I’m grumpy that the house is messy, and that I have to cook dinner, and with how I parked the car, and that I made a stupid grammatical  error in an email and hit ‘send’ before I noticed it.  I’m grumpy that there is nothing good on TV, and that it’s cold, and that the heater makes it too hot, and that I’ve probably made a number of grammatical errors in this paragraph, because I’m grumpy… Well, they are all dumb, silly things to be grumpy about.  I know I’ve accomplished a lot, and that …

Felicity has been a rather recalcitrant model lately, and has disappeared whenever the light was good and the camera came out. Yesterday though, I was sorting some gorgeous vintage lace that I recently acquired, and Miss Fiss decided she wasn’t going to be out-admired by some lace.  So she occupied it, and set out to prove that she was more gorgeous and glamorous than the lace. This is my best side Now get a full face shot while I do my ‘pensive’ pose. And a tail shot.  I have a great tail. I’m ready for my close up Miss Mommes Once I’d taken a couple dozen photos, I tried to tempt her from her bed of  lace with that most forbidden of pleasures:  pattern tissue.  She wasn’t having any of it.  Pattern tissue is no fun if it is allowed!