Perspective
Nov. 7th, 2010 10:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
marinessOften, it's just a matter of perspective.
For instance, if you are a small cat, your hands down favorite part of this entire house, no discussion, is the unintentional tunnel beneath the bathtub, running from the hallway to the half bath, perfectly designed to allow you to rush and wiggle through to the half bath startling people sitting on the toilet who had assumed, given the closed door, that they could conduct their business in peace and without the attentions of an interested cat, or, for that matter, be able to sit on the seat without sitting on a cat.
If you are me, that same tunnel is currently hands down your least favorite part of the house, primarily, but not limited to, the fact that its very presence is allowing small cat paws to track dirt all over the brand new floors in the rest of the house and onto the blankets and bedcovers carefully cleaned before you headed in this direction.
Also, if you are a cat: exciting news. You CAN leap to the top of the refrigerator, and if that weren't awesome enough on its own you can ALSO leap from the top of the refrigerator to the corner space over the cabinets which is terribly exciting also because this ensures humans will yell at you. AND you can leap from that space over the sink even if – this is the best part – a human just happens to be using the sink at that very moment for activities that do not require the presence of a flying cat.
Which more or less leads me to the bathroom update. Currently, if you are willing to use pliers, the bathtub is operable. The sink, too, works (even if it's not exactly reachable at the moment) although the toilet for that room remains proudly and defiantly in the back yard. These are, as you might be guessing, not precisely optimal bathroom conditions.
And yet.
THE COFFEEMAKER HAS BEEN FOUND.
The house is not precisely in chaos; it's just not precisely, or at all, put together yet, either, primarily because we haven't placed the furniture yet, and won't until all of the trim and the wallboards are in, which won't happen until the bathroom is finished, which is taking longer than you might think it would. (Not entirely or even mostly because of the cats, although they are watching with interest, and at least one has offered assistance.) I actually expect more chaos once the furniture is placed and we start unpacking things. But we shall see.
Today is going to be very loud.
For instance, if you are a small cat, your hands down favorite part of this entire house, no discussion, is the unintentional tunnel beneath the bathtub, running from the hallway to the half bath, perfectly designed to allow you to rush and wiggle through to the half bath startling people sitting on the toilet who had assumed, given the closed door, that they could conduct their business in peace and without the attentions of an interested cat, or, for that matter, be able to sit on the seat without sitting on a cat.
If you are me, that same tunnel is currently hands down your least favorite part of the house, primarily, but not limited to, the fact that its very presence is allowing small cat paws to track dirt all over the brand new floors in the rest of the house and onto the blankets and bedcovers carefully cleaned before you headed in this direction.
Also, if you are a cat: exciting news. You CAN leap to the top of the refrigerator, and if that weren't awesome enough on its own you can ALSO leap from the top of the refrigerator to the corner space over the cabinets which is terribly exciting also because this ensures humans will yell at you. AND you can leap from that space over the sink even if – this is the best part – a human just happens to be using the sink at that very moment for activities that do not require the presence of a flying cat.
Which more or less leads me to the bathroom update. Currently, if you are willing to use pliers, the bathtub is operable. The sink, too, works (even if it's not exactly reachable at the moment) although the toilet for that room remains proudly and defiantly in the back yard. These are, as you might be guessing, not precisely optimal bathroom conditions.
And yet.
THE COFFEEMAKER HAS BEEN FOUND.
The house is not precisely in chaos; it's just not precisely, or at all, put together yet, either, primarily because we haven't placed the furniture yet, and won't until all of the trim and the wallboards are in, which won't happen until the bathroom is finished, which is taking longer than you might think it would. (Not entirely or even mostly because of the cats, although they are watching with interest, and at least one has offered assistance.) I actually expect more chaos once the furniture is placed and we start unpacking things. But we shall see.
Today is going to be very loud.