Moby so determined to sit on my lap, he climbed over the top of the laptop to be there. When he does decide to sit on a lap, he's not fucking around. Oh, his name, as mentioned in another discussion over at Pete's place. That came up by free associating for a week. When we were in Saudi, D joked that if asked about his middle name, Israel, he would claim the I stood for Ishmael. He also actually read the whole of Moby Dick once, which I found impressive. Cat at that point was still mostly hiding under, under the sofa, under the bathroom cabinet, under the bed, so a presence underneath named Moby felt just right.
D has been cold in this house, and we are trying to not spend a fortune on heating. It's a constant struggle of light through old windows that leak heat, heavy brown shades that insulate and black out, more space than we are accustomed to, forced air, and that he has done so much of the nuts and bolts of the paperless work, mostly online, sitting. He's been very cold, which makes anyone a bit unhappy. We had an electric/oil heater, but had been only using it in the bedroom. The music room has two doorways, only one with a door. On Saturday, we talked this out, and solved it. The heater lives in the music room, and I put this cloth up over the doorway, and D has a cozy haven to be warm in, while we keep the thermostat very low.
Does look very hippie, don't it?
The other doorway opens from the kitchen into the freshly de-dusted dining room. And the only extant lighting fixture we genuinely like as is. The shadows from these lights fascinate Moby, he often attacks them.