My sister just wrote about their week here, and I didn't realize what a great hostess I was, but I guess I did a really good job. Actually, she and Mr. P are very good house guests. They washed a lot of dishes and swept the floor a few times, two jobs I really don't like. Her pictures are much better than mine, and there's lots of good commentary, so I highly recommend having a look at her photo album.
It's been a long week, so I decided to start off the weekend with a bubble bath. My selection of facial masks and pretty Oililiy soap was courtesy of Yvonne. What I should have also gotten a picture of was the cats, who stare endlessly at the bubbles whenever I fill the tub. I'm not sure if they are terrified or fascinated. A combination of both, I suspect.
Later, I took down the Christmas tree, which was as exciting for the cats as the day I put it up. Lucy made herself comfortable in the middle of the floral mesh I used as a garland. Later I found her in the tree box. 
Lucy is a funny girl. Sijbrich thinks that I should train her to do tricks, and I think that is entirely possible. When we first brought the cats home, Petey settled in pretty quickly, and was a little cuddle-bug from the beginning, but Lucy took a little longer. Both cats were about nine months old when we got them, and had spent the previous six months living together in a cage at the shelter where they were being treated for ringworm. I think Lucy must have spent her first three months as a feral cat, because she would do things like steal bones out of the trash, running and hiding with her stash. Apparently she was worried that the feeder dish we keep perpetually filled with cat food Just Might Run Out one day, you never know with those humans, but she would be prepared for that day. She also likes to chew on plastic, any kind will do, plastic bags, plastic wrap, plastic tape. I've even caught her swallowing it, so now I try to keep it out of reach as much as possible. She also didn't like being held. At all. She didn't mind being petted, and was happy to rub against our legs, and even throw herself on the ground for a tummy rub, but the moment we would pick her up, her ears would flatten and she would squirm to get away. She seems to have realized that we are capable of holding her without dropping her now, so she'll tolerate being held if we do it exactly the right way: right side up only (no cradling her like a baby), not too tight, and with lots of petting.
More and more she's settling in and has decided that we humans aren't so bad after all. She wants to play all the time, with us. Her favorite game is fetch, and she usually lets us know she's ready to play by jumping on our headboard and dropping her toy on one of our faces and then chirping. She can do this, because her favorite time to play is around 6 a.m. So we throw the toy, she throws herself off the bed and runs after it and then brings it right back. She can do this for hours it seems, and it never gets old. If we're not available, then Petey will do, and since he can't throw a toy for her to fetch, they bounce from room to room and fly through the mini-blinds to hide on the window sills. If I ever get new curtains made for my living room, I'll have to post before pictures of the sad state of the blinds. Then, when she's tired from the ricocheting off the walls, she'll curl up in my lap and sleep for as long as I can manage to sit still.
It took us a while to bring home new cats after losing Gigi, and a month later losing Dune, and these two will never replace them, but it's comforting to know that they have their own specialness, and bring a new kind of joy into our little house.
