It took Bridget almost three months to find the heated kitty bowl I bought for Violet (who is eighteen years old, which the vet says is eighty-eight in people years!). And now that she's found it (in a rare moment when Violet wasn't already in it) she's claimed it. And she's not coming out. She's in a heated-polar-fleece trance. I really didn't think she ever sat still for longer than four or five seconds. Wrong. She's parked.
That face. Such an odd, funny little creature.
Looks like we will now have two heated kitty bowls in the house. Yep, we're now those people.
In other news, we also have a coconut-cream tart. From one of my favorite bakeries. Pairs well with hot chai on a cold afternoon. I saved half for Andy, but he'd probably better hurry home. That's kind of his view of the city during the work day (not mine; I just happened to be on that side of town today). His view is from even higher up the hill, and better, actually. Especially when it's not so cloudy, and you can see all the mountains. That bank of gray clouds is hiding a whole string of midnight-blue mountains, and one big white one. Pretty little city.