Whether Tulip comes across a laundry basket or a box, she loves to plop her body inside.
This particular box - covered with a cat blanket - is no exception.
Do you think she knows that she's sitting in the midst of books about HER? She won't be able to nibble on the pages because of the protective blanket.
#TulipBox
#TulipGuardsHerBooks
What I mean is, I hung blankets in lieu of curtains to keep Tulip out of the venetian blinds at night. Two lap blankets are doing the trick. I pull them back in daylight hours and let them drop for privacy at night. This might mean nothing to anyone reading this, but to me, it's an innovative solution for my long standing issue of Tulip-messing-with-the-blinds.
The red one is on the north side of the house.
The blue one is on the south side of the house.
You might ask, why not install curtains, Barbara?
My answer is, I know better. They'd be chewed upon until they'd resemble lace. Thankfully, as long as Tulip can push the blanket aside so she can look outside, she hasn't bothered with the blankets.
#Tulip_blinds
#catsolution
#TulipBlinds
On Saturday, I made bread pudding. It was still tasty, even with gluten-free multi-grain bread.
Not thinking, I left the recipe on the stovetop. You know what that means:
Tulip got into it.
The paper had become brittle over the years. So much so, it produced a singular crunchy sound, not the typical close-to-silent sound of paper towels when they are being decimated.
All I've heard for the last few days is that a major winter storm is heading our way. Then the forecast was amended to a dangerous ice storm.
The temperature has not moved above freezing. Tree branches were covered with a layer of ice (so pretty!), so we might end up getting some downed power lines.
Trust me: I am an unskilled photographer. Today I took two photos from my back porch, one of which is shown above. When I faced the camera in the opposite direction, the yellow porta-potty next door was the only thing to grab one's attention.
#BensonNC
#TulipHouse
#bigwinterstorm
It was an ordinary day when I opened a jar of Alfredo sauce. The home phone rang, so I walked to the living room to answer it. I was gone for only a minute.
That's when I heard the familiar sound of something falling to the floor -- a sound which invariably draws me to the source. Tulip had dumped half of the Alfredo jar's contents, as well as the jar lid, to the floor.
