Hello, all. Skye here, for another Feline Friday. It is also Frozen Friday. Our furnace is down (oddly enough, it has nothing to do with fur, although “fur” is right there in the name. Talk about misleading.) and the Heater Human is down in the basement now, working on it. This has been going on for a couple of days (do not worry, he goes home and hunts for parts and things and does other jobs and then comes back; he is not a prisoner.) and we are all ready to be warm again. Although I have a built in fur coat (maybe it is called a “furnace” because it is for humans, who do not have fur, and therefore need an external source of heat?) the humans do not, so they are wearing layers of clothing, wrapping themselves in blankets and drinking lots of tea.
Normally, lots of tea makes Anty happy, and it still does, but it is better when it is a choice and not a necessity. Anty is used to having cold times once in a while; we do live in New York, after all, and Anty has lived in the northeast most of her life. Uncle is from California, so this is a little different for him. I think he will be happiest of all when it is warm again. Heater Human says that if he cannot fix things on this try, he will get another Heater Human to come and help. Things will be back to normal soon, which is a good thing. While Heater Human is still on the job, he has to ring the doorbell when he wants in. The doorbell is loud, and I hide under the bed when I hear it, in case it is the catpocalypse. (That is like the apocalypse, but aimed specifically at cats. So far, I have avoided it.)
Snuggled under blankets, with a cup of tea, is a comfortable state for writers, especially those, like Anty, who write about times long ago. To them, this would be normal. Cold weather means extra layers of clothing, gathering around the fire (I am sure that kitties made certain to get the prime spots in front of the big fireplaces when there was such gathering to do) and telling stories, making music or playing games. Also art. Anty has found that waiting for Heater Human to report his progress is a good time to take care of tasks she can do with frequent interruptions (writing is not one of those) and not much brain power.
One of those things is going through some art supplies she inherited from her papa and seeing what can still be used. These tubes are a kind of paint called gouash. They are older than me. A lot older. They should be a very thick liquid, but they are solid. Anty did some research and found out that gouache is a special kind of paint that stays alive even when it is hard, so she had to find out if that was true.
It took some boiling water and some patience, but most of the paint can still be used if she adds some water to it. Now, the challenge is how to get it out of the tubes. Maybe the humans at the art store can help her with that. Getting these paints to work mean that Anty has another thing she can use in her art. The orange page below is painted with gouache, and is now ready to have other things up on top of that.
Anty is also trying out some pencils, both colored and the regular kind, that were in the same box with the paints and her fountain pen. She thinks of these things as buried treasures. They might have been created a long time ago, but she can use those older things to make new things, from her own imagination now. It is the same way with writing. Sometimes, an idea or a character that did not work at one time, but also did not go away, can come to life at a later date. Sometimes, they can be even better when rediscovered than they were when they were first put away.
Now I have a confession to make. I stopped a lot during the writing of this blog, to investigate the heater below the window seat. It smelled interesting. Very interesting. That is because Heater Human really is a super hero, and made the furnace work again. It is also something older that worked when something new was added to it, which fits with this week’s theme nicely. I could not have planned that better. Now we are toasty again, but I think Anty will still consume the same amount of tea.
That is about it for this week, so, until next time, I remain very truly yours,
Skye O’Malley Hart-Bowling
(the kitty, not the book)