Two things I might mention, now that I"m here.
Yesterday I went to Village Books' first Steampunk Ball event - people are SO inventive and wonderful when it comes to steampunkish costumes. There were women in leather corsets and lace-up boots, men in brocade overcoats and lavish cravats and tophats crowned with goggles. There was a kid wearing a gas mask who kept taking it off (presumably because it was hot and uncomfortable) and then putting it back on again (because it was so! damned! cool!). They had books on display and for purchase, some new and steaming hot off the presses, some old (really, when you said "Steampunk" the first idea that came into my head would NOT be Sherlock Holmes, but okay, I can see how that can be concatenated...) Was fun. All I really had to contribute costume wise was a vest-like item of clothing that I own and that looked vaguely in character, and the goggles I wore as Doctor Horrible at Radcon Opening Ceremonies this year - but okay, I tried... (did feel severely underdressed, thoug...) And I discovered a couple of people who actually read my blog - hi guys! It was lovely to make your acquaintance!
Anyway - after we mingled for a bit we grabbed a bite to eat at the Colophon Cafe and then meandered on home. And, in due time, went to bed, business as usual.
At four o'clock in the morning I was woken from a sound sleep by an Explosion of Cat - one of my two had just hurled itself against the glass doors to the deck in a seething, hissing, spitting ball of fur and fangs and claws. I thought for a moment that they were fighting again (they have minor WOrld War Four encounters every so often, the two of them, until they patch it up again and coexist peacefully) but then I looked again and out on the moonlit deck I saw something that should not be there.
We had an Intruder. A Second Storey Man. Complete with burglar's mask... and a long striped fuzzy tail.
I got up to take a closer look and discovered Cat #2 cowering under the bed - it wasn't the two of them fighting, it was just one of them taking exception to the visitor - and sure enough, it was a damned raccoon out there, meandering back and forth amongst the planters. I padded out to the dining room, following the still outraged cat noises coming from the windows, and switched on the outside light - and the little so-and-so, sitting RIGHT outside the window, kind of stood up on its hind legs and stared at me in nonplussed insouciance as if he wanted to know what I wanted from him. Then he ambled off to make a leisurely inspection of the birdfood bin in the corner, poked around for bit, found it a problem that it might take too long to solve, and stuffed himself between two of the uprights in the deck fencing (his roly poly butt got stuck for a bit, there, and he stood there working it through and waving that maginificent tail around) and then he was out and presumably climbing back down to terra firma.
The cat's tail was of a circumference that almost matched the raccoon's, and she was still emitting occasional random hisses, like a broken tea-kettle, so I gave her some kitty treats to calm her down and went back to bed hoping the night visitor would not return.
This morning, yawning mightily, I scritched the cat between the ears, and asked if she had fun last night. She just looked at me as though I had lost my mind. But in all seriousness I hope the beastie from the woods doesn't make a habit of this. Else sleep will be in short supply around here as the cats go into full hunting mode at oh-dark-hundred.
Anyway. That's where we're at right now. Now, onwards. I'll quit yawning after my third cup of coffee, I guess. And I've work to do.
I'll be back more regularly. Promise.