Feline playground

The rest of the ceiling is down now, and after Hank left I did some more demo work and laid out the recessed lighting housings.  The more I can do means the less he has to do, ostensibly reducing the costs of this whole project.

One of the side benefits of doing renovation work in the house is the opportunity we humans give our pets to figure out new ways to explore the abode.  Our three cats are in heaven now, with the ability and opportunity to climb up into the rafters anytime they please for this next week or so.  Our Pavlovian response to their yowling when they want to go into the attic can take a break for a little while, as their access is now unfettered, for the time being.  Feline attic patrols are good, since they are voracious hunters and they tend to keep the rodent population under control.

Living sculpture:

I don't have a picture of their darker side, which was revealed to me this morning on my way to the car in the driveway.  Every once in a while they bring some prey home to us, leaving a dead mouse or bird on our stoop.  I have a regular pet cemetery out back now.  Other times they eat too much grass and clear out their intestines, in the manner that certain "cyclocross racers" do the same at certain "races" on this certain "past Sunday".  This morning I found both:  the back half of a mouse vomited onto our walkway.  Sometimes breakfast doesn't quite sit well, does it?