MissGoogle · stuff · Uncategorized

Spoiling My Cat- A Project

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Decorative table top fountains are often good watering stations for cats.

My darling cat, Miss Google, has a couple of annoying habits. She wakes me up at the butt-crack of dawn, demanding to be fed; her favorite sleeping place is on top of my open book; and she continually drops pieces of food into her water bowl. Once there are little soggy nuggets of cat chow floating in the bowl, she refuses to drink from that water, and searches the house for any other source of water she can find, including the toilet bowl on occasion. Which just grosses me out completely.

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Handmade Cat Fountain by Kieth David, available on Etsy for $138

I thought about getting her a small tabletop fountain, after seeing her drink from the running faucet, and remembering how my sister’s cat, Cat-Cat wouldn’t drink from a bowl, just from the faucet. However, the drinking fountains designed for cats are primarily made in China of plastic, which is not food safe. If I won’t use it for myself, why would I let my kitty drink from it? There are stainless steel models, but Miss G has made her dislike of metal dishware clear in the past. There is a man selling pottery cat fountains on Etsy, with non-toxic glazes, and copper piping. They are beautiful, and if I win the lottery, I’ll get her one, because they are pricey! He was inspired by seeing how his cat Bijou, drank from the tabletop fountain he had.

I’ve googled how to make my own tapletop fountain, and it seems like something even someone with my limited skills might be able to do, so I plan to head out to the nearest hardware store and pick up the needed supplies.

I will need:

  • a wide and deep sealed terra cotta or pottery bowl for her to drink from
  • a taller and deeper vessel (also sealed) to house the pump and a large amout of the water
  • a “bubbler” for a fish tank
  • some plastic tubing
  • waterproof adhesive

Some of these things I will scrounge around the house to find, like the containers. I’m thinking about using an old wash basin, and a few mismatched teacups to make the fountain pretty as well as functional.

Pictures and updates to follow!

 

books · crap · crowded · epiphany · finances · hoarders · home · moving · rummage sale · selfish · Steven · stuff · tears · tiny flat · tools · understanding

This Isn’t a Home, It’s A Rummage Sale!

In the last month my entire life has shifted, not just physically, but in a rather spooky spiritual sense. Some background: it’s been a very rough year for us, as the gods of finances seem to be conspiring against us. Steven lost his job, and my itsy-bitsy monthly disability stipend just barely covers the rent. We decided to move to a smaller apartment in the same building in order to have enough to cover utilities, too.

Over Thanksgiving weekend, and a few days after, we moved the contents of our two-bedroom flat into a one-bedroom down the hall. a few things went into storage at my parents place, and more will go there eventually, I hope. More things must go. This place is tiny, and every bit of space is taken up with stuff–his desks & computer stuff, the amazing television & the sofa Dad gave us, my bookshelves & books, his tools, and boxes of stuff neither of us has been wiling to sort through or part with yet.

As we moved, I discovered three drawers full of my clothes that I’d forgotten about in the dresser I couldn’t get to in the closet. Now these are piled in the bedroom, waiting to be sorted. I must sort, because until I do, I cannot get to the other clothes! I was so angry at Steven when we moved, simply because I stood in the center of all this stuff, feeling like one of those people on “Hoarders.” All I could see were these endless stacks of crap, and I would start to cry & whine. Scared that I’d get crushed under a pile of old magazines & Philips head screwdrivers, I was tearful & not very nice to him. Looking back, I was being incredibly selfish, especially since he did 80% of the work for our move, including moving full bookshelves all by himself !

Fortunately, he is not only eternally understanding, he didn’t like the mess, either. After a day of rest, he began putting up shelves, and finding places for things, just so I’d be happy. We’re slowly settling in, and sorting out. I have to remind myself that it doesn’t matter where we are, as long as were together; I also have to remind him of that, since he’s not real thrilled with many things right now.

The whole purpose of this move was to save money, and that isn’t going to happen. Yes, our landlord screwed us with extra fees and took all but three dollars of our damage deposit! So even though I’m happy here in our rummage sale home, I’m pretty ticked off. And crowded. But happy. And home. Oh, and as for my big spiritual epiphany, there wasn’t one. But it sure got ya reading, didn’t it?