Cataracts: Do Not Want!

Eighteen small screws, one finishing nail, five paintbrushes, two water buckets, two little plastic paintbrush bristle protector things, three canvases and a tube of white acrylic paint. Here is the list of items sent flying in all and sundry directions by the Big Acoustic Kitty this afternoon in an attempt to navigate the turn from one studio table to another. Not being able to see where your feet are going tends to have these kinds of results.

I suppose people would say I'm a bad kitty mama for not taking Himself in to have those nasty old cataracts fixed. It's not that we haven't thought about it, but knowing that he is - at a minimum - thirteen years old does give us pause. Is it better to put him under the strain of anesthesia and surgery (twice!) for something that may or may not work, or is it better to just keep his environment as "same" as possible and let him putter on as he has been?

He's old and crotchety, but I love him to pieces, and the last thing I want to do is make things worse for him.

In happier news, we're off to a concert tonight. Spent the grocery money on tickets, but that's okay...the pantry and the fridge are stuffed to bursting, so who needs to visit Safeway this week? As long as we have enough left over for wet cat food (and we do...my priorities aren't totally out of whack), that's all that matters.

Another painting is almost done, but I'm not being happy with a couple of details, so I'll probably have it posted in a few more days.