What's a cottage without a cat?

Or seven. Yep, you read it right -- seven! I often tell folks, "I didn't sign up for this!" and really, I didn't. It was never my desire or intent to become the Crazy Cat Lady, although I suppose I might very well now fit that description to a tee.

First came Camille, many years ago. I believe she's 18 or 19 now, and most definitely showing her age. Just like a little old lady, she's frail, deaf, ornery, and the kitty version of incontinent at times. And naturally I adore her.

When we moved into Technicolor Cottage, we began to acquire a following of tabby cats who seemed to prefer our front porch to their own home, and to make a long story short, we took them in. One by one, until we had a total of five creatures living under our roof. Five? That was entirely too many! The house quickly became a repository for shed fur and stinkiness, but it was too late to change our minds, as we had long since fallen in love with siblings Pooh, Tiger and Molly, and Molly's sweet son, Pip.

In the Fall of 2007, a menagerie turned up on our back patio one day. Miss Kitty from next door had obviously given birth a few weeks prior, and had brought her brood of five to us. As cold weather was approaching (and as it was glaringly obvious that their negligent "owner" was not going to take proper care of them), we couldn't let these baby kitties remain in the wild, so we trapped them and brought them indoors, and set about the task of finding good homes for them. As they were all absolutely adorable, we had no problem whatsoever rehoming Gracie, Goji and Indy (whom my cousin adopted and renamed Tuxsy), and we decided we'd keep -- yes, keep -- the remaining boys, Sunny and Tiki. And then there were seven.

And now there's rarely a dull moment around our house. Oh, they've been destructive from time to time, have kept us awake at night, have created entirely too many messes that they expect us to take care of, but they've also brought so much joy into our lives. The little monsters. How we love 'em!

Camille

This is Pooh

Like a platter of shrimp!

Three of Miss Kitty's babies

Pip -- he actually thinks he's hiding!

They do a FINE job of crushing couch cushions!

And forgive me for this, but doesn't it PROVE they love us?

And so it begins!

It's no secret that I love color. Vivid and vibrant, saturated, shimmering color! And I'm really not certain when this came about, as I used to decorate my home and dress myself in somber, earthy shades of brown and taupe. But at some point change definitely arrived, and I now find that I thrive in a colorful environment. Bright hues cheer me. I feel energized when I wear certain colors on my body. And I fully appreciate that many - ok, most - people wouldn't be at ease in my surroundings on a permanent basis, but that's ok. You can come and visit in small doses. ;-)

When we moved into our cottage in September of 2003, I hired a painter to take the faded yellow walls in a new direction. He coated the entire house (save for the upstairs bedroom, which retains its original 1948 knotty pine paneling) in Sherwin-Williams Buckram Binding, a serene sandy shade. I infused the space with color from my ever-expanding art collection (many paintings were bought on eBay!), but eventually even that didn't fully satisfy my longing for color, so I began transforming the cottage into a Technicolor riot by repainting the walls. An aged ocher in the breakfast room, Frida Kahlo blue in the kitchen, the hue of an Autumn gourd in the living room, ripe avocado in the dining, gleaming tigereye in the den, breezy aqua in the workout room ... I consider my house to be a work in constant progress (and believe me, a 68-year old home is always in need of something), and I'm not opposed to a little color revision (again!) if and when the spirit moves.