Minimalism

It's 10:17pm and I really should be in bed as I have to work tomorrow, but I had to post for I promised to try. I thought I might add more to that sentance, but then it might not matter if it were grammatically correct because it would be so tiresome.

I'm critter sitting in Brookhaven. For a lovely dog and her two kitty housemates. The human recently returned to Atlanta after a four year stint in PA. She's up there this weekend to effect the moving of her things. The house - a three bedroom (well, four if you count the "nanny room"), dining room, living room, kitchen with large eating area, exercise room, two and a half baths (three and a half, if again, you count the "nanny room") - is all but empty. A small table and a couple of comfy chairs and I'd consider myself done.

It makes me think that I shouldn't acquire any furniture so that can live in an empty house (apartment, condo, shack) whenever I find it time to have my very own abode. I like it.

Still, I admit that it will be nice when the human has her beautiful things and furniture in the house - not to mention paints the awful walls and rips down the icky, icky, icky wall paper that looks as if Laura Ashley vomited on a prototype and someone sent it to the printer that way. The human has excellent taste and I know that her choice in wall coverings, be they paper or paint, will be pleasing to my eyes.

I like the sound of empty rooms with hardwood floors. Even the silence has a resonance. So do the dogs paws and the cats tortured cries when the dog has it "playfully" cornered and won't let it go up the stairs.

Ah, such fun with animals and empty houses.