Friday, December 25, 2009
There's a hole in my living room floor. My living room floor is an old pine subfloor, likely dating from 1904 when the house was built. Why, after over a hundred years, this house still has a soft-wood subfloor in the living room is beyond me. (And notice I’ve not done anything about it either.) One day several years ago when I was on Living Room Layout #12™ (I like to rearrange), I leaned back in my current computer chair and the leg of the chair went straight through a known weak spot in the floor. I won’t regale you with an account of my resulting awkward descent to the floor. This post is about the hole that resulted.
Periodically, Bubba, a formerly feral one-eyed cat, will escape out the back door and immediately go under the house. He'll bat his paw up through the floor to play with the other cats or get our attention, and even the kids can pet his cheek with a single finger through the hole in the floor, while ordinarily he won't let them anywhere near him. And when I’m not looking, they will drop stinky pieces of tuna or other meat in the hole. This does not please me, although Bubba appreciates the efforts.
There may or may not be another unknown cat living under the house. Just because I’ve seen the same cat running in and out from under my house for months does not necessarily mean anything and I refuse to add him to the list of cats who already live with me. (Yes, I’ve finally been approached by a stranger in a store saying, “You’re the cat lady, right?”) The under-the-house cat is unofficial.
It’s not just the cats under the house who are drawn to the hole. Here is a view from above:
Before I shoved my camera at the hole with the flash, I lived in blissful ignorance. For in addition to the above, there are also some unidentifiable lumps, old chewing gum, a pencil stub, too much hair, a KEY (no, no, please no), and a full-sized towel. This is not a large hole. The towel mystifies me.
But this picture takes the cake. Does anyone else see the evil demon alien baby in there or is it just me?
I’ve named it Fluffy.
Yes, the wildly interesting thing in my life is a hole. There is something profound in that somewhere.