Making adjustments

The house that I am living in is beginning to feel a little more like home. I reconstructed my floor loom last weekend and wove a scarf on Monday and I plan to measure out some more warp this afternoon. My photos and books litter the coffee table.

I have a mouse friend who rummages through the garbage during the early morning hours while I try to sleep. I don't mind the company and I purposely leave bread crumbs on the floor for her. One night I left some nuts (that were meant for Bennie the squirrel) sitting on the kitchen counter. I awoke to the sound of them being dropped onto the floor and then carried off by Miss Mouse. Ah well, I hated to ruin her day by taking back her newly found treasure. I mean, can you imagine how happy she must have been?

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There is one thing that I haven't quite gotten used to yet:

On the bedroom's wooden panels, high on the wall, there are silhouettes of silhouette projects -- the former made by the bleaching sun and the latter created by school children with scissors and construction paper. Four heads --two boys, two girls. I expect them to turn their faces to me sometimes, and they remind me of a hot drink that can be bought in Austrian cafes. These drinks are served in white cups that have black silhouettes, and I think the drink is heavy with cream. It might even be named after Mozart, but I have forgotten the details because I never actually have ordered the beverage myself and so the experience of taste, name, and place is lacking.