i mentioned this earlier, but i'll go on record about my involvement with etsy.com... i blush when i say this, i love this community of artists & what i preceive to be their purpose...their calling.
i had joined a few years ago, hearing about them from indie designer based blogs & websites. they seemed legit so i joined since i was getting no traffic at all at my website. as soon as i did i found that it was a huge community of crafters & just by shear mass it was hard to be seen for all the competition. instead of seeing it as a challenge, i threw up my hands & left after a few months of no sales.
my website business picked up, but i was having problems with my shopping cart (still do)...so i went back to etsy after hearing about some upgrades with them...they had raised their rates & were even more massive, but they were also better organized & were constantly improving upon themselves ...i was given "tools" thru inspirational articles and an energetic forum to rival anyone elses. tho my first sale was not immediate, i've seen an increase & now a hope that what i love to do can now pay for itself.
Anyway, I think my husband is slowly planning a murder by kitties…and ME as the victim…(dramatic intro of …”who are you…who…who..who, who?”).
Let me tell you my concerns. When we moved to this small (isolated) town, I wanted a cat…one cat. My husband started to collect 4 cats…FOUR! But not just ordinary cats…each having a skill..a talent if you will.
He’s the “smoozer”. He lulls me into a false sense of security with his fine tuned cat-ways, by purring in my ear, cuddling me in bed, and tongue-washing me to show his nurturing side.
He’s the “gentleman”. Always attentive to my needs (how obvious can you get!)…trying to earn my trust to be the only one of the “gang of four” to enter my inner sanctum…”my studio”. I’ve caught him trying to open the doors to my studio on several occassions.
He’s the “enforcer”. I will admit I created a monster! When John found Checkers in the backward…purely, by accident, he says…he was only about 3 inches long..his mother abandoned him for dead (more likely, saw the “666” birth mark on his head). Of course I nurtured him a little too well. He’s twice the size of a “normal cat, of this earthly domain”…he likes to crawl on my chest in bed…and pretends he doesn’t know that my breathing stops.
She’s the “mastermind” I fear…her facial markings in a permanent “intimidation stare”. The other cats seem to do what she wants them to do. I can’t touch her without her trying to scratch or bite me, YET my husband can pick her up & pet her…a friendly cat-man relationship?... or a conspiracy in the making!?
There is yet no solid proof that there is a conspiracy…though I did find a half finished miniature popsicle replica of my studio in the closet…….HELP ME!