Sunday Morning, Rich Girls on the Porch

I'm near the end of the first of four weeks sitting two cats and a big house in a wealthy enclave of town. At first I steamed up about the wealth––several families could live in this four-story house! 
Then I chilled out. (Because every floor is air conditioned.)

It also has porches. Orange Sparkle and Bounce are keeping me company on the front porch this Sunday morning, on their new, old handmade doll furniture (from the thrift store).

With twenty-three days left to go, the other evening I was feeling like an underpaid employee* ––(the cats' designer food costs almost as much as I'm paid for dishing it up--I looked it up) ––
and wishing I could go home.
But ten days ago, when summer-roommate was in a bad mood, I'd been so desperate to get away from my hot and noisy apartment, I'd even wondered about renting an air bnb for a break.

So it came to me to think of this place as my vacation rental. As soon as I did, the weight of judgment lifted, and it's been nice to be here. (Wealth is nice. That's the point, eh.)

Fuming in moral judgment doesn't help anything.
I biked to my place and got some art supplies to make postcards to send to Congress, including to my representative Ilhan Omar, who Trump and his minions are threatening. (Hometown support for her made The Guardian!)

Meanwhile, Sparkle and Bounce LOVE the house. There are so many places to play! 
They say they are rich anyway: "We always have plenty".

Besides the doll couches, I brought some handmade doll clothes home from work yesterday. Bounce doesn't want to take off her gold jumpsuit, but Sparkle tried on all the clothes.

The blue romper isn't handmade--the label reads "Francie 1965".

(That's a Saturn peach ^ Bounce is trying to roll.)

* I was feeling underpaid because I cut my fee in half because the house-owners are friends of friends, and they told me they couldn't afford the fee I first quoted because they have high medical costs, for cancer treatments. 

Of course I was sympathetic. Also, I totally wanted to stay in their central air-conditioning! So I didn't mind taking less.

Win/win!

But then I had to adjust my emotions when I saw, once I was living here, that the high costs include the Gerson therapy diet, which calls for juicing 17+ lbs. of organic produce a day, administering three coffee enemas to yourself a day, and taking supplements ($$$).

Gerson also suggests you buy a $2,400 Norwalk juicer and a second refrigerator to store your freshies.

Gerson has no scientific basis,
but I can believe you feel better if you're actively doing something––the ongoing shopping, juicing, and dosing––
the theater of placebos works!

That's worth a LOT.

And you know, as Captain Kirk says to Dr McCoy,
"It's not our business, Bones."

[That line doesn't actually go with this screencap, but, you know... We needn't be pedantic here.]