Posts by Heather Zoppetti
Rusty the cat glares at the camera with ears back.
I told him tomorrow is Monday. He’s not impressed. Me too, Rusty. Me too. #catsky
Rusty, an orange and white cat, is snuggled up next to his human on the couch while snow is falling gently outside.
Snow day cat naps
FFS
“Princess? Hmm.” Jace grinned his winning smile. Perfectly aligned, pearly white teeth gleamed under the artificial lights. “Your vibe is more ‘wraith tours of colonial injustice’. Ooh! We could start a ghost tour event in the evenings.”
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Despite myself, I looked again at the strange beauty around me—tiny creatures no bigger than sparrows flitted overhead, their wings made of threads that unraveled and rewove themselves mid-flight.
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Husband was not amused when I suggested we put the fireplace ashes on the sidewalk (for the ice) in the shape of humans.
His dad returned from work and made us the most delicious mac and cheese dinner. I hadn’t had a homemade meal in years. And let me tell you, Vanessa, I don’t know if there’s anything more comforting than cheese melted over pasta.
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Photo illustrates the beginnings of a handknit sweater that is largely ribbing. The first five inches are done. Yarn is a hard-to-capture bluish green heathered yarn.
Knitting a pattern with 18” of ribbing. By next December, I might have a sweater, but possibly only a vest.
The ground squelched under my boots, damp with a mist that clung low and silver in the dim light.
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I made that blanket! Yours looks great!
📣 Our Portland 2026 Call for Proposals is now open!
Share your insights on docs, workflows, or communication with our community. We want to hear from everyone who cares about great documentation.
Submit by Jan 19, present May 3-5: buff.ly/ovDf40Q
It felt as though I’d crossed into a subtly different version of my life. A faint, invisible line separated my past and present into the time with my mother and the time after her death.
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Rusty, an orange and white cat, lounges on a wool, crochet blanket draped over a warm radiator.
Radiators are the best when topped with a wool blanket.
Rusty the orange and white cat glares at the camera from behind a laptop. He wonders: how are you doing?
As the holiday season starts up, how are you doing? Rusty the cat wants you to know he thinks we should call 2025 done and go right into 2026.
Thanks! ❤️
I have a short story in @inkedingraypress.bsky.social’s Stellar Parallax anthology!
Read the announcement and learn about all the amazing stories: inkedingray.com/announcing-h...
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Where am I?
My throat tightened. The lights buzzed louder. I pressed my palms against my eyes and tried to count. One. Two. Three.
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After ten years away, everything had changed. Wisma was now a wasteland of flat fields, shuttered strip malls, and forgotten family restaurants.
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The house itself felt warm, lived-in, full of framed family photos and the smell of something always baking in the oven. It was the opposite of my house, where I felt like a guest who’d overstayed my welcome instead of a son.
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Instead, I stared into the little flame between us. It guttered, then steadied, as if reminding me that fragile light could still hold back the dark—at least for a while.
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A braid of spinning fiber from @intothewhirled yarn in the color “Unobtainium” which is green, purple, and blue. The blend is 70/15/15 Merino/Yak/Silk
I don’t know what it is about fall that makes me want to spin yarn, but I’ll take it. Next up: this delicious blend from @intothewhirled.bsky.social
I don’t understand the arguments for keeping standard time over the winter. They say it’s not great for the zone edges. So why not shift the zones? We are used to shifting time 2x a year. Shift the problematic zone areas and stay in daylight savings time.
An olive green skein of handspun yarn right off the niddy-noddy