The other day as I stared at my beige carpet suddenly a sea of other colors emerged, very much like the squeezed-out sqoosh of paint on either side of a Wayne Thiebaud cake-painting brushstroke; orange and green and blue and red and pink but all feeling white. All these colors. And then I looked again and it was just dirty beige. Time to call S. Steemer! I wonder how my cats would feel about having little cotton booties tied over their paws.