I Didn't Know You Could Milk A Cat

We had a lot of animals growing up.  Most of them found us rather than we finding them.  One of these animals was a black calico cat with a white star on her forehead we named Isis. She was a tiny little thing- not malnourished (plenty o-mice in the barn), but just a very small, dainty cat.  She lived in our barn and, for whatever reason, not only was she not afraid of humans, she actually liked them.  From the day we met her, she would let us not only approach her, but also pet and pick her up. However, she only liked us humans on her terms and on her turf...in the barn.  We tried bringing her to our porch where we kept the cat food for our own cat- a tom named Tasha (short for Taj Mahal- based on the size of the presents he left in his litter box). She would let us pick her up and carry her anywhere, but she would run like the wind back to the barn every time we brought her to the porch. 

Well, eventually Isis figured out that if she wanted to be lazy pampered and, instead of hunting for those stupid mice, eat the food given by the strange human masseuses that visited her in her barn, then she should deign to allow them to carry her in her litter (ha! punny!) and feed her on the porch of their her new house.  Tasha was not pleased.  He started out as an indoor cat but, due to his love of the outdoors, eventually became an outdoor cat.  However, since he knew he was an aristocratic "indoor" cat, he would wait patiently for his food to be served at meal times.  He would not knock the lid off of the food and just dig right in like other barn-raised lowlifes he could name.  The prince would wait for his human slaves to serve him in his ever so proper pie pan like the regal feline he was.  Isis would see him eat and try to join in, but he would growl at her and would block her at every turn until he was done.  When he was done, he, being the master of the house, would then knock the pie pan over and bury any food that he did not eat.  He sure showed her!  Eh.  Why wait for the slaves when she knew where the food was stored?  Off the lid for the food would go and in Isis would jump to eat to her heart's content. 

We were sad that our sweet little Tasha (ok, truth be told, only I found him sweet- I'm some sort of cat whisperer- they love me) would never like the newest addition to our household.  Everybody loved Isis.  She was the type of cat that would let you pick her up and fold her up and play her like an accordion.  She didn't care- she was just so chill.  Well, we soon found out Tasha did indeed like Isis....during certain times of the month....

A few weeks after Tasha succumbed to Isis' charms, we noticed she started getting....plumper.  Since she was such a small cat, her swollen pregnant belly was a very comical sight to behold as it would swing from side to side as she sauntered around the yard.  A few weeks later, we were able to observe firsthand the miracle of birth.  First came out a black kitten, just like Tasha.  Then another black kitten.  Then...2 orange and 2 white kittens.  That slut. 

We saw as she raised and nurtured those adorable mewling little balls of fur with the closed eyes and minuscule ears. We also noticed how they would nurse- kneading their mother's milk filled teats- and would cringe at thought of how painful it must have been.  She would still swing from side to side when she sauntered, but it was no longer a pregnant belly that was carried with the momentum.  (There may have been mention of a Feline Miracle Nursing Bra once or twice, but I can't be sure.) However, she would just purr in contentment as she raised her family.  Ahhh....the miracle of life. 

I was reminded of Isis and her brood today as I was working on a new design.  No, not the bag that made me giggle and blush from two days ago- I mean, I am working on that one, too, but this one ninja kicked that one out of the queue tonight while I was watching a movie- Coco Avant Chanel.  I'm not done watching it yet- my Mister is on the phone with his sister, so it's paused.  Gave me enough time to grab some wool and my hook and away I go!

Anywho...I'm loving this design and it's making me entirely too happy.  It'll be the first time I've worked with bobbles, thus the first time I'll felt bobbles.  I'm starting out with a swatch to see if I even have the concept down correctly.

Yay me!  I am loving the spacing of the bobbles and can picture the texture they'll make once felted.

See? Nice and texture-y and bobble-y.  Hopefully it will make a beautiful finished bag.  I'm really excited about it and showed it to my sis.  She saw.....this:

  Ah.....the miracle of the deranged mind.  Just don't let Gaylord Focker near him, sis.




(ETA:  It's later in the evening and I'm re-reading my post. My Mister is no longer on the phone and is now ready for bed.

My Mister:  Honey!!! Hurry up and come to bed!!
Me:  Hold on!  I'm re-reading to make sure I don't look stoopid with any misspellings or grammatical errors.
Mister:  What?!?  You are the one who just put boobies on a cat- what do you think you look like?!?

I laughed and laughed and laughed.

Argh.  He has a point....)

Back to Life, Back to Reality

I’m an all-or-nothing sort of gal. I have a difficult time devoting a little bit of time to any one thing without devoting all of my time to that thing. Either I’m hyper focusing on something, or else I have the attention span of a gnat. Once I get started on an idea, on a project, on an obsession, the ties that bind me to it are virtually unbreakable. (Unfortunately, this is only true with things that hold my attention- housework….not so much, much to my Mister’s chagrin.) This is even truer when it comes to books. If you are a reader, you know what it’s like to lose yourself in a book. To voraciously devour word after word and not notice the pages as they swiftly fly by until you subconsciously notice that the end of the story that has trapped you is in sight. Now that I have allowed that first love back into my life, I am completely under its spell and am having a difficult time breaking off the imaginary tales spun from an author’s deft hand and living within the confines of my “real” life. (I think that Libby from yesterday’s comments understands this. She’s my new blog friend- you should check out her blog- it’s filled with both crochet and knit loverlies!)



I have now started a book entitled, The Thirteenth Tale. I am totally and completely ensnared. This is a wonderful occurrence in the life of a reader, when the story encapsulates you wholly and completely until the very last words on the page releases you from its iron clad grasp. However, it’s not so wonderful when the lines between real and literary life begin to blur. I get stuck in a daze reliving the lives of the characters in my mind’s eye when I’m supposed to be living my life at home or at work. Their adventures are projected on my internal movie screen during any idle moments I’m able to snatch throughout the day (driving, in between clients, during private times utilizing the facilities….) and I end up being jolted back to reality with the adrenaline rush experienced when you are suddenly woken up out of a deep sleep.


Even though I know that reading is my escape mechanism of choice and that once I’ve “escaped” it’s ever so difficult to reacquaint myself with reality, I don’t care. At least, not right now. I NEED to finish this book. I cannot resume normal life activities until I know what the Thirteenth Tale is. Crochet and laundry and dinner…what are these next to the thrilling escapades brought to life in the pages of this book? Every time I shut it so that I can do something silly like earn money, I feel like I am somehow pausing the lives of these characters. They cannot exist unless I am there to see them live. They only have 400 pages to live their life- if my daily life must be put on hold for a few hours to allow these characters to flourish within the confines of these covers, then so be it.


My Mister knows this about me. He found it out early in our marriage when he tried taking my book (Hercule Poirot’s Christmas) away from me as I was brushing my teeth. I had it clasped so tightly in my hand that it ripped in two. (He was trying to have a conversation with me and was trying to be “playful.” He’s lucky he still has his arms.) It took me a verrrry long time to forgive him for that. He knows that it’s virtually impossible to get me to focus on something if I have yet to finish my book (or purse, or Mario blanket). He really is a very good man and is extremely patient with me. He’s the organized, logical, neat-freak and I’m the impulsive, disorganized, dreamer. We have enough differences to keep it interesting and a lot of love to keep it together. Sure, I’m a dreamer, but I’ve got enough of a Realist in me to realize I’ve got something good and no book or other distraction in the world will be able to tear it away from me. Even though I get so easily lost in other characters’ stories, our life story is The One I cannot get enough of and I am anxiously awaiting to find what is on the next page.

Until my next reading break, it truly is back to life, back to reality.....

Hooks, Books, and Me.

Last night I did something that I hadn't done in a few months.  I read.  Shhhh!  Don't tell my hooks and yarn!  I still feel like I'm cheating on them when I pick up my books, but in all honesty, my books are my first love. I keep practicing in the mirror saying, "Listen, Hooks.  You are the "other woman" so you shouldn't be jealous about the time I spend with my Books. So....there."  (I resist the urge to stick out my tongue at them because that would just be silly.) Just as I get my courage up to tell them in person, I realize that the Hooks are the ones who can gouge out my eyeballs when I'm asleep whereas my Books can merely give me a paper cut.  However, if the Books were able to find the lemons and sadistically squirt my paper cut, or if they decide to band together and "accidentally" drop on my head, then I may need to forgo all relations with either Hooks or Books and....sleep more.  Hmmm....that may not be a bad idea since I am now picturing an army of Books that look a lot like Whomps slowly doing their death march holding the Hooks as weapons doing the "Oh eeee oh....ohhhh oh," chant from the Wizard of Oz.  Yipes.  Must.Sleep.More.

So, I stayed up till 2 am ravishing finishing off my book.  Hey!  It's been a long absence and we just got caught up in our torrid affair!  One page turned into another and....we just got carried away.  Don't judge me.

What literary trollop had me stray from my hooks, you ask?  Anne of Green Gables.  Now, I am terribly ashamed of this.  No, not that it was a "children's book"- some of my favorite books are "children's books."  It's just that.....I can barely get the words out.....I had never read it before.  WHAT?!?  I KNOW!  I am ashamed.  What kind of book obsessed poseur am I?  I have been reading since I was 3 years old.  Laura Ingles Wilder's The Long Winter was the first chapter book I read- I was 6 in first grade.  We had a Book Caterpillar that would "walk" along the wall, growing a leg with each book the students read throughout the year.  I made up more than half of that caterpillar all by my lonesome- it almost made it around all four walls.  In the fifth grade, we went to the library every two weeks and were allowed to check out 2 books each.  The librarian would hold me after my class left and let me check out 5.  I first read Are You There God?  It's Me, Margaret that year and would secretly chant, "I must, I must, I must increase my bust!" while flapping my arms like a Dolly Parton obsessed duck in my bedroom.  When I finally read the Harry Potter series, I read all 6 books that were out at the time in between Christmas and New Years. I've since read them through twice more.  I love reading the classics and have all of Jane Austen's canon as well as the Bronte sisters', and most of Agatha Christie's.  

I truly love to read.  How is it that I have never read Anne???  I have no idea and I'm actually sad that I didn't read it as a child since I found a "kindred spirit" in that carrot topped, impish little girl.  The similarities between Anne and me are quite striking- impulsive, chronic daydreamers who love to read, have a flair for the dramatic, and graduated first in their class.  (Yes, I was class Valedictorian- don't act so surprised.....jerks.)  Where Anne beats me is that she can both knit AND crochet!  She and I would have been the best of friends growing up.  My in-laws bought me the first two books of the series for Christmas (along with To Kill a Mockingbird, which I have read previously) and I am just now getting to them.  I hang my head in shame.

Now, just so I won't seem like such an adulterer (or maybe to prove how much I like to play the field), I did crochet for most of the morning yesterday. I'm just about done with the Chocolate Strawberry purse (I need to finish the flap, but I need to take pictures of it for the pattern), and I made another Tri-Colored purse (I need a better name for those purses.....any suggestions out in blog land?) in blues and browns so that I'll have the pattern for both the hard and soft handled purses.  Yay me!

So, you see- I am perfectly capable of having more than one love.  I started on a new purse today- it makes me giggle and blush thinking about it.  I think I will be faithful to that tonight.  Wait.....what's that?  Why Helloo there, Anne of Avonlea.  How YOU doin'?

Spring Is In the Air

I'm sooo thankful that spring is in the air.  The temps are rising and the sun is shining. The days are getting longer and I can just feel myself getting happier by the day.  I love all seasons of the year; however, I must admit that I really do love it when the days start getting longer and it becomes warm enough to work in the garden.  Starting tomorrow, my garden is going to be filled with the seeds of life that will bring forth the ever so tasty tomatoes, cucumbers, peas, and other veggies I end up planting.  I actually bought 2 raspberry, 2 black raspberry, and 2 blueberry bushes to plant this year.  I CANNOT WAIT!

To celebrate this wonderful season, I made some tasty, springy, sandwiches for my Mister and me.  I used:

2 slices of my low-cal/high fiber bread (80 kcal)

3 oz canned chicken breast (would be great with fresh, but use whatcha got) (60 kcal)

1oz luscious creamy brie (100 kcal)

1 Tbs low fat mayo (50 kcal)

some Grey Poupon

1/4 C fresh organic spring spinach and field greens

and 2Tbs canned cranberries we had left over from Thanksgiving.  (50 kcal)

= ~375 kcal of spring time deliciousness

The tartness of the cranberries and the pungency of the Dijon mustard creates a fresh, spring flavor explosion in my mouth.  I wish I had some fresh baguette to utilize with this tasty treat.  Crack open a chilled bottle of crisp Sauvignon Blanc while eating this delicious sandwich and you will be transported to an outdoor bistro filled with sunshine and the glorious smells of freshly baked bread.   My Mister loved this sandwich- I know you will too.  Thank God for Spring!

Yesterday, Love Was Such an Easy Game to Play

Yesterday was awesome.  I had an all-hands meeting at work, which in and of itself usually would not have the word "awesome" associated with it.  However, I attacked something at this meeting that I've only slowly crept upon at our last all-hands meeting in January.  I crocheted during.the.meeting.  EEEEP!  Last meeting I only crocheted during the breaks, but this time I thought, All right, I'll go in there for Dorothy. Wicked Witch or no Wicked Witch, guards or no guards, I'll tear them apart. I may not come out alive, but I'm going in there.  And in there I went.  And I still have my job!!  Whoo Hoo!  The planets have aligned for me this month- I'm telling you, NatCroMo and NatNutMo have created some sort of cosmic all encompassing Gege Force Field and I can do no wrong.  It.was.awesome.

In my meeting, I was working on a Chocolate Strawberry Tote for an order I received Wednesday.  That in and of itself does have the word "awesome" associated with it.  Making it even more awesome is the fact that I decided to write down the pattern while I was working on it.  Oh yes, my friends.  The recipe for the Gege bags that started it all is coming! I received confirmation that this was the right thing to do when I received an etsy mail yesterday from a person requesting said patterns.  I told you- planets aligned.

When I came home, I had the house to myself since my Mister was working late and my sis was going to a friend's house. On the way home I was thinking of all the wonderful things I could do with this free time.  Usually free time and I don't mix well.  I always come up with way too many options for my poor ADD brain to process and I end up deciding to get the nap out of the way first.  Mmmmmm...naps.

After going around in circles trying to make a priority list that a rational person would make, I decided to forgo the moldy laundry still in the washer from last week (I wish I was exaggerating) and instead take pictures of my stole (still unblocked, but I needed something to show the glorious green in all it's splendor.). I ran outside with my camera and set it up on my mailbox to try to capture myself mid-transformation into a L.A.D.Y.  Transformation is only complete once I weave in the ends and I block it.  I may never be transformed.  After quite a few shots of myself in different poses (some of which I was trying my "sexy" face. I don't know why I try- I just cannot nail the "sexy".  I always end up looking constipated and that is so NOT sexy.  I don't know what my neighbors were thinking of me.  "Is that crazy girl trying to take a crapper in her front yard again?  Oh, wait. Never mind. She's obviously a L.A.D.Y. doing her sexy face.  Dang- her husband is the luckiest guy in the world.") I managed to get one that wasn't total crap.  But, being the genius photographer that I am, the stole is in shadow and you can't see the green.  

So, here's a pic of the green. 

Isn't it gorgeous??  (That is in full sunlight- no flash.) I actually started this pattern with Cascade 220 superwash in colorway 867. I thought it was oh so pretty in the store and thought that, since this project was for me, I'd splurge on myself with $10 per ball yarn.  I wanted a color that would go well with either brown or black and thought this one would suffice.  It truly is pretty wound up in a ball; however, when crocheted into my stole, it looked like this:

This pic is a good representation of the true color.  Up close you do see some pretty turquoise and yellow in it, which is what drew me to it in the first place.  However, it didn't have the sheen that I was envisioning for this shawl and looked just......off. I couldn't put my finger on it and just continued anyway telling myself that I would love it in time.  I was getting that feeling in my stomach that I get when I decide to put off a project until I figure out what's bothering me with it.  Well, trust my Mister to nail it on one.  He said, "That looks like old moldy yarn."  Bingo.  That's what was bothering me!  I just was not feeling this color because I didn't want to look like a moldy, constipated L.A.D.Y.  So, I spent 30 bucks on some yarn that only looks good in a ball.  LYS trip fail.

Thank goodness I had the Moda Dea yarn in my stash.  I started over and that feeling in my stomach began to recede.  But, not completely.  I mentioned that this was the Feather and Fan pattern I found on Ravelry.  It truly is very pretty, but I was just not satisfied with it.  It had a very obvious front and back and I didn't like that Sam I Am- not one bit.

You have to sc in back loop only every other row which creates that ridge in between the rows.  It leaves the back looking like this:

I was getting more and more frustrated with it as I continued- I don't know why I try tricking myself to like something when my instincts have their sirens blaring and lights flashing telling me to stop.  Had I stopped, I wouldn't have had to frog an entire skein of yarn when the very easy solution of BLO one row, FLO one row dawned on me.  Now, my stole doesn't have such an obvious front/back and I'm free to wear it with flare.  I truly need to trust my instincts more.

Now, if you do buy this yarn, I do want to caution you that, even though it is only 45% wool and 55% rayon (who else didn't know that rayon came from bamboo?), it can and does felt.  It felts very well, actually, as my sis found out the hard way.  This is the first Pinky LaRue scarf that I made next to the one I'm making for me:

Doh.  I didn't think it would felt since the wool content was so low so I didn't caution her about washing it by hand.  Next time I won't be distracted by the pretty yarn and will actually read the wrapper:

Double Doh.  Oh well. Live and learn.  (And cry and scream and tell sis that she'll just have to suffer without a pretty scarf since there's no way I'm giving her mine. Nope. It's mine. I am resolute and cannot be shaken! I have my cosmic Force Field up!  Wait...what? You'll buy me yarn?  Well........maybe.  Resolutely maybe.)