The Gears Begin to Turn

Winning easily for Type of Prizes You Want:
First is "lots of surprises."
Second is "crafting accessories / tools."
Third is "yarn."

~~ Duly noted. ~~

For the past three nights, I have had dreams heavily featuring Hugh Laurie.

Heav-i-ly.

I have taken this as a sign that, perhaps, he should be one of my KH nominees.  Unless, of course, Terry --- have you already claimed dibs? 

What Lies Ahead

Over the weekend, preparing to turn the calendars to August, I began to think about Knitters' Hunk and Knitters' Chick.  First, what about prizes?  Here --- let's practice our voting, and you tell me.

Second, who am I going to nominate?  I keep sort of a running list, and my KH possibilities are up to eight now, and KC possibilities are four.

Third, who are the Hall of Fame inductees going to be?  I'm the one who announced there would be yearly inductions, so I'd best stay with that program.

So very much to do. . . 

Back and Forth

For several days in a row, I've had crushing headaches.  There are so many headaches that people have probably long since stopped paying very close attention to me when I talk about them.  Honestly, it would probably be more newsworthy if I didn't have one.  The last several days, though, have been brutal.  I may have to try acupuncture again. . .

The Beld Cardigan that I announced a few days ago as my new project is now off the needles.  Quite possibly a result of the headaches, the pattern made no sense to me once I began the yoke.  Seriously --- several times over a couple of days, I sat here with the needles in my lap, staring at the pattern, and couldn't make any sense of it.  Frogged.  Given my inability to return to something that has given me problems, I don't think there will be a pretty green Beld in my closet.  Maybe another color?

I turned to Drea's Shawl as my next cast-on, with Ancient Arts Yarn Himalayan (in honor of my glorious first cat Barrymore)

and Paintbox Candyshop.

There Is Superstition

Kathy posted some fun questions on her blog this morning, but one especially caught my attention: "What was one thing your father always said?"  Her answer was that her father would not allow singing at the table.

Neither would mine! 

And I, solely out of years of training, never allow it.

BUT WHY?

In our case, it was almost certainly something to do with superstition.  My father's family was/is crazily superstitious.  No hats on a bed.  No shoes on a bed.  Turn around if a black cat walks in front of you.  Never go back to your starting point once you've left.  (Daddy forgot his wallet here once, realized it not even 1/2 mile away from the house, but would not backtrack to get it.  I had to mail it to him.) When someone gets out of a rocking chair, stop its rocking.  When someone gets off a swing, stop its swinging.  Daddy had a port wine birthmark all over one arm and onto his chest;  everyone in the family swore it was because my grandmother had watched a house burn down when she was pregnant with him.  At sporting events, he and I would switch seats if "our" player/team wasn't doing well.  Those are all that spring to mind just now, but there are more.

I still stop rocking chairs and swings.  The singing at the table thing, of course.  I remain ultra-superstitious about sports.  The black cat thing has never been anything.  In fact, we had a black cat --- Gable.  Daddy was always a hint on edge around him.  And as for not returning home once you've begun a trip. . .  When you realize that the one pacifier ---the ONLY ONE --- pacifier your baby uses is still at the house (or the only stuffed animal that will do, or the only blanket), you turn around RIGHT QUICK.  Am I right, moms?

Don't Say I Didn't Warn You

Hey, you said you wanted to see The Kitten That Hannah and Will Saved.  The picture is overwhelming in its cuteness, and its ability to elicit squeals and "oh!"s.

If you think it might be too much for you, please turn away now.

Really.

The picture is nigh.

Leave, those of you with Heightened Susceptibility to Adorable.

'Cause here she is.

RIGHT????????????????

Lily Potter Dean

My soft-hearted daughter found a tiny, tiny kitten a few days ago.  She (Hannah says she looked up in Google how to sex a kitten) has to be fed with an eye-dropper every four hours.  So far so good, even with the three older "siblings": Klunk, Lemon, and Rasputin.  As of yesterday, Tiny One had begun to realize she has back legs.  Handy, as Raz is apparently anxious to play with her and, with the playful swats to get things started, he knocks her right over.

Hannah showed me a photo (well, lots of photos, actually) --- she's a tortoise-shell whose face is cut precisely in half, forehead to chin, between black and tortie.  She also has four perfectly-halved feet: two cream socks and two black.  With whom she will ultimately live is up in the air.  Hannah and Will will get attached.  I'd be glad to take her on.  Briton has been thinking about getting another cat.

All of this --- the tiny little baby, the tiny little baby being a tortie ---put me in mind of our dear Lily.  She fit into the palm of my hand when we got her (from a secretary where I was teaching whose barn cat had a litter), and she grew to be rather the queen around here.  She was the only of our cats who was belled, and hearing that sound still makes me look for her. She was a gem.

#Chewy Influencer, July --- Interesting

Another month, another report on cat food from Chewy.com.  There's a bit of a twist with this one, though.

Talking to the vet after Madeleine's glucose curve stay, we went back and forth on possible canned foods for her.  (She steals what I give Erin and Riley if I don't stand unwavering guard.)  This seemed like a good option.  Here's the thing, though --- all three of them are all over the place with this food.  Some nights they clean their plates, some nights they barely touch it.

All that being said, I have to report that this won't be a re-order for me.  There have been other brands of food that were more popular and cost less.  Sorry, Victor --- you're a no-go here.

Each month, as part of its Influencer program, Chewy.com allows me to choose products for trial.  There is no money involved, only my promise to provide honest reviews and accounts of my experiences with the products.