Love my cats...again

I usually  love my cats... until I sit down to knit, put my feet up, and one or more land in my lap.  They know I'm less likely to move, and it will be comfy for them for a length of time.  And they let me know how happy they are by extending their claws into my thighs, and making me jump, and swat at them, and leaving me little reminders of their love.  

This is one of them....

And my other "skinny jeans" all tell the same tale.  The elastic that makes them skinny catches on them, and, well, I curse those cats every time it happens.

Today, I thought I must be resourceful enough to make this less of a reminder every time I wear them.

I must say, it turned out to be easy, but not before I attempted to use a tiny needle, which led to using a needle threader, (after 10 minutes I managed to do the deed).  On my second "pull" I found I needed 4 hands to hold a needle threader, needle, crochet hook and push the "pull" through.   But WAIT!

With only the tiny (size 11) crochet hook, the process was sped up, and in no time I had fixed 4 pairs of jeans of numerous pulls.  Once I had fixed a few, more and more became evident... which I gladly fixed (by pulling to the wrong side) and I decided I can live with my cats....again.

I wish I had taken photos of my deep blue jeans.  They were quite the wreck and little white pulls in the deep blue made me quite ANGRY!  

All is well!  I'm so lucky to have JUST THE RIGHT TOOL!

Not the right tools

Unflattering thigh view but you get the idea

Portrait of two cats

For my friend, Denise!  AAAAA-CHOO!

Dogs and cats

We've had dogs and cats, and they have tolerated each other quite well.  In fact, when our previous dog got old and blind and deaf, the cats would walk her around the neighborhood, I swear, they would steer her home.
Then the dog was gone and the cats, Bonnie and Clyde, got two years of living the good life as "only cats".
Last Fall, the infamous yarn and needle eating dog was adopted, and the transition was not easy.  The dog has some herding instinct that makes her think that cats must be chased since they move. And the cats have separately made their peace.
Clyde has stood up to the situation and either ignores the chases by casually leaping out of reach or running like the devil to further frustrate the dog.
Bonnie, however, had another tactic:  She hides.  Disappears as long as the dog is in the house.  Comes out whenever she hears the dog is out for a walk.  Such is life, then...
We went away for vacation.  The young man next door, who adores our dog, and is constantly making the case to his family that they should have a dog (to accompany their two cats...) walks our dog daily, and took her home for the weeks we were away.  He brought her to our house to visit every day while doling out cat food, then we came home.
The first day, the first few minutes, the dog was in the house, I heard Bonnie meowing plaintively (she's a "talker") and suddenly she appeared from under the bed and headed right to the dog.  She rolled in front of the dog; when the dog started to move away Bonnie got right in front of the dog and managed to rub her and trip her up, and generally said, "I'm SOOOOO glad to see you!"
???
I don't know what happened, but there was certainly and transition made in their relationship. (Do you think the cats got the idea that the dog was feeding them?)
The dog remains a "chaser", and if she can get one of the cats to move away from her, she will chase them, but, Bonnie knows how to attack... amazing.

End of week Wrap-Up

A week ago I was doing two of my favorite things; Spending time with my favorite girls and knitting a new project.
Hello Kitty!

Do you think toddlers prefer a theme? I don't. I think themes and logos are imprinted on young minds, and at age three, everything is so interesting, there's no manic attachment that can't be replaced by another.  (I welcome your comment, Marija.)

 Even so, Grandma has been swept up by the craze and has started knitting Hello Kitty pants. Wool pants in July? Yes, since my 3 year old might need them in August or certainly in September. Hello Kitty? Yes, to accompany her socks and shoes. (Socks, certainly, but shoes are outgrown in two months.) White? Yes, that is craziness.

 But, washable, and used mostly inside or under rain pants and snow pants. A Hello Kitty face gets embroidered on the bum, and those are eyelets in the waist band for a drawstring.  (Click on images for a closer look.)
Cute? Yes, on my Norwegian model... Can't go wrong!

Bird Alert!

Of the many things that keep me busy, this is one of them:

A bit of thrashing around, and that (now) well-known flap of feathers followed quickly by a howl means, "Look, Ma! Look what I brought for you!"
Even though I heard the ruckus, and they were within 6 feet of me (and my knitting), it took me several minutes to locate this beautiful bird.
Question... how many feathers does a bird have?  Do they all have roughly the same amount?  Bigger birds=bigger feathers?  They must have plenty of extras!
From the above perch, it took off as I approached and ran straight into a window, dropping behind the sofa.  I grabbed the cat and put her outside.  I opened said window, moved the sofa and darn if it didn't get UNDER it.  That's a new one to me.  Most of the birds in the house fly up;  shelves, windows... and unlike the many hummingbirds that I rescued over the summer, this one flies silently. Only when the cat made her way inside (somehow) did I notice that she was now interested in this:

I closed the cat into a room this time, and let little birdie rest.  I waved a red shirt at it, determined to catch it but little birdie is SO smart to land on things that I don't want to break.  It finally landed in my giant ficus tree right next to the door, and eventually headed straight out the door.  Happy ending!  Vacuuming lots (but not all) of the feathers.

Back to... 'normal'

Painting leaves for Grandma

Two days ago, my daughter and granddaughter departed, separating us by 4,600 miles. I am very lucky that they would travel this far to see us, and allow lots of play-time, crazy non-sense with spaghetti cooked in hot dogs, rice on the floor, paint on the sidewalks, and intermittent screams of terror at night!  Although these sound very disturbing, we enjoyed it every moment we could, and fell comatose into a stupor 2 hours after they left. We will have lasting memories of her bedtime ritual of presenting us with a blanket, in which she would allow herself to be wrapped and carried outside to view the stars, moon, and Jupiter accompanied by Twinkle, Twinkle...  It was magical for us, and doubly magical for mommy who was delivered a willing toddler with eyes closed.

Close to Grandpa.

I'm planning on picking up the pieces of my life, and returning to a busy schedule this week, but first I'll try to write some blog posts, in some sort of order so you can see what happened.
One thing I would like to address is how stressful it is to live with a 2 year old and a 16 year old.  The 2 year old, a toddler, who is crazy about all things 'doggy' (the 16 year old).  Both of them managed uncharacteristically well, since the toddler made sure there was maximum contact between them...  The 16 year old doggy was given up for lost 2 years ago when she had a severe stroke and disabled her eye-sight and walking.  Within 2 weeks, she had recovered much of her ambulatory skills which leaves her running smack into things... she sees some things on one side only, and hears nothing.  So, when she had her last visit to the vet, and it was decided that she wouldn't need a 3 year rabies shot, because, really... (a 19 year old dog?) I opted for the 3 year rabies shot.
A week later, there she is, struggling to move, struck down by another stroke, totally visually impaired, and being carried outside because of limited mobility.  Stopped eating, too.  We tried to put aside the obvious thoughts while the 2-year-old continued her fascination with all things doggy.  A big factor in this fascination was brought on by our cats (Bonnie and Clyde) who made themselves very scarce until after said toddler's bedtime.  (Bonnie provided an educational tableau one evening by letting a mouse run around in the kitchen. No pictures... but lots of mouse hunting stories.)
Today's conclusion:  She's got 'good genes' (as the vet says), and by the time we returned from the airport, our 16 year old was eating, running around, and acting very non-114 "people years".

Puppy or 114 years old? (She's looking at you...)

Mr Orange Marmelade

A day of rest.  This is me on Monday.  A minor "procedure" on my throat.  I'm staying away from heavy machinery... and major decision making.  Does that mean no knitting?

Cat and Bird Drama

Birds enjoy with caution.  

Under the flash reflection is the neighbor kitty, sitting tight for the right moment for a stupid bird.

Meanwhile.... from inside.

No hunting today!  My kitties are staying warm and dry.