Meow!

The Amineko Crocheted Cat was in my Ravelry queue for a long time before I finally decided to make it. What spurred me to finally get around to it was the decision in our family to go ahead and (finally!) look for a kitty cat to adopt and make a part of our family. So, in between bouts of searching Petfinder I worked on Sleepy Neko for my youngest child, B.
I used some minimally processed Jacob wool for the main part of the kitty. And when I say minimally processed, I mean minimally processed! I was pulling bits of vegetation and
what I am assuming were lanolin chunks from the yarn the whole time I was working with it. If the mystery white globs weren't lanolin, then maybe the poor sheep had a monstrous case of dandruff. Needless to say, Sleepy Neko had a really thorough washing before he was stuffed and assembled. B took an instant liking to his new kitty, thank goodness! I was worried that he would do what he does with every other toy I give him - take a look and toss it over his shoulder on his way to bigger and better things.



We did find the perfect cats to join our household. Yes, I did say cats! We ended up with a gorgeous mama and baby pair.
The plan was originally to only adopt one cat, and we were looking specifically for a Russian Blue, since they shed less and
seem to be more allergy friendly. We found Georgia through Three Sisters Pet Rescue, and found out that she had her
last kitten, Dakota (Kode for short), with her still. Tim and I couldn't bear the thought of separating them, so we brought
both of them home with us. They are definitely a well bonded pair!



Kode, the kitten, is just a bundle of energy...he's right in the mix with my four kids having a blast! He's claimed me as
his official snuggler, and likes to climb right up on my chest and curl around for a good ear scratch and pampering session.
Georgia, the mama, is more reserved and wary. She's coming out around the kids more, but she spends most of her time out of
reach around them. Except when they're sleeping, that is!

Massacre

*Names have been changed to protect the identities of the victims.


It was a grisly scene when I went to visit my dear old friends, the P family*. I knew something was wrong the moment I got there and the door was slightly ajar. I slowly pushed it open, calling their names.

"Mr. P? Mrs. P? Kids? Are you there?" No answer. I was worried.

I walked down the front hall and rounded the corner into the living room. It took me a moment to comprehend what I was seeing. It was awful, like something out of a mob hit. An arm here, a nose there. An ear lying on the ground next to Mrs. P's best hat.



I ran into the next room, desperate to find some sign of life in this massacre. I stopped short, too shocked to take another step. I had found Mr. and Mrs. P lying on the floor, like discarded toys. But what had been done to them was the worst part.

"What kind of sick person has been at work here?" I heard myself say out loud.

Mrs. P's wide, staring eyes had been relocated...to the top of her head. Oh, and the atrocity committed against Mr. P! His ears and eyes were gone, and his remaining arm had been crudely shoved into the spot where his eyes once were.

I went off in search of the kids, praying that they weren't home...or if they had been there while their parents were tortured, were hiding under the bed or in a closet, unfound by the vicious beasts who committed this terrible crime.
My hopes were dashed when I entered the dining room. I found the kids...and the culprits, the perpetrators of evil and mayhem, still up to their dastardly deeds. They were so consumed by their violence that they didn't even notice me at first.

"Hey!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. They looked up at me, shocked that they had been caught red handed.

"What are you doing? Don't you know it's snack time?"

Do the CanCan!

I have to admit, I haven't been playing with nearly as much yarn as I usually do. In the past month, or maybe month and a half, I've only made one scarf and one shawl. I keep meaning to start more projects, but we've been rather busy lately. We took an amazing 19 day vacation to explore various parts of New England (New Hampshire is my favorite, hands down!) then swung down to DC to check out the Smithsonian. Since we got back, we've been de-cluttering our house in preparation for a yard sale.

And, in my spare time I've adopted a new hobby: Canning.

It all started with some dilly beans that I had at my friend Rachel's house while on vacation. I came home and decided that I had to make some of my own. I did, which led to canning salsa, which led to coleslaw, which led to pickled turnips, which led to blueberry jam (you can't beat 88 cents a pint for blueberries), which led to more salsa. Which I think will lead to me scouring the internet for a great deal on a pressure canner so that I can can (haha, cancan) even more food.
　

There is something so supremely satisfying about standing at the counter in the kitchen peeling turnips, or trimming green beans, or chopping tomatoes - all on a massive scale. There might be a little music in the background. Maybe a bit of conversation with my husband. But mostly it involves simply living in the rhythm of preparing food to put by, something that women of every generation for hundreds of years have done. Sure, canning has only been something used in more recent history, and I am definitely not expending even a scintilla of the energy my foremothers did in their efforts to ensure nutrition for their families over the winter months when the land is dormant - but I feel a connection with them nonetheless.

I'm still petting my yarn on occasion, and dreaming of new projects. For the most part, though, I'm spending my time in the kitchen for now.