His Birthday Present

 

During the construction process of Merry's birthday present, he was more interested in bolts than the soft parts, at least until I got the scratch post in an upright position. The deedly-ball only merited a few minutes of investigation, but in the end, the birthday scratcher/bed received full approval.

He's Two!

He was such a little teacup cat when I brought him home, little pocket cat I could hold in one hand, fast as lightning and smart as a whip. Today, he celebrates his second birthday, and he's matured into a 17-plus pound moose! There's no question as to who rules the roost here, either. He has me trained well to respond to his whims, whether it's providing treats or playtime, or determining when it's time to go to bed or to get up. And he makes me laugh a hundred times a day. Yesterday, I saw him run across the living room but didn't see where he went. I came in from the kitchen asking, "Where's that silly little cat? Where did Merry go?" He wasn't in the window, wasn't on any of his customary perches, wasn't behind the loom, so I figured he was hiding in the overturned box, intending to grab my ankle as I went by. I got down on the floor, stuck the tip of a finger underneath one corner, trying to tempt him to attack it. Nothing. I wiggled the finger. Still nothing. I tried several more times before giving it up, and as I started to stand up, the pile of brown packing paper erupted (it's one of his favourite toys, and fills a large part of the living room)! He had hidden himself inside it, to lay in wait for the unsuspecting Mama. I shrieked and fell over backwards (on purpose), "You got me! You got me good!" which was the precise reaction he'd been anticipating. So, for the joy my Merry brings, please join me in wishing him a happy birthday.

Texture Stripes

Daisy stood empty for about an hour after I took the green "Cornerstones" off. I had already wound a warp for her next project, so it was simply a matter of mounting it and threading before I could start weaving. Or at least that was what I was anticipating. I was nearly done winding on when a small but impactful tornado passed through the remaining warp chain at high speed, tangling his feet in it and managing to escape after breaking only one thread. It was not the Cat-astrophe it might have been, but nevertheless, I threatened him with being turned into a Cat-ass-trophy, and it took the better part of half an hour to find both ends of the broken thread. But the crisis had passed, and by bedtime, I was weaving more towels to replenish my stock, this time in a simple textured stripe, using ends of cones and dye lots for the colour sections.

Kevin's Party

Kevin's retirement party was today. His retirement present from me (inset) was
in a box
in a box
in a box
in a bag
in a box
wrapped in paper
in a box
wrapped in paper
in a box
in a box
in a box
wrapped in paper
in a box
wrapped in paper

It was a gift certificate to our favourite Chinese restaurant, tied up like a scroll with a little blue ribbon.

Weekly Weaving

Since cutting back on my internet time, I've been doing a lot more weaving. With Daisy in the living room, I find that sitting down to weave a motif on the overshot (green) is more like taking a break than being a job in and of itself, even if I've been weaving on the rigid heddle. As for the rigid heddle, the natural-coloured extra-long thrums coupled with pastels turned into an adorable fingertip towel and matching washcloth woven as a 2/1 twill, and I so enjoyed the process that I warped another longer 2/1 twill in autumn shades. I also finished up the most trouble-free band I've ever woven on my Leksand loom, thanks to making some revisions to the way I warped and threaded it. I had no issues with slack in the pattern threads, having run them through the slots in the heddle (rather than through the holes, which was the way I had been instructed to do it). It's been a productive and educational week!

Yellow Season

It's the Yellow Season here in the Pacific Northwest. While by no means exclusive, our early-season plants tend to come in colour waves, with yellow as the introduction to the flowering season. Daffodils, forsythia, skunk cabbage, and of course the inevitable dandelions turn our open spaces and gardens into treasure chests of gold. There will be a blue season and a red before Nature wears motley and serves up an olla podrida of hues. Does this occur universally, or is it solely a phenomenon of the Pacific Northwest? Do east-coast flowers bloom in a succession of colours? Do they follow the same order in Europe? In Australia? In South America? And if they do, they beg the question "Why?" Is there some natural mechanism, genetic or otherwise, connecting colour with other factors? This leads me to another puzzlement: What do other people think about in their idle moments, if not questions like these?

First Day of Skunk Cabbage

Happy First Day of Skunk Cabbage! It was yesterday, actually, and was only made possible by a friend inviting me to lunch with her at our favourite Chinese restaurant. I suggested stopping by the bog on the way home, a little out of the way, but a short walk. The Skunk Cabbage was not as dense or as far along as I'd hoped, but it was present, the first I've observed this year. A change in the wind brought the scent to us as we stood on the trail, not daring to go down into the bog where we could see standing water beneath the deceptive mat of old reed-canary grass. The bog is filling in with the invasive grass, as well as blackberry vines, a long and slow process to be sure, and not likely to overtake the swampy ground in my lifetime. For now, the Skunks are there to welcome Spring.