But, really, the dog comes first
Bullwinkle
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Homepage: http://outofyarn.org
Posts by Bullwinkle
I have heard the siren call
Feb 12th
and not done a damn thing have done something about it:
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I ordered a set of Signature Needle Arts circs (size 7, 40 inches, stilletto).
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Owlways and Kmkat have sung the praises – many times. (But I’ve stuck my fingers in my ears and sung loudly in return.)
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Now, Kmkat is offering yarn because of great customer service, US made, eco-friendly practices of a small business in Wisconsin. That’s it! If someone is giving away yarn, I must try them.
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To be continued (Ned can hardly wait):
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Dog Day, part 2 (the pictures)
Feb 10th
Pix are from Wednesday, my Dog Day (when I kidnapped two huskies * to bring them to visit with their favorite person in the whole world **)
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They may have been excited. It’s hard to tell with the one in the back seat:
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He certainly had a lot to say about the trip. ***
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But then they romped and visited with friends and explored,
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There may have been some mud.
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And then we came home.
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*of the canine variety, the UConn version can be found here
**other than the people they live with, of course. The person (and dogs) that we were visiting has recently moved and we haven’t seen her in about 5 weeks.
*** there was one moment, when we came out through a tunnel into a city landscape, and he was very. very. quiet.
A(nother) New Beginning
Feb 6th
(Is there a limit to the number of chances I get?)
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So, I was about to put a cry for help: my knitting mojo was lost.
I didn’t really want to knit anything I had on hand (i.e. easily accessible). I didn’t really like anything I was working on (too simple, too small (a project), too tiny needles, too big (a project), too boring, …)
And then I remembered that it really was just my self-imposed rules (pick it up from the top of the pile, knit it, deal with it, move on) that was causing the problem.
And since these rules were/are self-imposed, I get to change them. (Funny how being the Boss of Me works, huh?)
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Last year, when Schoolhouse Press published Knit One Knit All I was so charmed by the previously unpublished EZ garter stitch patterns, that I decided to knit them all. (It was during the Time of Chaos and Doubt). And then I bought a lot of yarn.
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This particular pattern Brimmed Hat – Panache (Rav link) stumped me. Two problems:
1) the yarn (Unspun Icelandic Wool worked 2 ply) is sticky and fragile – meaning it broke often. (Especially when Nickie was felting it in the wheel.)
2) I can’t count. The pattern is simple enough short rows – but not in a straight-forward sequence. Well it has a pattern, but if I put it down mid-row, I’d forget where I was. Nevermind that I was not using a row counter or notes – I simply expected to keep track of where I was (during the Time of Chaos and Doubt. Yeah, that was a bad idea – I ripped and put it to the side …)
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So I found a little scrap of paper and a pen, and even I can conquer the Brimmed Hat – Panache.
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Knitting Content Catch Up, part 1
Feb 5th
I know ya’ll are off watching the Superbowl (I missed a Betty White commercial?!?)
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And I’ve had these done for weeks, so it’s not all that exciting (unless, maybe, you’re the recipient. And it is actually winter where you live.)
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Also, we have crocus:
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(The weather is too weird to be excited – I am excited about getting some yardwork done before May. Someone had their windows open today. I didn’t think it was quite that warm.)
Stopping by Woods
Feb 2nd
On a Rainy Day
With all due respect to Robert Frost, only I can butcher a poem make (silent) poetry readings complicated:
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Whose woods these are I think I know.
His Our houses is are in the village though;
He will not mind No one will see me stopping here
To watch these woods fill up with deer … (rhymes with snow, but isn’t snow because it is 60 degrees F outside, in February)
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My little giant horse dog must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse dogbed near
Between the woods and frozen lake flowing creek
The darkest evening wettest morning of the year.
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He gives his harness bells doggie tags a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep drip
Of easy wind and downy flake wood-y drake.
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The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Gardening will solve the worlds problems
Feb 1st
Today, I am convinced that more gardening would solve all the world problems*.
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(Or maybe it was 65 degrees F in January and I’ve got sun stroke.)
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p.s. Dude’s little kids won a third place award at the FIRST Lego League Maryland State Championships. 74 teams advanced from 13 regional events. The Magnolia Transformers performed well overall, and brought home the 3rd place award for their project presentation! While robotics is the feature competition event, and the only event open to the public, all teams compete for awards in three other categories: core values, robot design, and the research project.
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This year, the research project topic was food safety and each FLL team was challenged to “explore an actual problem that today’s scientists and engineers are trying to solve, develop an innovative solution to that problem, and share their findings.” Magnolia advanced to the finals based on their robotics competition performance on Jan 7th, they worked hard over the last three weeks to revise their research project by developing the idea of using carbon nanotubes to implement sensors to detect salmonella. The key technology behind their idea has recently been discovered by scientists at the University of Pennsylvania, who were happy to share their work with the Magnolia students via a computer teleconference meeting.
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*It is possible that, given the weather (sunny and warm) and the abundance of robots, I simply needed something not-manmade nor electrical nor even-human in my life. And while birds are indeed noisy little things, they are nothing like a few hundred elementary school students and the Cha Cha Slide.
The Paint Stories
Jan 21st
(Aside: I’ve been writing this post for almost a week (not that the writing is any good, mind you) and there are no relevant pix (wrong for stories, but tactically correct).)
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The important thing to remember is that Ned was trying to be good. (I, on the other hand, was trying to be quick and efficient.) (And I was neither.)
Paint Story, Part 1:
I cleared out the master bedroom in order to paint the walls. Dude helped with the furniture and we left the large dresser in the middle of the room. The plan was to paint the walls, then remove the carpet – so the carpet was acting as the drop cloth.
I covered the large dresser with plastic, stirred the paint. I left the room to find a screwdriver to remove the switch plates and light covers. I returned. The cats were sniffing around, checking it all out. (Ou! Different!) I had the gallon of paint (open) in place and I was fitting the paint roller onto the roller thing.
As I’m working on the roller with my back to the paint, Ned comes around the dresser. There is no room for him to pass, except to hop over the can of paint.
Problem: Ned does not hop; Ned does not jump. Ned is a wuss. He’d rather we lift him up. When I put my hand on his chest to get ready to lift and he puts his little paws out like he is Superman taking off to fly.
Problem: I am unconcerned because he is being very careful and patient. I figure I’ll pick him up as soon as that roller is on the unit.
Out of the corner of m eye, I see Ned’s front feet clear the paint can. His solution to being stuck in the corner is to have sniffed and gauged and to gingerly step over the open paint can.
Problem: he failed to account for that cat pooch. (It’s called the Greater Omentum and all cats have it.) (And, you know, it’s an understandable mistake for an inexperienced feline brain.)
So … Ned is stepping over the (open) paint can and his pooch drags through the wet paint. His little brain says “eewwww” and he rounds his back to lift the pouch higher. His forward momentum causes this to drop his rear end into the paint can.
And then there was a thought bubble that appeared over his head and it was “YUCK! JUMP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
So he dropped his back knees in preparation to spring – further dipping his rear end into the paint - and he hopped. A perfect kitty hop – with his tail acting as ballast and dropping down, dragging completely through the paint.
I was quick and I snagged him – under his shoulders – and called for Dude. Who stopped what he was doing, stood up, came around a corner and was faced with me, holding a squirming unhappy cat, covered in paint from his mid-section down to the tip of his tail. I couldn’t see the extent of the damage at this point, but Dude could – the paint side was facing him. To his credit, without hesitation, Dude took him from me (and held him at arms length.)
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And he looked at me and said “now what?”
We dropped Ned in the shower. Dude’s brand-new jeans are now paint splattered. Damage to the room – trivial. Damage to Ned – feline dignity.
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Paint Story: part 2
I, on the other hand, in a moment of efficiency (I was waiting for dinner to cook – I had 20 minutes) decided that I’d do some (final) touch up on the trim. (Because I’d picked up a new better smaller paintbrush for this chore.) So I open the quart of paint. A new full quart of paint. And I dip in my brush and I finish the door frame and lower trim. I did a little of upper trim. And I was down, off the step stool. On the floor (which, by the way is bare wood. I’ve all ready pulled out the carpet – so it is no longer a drop cloth. But all I’m doing is a wee bit of touch up. With a tiny brush. Very carefully. Very slowly.
And then I drop the full quart of white paint. All over the floor. A 15 foot long path, 4 feet wide. A spectacular arc of white paint, everywhere. And two cats in the room watching me.
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I win: Anything Ned can do, I can do better. Anything Ned can do, I can do more.
And that is why I didn’t blog Thursday (Friday was because of robots).
(By the way, I was covered in paint. Jeans (dog jeans – I don’t really care how stained they are, my top (eh – I liked that top but not a great loss), my birkenstocks (oh sad), my socks (I don’t think these are recoverable). I got most of the fingernails cleaned at red lights yesterday. My toes still have white paint as I type.)























