Friday, March 7, 2008

Crinklings~~

Columbines of summer...aaaah. Is this in my back yard? Yes! Now? Well...no, actually. This was taken in June of 2005. Now I'm NOT tired of the snow, I'm still enjoying winter, but it IS fading; there is a difference. The sky's a slightly different blue, the air, even in the single digits (like this morning) has a sweetness that really does foretell Spring. Now, the Frost Giants are strong in this part of the world and they never give up without a fight, but the Hoop is turning, and Spring IS just a little bit ahead.

(Remind me I said this, if I start mewling and whining about it in future, 'K?)

These ARE bleak days in Packerland, Brett Favre has retired. It's been even on the national news. Now, I'm not a sports fan, by and large, but you know, even I would describe myself as a Packer Backer. And even though I don't much know the rules of the game, I have watched - and the sight of a comely young man, clutching a pigskin, racing down the field lickey-quick with a lot of gargantuan behemoths thundering after him with pointy things on the bottoms of their shoes and death in their eyes right behind him....that's inspiring. And out of character as it may be, I'm going to say my short piece on the whole flap: at 38 years of age he's a young man; as a football player, that's a little long in the tooth. He's broken records, he's set the bar way high and polished it, and I applaud his wisdom in walking away as a hero. He and his wife are humanitarians, they have youngsters, and he can now enjoy the rest of his life, which is sure to include aiding other people.

Brett - you may have a #4 on your jersey but you're Number One around here.

If this looks a bit out-of-focus, it's not...it's the start of a fingerless mitt, and looks fuzzy because it's being seen through my misty eyes! Note, please - this is not, I repeat NOT a toque. At the moment, there are no queries, not requests, no commissions - for toques. Tonight is our Late-Night Knit and I'm officially moving back into my Rolling Yarn-y Knitty Thingie for the occasion. I have at LEAST three projects in there on the needles, plus a few delicious skeins tingling with anticipation. My current book fits in there, and so does the notebook with my Writing Class assignment begun in it. I am EXCITED! Well...I'm always excited about going to see the gang, so that's not new.

Now a few oddments to catch up: I saw, on television the other day, a story about a lady whose cat has a kidney transplant! (This was somewhere out east, sorry for the vague lack of details.) It was a boy kitty, and those in the know KNOW that boy kitties can have kidney problems. In itself I thought this was quite a neat story, but it got better! The donor cat had been in the shelter, likely headed for euthanasia, but one requisite was that the donor cat was also given a home with the transplant kitty's family. They both appeared to be Tuxedos, and the final footage showed the two kitties sitting close together looking out the window, and their "mom" talking about what a pleasure it was to have two healthy cats. Got to me, I don't mind saying.

As I finished the Last of the Toques I watched "The Shipping News". Is it just me, or do you find yourself knitting really FAST during tense parts in a movie? (At least on something simple like straight stockinette...) There is some knitting going on in that movie, a scene of the Quoyles dragging their massive house across the frozen lake on runners in a white-out snow which makes me feel blue in the toes even during the summer....and one of the best lines in any film. The manager of the newspaper states, "If I wanted 'War and Peace' I'd have hired William bloody Shakespeare!"

On the subject of wonderful quotations, from a writing book gifted to me by my friend Beth ( Chocolate Sheep ) is another: "It's teatime, and all the dolls are at the table." Love the image!

There was even a good quotation on Oprah (yes, yes, I know - but she's good knitting-watching). Bill Cosby was on, talking about the shameful parenting going on, particularly in the black communities {yes, I know it's controversial; we can take it outside if you like}. I don't recall where this originated but it's one of those "so simple it SHOULD go without saying" sayings. "Hurt people....hurt people." Of course, that's the fact -- the changing of it is a 'nother whole thingie.

And in conclusion - I had to take my beloved hiking boots in to Cecil-the-shoe-repair-guy because the sole was coming loose on the left one. Now, I did *NOT* pull and tug on it to loosen it up just so I could go see Cecil. I didn't. Really. HOWEVER! Cecil has a big ol' cat name of Felix, whom I think I mentioned before....he's the Shoe Shop cat and spends his day sitting in one of several kitty beds around the place or curling up among the plants in the front window or sitting on the counter watching Cecil (or if Cecil sits down, a rare occurrence, he sits in his lap.

Well, while Mr Dearling talked to Cecil about re-soling my shoe (Cecil put his finger in where it was loose....and pulled the whole sole off!!), I sat down in one of the waiting-for-shoes chairs, and Felix came over, stepped right into my lap and curled up , allowing me to stroke him and whisper to him and -- yes, I even kissed his ear! I would be there yet, but Mr Dearling finished our transaction, and it was time to go; I reluctantly put Felix down and he strolled langorously over and curled up in his window bed. I wonder if I shouldn't get my Berkies re-soled for summer?!?!?! When I go back to visit him Saturday I may take some treats. Cecil says that's OK.

"There are two means of refuge from the misery of life: Music, and CATS."

(I have been unable to find the source for this wonderful quote; any help would be appreciated!)

6 comments:

Beth said...

I've seen the quote attributed to Albert Schweitzer; I have it on my revolving email signature list. I'm not sure how much refuge my four provide, but I wouldn't be without them.

I've been lurking for a few weeks and enjoying your kitties and knitting. The re-enactment information is almost like going home to me; we used to dress in 18th century costume each weekend when I was a kid for various craft shows. If you ever want to test your problem-solving skills, try to use a portapotty in a four-hoop hoopskirt. Wonderful fun!

dale-harriet said...

Beth - {{laughing!} Oh yes, "been there, done that" - fortunately most sites have handicapped porta-johns, VERY useful to the hoop-wearer! Although my 18th c. garb is usually not a problem (can't beat an Ojibway strap dress for comfort and ease) I once went to a CW affair on campus here...in my Subaru. I parked in a wrong place, and a friend warned me before my car was towed, so I ran over to move it. The policeman was standing there as I came up and I explained that I'd be right outta there - he grinned widely and said "Mind if I just stick around to see how this is done?" as I wedged myself under the steering wheel. (For those who may not know, incidentally, hoops are flexible; it CAN be done. Ain't easy, but IS possible!) Where is a proper Landau when you need one?

janna said...

If that policeman were a real gentleman, he would have moved the car for you! ;-)

yarndork said...

That's a great story about the cats and the kidney. I love rescue stories! Did I ever tell you that the first love of my life was found in a garbage can at my grade school? I named him Rufus after the cat in The Rescuers (Disney). Dang, if that doesn't date me...I'm going off to watch the REAL Absent Minded Professor now. I love me some Fred MacMurray!

Juli said...

Even we die-hard Vikings fans down here in Farmington shed a few tears when we heard about Bret. He is a great player, a great person, and he and spandex make a wonderful combination.

Marjorie said...

oohh, Felix reminds me of our Dear Mr. O- no wonder you didn't want to leave!

Re: hoops & portaP's: anyone who doubts that hoops are a handicap, let THEM try using Size Regular instead of the Handicap potty. Yeh, it can be done, but pretty it will never be.

Glad Spring is giving you a few hints of what's to come. We'll ship you some more soon, I suspect. The orange tree and the Pettisporum over the driveway are sending out fumes to get drunk upon, and the sun is gearing up for actual Spring. Hugzzz!