Five Little Kittens

Five little guys entered my life last weekend. We received a box full of toes one evening from a friend. Our population of mouse hunters on the farm has dwindled to one. When I found a dead critter in my watering can, I was a bit upset. So it was time to begin again with some new feline busy bodies.

Five little furry kittens all licking mittens were cuddling in a box, One jumped up to catch a string, and the others followed to see this thing, and there were no more kittens in the box!

Naming the little guys might be easier said than done. First of all I can’t use any magicians nor cats from famous books, because my husband can’t even say “Bagheera“ correctly and that is the black panther from “Jungle Book” in case you did not know either. Famous people with the name Black doesn’t work as I don’t like people names for pets. Calling my cat “Clint” just seems weird (Clint Black). The most famous Black scientist that I could think of was George Washington Carver, Percy Julian and that doesn’t match either. On we go, we’ll just be generic and call the black cat, Blackly!

Next most obvious is Stripes. Yep, The pinstriped tiger grey kitty does not look like a tiger to me. Just Stripes! That would do, let’s just be obvious..Then there is Spots. The only one that when looking down on them in the food dish, has spots. Yep, let’s be exact. However, the next two are a little less conspicuous. Boots has legs that look like lace-ups or buckles on them. Socks is black on the back, but all white paws and legs like a sport sock that goes up to the knee.

Finding the escape artist is now part of my daily routine until we get the kittens to the vet and are ready to let them be outside. Magic tricks are not my favorite television watching past time. I never see the “trick” and miss the whole point of the act. So considering myself a magic act is kind of funny. But a cat can never resist a string. So that’s the devise that I use to trick them into coming back into the room. I know that they are ready for some more roaming space.

The other morning I had to have reminder that the dog was sleeping next door in the old house to escape the thunderstorm. My hubby felt sorry from him and gave him a rug to sleep on. We really need a garage or back porch inclosed for the old boy. Charlie is nine or ten now and getting more and more scaredy-cat than ever. I think he would benefit from some pheromone treatment for sure.

And of other boxes. We were not able to help my daughter and her family move into their new house as much as we thought we would. Yes we did hlep with the kids and some packing up before hand. But my hubby ended up with a herniated disc from trying to lift the cast iron old wood cook stove. It was in the Old, old house two doors east of us. They ended up using a rope and a tractor and a skid-loader to get it out of the way. Who knew that the thing was so heavy?

Little kids are just about as curious as kittens. They just can’t resist getting into what is not theirs. Or being destructive with toys that they do not understand (age inappropriateness). We found so many little mix-ups with the toy containers. I am still trying to et things put away again. Some things will get hidden for the next visit. Just not dealing with toys out of age range and the busy mess. Uff dah.

One afternoon was spent cleaning the weeds out of the hydrant flower bed. The bug bites were so numerous, I spend the next 24 hours in sick mode. They really do make me feel like I have the flu. The body aches and the fatigue are more than I can handle. But then I just thought about my poor husband’s herniated disc, and let that sympathetic nausea tell me that I was okay. Today is better but now the humidity and the lawn mowing “fresh cut grass” smell is bothering my asthma. So truly if it’s not one thing it’s another.

I lost two beautiful plants in the greenhouse over the last week. Two of them were ivy types. And they had been looking so beautiful. What a bummer. Sometimes I think I should give up on plants. I do the easy ones for the most part and even then, they end up dead just out of the blue.

Normalcy

No such thing

My initial thought to the above picture:

“It is the wrong time of year for cotton candy!”

Then my mind tells me- No, silly, that’s wool.

What is normal? Finding a new normal is just as challenging as trying to keep things normal. Maybe there is no such thing.

Today I spent several hours picking through some wool that I dyed the other day. That is not really a usual activity for me. Doing this chore during the summer time makes more sense. Having soaked it in vinegar before dying did help as the matter was easier to pick out and fell apart readily. Dirty jobs really are meant for outside. This chore is considered so for the back breading position I find myself in keeps me bent over even when the job is done.

It was just the thing for my dry hands though. The oil in the wool moistures the parched skin. So I think I will try another hour at it this afternoon. Let my back straighten up some first.

Nearly finished with the prayer shawls for my mother. She wanted them out of fishermen’s wool. The project is beautiful and made me think on the wool spinning that i have neglected for so long. Maybe this is the week to figure out that skill again. Finding the rhythm is the hardest part. If I could only remember whose concertos were the best for the long steady strides. It will probably be the cellist that is best.

The hour spent picking kept me from heading into the office. The room is so inviting now that it is all cleaned up. It is also much warmer than any other room as only the window wall has outside exposure. Nice reprieve from the wool sweaters that I have been wearing the last month. Will the cold ever leave us?

When will the normal temperatures return? we are below normal by nearly 30 degrees this time of year. The old normal was two weeks of a cold snap in January. This year the cold snap is more like a drum beat that won’t stop. Part of me wishes they would not tell us what the normal temps are then we wouldn’t be so tired of the cold.

The best anecdote to the cold for me is a wool garment. Wool socks. Wool sweaters. Wool mittens. Wool hats. For all those that can’t do the wool, my apologies. Try some fake fleece item. They are at lease soft.

March is just around the corner. Actually it is only days away. Normally all of my snomen display gets put away about now. Because there are afew snow globes with water in them, I cannot put them away until after the chance of freezing goes away. They normally get put back into the old house. There is no heat over there. So this year maybe I will stash them in the empty bedroom closet. Just because I am so tired of the cold, it is time for spring. Out with the snowmen, in with Easter!

There is no such thing as normalcy. While I may attempt to keep things a certain way in my life, capturing the usual just seems evasive this year. Haven’t even got to plant in the greenhouse yet. It is just too cold!

Foolish ideas for this time of year would be planting potatoes in the snow. Thank goodness Easter is two months aways yet. But since my mind thinks of things in terms of farming or gardening, this proverb did come to mind on this 26th day of February. Proverbs 26:1 “As snow in summer and rain in harvest, So honor is not fitting for a fool.” Spring has another month before it’s true arrival. So we will let winter continue on it’s snowy path. Normal days of winter might exist also.

If it’s string

Then it must be yarn

Today I sat on the deck carding some very dirty wool. This is the preparation to spinning the wool into singles-yarmn.  I found it quite fascinating to be the daily WordPress prompt for today. I spend the majority of my time thinking about yarn. 

Last night I searched for an hour trying to find a specific pattern for some woolyhat was ready for a shawl. It took me over three hours into the day this morning to remember that I wanted to try that pattern. Here’s how the rough-spun looks after a days work.


My fascination with yarn began as a child when my grandmother taught me how to crochet. It seems that she taught quite a few of her grandchildren. I have a sister that crochets and knits and a cousin or two that enjoy the craft.  


But it wasn’t until my adulthood shepherd days that I began to crave wool.  It was given to me as gifts and soon I began purchasing the expensive stuff on my own. Thus the desire for a spinning wheel. 

I am blessed to have married into a family of gift-gives and soon was overwhelmed with an Ashford travelier. It is beautifully made of wood and I enjoyed finishing the wheel with some nice poly-red oak finish.  Finishing wood is another story to tell.

My first project became a hat and fingerless gloves. While my first fully carded wool from self to finish became a hat that I gave away to one of my sisters.  I made another for myself soon after.  With our bitter Dakota winter winds a woo garment or two is a nescessity.  The hat or the turtle is the easiest project for homespun yarn as my spinning hasn’t been perfected yet and those objects call for the smaller amounts of yarn that my efforts produce. 

There are many crafts that involve the use of string. But in my humble opinion if it’s string that it must be yarn. Although I  have even learned to crochet with doily thread, but I never do just that. The tiny detail requires rest time for the eyes. Having some bulky yarn handy to do an easy crochet project gives relief to the eyes but keeps the fidgeting fingers pussy  My daughter once said that I was a “lazy”crocheter.  So I proved her wrong by challenging myself with new patterns every once in awhile. 

My ball of string is endless on this topic.  It’s like the beginning chain stitch that knows no other, going on until one runs out of the skein. That won’t happen anytime soon. As long as I have wool, the tools to spin some yarn, and the ability to look up new patterns the craft lives on.