The Life and Times of Florence Knitingale

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Okay, Where Was I?

These days, that could mean anything from "what was I telling you about before the petty irritations of getting dressed and earning a living somehow popped their nasty little heads up AGAIN (I went to work YESTERDAY! What am I--a slave?)?" to "I have no idea why I came in here or what I wanted or what I was doing to lead me here but I hope I figure it out soon...and I hope it involved cookies." This aging thing sucks.

This time, I think it means the first one, the what was I telling you about thing. ANYHOW. First things first--the newest batch of squares:


I carefully named these photos in my files--the top one as "josquares" (from Jo in England) and the bottom as "patsquares" (from Pat in England)so I would remember which was which. What this most likely means is that I got it completely bassackwards, even with the envelopes in front of me (and three of them with tags on them) and if so, feel free to correct me. And come beat me viciously about the head and shoulders with a skein of cashmere. Bring it on--I deserve it. No really, I can take it.

Take a close look at the bottom picture. It didn't pick up as well as I'd hoped in the photo, but Pat (if indeed it was Pat) worked this really lovely leaf pattern into the corner of the square and I'm just dying to know how she did it. WAY cool.

Next things next: I've saved every envelope you guys have sent me squares in, so I spread them out on the floor and got Gracie to come pick a couple for me (the first two she touched won). She apparently feels that Dianne in VA should receive the batch of milk-chocolate topped toffee bars I made on Sunday and tossed in the freezer (a dozen headed your way, Sweetie) and that Sarah Burrows in Oxford should get the Koigu (I'll wing it your way, Love) that was, coincidentally, donated by Dianne. Gracie has a real need to find order in the universe, apparently. I'll get these wrapped and to the post office this weekend. Thanks you guys, and Dianne--if you're diabetic or allergic or hate cookies or whatever, sing out soon. We can figure something else out.

Speaking of Gracie (which I was), she and the other little beasts have invented some new games and activities to keep them occupied in the long fall/winter months. The first, played with great intensity last night, is called "Let's Make the Hairless Couch Monkey Scream". It's accomplished by locating a large, hooved spider (I have no idea what kind they are, but I swear by all my sock yarn that they're as big as my craving for wool and they seriously look like they have little hooves), and then chasing it around the living room. It is apparently quite important while playing this game that you don't accidentally kill the spider--if you do, the couch monkey won't scream. Much.

Another facet of this game is the importance of chasing the spider directly at the thumbed one, because she apparently thinks that it is carrying some sort of deadly weapon and will shriek in a satisfying fashion. The faster it runs, the more she screams. There is no fatigue factor, here. She will scream as loud with the 10th one as she does with the first. Sometimes louder, depending on whether or not you can get it to run across her foot.

Another enjoyable winter game was invented by Miss. This involves waiting until the couch monkey is firmly situated on the couch (her natural habitat, after all) with a huge blanket of squares on her lap which she is finishing. The first step is to go lay down on the blanket. Then, roll sideways until you appear to be nothing so much as a weeble gone bad and gaze up happily. Purr. The hairless one will attempt to shift you--don't go for it. Dig the claws firmly into the blanket. This will elicit horrified shrieks. (Cats are somewhat one-note when it comes to games. If it leads to food or screaming on the part of the thumbed ones, it's a good enough game.) Wait until the human gives up and starts petting you, muttering as she does about the cost of having a handknit blanket cleaned of cat hair. Then begin to knead happily and deeply. With all claws. When the screaming starts, you can either play "I don't have any idea what you're making all that noise for, but I love you" while rubbing head firmly against thumbed hand, or you can leap terrified from the lap with claws still stuck in the blankie. This last maneuver may even elicit gentle weeping.

Gussie is, of course, a simpler creature. She likes the heatvent game, wherein she somehow manages to contort her lithe, meezer self into a hairy rectangle the precise size and shape of the heatvent. She then lies on it through several furnace cycles, until the skin on her belly gets dry and she can shed maximum amounts of hair onto anything light colored or intended for someone else or both. Such as blankets. I love cats, I do.

Oh, and Ed is very fond of the squares game. This involves waiting until the houseape is carefully laying wooly squares on the floor in hopes of creating a pleasing arrangement, and then wandering casually by and snagging one of them to toss across the room. Or rolling in the middle of them and sending them flying. Or just batting them one at a time while my patience ticks down and then rubbing his nose firmly against my face at the exact moment that I would have shoved his handsome little rear end outside. Note the "would have". I'm such a pushover.

I'm going back to the wooly squares, and to lift Gussie off the heatvent before all the hair falls off of her and I can use her as a mobile dry erase board and have to hang a dry erase marker around her neck.

Oh, and no worries to those of you who mentioned trying to rush more squares in before the cut off. I still need 65 squares and am only too happy to take extras and try to make 3 more blankets for the families of the rescuers who were killed. Or for the homeless shelter. Or whatever. I won't cut you off, I promise. Bury me in squares. I'm totally good with that.

(By the way, did I mention how cool it is to join the squares, and know that I'm handling the very squares that you labored over? It's kind of like sitting together and making these blankets in a group. I'm weird like that. And in so many other ways....)

6 Comments:

  • At 8:18 PM, Anonymous Jill said…

    Wow! I'm absolutely amazed to see what knitters can pull off. Have you seen Sugar Bunny Boulevard?

    http://specialstuff.typepad.com/sugar_bunny_boulevard/

    Are you looking for 100% wool squares? I'm sure you said somewhere, but I really don't want to go through all of your archives!Is acrylic ok? I have a ton of acrylic that I'm using for the squares for my animal shelter squares.

    Keep up the fab work!!

     
  • At 11:26 PM, Anonymous angie Cox said…

    Ah now I get it ..more than one blanket . I thought it would be enormous so was a sort of hanging on the wall memorial . In England unions famously had these banners that were a sort of patchwork /applique .

     
  • At 7:40 AM, Anonymous marti said…

    you totally rock! i found myself at joannes yesterday looking at yarn for this, then just about slapped myself for the stupidity of that one. not like i don't have yarn around my house!

     
  • At 9:55 AM, Blogger Sarah said…

    Hurrah for Gracie - give her a hug from me :o) That first blanket is an awesome sight. Thank you for making this happen.

     
  • At 3:23 PM, Blogger Dianne said…

    I read that one of the Miners that was injured also died..I can't share details because my life has been anything but simple..but I did read this in the local news a few days ago; ALSO...I only break out in hives when I don't have hourly intake of chocolate..lol

     
  • At 6:41 PM, Anonymous MonicaPDX said…

    More lovely squares - whee! And congrats to the winners! I love the random number cat calculator; I think that method should be used for all contests when possible. ;)

    "Couch Monkey and Hooved Spiders." Sounds like a book title to me... [veg] LOL on the various games with the squares, too. Ed's just trying to revive his "pummel the area rug into a cosy nest" game, I'm sure! I mean, flying squares...only dogs play Frisbee. Right?

     

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