I embarked on some tie dyeing the other week -- did shirts and onesies with Thorny, and because I can't help myself, a couple skeins of cotton yarn that are heading elsewhere as a present.
Here's how they came out - I hope the dye set well, or else it's going to be one of those presents with teeth.
I've also been fooling around knitting a sock from a pattern in the Japanese stitch dictionary I got. It's in Lorna's Laces, "Pioneer," and of all the Lorna's Laces I've knit, it's one of my favorite colorways. (When my photo skills forced me to pick between a picture in which the cover of the book is washed out, or a picture in which the stitch pattern is obscured ... I went for the washed out book cover.) I've miscrossed my most recent cable, though, and have to make a decision about whether to continue along despite the mistake or take out two rows of tiny stitches to cross the cable correctly. The whole project's gauge is a little too small for me to do the usual kind of cable-uncrossing voodoo with any confidence.
The cats have been busy, too, unfortunately.
Last night, I stuck my head in the bedroom to see how the Fool was getting along with his painting project, and at what point we might start making dinner (BBQ ribs, baked beans and salad, I hope). Spoot darted in before I could get my foot in position to block her ... and stepped right in the pan of paint.
Panic ensued as we chased the cat (leaving green footprints) through the bedroom, over the bedroom rug (!!), down the hallway and under the marimba, where she finally stood still long enough for one of us to grab her.
Then, about an hour later, Angus, who is usually unflappable, decided to stand on the back of a dining room chair and explore, headfirst, the contents of a Trader Joe's bag (sack of small potatoes, bag of mixed salted nuts). When he realized he was going to fall into the bag, he backed out and up, but slipped and caught his foot in the back of the chair and trapped himself, dangling upside down between two vertical slats. He began shrieking bloody murder, loud enough to make the Fool come running out of the bedroom, (which he had declared a No Cats At All And I'm Still Thinking About the Wife zone.) I tipped the chair sideways so Angus could get his other three feet on the floor, and before I could help him get loose, he pulled free and went scooting downstairs with Spoot. When he came upstairs, we could see he wasn't putting his full weight on his back foot, but he let us pick him up and feel his feet and legs without yelling at us, so we figured he couldn't be too bad off.
A night of rest on his favorite cushions seems to have put him back to normal - he bit me this morning.