... is kind of like when I said on the blog that I was ready to have a baby and everyone jumped in with all these weird suggestions for things I could do that might bring on labor.
I half suspect it's a conspiracy among blog readers to see what they can get other people to do by sheer force of commentary.
Yes, we have used cat litter lying around. And the Fool is not as shy about "watering" the yard as some might think. Any more ideas for things we can do in the yard to cement our neighborhood reputation? Eh?
(A side note: My father had a long history of peeing in the yard, much to my mother's embarrassment. We have a really secluded house and yard - it's on a couple of acres, and when the trees are in full leaf, you cannot see the house from the road - but she was still worried that someone would drive by and see. I always thought it was one of those things fathers do to drive their teenage daughters to a premature grave. I expect, with two acres of yard to work in, he saw it as a time-saving measure, plus his birthright as a guy. So when we moved in, I kept telling the Fool that my family had a long history of peeing in the yard - it would keep other fiddlers out, it would prevent the neighborhood dogs from stopping by, it would tell the wildlife who was boss, all sorts of crazy reasons, just to yank his chain. He steadfastly refused, until he read in the Rodale composting book that it would activate the compost heap, and then, whoa Nelly, it was my father all over again.)
Yesterday, Angus told me that there was something interesting on the front deck. I looked out, and it was one of the weegees, getting even bolder. Getting into the garden isn't good enough, it seems. (Speaking of which, the zucchini and squash are up, so is either the swiss chard or broccoli raab. I did not buy row markers, and will have to wait until it gets bigger to see what it is. It's too organized to be weeds.)
Anyway, the woodchucks are giving me time to knit.
I like to think of this as my Provencal dishcloth.
I have some friends who just finished an especially arduous move from an apartment to a house that included the following stress-inducing elements: two weeks in an extended stay hotel suite with the entire family and all the pets; a moving company that went out of business and neglected to tell them; a title company that waited until the last possible minute to provide any of its documentation, thus nearly giving people heart attacks as they got certified checks with 15 minutes to spare before the bank closed, and causing the delivery of the house keys to be held up until the end of the business day on a Friday ... anyway, I feel like one artistically knitted dishcloth just isn't enough and maybe I should wrap it around a big bottle of wine before I send it off. But it was a lot of fun to knit, even though I haven't figured out how to finish it. The pattern says to Kitchener, but I should have used a provisional cast-on if I wanted to do that. I got the pattern off Ravelry.
Icarus, fully unfurled.
Attempted detail shot of the edge. There are beads there, I swear.
And now off to the Despot for a screen repair kit. Someone with claws tore a hole in the screen last night and the Fool has declared there will be no opening of the sliding glass door for ventilation until the bug ingress is closed.
Someone tell me this counts as a fiber craft - I would really rather be knitting or playing with quilt fabric or ... yeah.