Once again I have failed to take photographs in a timely fashion. But rest assured, all of the evil icky nasty snow has melted, and we are back to a typical January in western Washington: 46 degrees and showery, with acres of lovely bright green grass.
And I remembered my fall-back of fall-back plans: the scanner! Last year I bought a replacement printer, the first nice printer I have ever personally owned. It’s just a Brother combo printer/scanner/fax/copier, but gosh it’s so much nicer than my last printer, the Lexmark “Best Printer You Can Buy At Walmart For Under $20″ special.
Unfortunately, my most recently knit sock doesn’t quite fit on the scanner bed, as you can see.
This is more Red Heart “Heart And Sole” sock yarn, but in the “Green Envy” colorway. I like it a lot!
As to Carrie#K’s question about my statement that NewCat is so much more cat-like than I’m accustomed to. One thing is the “love bites.”
If you give NewCat more than, say, three or four pets, or if you pet her further back than the shoulders, she will grab your hand in her little paws and bite with her teeth and KICK KICK KICK with the bunny feet. (Actually, her mouth is so small, it can rarely get purchase. I have learned to tuck my fingers into a fist, so she can’t get at them.)
And when her tail is switching, do not approach!
Also, she is an inconsiderate sleeper. Last night I woke up and she was basically using my face as a chaise lounge. I was lying on my side, and she was propped up on one elbow on my cheek, her backside weighing down my jugular vein, purring to beat the band, doing her best to dislocate my jaw as I slept.
But I don’t mean to make her out as a vicious attack cat. She just gets overwhelmed with emotion. I have also learned that, when she is draped on my shoulder (as she often insists), it’s best to keep my face turned slightly away. Because she drools with happiness, and it sometimes makes her sneeze. Very wet sneezes too, I might add.
Haha. Hahahahaha! I was wondering how New Kitteh was getting on. Bless her heart. Also, nice sock.
OHHH! thank you, very helpful – just figured out what was happening with my giant orange cat and his sneezing, lol!
I didn’t think i’d like the Envy colorway At All … now i’m jealous.
Adjusting from elderly, sedate Gwyndolyn to two-month-old Eleanor and Melvin has been complicated. Gwyndolyn essentially slept 22-23 hours a day, needing maybe five minutes of play with me. The rest of the time she looked out the window, ate, used the box and cuddled. Well, and ten minutes every evening for supplemental fluids. Toward the end, I had to carry her up the stairs every night, and down again in the morning. She didn’t bother my yarn, needles or completed knitting.
Eleanor will play for hours on end. She’s taught us to play Throw — the cat version of Fetch. She suckles on my neck; i’ve learned to sleep through it unless she grooms my ears.
Melvin is a little less energetic. He dances around Eleanor, carries and pounces his favorite toys and digs in the box with astonishing gusto. They both RUN up and down the stairs for fun. Every aspect of knitting is a toy, from the needle-tips to the sock-toes.
Cats have so much personality. It’s a tough adjustment. We don’t realize how much we’ve adjusted to beloved Old Kitty until New Kitty exhibits a whole new set of behaviors.
Thankfully, neither Eleanor nor Melvin drools.
The “overwhelmed with emotion” thing might taper off as NewCat adjusts to being a full-time house cat (she was a laundry room cat before, yes?). When we adopted a cat who had been used as a breeder and not used to much in the way of human contact – she had a very short tolerance for the petting. But over the course of a couple years the time from onset of petting to onset of OVERWHELMED MUST BITE got longer and longer and I can’t even remember now when was the last time she tried to bite me. (excepting, of course, during pill-administration, for which I think biting is a perfectly reasonable response.)
Hey, my son uses my face for a chaise lounge now too. And he drools on me all the time. I feel kinship here.
I have five cats so the stories abound. Another of my brood (Tyler) is a kneading, nursing, drooling, biting behemoth. Seriously. He is morbidly obese. At seven, he still has episodes of OMB (Overwhelmed Must Bite). He and his littermate Blue (also mine) were orphaned as young kittens before weaning age, so I fostered them (and wound up with them). His brother Blue is much more well-adjusted and plays Throw as well, and does not knead, nurse, drool or bite. Cats are weird.