A Red-Letter Day

For several reasons, actually.

First, for Harold. About twice a year, he gets a new ... piece of plastic! Ta-da!

No, seriously, he practically peed his pants* waiting for me to get the shower curtain liner out of its bag, because he loves these bags. Do you know the kind I mean: clear plastic, kind of heavy or thick? He has a plastic fetish, have I mentioned that before? So he will bite the edge of the shower curtain, for example, and sometimes the plastic wrapping that the toilet paper rolls come in, but his absolute no question favorite is the bag that the shower curtain comes in.

*No, he's not really wearing pants. Not today, anyway. But he did achieve audible mewing, which is a big deal for him. He was a runt, and he's a very quiet cat. Which makes up somewhat for Pan, the noisy boy.

He actually kills these bags off faster than I change the shower curtain. He bites and bites and bites around the edge until I have to cut parts of the edge off because they're about to disintegrate. I already threw out the old one, but once he gets this one broken in, I'll see if I can capture the effect with the camera. Last time he needed one, I went out and bought a new one before its time, just so he could have the bag. Spoiled, much?

Another reason this is a red-letter day is that I have tomorrow off. Thus, 50% more weekend! It's giving my Sunday a lovely unrushed feel. Didn't get to the laundry? No problem, I'll just do it tomorrow. I've been spending a lot of time giving cats laps, which is only partly my laziness. They get so velcro-y when I've been away, and need lots of reassurance. I said to a friend yesterday that after I take a trip, Pan doesn't really trust me, and she looked at him on my lap and said it looked like he trusted me. I said no, he doesn't trust me not to leave him again, so he prefers to have me pinned down. He's also been throwing up a bit today, which worries me. It's probably nothing, of course, but given his heart condition, most things he does worry me somewhat. I have to balance the possible seriousness of the behavior with the known trauma of going to the vet, which is tough to balance. It's hard to be a parent, isn't it?

Now, to not end on that downer, who'd like some knitting content?

Because yes, I have been knitting. I've almost finished the gray mittens I started after the rainbow ones. I'm on the last thumb, and maybe I'll finish that tonight, but I also started a baby blanket for a friend (or, more correctly, a friend's baby-to-be), so the allure of the new project may win out. You know how that is. Little fiddly bit to finish something, or mysterious pull of shiny and new? Well. Anyway, I will finish that thumb soon, but. Soon may not be tonight.

I knit almost a whole mitten last Friday night, between the airport and the plane. Did I mention my flight out left over three hours late? Yup. Not, thankfully, that I was sitting on a plane that whole time: the incoming plane was late. Why, I don't know, but it meant I could wander around the terminal instead of being cramped in the little seat all that time. While I was sitting and knitting, a woman going by walked across to me, smiling, and told me that it was a long time since she had seen anyone knitting like I do (i.e., continental), which is the way she knits. I told her that my Norwegian grandmother taught me, and she said she was German. It was a nice little moment.

I had a three-quarter done mitten when I got to the airport, and a complete mitten and a three-quarter done one when I got to Florida. I only knit a little while I was there, having much relaxing and hanging out to do, plus it was warm, which was less knit-inducing for me.

Ahh, Florida. Already it seems like a million years ago. My face started peeling almost as soon as I got home, but that seems mostly done now. If I didn't see tanned arms when I get dressed, I might think it was a dream.