It has been a busy week. Lots of weaving, school pictures, grocery days, doctors, guild meeting, and more weaving. And, of course, the normal insanity of parenthood, marriage, and pet slavery.
Don’t get offended at “pet slavery”! I don’t mean that the pets are slaves, but that the humans in the house are slaves to the pets! It’s true, if you think about it. Consider this: most pets, the ones with good slaves, have very little they have to do in life. They eat, sleep, use the bathroom, and are cute and lovable, and in return, the human slave pays for their room and board, shares the majority of the bed, and covers their medical expenses from birth until they cross the Bridge, and the slave does this gladly. If your human child attempted to get through life that way, the human parent, after a certain age and amount of frustration, will boot the human child out into the world to get a job and support his/herself. That being said, there is no such thing as a dumb animal. Dumb humans, certainly, but not dumb animals. Or at least, not entirely dumb.
Bandit, one of our Labrador sisters, is not the brightest crayon in the box. Her brain never matured beyond puppyhood. She and her sister Smoky will be nine this year. In dog lexicon, they are senior citizens now, but Bandit doesn’t know that, and she is a canine Houdini. She has gotten out of the backyard twice recently, and we have not yet figured out how she is doing it.
We have an odd property. It faces two streets, meaning that if it faced one way it would have one address, and in the exact opposite direction it would have a different one. This wouldn’t be unusual if this were a corner house, but it isn’t. Our front yard is on one street, and the backyard is on another. The back is divided into two parts. The front half, closest to the house, is where the dogs spend their days when they refuse to come in. The back half is separated from the main drag by the sidewalk. We don’t use that part of the yard because it has a very steep slope and we don’t want anyone (read: children) to break their necks back there. Both parts of the yard are surrounded by six foot wooden fences. There are no holes either under or in the fences. There are no hand, foot, or paw holds. Yet Bandit has gotten out twice. Whatever it is that she’s doing to get out, it has to be something that the other three aren’t capable of…or are too smart to try!
It’s nervewracking when she does this. The street the backyard runs along is not a residential street. It’s six lanes of 45mph traffic. Fortunately, this is one of the top ten most pet-friendly cities in this country. Bandit and all her fur-siblings have three tags on their collars: the requisite rabies tag, a tag with name and address, and the Get Me Home tag from Merial. Next on the agenda is microchipping!
I took River with me to the guild meeting. It was nice to be able to weave wherever I want, and of course, many people thought she was just adorable. I even participated in the show and tell this time. I brought the black sampler of the weaves from the Weaver’s Idea Book, the table runner-slash-mat, and the inkle pouch with the gusset. I hate public speaking, no matter how small the forum. I’m never comfortable, but my little presentation was well received! That felt good, but it was as nerve-jangling as Bandit’s escapes!
Oh! I bought a new reed for River from Green Valley Weavers and Knitters, since she’s been my buddy lately. The new one is a ten dent reed, for finer yarn. When I can, I will also get her the twelve dent reed, but they didn’t have any in stock the other day. And naturally, I couldn’t just leave with the one item I had ostensibly gone for. Nooooo, I had to wander around and buy yarn, and I also broke down and bought knitting needles. I know, I know…it’s not my favorite fiber art, although I do know the basics, thanks to my mom, who was an avid knitter. It’s just so sssssllllllloooooooowwwww! I don’t have the patience for it. If I crocheted for the same amount of time as knitting, the resulting fabric is generally several times larger. I have admiration for those who have the patience to knit entire garments. I can only make it through a scarf if I force myself. It’s been so many years since I tried, though, that I decided to give it a shot again. Funny, I hadn’t forgotten a thing, and it makes me wish Mom were still here to share it with. Enjoy your parents while you have them. It never lasts as long as you’d like.
On a less depressing note, I am still playing with the Weaver’s Idea Book. With the new reed, I decided to try the Log Cabin design. It isn’t working out the way I’d hoped, so I’m going to have to figure out what I did wrong. It’s still pretty, but it is most definitely not Log Cabin!