Yes, I Am Quite Superior...

95 As a 1930s wife, I am Very Superior Take the test!

I took this yesterday and got an 89. I took it today and got a 95.

It's Done!

For some reason, I can't get the picture to rotate the right way, but if one tilts one's head to the left, one can see that it is indeed a complete sweater-clean, dry, and with buttons. It's no longer in my house, but in the possession of the woman I knitted it for. I don't think it turned out bad at all. I hope it wears well and is enjoyed.



Our new dog Vandie is settling in. It amazes me that Boxers ever got a "tough" reputation and that not many people know how genuinely sweet they are with families. Descended from the extinct Bullenbeisser and the English Bulldog, their "jobs" have included attack dog, messenger, guard dog, and military dog. That's a bad-assed dog, right? Well, I don't know...

She's asleep in this picture. Ione didn't put her there. Vandie climbed into her lap and conked out. It doesn't surprise me that she's wonderful with the kids. Patient as the day is long, tolerant of the noisy household and activity, forgiving of stumbling kids and adults who might trip over her, Vandie is all about the family and getting in the middle of everyone. She hits herself in the face frequently with her wagging tail (her previous folks didn't dock it when she was a pup) and we usually have to carry her to her crate at night. It's not easy to hoist a 40 pound dog. Having her in our home is really exciting. She's very young, a puppy actually. We have a lot of years with this dog ahead of us; hopefully only a small portion of which will be spent smoothing her few rough edges, and the rest spent learning and playing. She's an awesome dog!

It's a Boxer!

Her name is Vandie:

I believe that peanut butter was invented for the sole purpose of making dogs look silly.

Vandie was adopted from Blue Ridge Boxer Rescue. I am absolutely amazed at the efforts, efficiency and generosity of the people who run this organization. We sent in our application a couple of months ago, and although it took a while for the ball to get rolling, once it did things went really fast. Ione and I rode down to Fayetteville, NC this weekend and picked her up.

Things are going well, so far. Vandie is a beautiful Boxer, with a brilliant underbite and a smooshy face. Her big dog energy is a change from my small dogs, who are in fifth gear all the time. Max and Maisy are right on everything, from going out to pee to having a cookie. Vandie takes her time and ponders things. I really didn't realize how much I'd missed having a Boxer in the house.

The cats aren't overly happy, and Vandie is very "curious" about them. Max is fine with her; he's tried to hump her a few times, but most he's oblivious. Maisy is going back and forth between being ridiculously submissive and mortally offended. I'm not quite sure what that's all about. I've had Maisy since she was eight weeks old. She's been loved, fed, given toys, and cared for diligently. One would think that she would be extremely well adjusted. Leave it to me to pick out a bi-polar puppy, though. We're into Day 3, though, and already things are better. As long as I keep them all tired, we're A-OK.

But I'm exhausted. It occurred to me that I really don't like those first few transitional days with a new pet. I get PPD: Post Pet Depression. It's the same whether it's a cat, puppy, or a full grown dog. When I got Moses and Buster, I was happy to have them, but miserable at the same time, until we fell into a routine. The first few days with Maisy were awful. The lack of sleep, the over-excitement of the kids, and the household disruption involved in puppy training all took a toll. It was the same with Max, minus the housetraining as he was full grown. Come to think of it, I don't like the first few days home adjusting to a new human baby, either. I always feel out-of-sorts and foreign, and very overwhelmed. It's a strange thing since I have a houseful; you'd think that I would have figured it out before now.

So, days will pass and we'll all get used to each other in our own good time. Vandie will find her place in our home and we'll love her even more than we do now, if that's possible. John will meet her (he's underway...) and he'll have a great running buddy.

I have a full house.

Oh God, Will It Never End?

I am still plowing away doggedly at a sweater that I started last month. (I think it was last month...I tell myself that, but I really think I started it in April. Or maybe March. I will always say that I started this sweater last month because it's taking so long to knit that I can't bear to think how much time I've devoted to it.)
It's a barter sweater; in exchange for a spinning wheel that a friend no longer wanted, I am knitting said friend a sweater. Easy, right? Just a simple v-neck cardigan; piece of cake. I'm almost done. There are even buttons in a bag waiting to be sewn on. That is, if I ever get the button bands on the sweater. My goal was to be done last night (Sunday, June 2). I was plowing away and had finished one band. I held it up triumphantly, and realized that the whole band was short and drawn up, causing the sweater to gather along the front edge. Picture, if you will, a sweater that fits fine and is the proper length in back, but is gathered up over the belly button in front. That's what happened. I have gauge; I followed the directions to the letter. I don't know what happened. There is no picture to document this grim outcome, as I immediately ripped the whole thing back. I now have to start again, this time with a larger needle. Maybe if I hide in the closet with a rag and a bottle of ether for a while, this won't seem so bad.
Don't get me wrong; I love the sweater. I love the spinning wheel that I knitting in exchange for. The woman I am trading with is delightful in every way. I swear to all that is good in this world, though, if it doesn't fit, I'm giving the wheel back. I can't knit this project again. (That sound is my head banging against my kitchen counter.)

Hide Your Knives Part Deux...

A threat from my emotionally disturbed child:

Apparently it's a plea for a wholesome breakfast:

I guess I'll have to work on that.
Said disturbed child getting a massage from Sylvia. Reason 124,469 to have a cat: bitchin' backrubs.

Knitting Progress...

I will never *not* have an easy pair of socks on the needles again. There have been at least five occasions over the last week or so when I've needed something tiny to work on. It's a good excuse to always be buying sock yarn, so it's a win-win for me. These socks are being knitted in Cherry Tree Hill Super Sock in the "Cabin Fever" colorway. It's the first time I've used Cherry Tree Hill. The color is amazing; much more complex than the picture shows; it's reds, pink, purple, gold and brown. Just gorgeous.
Melissa's sweater in progress. It looks like a "hot mess", but I'm really happy with the way it's coming along. The end is in sight; I've got to do the ribbing at the botton, knit the sleeves, do the button bands and the collar. It sounds like more work than it actually is. Just having the body done makes my heart sing.

Mother's Day present from John: Knit Picks Options in Harmony Wood, plus the Harmony sock set. The man knows how to shop, and I am a happy, happy girl. Not a great picture, but a lovely model who doesn't mind me making him look like a fool as long as he can just hang out on the bed with me. I'll post more about my Mother's Day when I have more mental energy.

Because I'm just too tired to give a damn anymore...

I'm playing "refrigerator tag"! Melina, Shez, and Lydia are playing, too. They probably have me beaten on the cleanliness factor, but I have consumed a Fat Weasel beer and I really don't care. Here's my lurvly fridge with an enchanting model and an amusing dog:


Lacking cabinet and counter space, I have many things piled on top of my fridge- the most exciting of which is the Rubbermaid full of meal worm beetles that Gwyneth is "growing" for the S.P.C.A. Four kids, plus the dogs and cats aren't enough; I have to have bugs in my house, too. My fridge is always at it's most frightening when it's time to go grocery shopping. You can tell we need to shop. There is much gone-by produce, several mold cultures, and some frostbitten items.




Max is always on the search for something smelly and good, but alas, he is too short to reach the copius supply of leftovers.


As an added bonus, I am showing off my exciting magnet collection. I am a "Napoleon Dynamite" fan, and also a huge "Wizard of Oz" freak. (Note the fact that I have two Cairn Terriers.) I'm especially proud of my very expensive "Gay Bill and Gay Al" magnet. A girl has to have a little fun, you know.




I just hope there is never a "What's in your closet right now?" blog tag. Ugh.