kmkat and her kneedles

Saturday: frolicking and fitting, tra la.

ETA: There is a non-workplace-suitable photo at the end of this post. Be warned!

One of my duties as a county supervisor is to be the county representative on the two lake associations located in my district. One is my own lake association. Today was the annual meeting and picnic of the other, above. This lake is quite a bit larger than ours, and the crowd visibly wealthier. That woman in the center front in the denim cutoffs and dark gray shirt is a former Twin City anchorwoman who went on to CNN. Elsewhere in the crowd is a well-known Twin City radio announcer, now retired, who was one-half of a popular morning drive-time show for many years. There were well-to-do businessmen and attorneys, trophy wives and doctors (probably; I did not meet any personally). All nice enough people, but definitely a different crowd than that on my own little lake.

Speaking of my lake, let me show you our Fourth of July boat parade. It is a casual affair.

There were a couple other pontoons, but it is always a small parade. Small lake, small parade.

The last photo made me chuckle in a wicked manner. The guy in the canoe is a freshman at Purdue; the pontoon belongs to his lake-dwelling grandparents and is full of his friends. Unfortunately for them, the DNR had a warden on our little lake that day and every one of those kids got a $200 ticket for not having a flotation device. Oops.

* * * * *

One the knitting front, I bought myself a new toy: an adjustable dress form. I have wanted one for a number of years, and the sweater I am making was the trigger that sent me to eBay last week to buy one.

Here it is, hard at work modeling the Summer Raglan (notice how cleverly I matched the stitch markers to the yarn):

You might wonder why it is wearing a bra. Good question; let me explain the ways of adjustable dress forms.

An adjustable dress form is adjustable in length and girth, but only in an overall way. My own particular body bits are distributed rather differently than is represented by the dummy. (No remarks, please.) For example, when I expanded the bust line to be the same circumference as mine, it was obvious that, um, er, something wasn't right. The majority of my bust line girth is in front, not distributed as evenly around my body as it is on the form. This necessitated some improvisation on my part to make the dummy resemble me more closely. Once again, no remarks, please.

Thus, the bra and its *amplifications*:

Yup. Stuffed with plastic bags. I first thought of using a couple breast prostheses, but a quick check on eBay revealed they cost more than I wanted to pay, like, $50. Not worth it, no matter how realistic they are. Hence, the plastic bag boobs. Yay, me!

* * * * *

As Chris suggested I applied my google fu to yesterday's snapping turtle question and discovered that they mate from April to November and lay eggs from May to October. Those periods of mating and egg-laying are shorter here in the Great Frozen North, but I guess my question is answered. They mate whenever the the spirit moves them and the temperature is warmer than, say, 50 degrees, and then they lay their eggs. There. Now we know.

Turtle love, v. 2008: at it again.

Remember last year? They are doin' it again.

As you can see, our dock and boat still languish on the shore, so this year's turtle pørn photos were taken from the porch. Not as good.

A seemingly odd thing just occurred to me. Three or four weeks ago a female snapper laid her eggs at the head of our driveway. The eggs did not survive more than a day or two before some predator (raccoon? skunk? badger?) dug them up and feasted upon them. So, my  question is, do turtles mate in late June/early July and wait a year to lay their eggs? Or is this mating the second try? Inquiring minds want to know.

 

Waiting.

Waiting is hard.

Time passes so slowly when one is waiting.

It helps if you have a friend or two to keep you company.

Even then, impatience can cause one to attempt to hurry things along.

So we wait.

And eventually...

something happens.

Mr. Goldfinch has found the new feeder! He helps himself,

and, being the generous and caring bird that he is, tells a friend.

We are still waiting for these two to invite the rest of their friends and relations.

I have had up to eleven goldfinches at one time on my original feeder. But when that one bit the dust -- those hungry little birds pecked the holes so much that after fifteen years the openings were big enough for the thistle seed to fall out -- I got another. It was very pretty, with a copper top and matching bands around the holes to protect them. But it proved to have a very poor design, indeed. It had a seam on each side of the clear plastic tube; in a short time the seams split open just enough for the seed to get wet and nasty. The poor finches would land on it, sniff, then turn around and give me a dirty look through the window. After an embarrassingly long time I got the message.

Now everyone is happy.

* * * * *

Knitting continues on the Summer Chevron sweater. I worked on it all last weekend and every spare minute since then. You may remember that it is knit top down in the round, starting with a cast-on at the neck and increasing from there. Increasing 8 stitches every other round quickly leads to a lot of stitches. There are upwards of 450 stitches on the needle now, and visible progress is slow. So far it seems to fit, but the real test won't come for another 6-8". Which would make it twice as long as it is right now, so it will be awhile...

Eye candy Friday.

This fine fellow visited my deck one day last week.

Orioles tend to be rather shy -- or scarce -- so it was amazing to me to see this guy. He was awfully obliging to pose for me so willingly.

* * * * *

We are heading out today to go camping on the North Shore (that's the north shore of Lake Superior for those of you not of the MN/WI variety). The weather forecast is cool, rainy, possibly stormy for Friday; slightly better for Saturday; a bit better for Sunday; and totally sunny and warm for Monday. Isn't that always the way? But we will be staying until Monday so we will get to enjoy a little bit of the good weather.

If all our plans had come together properly we would be back in the Little Big Horn mountains near Buffalo, Wyoming right now. It was going to be a 150% family camping trip: Andrew's friend K, whom he met when she came to Chiapas last January for the women's encueñtro and who lives in northern California, was going to meet up with us there; and Maggie, Matthew's girlfriend, was going to come along, too. It would have been 2 weeks of knitting (for me), reading (for me and Andrew and K and Maggie), leisurely walks (for all), and hanging out together (ditto). But various bits of life got in the way and suddenly it was going to be just Smokey and I. Okay, fine, we would still have a good time.

But the long term weather forecast for northern WY did not look good -- chilly, with a side of cold -- so we decided to take our vacation here at home on a lake in northern Wisconsin, a locale that many people drive hours to reach in order that they may vacation here. This weekend camping trip is our last chance to hit the woods with our entire family plus Maggie before Andrew leaves for medical school in New York. I've stocked up on snack food:

Dried fruit, crackers, cheese, granola bars, granola, trail mix, Cheetos, corn chips... and a bottle of Herding Cats wine, product of South Africa :-) Should be a fun time...

Spring, part deux.

The rites of spring include kitties in the window,

   

turtles sunning on a log,

 

and the ritual burning of the Christmas wreath.

I stepped in

To a burning ring of fire.

It went round, round, round,

And the flames went higher.

And it burns, burns, burns

The ring of fire,

The ring of fire.

Well. That was fun.

* * * * *

Dramatis personae included:

• Maggie of the matches.
• Andrew of the daring fire handling.
• Matthew of the warming hands (displaying his new watch).
• Kat of the camera.

Spring comes to the north woods.

May 13, 2008.

May 14, 2008:

May 16, 2008:

May 18, 2008:

May 20, 2008:

...and it's about damned time.

For the non-naturalists among you, those are trillium (T. grandiflorum), trillium, trillium, elderberry (Sambucus canadensis), trillium, and -- you guessed it! -- more trillium, this time with a tiny side of violets (the blurry purple blotches at back right).

The trillium are fading now.

June 1, 2008.

The white flowers turn pinkish-mauve as they fade.

The purple violets are largely done, but now we have yellow flowers.

Yes, dandelions, of course, but what I really meant were the tiny yellow violets at the left.

Tomorrow we examine some other aspects of spring. Class dismissed.

* * * * *

I took all these photos in the narrowish band of woods between our house and our neighbors'. If you look very, very closely at the upper left corner of the fifth photo you can see a tiny bit of our neighbor's green LP tank; at the upper right you can see some of his house, happily painted a low-key shade of light brown. I hate it when someone plants a suburban-looking house in the woods and paints it blue or yellow or pink.

This area of woods is carpeted in trillium every spring, and every year it delights me anew. The woods on the other side of the house are more predominantly coniferous (if I were a really good blogger I would go out there right now and identify those conifers. Sorry, too lazy.) and are not good trillium habitat.  But there are largish swatches of forest that I pass every time I drive into town to pick up a gallon of milk or a book at the library or even to go to crunch some tax forms in The Big City. And I feel so, so lucky to live here every time I do that.

Ready to start your Tuesday with a smile?

First up, some Cute Overload. You will find some interspecies snorgling -- kitties, puppies, bunnies. Cuteness abounding.

* * * * *

Next.

Last week our senior dog, Bear, had surgery to remove a tumor on her right hind leg. I was worried about her; she is something like 13 years old and the vet said they would do the surgery under general anesthesia. I dreamed about it the night before, and in my dream she died.

Happily, I have never had any semblance of foreknowledge nor ESP nor any of that woo-woo stuff. She came through the surgery with flying colors and continues to do fine. Amazingly, she seems to be walking better, trotting up and down the stairs much more easily than before. The incision looks great, even though we were woefully negligent in applying triple antibiotic ointment to it. Giving her the oral antibiotics 2x/day? Forget it; we are lame.

But we noticed that she was licking the incision on her first day home, and we were worried she might try to chew out the stitches. So we did what the vet recommended: we put shorts on her. Backwards, to allow for the plumy tail.

Needless to say, she didn't wear them long. I found them discarded under her table in my office, where she spends much of her nap time.

But she was one stylish -- albeit silly -- dog for a short while.

Shepherd's Harvest.

The perfect way to spend Mother's Day, imho, is knitting. And if the opportunity presents itself, to do that knitting with others. And if all the stars align perfectly and one has been really, really good, that knitting with others is in a class taught by Annie Modesitt.

Shepherd's Harvest Sheep and Wool Festival happens over the Mother's Day weekend every year at the Washington County fairgrounds, north of St. Paul. I went two years ago and had a blast, bought yarn and more yarn. This year I decided to take an introductory lace class being taught by Annie. Perfect to get my lace mojo into working order.

Saturday it rained, but I planned ahead and registered for the Sunday class. Of course, the class was only offered on Sunday. That just proves the power of my planning and my excellent foreknowledge of the weather.

Sunday was a beautiful day for a drive.

The trees in the St. Croix river valley were just starting to green up.

I knew I was in the right place when I got out of the car and saw this:

Shepherd's Harvest is no Rhinebeck or MDSW or any of those big Right Coast festivals. It's down home and human scaled, a perfect non-stress way to spend a day or two. With my declared Yarn Fast of 2008 in mind, I arranged to arrive at the fairgrounds just in time to have lunch before the class started at 1 pm.

Many others had the same idea about food. To me, this was a long line; from what I read of others' experience at the aforementioned Big-Ass Festivals, this is nothing.

I had a lamb burger, a small tray of veggies with dip, and bottled water. $5.75, reasonable. No pictures of the food -- I didn't want the others seated on my left and right and across the table to realize just how weird we bloggers can be.

A quick run to the rest room before class and I was set. Oh, you would like to see the rest rooms? The stalls were cute.

   

Annie had the Poultry and Rabbit building all to herself for her class.

But the day, although bright and sunny, was windy and quite cool and inside that building it was even colder. So she organized us outside in the sunshine.

There were twelve of us, the perfect number for a class -- small enough to get any individualized help one might need, but large enough that one (me) didn't feel any pressure. And I learned a few things, too.

We all made swatches using a lace pattern from Romantic Knits. The original scarf, which Annie had with her, is knit in light green Tilli Tomas Disco Lights (100% silk, sequined). Try to imagine just how gorgeous it was in the sun with the gleam of the silk and the sparkle of the sequins.

The class ended shortly after 3 and the festival ended at 4, so I thought I was safe from yarn-buying fever. Wrong. I succumbed to the wool, er, cotton and silk fumes. But I'll save showing you my acquisitions for another post. Let's look now at what I saw after I left.

When one is forced to drive one of these (Smokey was using my little car)

one must endure this.

But sometimes one is lucky enough to observe this at the next pump.

Some llamas from the festival were on their way home, too.

I walked over and put my camera between the bars to get an unobstructed picture of one of the pretty faces, but my viewfinder suddenly went black. Another llama had come over to check out the camera, up close and personal-like. That happened every time I tried.

Well, almost every time.

No, that llama is not about to attack me; I caught him (her?) in mid-chew of his/her cud. Check out those eyelashes!

The owner tried to get one of the llamas to demonstrate how it gives her a kiss, but the llama was having none of it. They all were tired of people and tired of being on display. They were ready for a good roll in the grass and some nice quiet *me* time. I guess we can all identify with that.

Raccoons, Macs, and socks

We were entertained one night this week by this fellow. Smokey spotted him while he (Smokey, not the raccoon) was watching the evening news.

Mr. Raccoon had been bathing himself while nestled in the crotch of the tree, but when I came out onto the deck to photograph him he decided he needed to come down.

How does a raccoon come down from a tree? Very carefully.

* * * * *

Andrew found out that he could increase his loan for med school enough to cover a new computer. His old one, a $795 Averatec laptop from Sam's Club, had barely made it through four years of college. This time he wanted a good one. 250GB hard drive, 4GB of RAM, screen the size of a soccer field -- he got what he wanted.

He set it up with the dual boot option so he could also run Windows, which is necessary to play several of his video games. $9.27 to a Guatemalan street vendor scored him this:

which is Windows XP Professional en español. That $9.27 also got him MS Office 97, Windows Vista, and a blank-looking CD that the vendor called el crack and which is supposed to keep Vista working after 30 days. He will only use the XP. Piracy is apparently alive and well.

* * * * *

On a more legitimate note:

I cast on this sock Tuesday evening and knit barely an inch that night. On Wednesday I took it with me to the finance committee meeting and knit most of the leg. I have since turned the heel, knit the foot, and I'm currently decreasing for the toe (which is red; these are fun socks). I'll finish it this afternoon.

Now the kicker: I'm actually knitting these on US #0 needles.

I know, I said that life was too short to knit on zeros. This yarn (Online something or other) is what inspired me. I don't remember exactly where I got it but I'm pretty sure I must have won it because I don't remember buying it. It has been sitting next to my desk since early last winter. (Sitting there because I was too lazy to put it away in the sock yarn box at the bottom of my Tower o' Rubbermaid.) I would look at it and try to figure out how best to knit socks from it fast. My plans were to double-strand it with black. Or turquoise. Or white. Or all three, in stripes.

But last weekend I found myself thinking about knitting it on zeros and adding contrasting heels and toes and cuff. Smokey laughed at me when I said I was excited to try it.

But excitement makes the knitting go faster. I have never knit a  sock this fast, ever. Given the ridiculous weather we are having (40 degrees at the moment), it is possible I may be able to wear them before true spring gets here. 

Knitting fun, kitties, and kontest(s).

Don't panic, you are in the right place. I repainted the walls here at Le Blog du Chat (no, I don't speak French -- how could you tell?) That brownish-orange at the sides is the same color as the walls of my office at home, the home on the lake that I haven't seen ::sob:: in about ten years. The new theme reminds me of home. [/pity party]

* * * * *

A couple weeks ago I joined Chris and Jeanne for their regular Wednesday night knitting. Cursing Mama was there, too, but Deb was home nursing a sick husband. I could tell you about the wine and what everyone was knitting and what we giggled about, but I know what you are all really interested in: kmkat got to meet Chaos! and Mayhem!

Yes, it's true, I did. And I am going to reveal the dark truth about those two famous black felines. They may be extremely fond of Chris, but they have a deep distrust of strangers, even strangers bearing yarn and Addis.

Chaos kept a watchful eye on me from the top of the cat tree.

 

His gaze was the pure definition of baleful.

I swear I got multiple pictures of May, too, but they have mysteriously disappeared from my camera. I think my batteries were failing; or maybe it was May's magical powers of disappearance, I don't know.

When I first arrived, May came to investigate me. Being well-versed in the manners of cats, I held out my hand and let her sniff me thoroughly. Once that ritual was played out, she deigned to let me scratch her under the chin and pet her, much to Chris and Jeanne's surprise. Apparently May is generally not that tolerant of strangers offering affection.

Then I broke the the unwritten rule -- I picked her up. She let me know, albeit very politely and without claws or teeth or any unnecessary violence, really, that she didn't care to be picked up and would I pleasepleaseplease put her down Right Now? So I did.

She was very interested in my knitting and Addis all evening, though. Luckily for me, Chris is attentive to Mayhem's destructive interest in such things (nom, nom! snickety snick! tooth marks on the Addis! yarn now in multiple pieces!) and warned me (repeatedly; I was all oblivious to the danger lurking at my elbow) when she got too close.

* * * * *

 

Awhile back I won one of Jeanne's prizes for knitting preemie caps. She brought these prizerly goodies to our knit night for me. (Not Tabby; she's been mine since 1992.) Jeanne gave me some fine chocolate (yeah, like there is any other kind) and a wonderful Debbie Bliss book. Can you tell which one of those two chocolate wrappers is actually empty? Didn't think so. I'm soooooo sneaky; I opened the milk chocolate one v-e-r-y carefully so I could recreate its original pristine-ness when I could take a photo. Thank you, Jeanne! and thank you for helping me not to break my no-yarn-in-2008 pledge.

* * * * *

Speaking of contests, it's about time for one here, don't you think? Take a gander at this photo and give me a caption. Yes, before you ask, that is Chaos under the ottoman and Chris* with the knitting.

 

Random number generators are fine and good, but for this one I'm gonna go all subjective and judgemental on you and pick the caption that makes me laugh until coffee comes out my nose. I may ask Chris's opinion, or I may not. I'm quirky that way.

You can put your entry in the comments, or, if you don't want any of your own personal inspiration leaking all over the other contestants, you may email it to me privately at antlerkat-typepad AT yahoo DOT com. Deadline is, um, midnight CDT, Friday, March 21. Prize TBD, but it will definitely include something fibery and something chocolatey. And maybe something furry and purring... the winner will just have to wait and be surprised.

*Chris thinks I either should have cropped out her entire face or left it all in. I like to think my half face crop is way oh so artsy-fartsy and creative and gives it a sense of immediacy and stuff. What say y'all?

He's gone.

Andrew flew out 6 am Sunday morning. He was here for three weeks, a week longer than originally planned because he caught a cold and wanted to recover and he was enjoying himself here and he didn't need to get back right away; so he gave up a week of sightseeing in Mexico to spend the time with us instead. Say it with me now: awwwww.

I've told you about our visit to Chicago to visit his aunt and uncle. He also spoke at the local library about the Zapatistas and Chiapas and what he is doing there. The total of nearly 20 people was a very good turnout for our little library.

He will be in Chiapas until mid-April, then home -- or possibly traveling to see friends around the US and the world -- until June, when he goes back to New York to start med [summer] school.

When Andrew was in Chiapas, eating beans and tortillas and on special days rice, he lost a pound every 64 hours for 2-1/2 months. As part of our parental obligation we fed him well while he was home.

Vegetarians, look away. This photo even grosses me out.

From the left, that's three New York strip steaks, four T-bones, and six Porterhouses. Smokey hit a sale on steak at the grocery store, this was all <$6/pound.

Here's how a couple of the Porterhouses looked when grilled.

He said that one of the steaks was at least the equivalent of the amount of meat in the average Chiapan's diet in an entire year. Yeah, we totally used his being home as an excuse to eat huge steaks.

Part of the fun of having steak is that Andrew always makes a huge production out of feeding the fatty scraps to the dogs. They have to work for their treats. First, they must wait politely.

Sometimes he teases the dogs by offering the treat to a cat. Cats, being the cautious types they are, sniff it all over just to be sure we haven't nurtured them and raised them and housed them and paid the vet bills and snuggled them and cleaned their litter boxes all these years just to use this opportunity to poison them.

Bear is an old, old dog. All she has to do to get her treat is to say please. Lucy, however, is required to dance on her hind legs for 10+ seconds and s-t-r-e-t-c-h to get her morsel.

* * * * *

I'll leave you with some of the funny things people said to Andrew in Chiapas.

Do you wear your hair like that because of your religion?

(On seeing a jet plane way up high in the sky) Where is that plane going? Is it going to Mexico [City]?

How fast do planes walk?

(He asked one of his students if he knew what snow was.) Sure, you buy it at the stand in Ocosiningo. It comes in strawberry and orange and mango.

One of the books in the school referred to ice. The students asked what ice was, and Andrew was at a loss to explain it in terms they could understand. Subtropical climate, no electricity, no freezers.

So he is bringing back these pictures -- ice, frozen lake, snow, pontoon boat*, dock.

 

* I told him to tell them that this is the simplest, cheapest, most bare-bones pontoon boat one can find in the US, to which he added, It still cost $2000. That will blow their minds.

Eye candy Friday: the CMUSF edition.

Hannibal does Spidey-Cat, albeit somewhat unwillingly.

The good, the bad, and all the rest.

The good:

 

If you aren't exactly sure why all that is good, check this out:

Yeah, teenagers are good for the heavy lifting snow blowing.

The bad:

My old Palm Zire 22 suffered a cracked screen. eBay to the rescue. $79 from me to a seller with 5,000+ sales and a satisfaction rating of 99.9%. Yay!

Oops.

 

Grrrr. Matthew and I have futzed with this on and off for several days, both with and without the instructions to hand. I guess it's time to fire off an email to the vendor. Time wasted.

The rest:

Actually, the rest is pretty darned good. A package came in the mail. Addressed to Matthew. But he had warned me not to open anything that came from this place. (We are delaying Christmas until later in January when Andrew is home for 2 weeks.)

The package is about 24"x24"x4", is fairly light, and rattles slightly. Not yarn. Whatever could it be? No guesses in the comments, please, I'm keen to be surprised.

More of the rest:

When I went to bed last night I swear there were three preemie hats on this little table next to my chair. This morning, one. The other two seem to have disappeared off the face of the earth.

Golly gosh, whoever could be responsible?

 

Hannibal: Who, me? I've been sleeping on this comforter since October.

En Esch: Who, me? What preemie hats? Erm... quick, look over there! A badger with a gun hat!

...not a creature was stirring...

It was a quiet Christmas. Matthew and I joined my friend Colleen and her friend Alan for a Christmas dinner put on by a local community club. No charge, goodwill offering only. It was held at a lovely, northwood-sy supper club in the next little town south from us. The lady in the Santa hat was in charge. She said they served 140 people.

Ham, stuffing with gravy, steamed mixed veggies, dinner rolls, and homemade cookies and bars(s) for dessert. Just like grandma used to make 'cuz it was Grandma in the kitchen.

See the TV in the bar in the background? Tuned to Channel 45, The Official Fireplace Station Of The Holidays -- all flickering flames, all the time. What was even more amazing was that [I think] the Packers game was being televised. "No, Lenny, we will NOT change the station to The Game. We're having a fireplace on the teevee today."

I saw Mr. S, who was Andrew's history teacher in high school and who commented that he has been reading The Boy's The Young Man's dispatches from Chiapas with interest. Mr. S looked very festive indeed.

After that we came home. Matthew bullied me into letting him open one present. Pink Skullcandy earbuds.

Then he listened to his music and surfed the net, and I listened to an audio book and knitted on his sock.

Hannibal helped. Mmmm, yarn...

Eye candy Friday. Literally.

When I visited my friend Kathy last weekend she was still in the process of emptying their store*, open only during the summer, of perishable merchandise. She told me to take as much candy as I wanted because otherwise it would be thrown away. Mmmmmm, candy...

* * * * *
Some more eye candy from my visit with her. She and her husband live in the woods on a lake. They have a tame deer which they have named Lucy and who has come to their house daily for 2-1/2 years, although only in the winter.

Yes, Lucy comes for the treats.

Notice the Calorimetry and Noro striped scarf Kathy is wearing, above :-)

* Their store is slightly larger than this one:

Catnip by any other name.

What is it with cats and shoes?

Hannibal making love to Smokey's stinky shoes.

Tabby loves Desenex powder-flavored feet and/or shoes. This works out well because I love to have her lick my toes. It tickles.

What turns your cat on?

CSI: Chez Kat.

Like most of us, Bear has her favorite spots around the house in which to relax. These spots tend to follow me around the house, as she considers herself to be My Guardian. If I'm in the laundry room, she is in the laundry room. If I am reading in bed or napping, she is next to the bed, between me and the window. If I am knitting and watching TV, she is blocking drafts from the sliding glass door to the deck and protecting me from anyone who might try to break in. Her strategy seems to be effective: no one has yet managed to break in and attack me.

Since I spend a lot of time at the computer in my office, she tends to spend a lot of time there as well.

A few months ago we noticed that she often lies in the same position in *her spot.* Behold, Princess Brindle Bear of Antler:

See the outline?

 

We wanted to perform some CSI-type tests over time to test our hypothesis that she always lies in the same position in the same spot.

Careful measurement has revealed, however, that although she appears to be in the exact same spot and position, she actually positions herself differently each time.

Paws askew:

Sometimes, in fact, she really mixes it up.

May I present Bear the daredevil:

Livin' on the edge.

More penguin fun.

Sign by the parking area where we left our car while we stalked the mighty penguin with eyeball and camera.

I can has sweet potato. A post for dog lovers.

The funniest and most accurate description of a dog's thought processes ever.

Thanks to my friend Katherine for the link.

New squirrel.

A couple weeks ago I heard the pitter-pat of tiny feet in the storage closets above my laundry/craft room. Autumn is here; time for the outdoor rodentia to move to their winter quarters.

Matthew set the live trap for us and baited it with a nice fresh mushroom. Now we have a second flying squirrel in the cage.

Click on the photo to see a very short video* of how a couple of flying squirrels get acquainted.

There was a fair amount of squawking and squabbling for the first few hours. Smokey had put a second nesting box in the cage so they could stay separated if they chose, but by the time the house cooled down in the evening they were snuggled up in one box. Cold weather makes good bedfellows.

For more background on our flying squirrel menagerie, see this post.

* Okay, the video may only be a few seconds long but somehow QuickTime insists that it has to be >1 meg. At least that is a considerably shorter download than the unedited, uncompressed 68 meg video clip I started with.