kmkat and her kneedles

Sunday and a DST rant.

1. Partner :: spouse.
2. Villain :: bad guy.
3. Signature :: Needles. Duh.
4. Homespun :: yarn. x2.
5. Ultimate :: quest.
6. Don’t! :: do it!
7. Musical :: comedy.
8. Candor :: Voltaire. Oh, wait. That's Candide, right?
9. Terrified :: of rats.
10. Virus :: computer.

* * * * *

I don't want to hear any whining about the daylight savings time change. It's one hour, for crying out loud. It's not like you just flew from Minneapolis to Tokyo and have a fifteen hour time difference to adjust to. It's a one-hour lag, like flying from Minneapolis to Denver.

Get over it.

(Unless you have a really, really stubborn body clock that refuses to adjust easily. Then you have my sympathies.)

* * * * *

And now a little post-Halloween scaring (via the bloggess.com).

* * * * *

On Saturday I went to One Day University at the Minneapolis Convention Center. The lectures I chose to attend were:

• Iran, Israel, and Why The Mideast is Such a Mess. Charles Freilich / Harvard.
• What Would the Founding Fathers Think of America Today? Wendy Schiller / Brown University.
• How The Brain Works: Why We Do What We Do. Marvin Chun / Yale University.
• What Can We Learn From The Ancient Philosophers? Laurence Cooper / Carleton Chris Something-or-other / New Orleans University. (Professor Cooper hurt his back last week and could not attend.)
  

It was fun and interesting and thought-provoking, so much so that I signed up for the next one in Minneapolis, in April. Younger Son is thinking about going with me.

Since I had to be in downtown Mpls at 9:30 am on Saturday, I drove in on Friday to stay overnight, run a few errands and, most importantly, see some of my favorite people* -- the Knit Night Orphans. It was delightful to knit with them again and chat. Don't know when I will be back to do it again but I am already looking forward to it.

A few sights seen along the way:

The post office in Lindstrom, MN, where I stopped to mail my mittens to Adrienne.
Translation, anyone? I don't read or speak Swedish.

 
Yarn bombing observed along Minnehaha Parkway.

* * * * *

And now for something completely different: YS playing keep-away with Percy.

Thirty-nine seconds of doggie delight.

 

* Except for the person in the group who essentially accused an unspecified one of us of stealing two of her knitting books. That was... awkward. Especially when she commented that she had known most of us for over ten years. (Three of us are newcomers, thus apparently more deserving of suspicion. Er...)

 

Sunny Sunday!

1. Poison :: ivy.
2. Las Vegas :: stars.
3. Nanny :: -cam.
4. Tablet :: computer.
5. Trail :: Oregon.
6. Innocent :: trail of the.
7. Invited :: uninvited.
8. Life :: torment.
9. Tormented :: sad.
10. Lousy :: lice.

* * * * *

The red quadrant es finito completo*. It is about 28"x20" (71cm x 40cm).

We all remember that that ruffly white edge at left and bottom is the provisional cast on, right? And that it it ruffly because it is DK weight rather than fingering? So none of us will be distracted by it? Good.

I plan to take a break from the afghan now. By the 28th square I was getting a little tired of it, plus I have committed to some other knitting -- mittens for Adrienne, another dog sweater for Ser Percy, a bit of Christmas knitting, possibly a hat/scarf/mittens for Elder Son's friend Alí. I plan to return to it by Christmas or soon thereafter.

* * * * *

Everyone's favorite pit bull is here again this weekend. As always, he brought Younger Son with him.

That is Lucy at the right, not Matthew.

The Halloween pedi remains more or less intact on Ser Percy. Such a stylish and seasonal dog!

* * * * *

From this morning's email. Smokey sent it to me because of he loves bears and dogs, but you and I should watch closely for the hand knit (?) sweater the man is wearing.

 

* * * * *

Yesterday I brought (gluten-free) brownies to a fund raiser for a woman who is thinking of running for governor next year. If you live in Wisconsin, keep an eye out for her -- Kathleen Vinehout. She is smart, passionate, progressive, and utterly delightful. 

 

 

* Mi español is nowhere near as good as I might like to think. Thank you, Google Translate!

 

Fun with Ser Percy.

Percy thinks he is a lap dog.

 

Ser Percy gets ready for Halloween.

Let's take a closer look at those glam paws, shall we?

It's Sunday!

Mutterings.

1. Untraceable :: Witness Protection Program.
2. Senator :: Humphrey.
3. Humongous :: gigunda.
4. Drinks :: Mai tais.
5. Ringing :: in the ears.
6. Overloaded :: potato.
7. Annoyed :: buzzing.
8. Blondie :: Sunday funnies.
9. Suits :: FBI.
10. Deadly :: serious.

* * * * *

Ser Percival The Energetic is ready for Halloween.

Dah dah, dah dah, dah dah!

* * * * *

We all know that good tools can make any job go more smoothly. Tools can also be toys. Let me show you a couple of Smokey's toy--, er, tools.

This mahogony case (mahogony! for a set of screwdrivers!) lives in a cabinet next to his chair in the living room. Although I probably laughed myself silly when he got this, I cannot tell you how handy it is to always have the right size screwdriver to hand*.

 

 

Here we have the latest toy: a butane-powered soldering iron**. See the flame glowing at the left end? This is the camping soldering iron, for times when there is no electrical hookup. (He often putzes on the car when we are on vacation while I spend my time knitting.)

  * Kinda makes my three (3!) sets of interchangeable needles look reasonable, doesn't it?

** Those of you with Significant Others who are similarly inclined to DIY, do tell them about this little wonder. I predict they will be intrigued.

 

Edited to add: speaking of toys, check out this 2008 photo of ipods.

Some dead, some in use.

 

Sunday, Sunday.

Mutterings.

1. Latch :: door.
2. Standard :: grade.
3. 60 :: percent
4. Maple :: syrup.
5. Final :: exam.
6. Bickering :: The Bickersons.
7. Diner :: eggs.
8. Nasty :: smell.
9. Ohhh! :: Uh oh!
10. Leeches :: bait. Why, yes, I did grow up in Minnesota, where leeches mean only one thing.

* * * * *

I was singing Sunday, Sunday as I began this post.
What a disappointment to remember the correct song title.

* * * * *

We did some tree trimming and forest maintenence last weekend.

Kiera The Teenaged Helper womaned the weed wrench and uprooted unwanted saplings.

Younger Son handled the electric chain saw and did the actual pruning.

Percy took care of the sticks.

 

 

Sorry, no video of Percy and a branch. You will have to be satisfied with this still.

Sunday random (as usual).

First, the weekly mutterings.

1. Weird :: Al (Jankovich).
2. Balance :: ballet.
3. Personal :: best.
4. Reproduction :: copying.
5. Distraction :: ADD.
6. Articulate :: artichoke.
7. Shovel :: grave.
8. Column :: numbers. Hey, I am an accountant, remember?
9. Drastic :: action.
10. Bombastic :: Winston Churchill.

* * * * *

Smokey brought me flowers on Thursday, which I chose to put on my messy desk right by my side.

::sigh::

* * * * *

The patio tomato is thriving. It has some tiny tomatoes that are stubbornly green. We have no idea what kind of tomato it is except that it is growing like a vine tomato rather than a bush type. It had no tag and the person at the greenhouse when we bought it (plants grown by the adult sheltered workshop and cash register staffed by volunteers) knew nothing about it. It was also the only tomato plant to be found.

Mystery tomato plant:

The spearmint makes the deck tremble with its vigor. The cilantro, not so much.

 

En Esch likes it when I am on the deck because then he is protected from the feline-feasting forest monsters that lurk just off screen.

* * * * *

Remember the photo of the many-reds scarf? In case you don't, here is another view:

The amazing thing is that neither this nor the previously blogged photo was tweaked except for cropping. Color is exactly how it came out of the camers. You all know how hard it is to photograph red objets d'knit. Apparently the secret is to have MANY reds.

* * * * *

 How about some Percy pictures? Now with Instagram-type effects!

Stuff On My Dog.

 

"Come in Bravo, this is Dogfort."

 

"Is it time for my ride in the convertible, Papa?"

 

 

 

If it's Sunday, this must be random.

1. Wine :: mmm-more.
2. Hand :: in glove.
3. Bottle :: rocket.
4. Soda :: chocolate.
5. List :: tipping.
6. Thimble :: thumb.
7. Sample :: swatch.
8. Cloth :: fabric.
9. Correspond :: -ent.
10. Taste :: of Minnesota.

Our nasty heat wave broke on Friday. It's very pleasant now. Whew.

When Younger Son is here, Ser Percival The Energetic is here, too. Here he is modeling his new Float Coat.

Ser P is so heavy and solidly built that he cannot swim easily; mostly he just sinks while frantically dog-paddling. The float coat solves that problem. This was its first tryout. Once he realized that he no longer needed to panic, he loved it.

He also loves sticks.

See the remains of that pontoon boat on the hill? It is in the process of being dismantled before going to the recyclers. The pontoons have leaks that are too hard to repair (welding aluminum is possible but not easy). Once it is gone we can put the dock back into the lake and retrieve the new-to-us pontoon boat we bought two years ago. Being semi-disabled has really hindered progress around here the past few years.

YS continues working on the future dog run. Scotty The Wonder Teenager started this project last summer and has continued to work on it, but he is laid up right now with a bad arm, so YS has taken over. The project looks promising to be ready before winter.

:: fist pump!::

Back in 2008 when I had a broken ankle Smokey enclosed a poop yard at the bottom of the deck stairs so I would be able to let the dogs in and out.

The advantage of this system was we didn't need to go outside, down the stairs, put the dog(s) on their tie-outs, then do it all in reverse when they were done. We just had to let them onto the deck -- they knew to go down to the grassy (snowy in winter) fenced-in area.

The disadvantage was that we could not use the deck stairs.

The new dog run will have all the advantages of the poop yard but none of the disadvantages.

This is on the uphill side of the house, an area we never use. Construction requires setting landscape timbers in the ground and attaching the fence panels to them; if you look closely you can see the trenches for the timbers. But the ground slopes downhill toward the camers, hence, the buildup at this end.

The run will be 5'x20'.

But how will the dogs get in there? you ask.

Look carefully at spot on the deck railing indicated by the arrow. The railing between that notch and the house will be eliminated and a ramp from the deck to the ground installed. Once the dog run is completely finished, Smokey -- or more likely, Scotty or YS -- will install a gate at the top of the deck stairs. The dogs will then have only one place to go, down the ramp to their new area. There will be gates at each end of the new run for additional access.

This is a big deal to me. As much as I appreciated being able to let the dogs in and out without having to use the stairs, I also missed access to the front yard from the deck. The construction has been complicated by the mechanics of the slope. Thank FSM for strong young helpers!

Here is a view of the deck you have never seen.

The deck stairs and poop yard are just to the right of the picture; the new dog run is 90˚ to the left.

News flash! YS just emailed me a progress photo!

He reports that from now on the job will be much more straightforward. No more fighting with tree roots and rocks and rocks entwined in tree roots.

If you have made it this far I have a treat for you. If you ever see this brand of pie in the freezer case at your grocers, BUY IT IMMEDIATELY!

We have had three of the blueberry pies in the past few weeks, and they are the best pies I have ever eaten, even better than my mother's (she baked excellent pies but used canned blueberry filling). Thin flaky crust, fresh blueberries, just enough sugar to sweeten the pie but not so much as to overwhelm the blueberry-ness. If we ever get past that flavor -- blueberry pie is my favorite kind -- we will try the apple and cherry. The Village Piemaker's products are Teh Awesome!

 

Dogsitting.

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We took care of our grandson* #2 Son's and BGFE's dog for a week while they are in Louisiana for her grandparents' fiftieth wedding anniversary. Ser Percival The Energetic has been entertaining, to say the least.

He was intent on chewing things when he came -- my sock, Smokey's work glove, my down comforter -- so I bought him a dino bone.

Note the size of the bone; it is longer than my foot.

Percy loves it. Smokey's toes, not so much when they encounters the bone as he walks through the living room. I trip over it, too, but I am always wearing shoes.

Basket of yarn was quickly moved behind a closed door.

He came to us adorned.

Isn't that special?

As I said, he has been entertaining. He wants to play with Lucy, who is ten years his senior. He does the play bow in front of her and sometimes she responds. Mostly she looks askance at this young hooligan and comes over to Smokey for reassurance. We have been encouraging him to -- occasionally -- be calm. Did you know that when you roll a pit bull onto his back -- no easy feat, that -- and stroke his underside, he goes into a trance? Amazing.

He goes into Crazy Percy mode several times a day: he races from one end of the house to the other, does a 180, rinse and repeat ten times interrupted by the occasional play bow in front of Lucy to see if she wants to join in. Which she does not. She was initially annoyed by all this ruckus; now she watches him with bemusement and wonders when her calm and quiet life will return. We stand back, laugh, and envy his energy.

The cats have been scarce since Ser Percy arrived. En Esch, the skittish one, comes out only when I am reading in bed. He peeks over the edge of the bed, sees Percy, and hides until the next night. Hannibal The Fluffball of Doom is not scared of Percy. (Remember, this is the cat that claimed Lucy as His Dog and who regularly walks all over her and washes her face.) He fluffs himself up to twice normal size -- which is pretty darned big -- hisses, and generally acts like the killer he is. Percy barks and even does a play bow, but HtFoD has no interest in play. The standoff lasts a minute or so and always ends with Percy yelping and both of them running away in opposite directions. The yelp sounds like Hannibal gave him a claw in the nose, but Ser P's nose does not appear to have been touched. So far...

First there was this (please excuse crappy iPod photos):

Followed very shortly by this:

As when our boys were young, Smokey is the major disciplinarian. 

Nothing works quite as well as The Daddy Voice.

Fun things to know and tell about a pit bull**:

• Perhaps like all short-haired dogs, they are hot to the touch. All our other animals have had thick fur coats, thus were well-insulated. Percy is like a hot boulder.
• They are hard-bodied. Like I said, a hot boulder. Snuggling him is... interesting.
• #2 Son said that his research on pit bulls said that they have little body awareness; pain does not register well. I suppose that is why they make such good fighting dogs.
• They have massive heads and equally impressive tongues. When Percy licks me, I know I have been licked. And I need a towel.
• It is nearly impossible to get his attention with physical discipline. Whapping him on the nose when his licking gets overwhelming does no good unless I do it so hard that it hurts me. (See "imperious to pain", above.) The Daddy Voice works, though. 
• It hurts when his tail hits me. And he wags his tail a lot. Now I understand why short-haired, i.e., non-fluffy, dogs usually have their tails cropped. It is self-protection by the owners against bruised legs.

He never smiles. Lucy and Bear smiled a lot, but he never does. He can look serious, intent, or repentant.

And cute.

* Smokey thinks it is funny to refer to Percy as our grandson. I think it is weird. Funny, but weird.

** According to Wikipedia, there are several different breeds that commonly referred to as pit bulls, among them the Staffordshire terrier.

When the going gets tough cold, the tough cold... is everywhere.

I woke up this morning to... this.

Not only did it snow last night, but it is cold and very windy out there. 

Crap.

Summer/autumn = gone. Winter = now. (Of course, it is mid-November in n.w. Wisconsin, so what did I expect -- sunshine and palms?)

On the bright side, that means that this little thing OTN:

will be very welcome. It is a dog sweater for Ser Percival The Energetic, who has a very, very short coat and a naked pink underside. Poor baby needs a sweater.

.

P.S.

Anything still green in the woods in November (except conifers) is an exotic. This is a Tartarian honeysuckle that was here when we bought the place and that I have intended to remove for... a long time.

Remnants of Percy.

This used to be a bunny. It was a bunny for years, right up until the last hour or so of one of Percy's visits.

You know how, at Easter, you always bite off the ears of your chocolate bunny first?

Percy does the same thing.