Cats and Knitting (oh god I'm becoming what I've always feared)

Holy shit do I love this weather. It's cool enough for sweaters (especially at night) and toasty warm hand-knits, but not so cold that we need to turn on the heat. It's so exciting to know that I won't need to worry about sweating my ass off every time I leave the house for at least another 6 months or so. I recently bought a wind-proof fleece jacket and it is perfect for this time of year. I loves it. I also bought a pair of winter boots, which unfortunately guarantees that there will be absolutely no snow this year. Not that I'm hoping for a repeat of last year's deluge, but a couple of 6" snows is always nice- it's just not winter without some measurable snow.

Today is Halloween, and I'm excited to celebrate in my customary way: I buy a couple bags of Halloween candy, get a blanket, and pick a spooky movie. Then I turn off the porch light, snuggle up on the couch with the blanket and movie, and eat all the candy myself. Mwahahahaha! Honestly, I did leave the light on for the first two years but we never had one trick-or-treater. Not one! I think they avoid our neighborhood because of all the stairs, lazy little slackers.

I finished knitting a pair of socks for my sister-in-law, and immediately afterwards made a couple instant-gratification items: a swiffer cloth and a felted coaster cozy. The swiffer cloth was a success- it's not quite as grabby as the disposable cloths, but it does work. The coaster cozy was meant to keep the cats from knocking our stack of cheap cork coasters off the counter. It was less of a success. First, it didn't quite come out the size I was shooting for. This is probably because I crocheted it and crochet apparently shrinks differently than knitting, which makes sense because it IS different. Second, it does nothing to stop the cats from just knocking the whole thing off the counter. Clearly, this is their second favorite game to play in our absence, right after "hide assorted small objects under the stove."

Speaking of cats, Marlow did wind up back at the vet. They shaved the back of his leg to get a good look at where he had been chewing and he really did a number on himself. Chewed himself right up. He also had filthy ears (again) and a small scratch on his cornea (probably from a tussle with Sam). They gave us four (4!) medications and an Elizabethan collar. Surprisingly, the medications were not a big deal. Two oral liquids, ear drops, and eye ointment... he was good about getting all of them, even the ointment. The collar on the other hand, well, didn't go over too well.

I'm reasonably certain that Marlowe is dumber than your average cat. I love him to death, but he's... special. I put the collar on him once we got home, and the poor little guy could not figure out how to walk forward with it on. He kept trying to slink along the ground, but the bottom edge of the collar would catch on the carpet. He would take a couple steps, get "stuck" on the carpet (or a piece of furniture or a door frame), then he'd back up and try again. I even tried cutting about an inch off of it to make things easier, but it was no help. Eventually he solved his problem by simply walking backwards. Except he couldn't navigate the stairs backwards. I carried him upstairs, since I'd rather have him up near the litter box, but then I found new problems. He couldn't get into the covered litter box and he had no water upstairs. Ok. I took the top off the litter box thinking that he might figure out how to back into it. Then I brought up a bowl of water. Unfortunately, it only took Sam a few minutes to locate the bowl of water and splash all the water out of it. Super.

I can't separate the cats because I have only one litter box. If I put Marlowe upstairs with a bowl of water, Sam will splash all the water out. And Marlowe can't drink out of the water dish downstairs with the cone on, so there's no point in putting the litter box and Marlowe down there. The only solution was that the collar had to go. There was no way I could stay home with Marlowe and make sure that my backwards-walking cat would be okay anyway. He had to be able to function without me. Luckily, it all worked out in the end. Once the steroids kicked in, he seemed to stop itching and had little interest in chewing up his leg. Now he's fine, though he still looks a little mangy while his hair grows back.

The vet had also suggested that Marlowe is getting a little chunky, which came as a huge surprise. If Marlowe is getting a little husky, then Sam must be morbidly obese. Now they're both on diets, and I'm feeding them separately to be sure they're only eating exactly what they're given. Of course this means that they wake me up every morning, crying about how they're starving and they'll die if they don't get their breakfast right now! And they repeat this routine as soon as I walk in the door. It irritates them to no end that Spencer gets walked before they get their dinner, and Sam gives us the Glare of Death from the window sill. Oh, these pets and their shenanigans!

Back to knitting: I'm working on a pair of fingerless mittens for myself, to protect my hands from the Jeep's cold steering wheel. What's better- it's from STASH! Look at me! Knitting from the stash! Who knew it was possible? I'm using a ball of Rowan Felted Tweed that I actually bought for this very purpose, and making up the pattern as I go.

I'm also considering destashing all my mohair. I bought a bunch of it when I first discovered non-big-box yarn, but it turns out that I really don't like mohair. I can't really put my finger on why, but I don't. My sister is visiting this weekend (yay!) so maybe she'd like some, and anything else will go up for grabs.

A Mostly Decent Week

The past week had only a few small frustrations. This is remarkably better than previous weeks, which were fraught with many large annoyances. It turns out that I'm not thrilled with my bangs- they're cute, but mildly annoying. Luckily they'll be long enough to tuck behind my ear in a few weeks, and until then bobby pins keep them out of my eyes. There haven't been any major issues at work, but we have had a lot of visitors which is distracting. And it seems like everyone is doing their best to schmooze my coworker and I in an effort to convince us to move to Connecticut. I know they don't mean to, but they're stressing me out. It's a lot of pressure. Even without the schmooze, it's a lot.

When Scott wanted to move us out to Maryland, the decision wasn't as hard. Sure we'd be far from our family, but he had a great job offer and I had absolutely nothing going for me in Illinois. But now there's more at stake, since we have to consider Scott's career and our home (which hasn't exactly appreciated). Plus we like this area... I've really grown to love it (except the damn heat). I like the slightly slower pace of life, lax gun laws, history, and mild hillbilly flavor. I'm sure Connecticut has it's own charms, but I definitely get that "fish out of water" vibe.

Today I lightened that load a bit by doing a Tarot spread. I love Tarot. I don't think there's anything mystical or magical about it, but it works. You read into it what you need to hear. This time I read that for now I just need to relax and let things play out. And that's true- even if I knew the answer right now, it doesn't really make a difference. We're still going to be here in MD for at least another year, probably longer. Maybe during that time something will change that will make the decision obvious. Either way, there's no use killing myself with stress trying to figure it out now.

So let's switch over to lighter subjects, shall we? The cats freaking love their new perch. They climb right up the side to get to the top, and sleep there all the time. It was clearly money well spent. Sam is doing well, but he's getting to be a big boy. I think I'm going to need to start separating the cats during their dry food meals to make sure they're both eating their own portions. Spencer is also well, if just a bit arthritic. He needs a nail trim soon, and I have (admittedly high) hopes of Scott and I doing it ourselves. Perhaps if we involve hotdogs or bacon it will be possible. Poor Marlowe continues to be vexed by minor health issues. It seems he's going to be headed back to the vet this week with more allergies. He's been a little squinty, and seems to be itchy. He chewed the crap out of his leg, and is now sporting a bald spot. Hopefully this is something that can be solved with some sort of kitty Benadryl. Quick innerweb research tells me itchy cats are usually reacting to seasonal allergies or mold. I'm doubting it's mold in his case as our house isn't all that old and hasn't had any major water damage or anything like that. I could also swear that his bad days would coincide with mine, but I didn't keep records or anything so who knows. Can cats eat honey? That's what's been helping me- local honey. Hm, perhaps I'll ask the vet.

A new BBQ place, Rib City, opened up nearby. We finally tried it out, but were sort of disappointed. The food wasn't bad, but not amazing either. It felt a lot like eating at a Steak 'n Shake (you have a server, but you're eating on plastic plates)- sort of a middle ground between fast food and sit-down restaurant. The biggest turn off was our server, who was pretty obviously stoned out of her freaking mind and severely annoying. I'm pretty sure she would have been mildly annoying but tolerable, had she not been so very, very high; but holy effing crap... We probably should have said something, but with food it's always sketchy. You don't want anyone spitting in your food. Instead we'll vote with our wallets and stick with Famous Dave's for our mediocre BBQ needs.

I'm chugging along on the current sock project, but my mind has been elsewhere. We had a few days of cool weather, and it got me excited about cold-weather knits: hats, mittens, sweaters, etc. I'd like to make myself some fingerless mitts for driving, and regular mittens for whatever. Then there's the plethora of sweaters that I have yarn for, but haven't started; and maybe a couple hats. We're also trying to whittle down our unnecessary spending, and knitting from the stash will both save money by spending less on yarn, and by essentially expanding/replacing my wardrobe for free. Next time a hoodie wears out, I'm not allowing myself to buy another. It must be knit!

If I can remember, I'm going to do the biannual airing of the stash this week. As more and more stinkbugs sneak into the house, I wonder what other sort of critters are getting in without my knowledge. I don't like using mothballs, so I might make more scented sachet like I did last year. Or I'll cave and stick my lovely yarn in zip-lock bags. Hopefully bags aren't necessary, since my wool is in the closed cabinet- I wouldn't call it bug-proof, but it's at least bug-resistant. In any case, the task will be considerably more difficult with the cats around. The little yarn thieves are not to be trusted. I will attempt to distract them with crinkly paper, but if it doesn't work I'm sure you'll read about it next time.

In Which I Never Learn

Wearing ponytails almost exclusively for the past year or so has really done a number on my hair. I think there may be additional things going on (crappy health, stress) that are contributing to that problem, but mostly I think it's the ponytails. I tried using only scrunchies, since they seemed to be more gentle, but I don't think it was helping. Since growing out my pixie cut, it's only been cut 1.5 times (the .5 was when I trimmed up the back myself when it was looking a bit mullet-esque). It was time for another cut to get rid of all the dead ends and the last of the dyed bits. I figured shoulder length should do it, but ultimately decided to go a bit shorter and toyed with the notion of bangs. Do I dare admit that what I wanted was a bob? I do. It was. Except no layers- I think that's where the stylists fuck me. They all seem to think layers will help, but they never do. I considered the fact that the cut I desired consisted of cutting one straight line, and decided that The Hair Cuttery would suffice. After all, even a shitty stylist should possess the scissory aptitude of a six year old, right?

Not so much, apparently.

It started out okay. I had brought a picture procured from the innerwebs to show the length I desired. I also pointed to the exact spot on my neck. I tried to be very clear, even though I probably wouldn't have cared if she was an inch off in either direction. I had brought a second picture to demonstrate the bangs I liked, but told her to leave that part out for now- I would prefer to decide at the end. She washed my hair and got to snipping.

Very quiet alarms sounded almost immediately. She was distracted. She had to walk away 3-4 times to help the receptionist with the register. She referred back to my picture and said, "Now this cut has very few layers, it's just a blunt cut..." "Yes!" I interjected, "I don't want any layers. Just straight across, please." She seemed dubious, but kept snipping away. About 3 minutes into the cut, she discovered during small talk that I was about a decade older than she thought. It's not uncommon, and most people are afraid they've offended me (they probably haven't), but this woman seemed sort of disturbed by it. As though I had somehow offended her. The alarms got louder. Our chit-chat grew awkward. Everything irked her: I've been married for 9 nears. My husband is a tattoo artist. I have a 16 year old stepdaughter, but don't really want babies. You'd think I was telling her how I like to punch kittens or throw rocks off overpasses. I chalked it up to personal differences, and let the conversation die. At that point she was ready to start blow drying my hair anyway.

As she dried, I noticed that one side was a little longer than the other. So did she, and she snipped off a little bit to even it out before blowing the ends under. I did not notice that she had overcompensated. At some point she said she had done something to the ends to "give it some movement." I wrongly assumed that she was talking about the little texturizing snippets I saw her making on the ends- THAT I would have been fine with. She finished blowing the ends under, but one side wanted to blow out instead of under. So she attempted to fix it with a flat iron. It didn't work. What it did do was make the ends of my hair L shaped. It seemed like she was having a long day, so I let it go thinking that at least the cut was even. She showed me the back, which looked fine blown under, and we were done. Wanting to just get out of there, I nixed the bangs, paid, and left.

I got home and went right up to the bathroom for a better look. I was, um, a little surprised. There were layers. They were only in back, and they made the back of my hair flip straight out- just like that loathsome bob I got back in 2008. What the fuck. Sometimes I think that maybe I never actually speak- I just hallucinate that I'm speaking. Because I vividly remembered saying, "No layers, just straight across." I turned my attention to my L shaped ends. That was an easy fix. I wet the ends so that I could re-dry them, and that's when I saw how uneven they were. The right was a solid 1/2" longer than the left in front. Remembering that she had cut my hair while it was parted in the center, but styled it parted on left, I thought that might be the cause. No dice. Moving my part simply moved the extra length to the other side. Fuuuuuck. This is why I don't get my hair cut very often.

My choices were further butchery at the hands of another stylist, or fix it myself. I opted to fix it myself. Using my dinky pair of hair scissors and a hand mirror, I did it. First I evened out the sides, then worked on the back. It turns out that she had also interpreted "straight across" as "slightly longer in the back," so eliminating the layers wasn't a problem. Once it was all cut, rinsed, and blow dried, I cut my bangs exactly how I wanted them- long and side swept. I did a surprisingly decent job. Here is the photographic evidence:

Hair I Wanted: (please show me where the layers are, because I can't see them)



















Bangs I Wanted:



















End Result:



















I don't know what that lady's problem was, but I'm never going back to Hair Cuttery again, no matter how simple my needs. Next time I think I want to do something basic enough for them, I'll just do it myself to begin with and use the money to buy more yarn.