Mossy Cottage Knits

I Am Easily Amused

Not much on the knitting front (or front and back. Or front, back and sleeves.) to write about but things are happening. I’ve had an almighty struggle with the first sleeve of the Merely Tolerable Gansey but the clouds are starting to part. In fact, if I had arms that were only three inches long, I’d be done. Well, with one sleeve, anyway. This site is officially my new best friend; sorry, Ken.

In the meantime, some little happenings that amused me:

1. Something went really, really wrong with my life somewhere along the way because I now own a machete. Princesses do not own machetes. (Er…apparently this rule has been amended to: Princesses with ivy problems do.)

2. The machete is symbolic of my attempt to get my neglected yard back under human dominion, starting with the mountain of blackberry that smothered six sizeable shrubs over the course of the last year and a half. Last night I found myself deep in the bowels of the blackberries, rescuing an ailing hydrangea, and every time I cut a cane of the by-then-dubbed Enemy, rather than squirm my way back out to deposit the cane in a pile, I just flung it behind me. (Or I would try. Sometimes I would give a cane a mighty heave with a Monica-Seles-like grunt and Tiger-Woods-like follow-through, only to end up with the cane stuck firmly to my sleeve.) Guess what I discovered when I turned around? A pile of severed canes almost large enough to block out the sun and certainly large enough to block my escape. I made it out but let’s just say, thank God red goes with my pale skin and freckles.

3. Also last night, Benny jumped on the top of the refrigerator to watch me make a grilled-cheese sandwich and, unbeknownst to him, since cats pretty much don’t knownst anything, hunkered down on just the door part of the freezer. I tried to resist, I really did, but finally I broke down…and opened the freezer door. The look on Benny’s face as he found himself suddenly swinging outward from the fridge and teetering on a 1”-wide ledge was priceless. I had a huge laugh, pointed at him (this may have been where I made my mistake), shut the freezer door, and went back to making my sandwich. All of which explains the lick marks I found on my butter an hour later.

4. Being a member of the local Freecycle group is worth it if for no other reason than the occasional oddball postings that come along. My favorite to date: Mr. Potato's tongue and right arm.