Fuzzy Dreams

So, I read about all these wonderful things people knit for their home. The latest is house slippers which I crave because our first floor is very cold, despite our best efforts at insulation. The idea of toes wrapped in alpaca slippers sounds delicious - to me *and* my cat.

That's right. Delilah Damnit is aptly named because cursing usually follows her name. She likes to eat yarn. She likes to eat cotton. She likes to eat fabric. Hell, she likes to eat *plastic* for crying out loud.

We've tried cat grass, and that mostly curbs her appetite for roughage. Mostly. The occasional sock does make it into her mouth if it didn't make it to the laundry basket first. I guess that's why I don't bother knitting socks. I'd be sorely tempted to make fur lined mittens in a suspicious tabby shade if she ate a pair of hand made socks. Could you really blame me? She ate part of a baby sweater I'd made for my boss, so that's a gift that I'll have to remake. Nothing is safe from her voracious mouth.

So the dreams of a home filled with loving warmth will have to stay just that. Dream. Stupid cat. I fear leaving a knitted throw on the back of the couch. I'd just find it in her litter box for the next 6 weeks.

Cooling Cloche

So, I hate winter.

My response to the cold weather has been to create various hats in a vain attempt to block the freezing winds from replacing my earrings with icicles. So far, all attempts have failed. The latest is the felted cloche drying on my head. Tomorrow or Thursday will provide a good time for me to test how well it worked.

I have to say, it feels not a little strange to have a hat drying on your head because you don't have a hat form. I've shaped some plastic bags and squished towels just in case, so the hat can continue to dry while I sleep. It's a strange feeling.