Thankfully, I have no further mice to report. I finished MIL's hat, but failed to take a picture of it to show you. Moodles threw her first temper-tantrum and was rewarded with an early bed time. Much to her chagrin, she is still not allowed to play with Mommy's Laptop. When she woke up two hours later, Daddy showed her how to play a dumbek. This was fun until the drum tipped over and bonked her on the head. Then it was Bed Time: Part II.
So in this absence of funny things to share with you, I shall instead redirect you to someone else who does have a warm-fuzzy for you... Go read about pre-schoolers at Miss Chelsea's Blog. Then say it with me: Awwwwwww.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
More of Everything: (hats, mice, whatever)
My latest knitting project was a hat for Ethel, who will be retiring at the end of this year. I love Ethel because she bribes me into good behavior with cookies. How can you not love that? Also, she adores the things I knit her, which means that I knit her more things. It's a self-perpetuating sort of relationship. 
This hat is based on the Meret pattern by Wooly Wormhead. I made it with the "slouchy" variation, and it seems to fit Ethel really well. I will miss Ethel's naughty rebelious streak and kindness after she's gone. She has handed off her torch to me, and I now posses the Cookie Tin of Good Behavior. I shall do my very best to keep it stocked, but we'll see how that pans out. I probably won't bribe people into good behavior... I'll likely end up giving them out as "consolation prizes.""Pandora.com isn't working on your computer? Say it's not so! I have two other computers here that don't work at all, and guess what? Pandora Radio isn't a mission critical application and I have no sympathy for your plight. Go listen to music on your ipod. Have a cookie."
I know. I'm mean.
Then there's the update I know you're all really here for... The mice. You wanted to know if I'm sure yet... Obviously, based on the picture, I'm not. There was nothing in the trap when I got home from work yesterday, but there were mouse droppings next to it. I think it got set off and literally scared the crap out of another mouse. I set it up again, and then went out for Thai food with Eithni and Moodles*. We really weren't gone long, but by the time I got back, I had a second gray mouse. I named her Helena. And then we sexed the mice. Paris and Helena (both grey) are girls, Hector is a boy. Fan-freakin'-tastic.Of course, I set up the trap a fourth time, because I still want to be sure that I've got the full set. Then I cast on another hat, this time for my MIL. Moodles slept restlessly because the teething continues, so I didn't get much done. Can I tell you, my kid has developed her first annoying habit? She grinds her teeth when she's awake. Which is impressive, really, because she's only got 4 of them... The top two aren't even all the way in yet. GAH. The tooth-grinding sound is like nails on a chalkboard to me. This habit will be strongly discouraged, though I'm not really sure how. Hopefully, she'll stop doing it once she's gotten used to her new oral appendages.
Anyway, I checked the trap before bed, and there was no activity. I almost started to relax. Then, at 4:00 in the morning, Husband came into the bedroom, his mirth barely contained.
His giggling sounded a little nervous, like he was afraid I might snap and go on a massive rodent killing spree or something. "What do you want to name the new mouse?"
"Glaaaarghh. Murble."
"There was fourth mouse in the trap when I got home."
"Ajax. Duh."
"What if it's a girl?"
"It's a mouse. I don't think it cares. Harumph."
... So I'm still not sure. The trap is reset. Please, God, don't make me come up with another epic mouse-name...
*Eithni and I are systematically working on building up the kid's tolerance to spicy food. We both ordered our food hot, and then gave bits to the kiddo to try. We did wipe all the sauce off before laying out the potatoes and baby corn for her to nibble, but there was definitely some remnant heat. She ate them all with little complaint. Honestly, the biggest complaint was about the hand-washing afterward. I didn't want her to get pepper juice in her eyes after dinner, so Eithni took her to wash while I tried to scarf the rest of my dinner. THAT was where the fit ensued. Spicy food is no problem, but do not get the bebe wet. Apparently, she will melt if you do.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
My Pet Vermine:
If you were wondering about the secret of my Mouse Catching Success, it's partly experience with rodents from my youth (Mom conceded on her "no pet rule," and allowed a few gerbils over the years.) and partly the awesome tip-traps that I borrowed (permanently) from Eithni. These traps are quiet, safe for the dogs and the bebe, and super-easy to use... The only drawbacks are that you need to be vigilant after you set them, and check them several times a day, or they won't be humane, live traps anymore*, AND... Once you've caught a live mouse in the middle of winter... What do you do with it???I'll show you what I did with the one I caught...
I went out and bought it a Critter Keeper
, a water bottle, some bedding, and proper rodent feed. That's what I did. Because I'm a big, fat softie. Well that, and having caught Anyway, after I set up Paris in his/her new digs, I reset the mouse trap in the same spot, just to be sure. Last year we had a pair of mice, so I wanted to be certain that I'd caught all our guests... This morning, I heard chewing coming from the kitchen and went to check my trap. Son of a biscuit. The brown mouse is Hector - now installed with Paris in the mouse environment that is suddenly too small. I haven't yet had a chance to sex those little suckers because I was trying to leave the house to catch my bus to work when Hector made his appearance. It's a good thing the stupid bus was late, because I then had to bait and set the trap a third time because now I'm really not sure.
I hope to god that I don't catch a third mouse**, because I'm fresh out of places to put them until the ground thaws a bit and I can drive them to a park somewhere and let them loose. Alinore has offered me a habitrail that she is no longer using... Apparently it'll be just the thing I deserve for 12th Night. I guess it'll solve the problem of where to put the little guys when I'm trying to clean their cage - I just haven't worked out what I'm going to do for cage-cleaning time until then. I'm pretty sure I'll need to clean out the mouse-house several times before the middle of January.
*Dude. Someone remind me to put the trap away before I leave for Pittsburgh for the holiday...
**If you're wondering, a third mouse would be either Ajax or Helena, depending on gender. What else do you name the victims of an epic mouse-catching spree?
Monday, December 20, 2010
Hunting and Dyeing...
This last weekend was very exciting, as far as Moodles was concerned. First of all, we spent the bulk of the weekend teething, and have FINALLY managed to produce two front teeth. The first day was done without any numbing agents for Moodles, because every time I get her a new tube of Orajel
, the dogs seize it and eat it. No matter where I hide the stuff, they FIND it and they devour it... I have no idea why they crave Orajel and chapstik like steak, but they do. I have this mental picture of Maggie and Jasmine sitting on the couch, drooling everywhere, with their lips all slack and their tongues lolling out, pointing at each other and laughing like a couple of stoned idiots, each telling the other how ridiculous she looks. Do dogs do that? I can think of no other reason why they'd need a constant supply of Orajel.
Since Moodles is an only child, and bound to be somewhat spoiled, all she gets for Christmas will not be two front teeth. Though, those will certainly aid with the chewing. She still won't let me see the teeth, but I can feel them up there now when she bites my chin. (The chin biting is her version of a kiss... Adorable, yet painful.)
Through all the excitement of teething, I almost missed seeing the mouse that had taken up residence in my stove. However, I caught a glimpse of it on Sunday night, and borrowed a trap from my Mother-in-law. Because I am down with the rodent hunting, I managed to trap the little sucker with sunflower seeds inside of 45 minutes. The only problem now is... what the hell do I do with it? Wild mice don't make good pets, and if I let it go outside my house, it'll just come right back in. I have a feeling that I'm going to have to get Husband to drive it across town and release it in a park somewhere. It might get eaten by predators, or freeze to death, but at least then it won't be by my hand... And it also won't be in my cupboards, contaminating my foodstuffs.
Moodles thinks that the mouse is awesome, because it's tiny and spastic, and fun to watch. She really wants to pick up the biscuit container that it's in and carry it around... Or maybe give it a good shake. Her fascination is duly noted, but I don't think she'll be permitted to have a rodent until she has mastered the concept of gentle.
Other things accomplished over the weekend, were the completion of the sweater I was knitting for Mom. I modified the original pattern to incorporate some picot edging for the cuffs and hem, and I opted to skip the sewn design and used a seemless shoulder pattern from Elizabeth Zimmermann's book Knitting Without Tears.
The sweater looks really odd on me. Either Ms. Zimmermann was on crack when she worked out the ideal shoulder proportions for a sweater, or my shoulders are not right. I'm hoping that it'll still fit Mom OK, being as her shoulders are considerably smaller than mine, and she's probably not as pregnant in her proportions... (Gotta do something about this cursed baby-weight.) There's a Raglan Hybrid pattern in the book that I haven't tried yet, and I guess that'll be next. With any luck, it'll look slightly less stupid on me.
Last, but not least, I worked on an experimental dye technique that I used to decorate some t-shirts and onesies for Moodles and her cousin. I mixed black RIT dye
with enough flour to make it into a pancake batter like consistency, and then I squeezed it onto cotton shirts with a fine nozzle cake decorating
tool. (For the dragon, I used a stencil. The wording is hand done. My hand writing sucks...) After 24 hours, I flaked off the dried paste, and underneath was a nice permanent design, dyed through the fabric, with "acceptable" amounts of bleed. 
On the left, you can see one of the onesies that I made for Moodles, after it's been de-floured (Haha. Sorry.) and run through the washer and dryer once. The dye fades a little, but remains legible and friendly looking. One of these days, in my copious spare time, I want to do her up a couple of outfits that are covered in Mhendi
art. This first run was limited, because I wasn't sure if my plan would work. Now that I know that it does, I have a ton of ideas... Also, I was trying to make outfits for Li'l G, and I'll admit... I was kind of at a loss for "manly" designs that I was capable of drawing. Most of my doodling is pretty feminine looking. I'll have to work at some tribal doodling for the little guy. Mhendi art would probably not appeal to his Papa's sense of appropriately masculine clothing.
And now I'm off to congratulate myself for actually mailing Middle Sister's Mint Chocolate Chip sweater, and Li'l G's dragon shirt - before Christmas. Next task? Write Grandma a letter with color pictures of Moodles. Not being internet savvy (The legal blindness kinda makes that tricky.) she prefers to get really-real pictures that she can put on her refrigerator. I'm on it!
, the dogs seize it and eat it. No matter where I hide the stuff, they FIND it and they devour it... I have no idea why they crave Orajel and chapstik like steak, but they do. I have this mental picture of Maggie and Jasmine sitting on the couch, drooling everywhere, with their lips all slack and their tongues lolling out, pointing at each other and laughing like a couple of stoned idiots, each telling the other how ridiculous she looks. Do dogs do that? I can think of no other reason why they'd need a constant supply of Orajel. Since Moodles is an only child, and bound to be somewhat spoiled, all she gets for Christmas will not be two front teeth. Though, those will certainly aid with the chewing. She still won't let me see the teeth, but I can feel them up there now when she bites my chin. (The chin biting is her version of a kiss... Adorable, yet painful.)
Through all the excitement of teething, I almost missed seeing the mouse that had taken up residence in my stove. However, I caught a glimpse of it on Sunday night, and borrowed a trap from my Mother-in-law. Because I am down with the rodent hunting, I managed to trap the little sucker with sunflower seeds inside of 45 minutes. The only problem now is... what the hell do I do with it? Wild mice don't make good pets, and if I let it go outside my house, it'll just come right back in. I have a feeling that I'm going to have to get Husband to drive it across town and release it in a park somewhere. It might get eaten by predators, or freeze to death, but at least then it won't be by my hand... And it also won't be in my cupboards, contaminating my foodstuffs. Moodles thinks that the mouse is awesome, because it's tiny and spastic, and fun to watch. She really wants to pick up the biscuit container that it's in and carry it around... Or maybe give it a good shake. Her fascination is duly noted, but I don't think she'll be permitted to have a rodent until she has mastered the concept of gentle.Other things accomplished over the weekend, were the completion of the sweater I was knitting for Mom. I modified the original pattern to incorporate some picot edging for the cuffs and hem, and I opted to skip the sewn design and used a seemless shoulder pattern from Elizabeth Zimmermann's book Knitting Without Tears.
The sweater looks really odd on me. Either Ms. Zimmermann was on crack when she worked out the ideal shoulder proportions for a sweater, or my shoulders are not right. I'm hoping that it'll still fit Mom OK, being as her shoulders are considerably smaller than mine, and she's probably not as pregnant in her proportions... (Gotta do something about this cursed baby-weight.) There's a Raglan Hybrid pattern in the book that I haven't tried yet, and I guess that'll be next. With any luck, it'll look slightly less stupid on me.Last, but not least, I worked on an experimental dye technique that I used to decorate some t-shirts and onesies for Moodles and her cousin. I mixed black RIT dye with enough flour to make it into a pancake batter like consistency, and then I squeezed it onto cotton shirts with a fine nozzle cake decorating tool. (For the dragon, I used a stencil. The wording is hand done. My hand writing sucks...) After 24 hours, I flaked off the dried paste, and underneath was a nice permanent design, dyed through the fabric, with "acceptable" amounts of bleed. On the left, you can see one of the onesies that I made for Moodles, after it's been de-floured (Haha. Sorry.) and run through the washer and dryer once. The dye fades a little, but remains legible and friendly looking. One of these days, in my copious spare time, I want to do her up a couple of outfits that are covered in Mhendi art. This first run was limited, because I wasn't sure if my plan would work. Now that I know that it does, I have a ton of ideas... Also, I was trying to make outfits for Li'l G, and I'll admit... I was kind of at a loss for "manly" designs that I was capable of drawing. Most of my doodling is pretty feminine looking. I'll have to work at some tribal doodling for the little guy. Mhendi art would probably not appeal to his Papa's sense of appropriately masculine clothing. And now I'm off to congratulate myself for actually mailing Middle Sister's Mint Chocolate Chip sweater, and Li'l G's dragon shirt - before Christmas. Next task? Write Grandma a letter with color pictures of Moodles. Not being internet savvy (The legal blindness kinda makes that tricky.) she prefers to get really-real pictures that she can put on her refrigerator. I'm on it!
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Moodles and Grandpa K
As promised, here are the pictures of Moodles and Grandpa K
from the good camera. As you can see, Moodles comes by those blue eyes honestly. (I'll have to get a picture of her with Grandpa P in two weeks when we're in Pittsburgh, so you can see the blue-eyed donor from my side of the family tree.) I'm also tickled to point out that the hat on Grandpa K's head is the one I knit him for Christmas. 
Moodles is slowly learning about "sharing," but that still doesn't stop her from stealing the bone right out of Maggie's mouth, while the poor dog is actively trying to chew it. I'm thankful that Maggie is so patient with Moodles, but I'm very concerned that Moodles will think that Jasmine will also let her get away with this sort of theft, when I'm not entirely sure that is the case. At any rate, Moodles is starting to tentatively offer people things that she thinks they will enjoy - in this case, the cap to her bottle, which she is fond of using as some form of trumpet or kazoo. She will also share the TV remote with me, in between bouts of chewing on the edges and drooling into all the buttons. She is now experimenting with imitating me, wherein she will point the remote at the TV with a look of deep concentration and wait for something to happen. Sometimes, if she hasn't already selected AUX on the universal remote, she manages to buttonmash enough to change the channel, or switch the input to COMPOSITE, which is very exciting.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
SEKRET HANDSHAKE
Moodles' Cthulhu Face is rapidly becoming a sekret handshake of sorts around our house. Moodles is tickled with it, because it's something she can do that she knows Momma and Daddy will do back. These last two days, she has gone out of her way to look at me and then give me the Cthulhu-finger-waggle. She then looks inordinately pleased with herself when I respond in kind.
This is made more amusing to me because, for all our many repeated attempts to show her how, we still can't get her to wave goodbye or hi-five reliably... But she will now make the Cthulhu face very nearly on command.
The most recent variant on this theme is the "Kiss of Cthulhu," which has become highly popular at diaper changing time. When she tries to roll over on the changing table before her diaper is firmly affixed, I have only to palm her face and make kissing noises on the back of my hand while tickling her cheeks and ears with my finger tips, and she dissolves into gales of giggles. The giggling usually gives me enough time to get her dressed again without struggling or tears - if I'm quick!
In my 20's, I used to tell people that I wasn't going to have kids until I could get my pets right. To this day, most people will tell you that my dogs just ain't right... They are affectionate, and they mean well, but they ain't right.
... At least my results continue to be consistent...
This is made more amusing to me because, for all our many repeated attempts to show her how, we still can't get her to wave goodbye or hi-five reliably... But she will now make the Cthulhu face very nearly on command.
The most recent variant on this theme is the "Kiss of Cthulhu," which has become highly popular at diaper changing time. When she tries to roll over on the changing table before her diaper is firmly affixed, I have only to palm her face and make kissing noises on the back of my hand while tickling her cheeks and ears with my finger tips, and she dissolves into gales of giggles. The giggling usually gives me enough time to get her dressed again without struggling or tears - if I'm quick!
In my 20's, I used to tell people that I wasn't going to have kids until I could get my pets right. To this day, most people will tell you that my dogs just ain't right... They are affectionate, and they mean well, but they ain't right.
... At least my results continue to be consistent...
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Christmas Knitting is Knit...
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| Mint Chocolate Chip Hoody |
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| Look! Cables! |
All that aside, I'm still fairly pleased with how well this sweater knit up. It is (as usual) of my own design, and it seems to fit pretty well. The thing that I am the most pleased with is that I knit that thing top down (starting at the top of the hood) and managed to make it entirely seamless. I know how to do blanket stitching and kitchenering, but I hate it enough to spend hours designing my own patterns so that I never ever have to do it. The other thing I really hate is casting on, so I also do a fair amount of work making sure that I cast on the smallest number of stitches I possibly can for a given project. (Thus, the top down construction on all of my sweaters... you cast on far fewer stitches for a neck hole than you do a waist-line...)
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| Mint Sekanjabin |
Monday, December 13, 2010
The Call of Cthulhu
Well.
It was a long weekend of not enough sleep and OMG SNOW. Since Grandpa K and Uncle M were coming down to visit (Cousin N bailed on us due to a sinus thing that made flying upsetting for him.) I made up three hats. I finished up Grandpa K's hat just in time on Saturday morning and presented it to him at breakfast. Moodles hadn't yet met him, and though she is just now starting to get a bit wary of strangers, she seemed quite pleased to accept another hat-wearer into her circle of acceptable bebe-Sherpas. (Pictures of Moodles with her Grandpa K will be forthcoming as soon as I have time to retrieve them off the Good Camera.)
Unfortunately, the weekend that we picked for Grandpa K to do a gig at the Knuckle Down Saloon was also the weekend of the first big blizzard of winter, and fiascoes ensued. Starting with Uncle M's rental car. For the drive from Minneapolis to Madison, Uncle M and Grandpa K rented a car, so that they would be sure to arrive safely, in a nice, reliable vehicle. Unfortunately, the rental company was not down with this plan, and they provided a car from Arizona that didn't even have all-weather-tires... Actually, it didn't even have tires with tread. So once Saturday's rain gave way to snow and ice, the rental got stuck at the bar, and it being the weekend, the rental company didn't have any locations that were readily available to come fetch the stuck car and exchange it for one that can move further than 4 inches in snow. While it wasn't terribly upsetting to have Grandpa K and Uncle M around for an extra two days, to make kissy face at Moodles, it did make getting around decidedly awkward... 
We routinely had one more person traveling than we had seats in the car, and Husband's Durango was in the shop over the weekend, which left us with the option of cramming everyone into my Spectra like a clown car, or begging Angus for a ride. Thankfully, Angus was quite accommodating and even came to pick up Moodles and Me for Grandpa K's show. (You can listen to the WORT radio interview of Grandpa K here. The interview and some songs from his more popular albums
start at 0:59 minutes into the podcast and run to 1:23.)
Due to the blizzard, the show was sparsely, but enthusiastically attended. The other fellow that was scheduled to play sets in between Grandpa K's sets was unable to make it due to the weather, but no one seemed to mind. Grandpa K has promised to come back in the spring and do another show for Moodles when there's likely to be less inclement weather.
It was a long weekend of not enough sleep and OMG SNOW. Since Grandpa K and Uncle M were coming down to visit (Cousin N bailed on us due to a sinus thing that made flying upsetting for him.) I made up three hats. I finished up Grandpa K's hat just in time on Saturday morning and presented it to him at breakfast. Moodles hadn't yet met him, and though she is just now starting to get a bit wary of strangers, she seemed quite pleased to accept another hat-wearer into her circle of acceptable bebe-Sherpas. (Pictures of Moodles with her Grandpa K will be forthcoming as soon as I have time to retrieve them off the Good Camera.) Unfortunately, the weekend that we picked for Grandpa K to do a gig at the Knuckle Down Saloon was also the weekend of the first big blizzard of winter, and fiascoes ensued. Starting with Uncle M's rental car. For the drive from Minneapolis to Madison, Uncle M and Grandpa K rented a car, so that they would be sure to arrive safely, in a nice, reliable vehicle. Unfortunately, the rental company was not down with this plan, and they provided a car from Arizona that didn't even have all-weather-tires... Actually, it didn't even have tires with tread. So once Saturday's rain gave way to snow and ice, the rental got stuck at the bar, and it being the weekend, the rental company didn't have any locations that were readily available to come fetch the stuck car and exchange it for one that can move further than 4 inches in snow. While it wasn't terribly upsetting to have Grandpa K and Uncle M around for an extra two days, to make kissy face at Moodles, it did make getting around decidedly awkward... We routinely had one more person traveling than we had seats in the car, and Husband's Durango was in the shop over the weekend, which left us with the option of cramming everyone into my Spectra like a clown car, or begging Angus for a ride. Thankfully, Angus was quite accommodating and even came to pick up Moodles and Me for Grandpa K's show. (You can listen to the WORT radio interview of Grandpa K here. The interview and some songs from his more popular albums start at 0:59 minutes into the podcast and run to 1:23.)Due to the blizzard, the show was sparsely, but enthusiastically attended. The other fellow that was scheduled to play sets in between Grandpa K's sets was unable to make it due to the weather, but no one seemed to mind. Grandpa K has promised to come back in the spring and do another show for Moodles when there's likely to be less inclement weather.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Going to Unreasonable Lengths:
Every person has three ranges of hair length:
These ranges vary from person to person, and some people, much to their chagrin, don't seem to be genetically capable of producing enough hair to hit the "enough" range much less the "too much" category. Being half-Japanese, and therefore having received the "OMG, HAIR!!!" gene, this is not my problem. I have extra-ordinarily healthy hair growing in places I really wish it wouldn't, but lets not go into that.
For me, the "too short" range is anything above my shoulder blades - mostly because I am routinely too lazy to do anything with my hair, and if it is above my shoulder blades, my hair will not stay behind me when I lean forward. PLUS, my hair is naturally curly, and if I get too much above my shoulder blades, there isn't enough weight in my hair to keep it from turning into ringlets. Let me assure you, I am entirely too sarcastic and deadpan to run around looking like Shirley Temple.
The "just about right" range is anything between the bottom of my shoulder blades and the top of my belt. I have kept my hair about there for most of my life. As I mentioned, I am not entirely satisfied with my hair at that length, but I can do 80% of the things I want with my hair when it is that long. (I still can't do that neat "crown of braids" thing, though, because I have a big, fat head. I know. It's a terrible fate... However I have determined that having hair long enough for a braid crown puts me well into the "too much to handle" range...)
Because I haven't managed to get to the stylist since before Moodles was born, my hair is now in the "too much to handle" stage of growth, and it's making me a little insane. I am ok with "hair past my waist," as they say in the romance novels. I am NOT OK with "hair past my butt." This was underscored for me twice yesterday when a colleague mentioned my hair in a very complimentary way, and I brushed her off with a litany of complaints. (Sorry, D. What I meant to say was, "Thank you.") And again, when I got home from work and had a chance to shower and deep condition, because Mom kept the baby for an extra half hour, so I wouldn't have to worry about running out of the bathroom naked and covered in soap because Moodles found a way to destroy herself in an empty crib.
I know that at least half of you reading now hate me because I'm complaining about hair growth that you've been trying to achieve all your life, but let me tell you why hair past your butt sucks the big one:
Problem #4 can repeat itself as you dry your hair with interesting and, at times, utterly humiliating variations. You lean forward and flip your hair upside down to towel it off, but then how do you get back into the upright position for take off? Especially if you happen to be preening in front of your newly minted boyfriend? You don't just wad it up and stand - no! You fling it up over your shoulder and arch your back majestically like a surfacing mermaid! And then... Oh... The horrors...
Arching your back makes your hair effectively a foot longer, which means that when it lands, it will go BETWEEN your legs (COLD! CLAMMY! AUGH!) and then up over your thigh. Because it is squeaky clean, it will STICK THERE AND NEVER COME OUT. I don't know if you've ever tried to balance in a position wherein your boobs are pointed at the sky, but it's quite difficult... Especially if it's not a position you intended to be in, in the first place. If you are a klutz like me, and start thrashing around like an idiot, this will cause you to fall over in an entirely ungraceful tangle of limbs and hair and land on your head. LOUDLY. At this point, you can only hope that your newly minted boyfriend is sensitive enough not to laugh at you when he comes to rescue you from your poorly planned attempt to be irresistible.
Not that that has ever happened to me... Ever.
Anyway, I need a haircut soon before I manage to injure myself. Also, I made this hat last night for the imminent in-laws. Moodles helped.
- The range at which they consider it "too short to be functional."
- The range at which it is "just about right." ( Though no woman appears to be entirely satisfied with her hair, even at the "right" range.)
- The range at which it is "entirely too much to handle."
 |
| Moodles chews a package of #7 round needles. |
For me, the "too short" range is anything above my shoulder blades - mostly because I am routinely too lazy to do anything with my hair, and if it is above my shoulder blades, my hair will not stay behind me when I lean forward. PLUS, my hair is naturally curly, and if I get too much above my shoulder blades, there isn't enough weight in my hair to keep it from turning into ringlets. Let me assure you, I am entirely too sarcastic and deadpan to run around looking like Shirley Temple.
The "just about right" range is anything between the bottom of my shoulder blades and the top of my belt. I have kept my hair about there for most of my life. As I mentioned, I am not entirely satisfied with my hair at that length, but I can do 80% of the things I want with my hair when it is that long. (I still can't do that neat "crown of braids" thing, though, because I have a big, fat head. I know. It's a terrible fate... However I have determined that having hair long enough for a braid crown puts me well into the "too much to handle" range...)
Because I haven't managed to get to the stylist since before Moodles was born, my hair is now in the "too much to handle" stage of growth, and it's making me a little insane. I am ok with "hair past my waist," as they say in the romance novels. I am NOT OK with "hair past my butt." This was underscored for me twice yesterday when a colleague mentioned my hair in a very complimentary way, and I brushed her off with a litany of complaints. (Sorry, D. What I meant to say was, "Thank you.") And again, when I got home from work and had a chance to shower and deep condition, because Mom kept the baby for an extra half hour, so I wouldn't have to worry about running out of the bathroom naked and covered in soap because Moodles found a way to destroy herself in an empty crib.
I know that at least half of you reading now hate me because I'm complaining about hair growth that you've been trying to achieve all your life, but let me tell you why hair past your butt sucks the big one:
- You sit on it. Your dog sits on it. The stinky guy next to you on the bus sits on it. In all three situations you end up trapped. The dog will take advantage and lick your face until you asphyxiate. You PRAY that the stinky guy on the bus will only take advantage and talk your ear off, but you sometimes worry that he might also lick your face.
- You have to un-tuck your hair from your pants every time you go to the bathroom. This wouldn't be as annoying if it wasn't winter and you weren't wearing a wool sweater. But because it is winter, and you are wearing a sweater, un-tucking your hair will generate enough static charge to shock the shit out of you when you reach for the stall door, and your hair will stand out around you like a three foot halo in all directions. If "hair by Vandegraph" is not a good look on you, you will be irritated for the next 20 minutes until the charge wears off... By then you will have to pee again... Rinse, repeat.
- You have to be careful when you potty. I will leave those details to your imagination. Let me just sum up by saying that if you were formerly a braid chewer, the potential for utter grossness here might cure you of the habit forever.
- This one is my favorite: Showering becomes disconcerting. Picture yourself in a nice, hot shower, deep conditioning your hair, because that's what Lady Godiva would want... When the time comes to rinse, you let down your luxurious locks from where they were piled on top of your head, sucking up all the lovely moisturizers... In the last two minutes on top of your head, those locks have become cold and clammy. Where do they go when you shake them out? They go right into the crack of your ass, that's where. Not cool.
 |
| Hat for Matt. Needs to be blocked. |
Arching your back makes your hair effectively a foot longer, which means that when it lands, it will go BETWEEN your legs (COLD! CLAMMY! AUGH!) and then up over your thigh. Because it is squeaky clean, it will STICK THERE AND NEVER COME OUT. I don't know if you've ever tried to balance in a position wherein your boobs are pointed at the sky, but it's quite difficult... Especially if it's not a position you intended to be in, in the first place. If you are a klutz like me, and start thrashing around like an idiot, this will cause you to fall over in an entirely ungraceful tangle of limbs and hair and land on your head. LOUDLY. At this point, you can only hope that your newly minted boyfriend is sensitive enough not to laugh at you when he comes to rescue you from your poorly planned attempt to be irresistible.
Not that that has ever happened to me... Ever.
Anyway, I need a haircut soon before I manage to injure myself. Also, I made this hat last night for the imminent in-laws. Moodles helped.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Checking things off the list:
Or not.
I was hoping to cross off a few things from my "Things In Process" list... Instead, last night, I started an entirely new thing. A hat for one of my 3 male in-laws that are coming to visit this weekend. I will make two more with slightly different patterning and call it done.
I took this opportunity to use up some of the zillion yards of handspun wool I have lying around the house from the last time I went on a spinning bender. I used my dark natural grey and my white wool, and I'm fairly pleased with the results. I knit the largest size hat on the pattern, since I don't have anyone's measurements. I figure, if the hat is too big, they can wear it into the shower until it fits.... Yay, wool! And yes, those ear flaps do actually come out of the hat all together. Those are functional buttons you're looking at, yo! One gift down, eleventy more to go!
Honestly, I'm glad that that part of the evening went according to "plan," because it was that only part that did. When I left the office, my plan was to go home, pick up Em, do some work at the Bar, eat dinner with Eithni and Teffan, and then maybe make a set or two of hand warmers for the student-gifts. You know what they say about a plan only lasting until you first engage your opponent? Right. Last night, my opponent was Angus, who - though I love him with the nuggies normally reserved for brothers- has displayed an amazing ability to obliterate any semblance of "plan" through his very presence.
So my evening actually consisted of fixing the printer (Which the bebe had messed up by using it as a standing assist, thereby pressing all the buttons and re-setting the IP address to something useless...), ordering Thai food for Myself, Husband, and Angus, failing to get HD, due to stupid trees blocking the satellites, making the aforementioned hat, and watching the A-Team movie with the guys. It wasn't an unpleasant evening, but I still need to go down to the bar at some point to set the security feeds for unreasonable levels of networked convenience, rather than just CCTV... And I need to talk someone into cutting down a &*%# tree so that I can get some HD* TV.
*What truly irritates me is that I cannot solve this problem by switching satellite providers. Both Dish Network and DirecTV use the same satellites. In some ways, I feel that this defeats my freedom of choice. And don't tell me about Charter Cable. The rant I posted about their idiotic customer service is still in the top 10 things that come back if you Google "MightyJesse."
I was hoping to cross off a few things from my "Things In Process" list... Instead, last night, I started an entirely new thing. A hat for one of my 3 male in-laws that are coming to visit this weekend. I will make two more with slightly different patterning and call it done.
I took this opportunity to use up some of the zillion yards of handspun wool I have lying around the house from the last time I went on a spinning bender. I used my dark natural grey and my white wool, and I'm fairly pleased with the results. I knit the largest size hat on the pattern, since I don't have anyone's measurements. I figure, if the hat is too big, they can wear it into the shower until it fits.... Yay, wool! And yes, those ear flaps do actually come out of the hat all together. Those are functional buttons you're looking at, yo! One gift down, eleventy more to go!Honestly, I'm glad that that part of the evening went according to "plan," because it was that only part that did. When I left the office, my plan was to go home, pick up Em, do some work at the Bar, eat dinner with Eithni and Teffan, and then maybe make a set or two of hand warmers for the student-gifts. You know what they say about a plan only lasting until you first engage your opponent? Right. Last night, my opponent was Angus, who - though I love him with the nuggies normally reserved for brothers- has displayed an amazing ability to obliterate any semblance of "plan" through his very presence.
So my evening actually consisted of fixing the printer (Which the bebe had messed up by using it as a standing assist, thereby pressing all the buttons and re-setting the IP address to something useless...), ordering Thai food for Myself, Husband, and Angus, failing to get HD, due to stupid trees blocking the satellites, making the aforementioned hat, and watching the A-Team movie with the guys. It wasn't an unpleasant evening, but I still need to go down to the bar at some point to set the security feeds for unreasonable levels of networked convenience, rather than just CCTV... And I need to talk someone into cutting down a &*%# tree so that I can get some HD* TV.
*What truly irritates me is that I cannot solve this problem by switching satellite providers. Both Dish Network and DirecTV use the same satellites. In some ways, I feel that this defeats my freedom of choice. And don't tell me about Charter Cable. The rant I posted about their idiotic customer service is still in the top 10 things that come back if you Google "MightyJesse."
Monday, December 6, 2010
Things in Process:
Welcome to the holiday season! That time of year when I discover (while frantically cleaning my house before guests arrive) that I have 10,000 more things in-process than I thought. I had thought that maybe I should photograph them and post them for you so that the shame of unfinished projects would drive me to completion... Thus, I give you, the bullet points of half-assery: (If you check back later, I may update with more pictures after I get home tonight... You never know...)
* SUPER GROSS. Moodles used to just throw up and leave it at that. NOW, she throws up and smears it all over everything, in what she assures me is "art". As you can see by my use of quotation marks, I remain unconvinced...
- Mint chocolate chip hoody (knitting)
- Black embroidered jumper (hand embroidered, for Moodles, of course!)
- "I Poop Alot" onesie (hand embellished commercial onesie)
- New wool tunic (hand sewn with seam embellishments, for me)
- New wool tunic (hand sewn with seam embellishments, for Husband)
- New wool tunic (hand sewn with seam embellishments, for Moodles)
- Flower diaper cover (Despite my ability to draft a diaper pattern for an adult, NO ONE needs to play that much Warcraft. This will be for Moodles. Duh.)
* SUPER GROSS. Moodles used to just throw up and leave it at that. NOW, she throws up and smears it all over everything, in what she assures me is "art". As you can see by my use of quotation marks, I remain unconvinced...
Thursday, December 2, 2010
In which we are somewhat blurry:
I wanted to show you a picture of Moodles' fantastic morning bed-head, the only problem being that the bebe is blurry in the morning. Initially, I thought it was just that there isn't sufficient time for my coffee to start working by 7:00 AM, or perhaps the lack of glasses - that item often being misplaced the evening before by one of my "helpers." Usually under the couch. However, it has been confirmed, and my camera agrees. Moodles is, in fact, blurry until close to 9:00 AM. (At which point the need for a nap finally slows her down...)
Finally, I had to pick her up in order to keep her still enough to capture her fantastic 'do. (In future years, I'm sure she'll spend HOURS in front of a mirror trying to accomplish just this look using all manner of hair product and a curling iron...)
Finally, I had to pick her up in order to keep her still enough to capture her fantastic 'do. (In future years, I'm sure she'll spend HOURS in front of a mirror trying to accomplish just this look using all manner of hair product and a curling iron...)
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
A train ate my breakfast:
Being a dork in high school can make one long to be popular. It may not be until one spawns that the drawbacks of popularity can be observed and appreciated.
Last night, I was trying to get some work done on a new, wool tunic* for Boar's Head this coming weekend, but was having trouble making any progress because Moodles wasn't content to play with her toys. She wanted to be on me. She didn't want to be held. She wanted to use me like a jungle gym. So I was trying to finish up the seam embellishments on my tunic with an 18 lb baby hanging off of one arm, while trying desperately not to poke out her eye with a needle, or gouge her rhumpusing feet with a stray pin.
Maggie was only able to resist the "dog pile" for about 5 minutes before she had to join us, despite her previous experiences involving close proximity to Moodles. (Once again proving that a dog's memory lasts for about 3 minutes... tops.)
Eventually, I had to give up on my project all together in order to save poor Maggie, because Moodles figured out how to ride her like a pony, and despite the fact that the dog was laying down on the couch; Moodles had somehow managed to hook a finger under Maggie's eyelid and was attempting to steer with it.
Popularity is a bitch, yo. Everywhere I go, I am shadowed by my two, dedicated groupies, one of whom is bent on self destruction (Moodles) and the other is sure that she is mortally starved for both attention and food (Maggie). Both are convinced that the other has the better toys and snacks, and every once in a while, I consider getting the dog a teething ring and the baby a rawhide chew. Unfortunately, I know that this would not solve the problem, as it's all a case of "the grass is greener on the other side." They will ALWAYS want what the other is playing with no matter what.
***
So, this morning, Moodles woke up half an hour early to poop. I know I've told her repeatedly that we get up early so that we can be productive, but that's really not what I meant.
Nonetheless, as I crashed around the house in a blind, coffeeless stupor (Because I was up 1/2 hour before the coffee pot was ready for me. TRAGIC.), I did make up a short list of things that I could accomplish with my extra half hour. I could get the bebe to Grandma's house on time for once, and do all the dishes, start a load of wash, check my email, and still have time to eat a bowl of cereal!
Everything was going according to my plan until I loaded Moodles into the car to go to Grandma's house. The dishes got done, and the email was at least thinned out to a manageable level. I was 15 minutes early leaving to drop Moodles off, and I figured I could start the laundry and eat breakfast in peace when I returned. Sadly, this was not to be - for in the middle of the 4 block distance between my house and my Mother in Law's there is a train crossing. And for some reason, they decided that 7:15 AM, in the middle of morning rush-hour would be the ideal time to block off a major through-way with 20 minutes worth of rail car changing.
So there I sat, listening to Moodles in the back seat, composing a complex, gargled ballad to her toes; getting more and more incensed at the seconds lost every time the train reversed directions, but failed to get the hell out of my way. Did they have any idea what I could have accomplished had I at least brought a knitting project along? Did they care that they were eating up literally 1/3 of my private time for the day? And my breakfast... There would be no time for it by the time I got home. About 15 minutes into my inner tirade, when I was nearly foaming at the mouth and weighing the pros and cons of getting out of the car to throw rocks, I noticed that one of the slowly moving box cars had been tagged. All the cars were tagged, but this tag in particular short-circuited my rage-party:
Er. What?
I'm not sure that that means what I think it means... Or that they mean what I mean. Center for Disease Control represent a noble set of objectives, certainly, but I've never been exited about them in quite that way... What could possibly make someone so pleased with the CDC that they would feel the need to immortalize the emotion in spray paint on the side of a moving bill-board?
Cure for cancer
Cure for herpies
Cure for AIDS
Treatment for Syphilis?
Erradication of small pox?
HPV vaccine?
Who gets that excited about a vaccine? Surely not.
My brain chased its tail for the last 4 minutes of train crossing, coming up with more and more elaborate and improbable reasons that someone would be that thrilled with the CDC. I did momentarily consider the idea that maybe "CDC" is a person, band, or gang, but dismissed it, because my scenario was far more entertaining.
Eventually, I did get the bebe dropped off at Grandma's house, and managed to catch the bus to work, but the Train still ate my breakfast time, and now I have to spend all morning Googling alternative organizations represented by the initials "CDC."
And I wonder why I never seem to get anything done...
* I notice that Amazon.com has 100% wool suiting
/60" wide for $4.99/yard. If I didn't already have a ROOM FULL of unused wool, I would be all over this.
Last night, I was trying to get some work done on a new, wool tunic* for Boar's Head this coming weekend, but was having trouble making any progress because Moodles wasn't content to play with her toys. She wanted to be on me. She didn't want to be held. She wanted to use me like a jungle gym. So I was trying to finish up the seam embellishments on my tunic with an 18 lb baby hanging off of one arm, while trying desperately not to poke out her eye with a needle, or gouge her rhumpusing feet with a stray pin.
Maggie was only able to resist the "dog pile" for about 5 minutes before she had to join us, despite her previous experiences involving close proximity to Moodles. (Once again proving that a dog's memory lasts for about 3 minutes... tops.)
Eventually, I had to give up on my project all together in order to save poor Maggie, because Moodles figured out how to ride her like a pony, and despite the fact that the dog was laying down on the couch; Moodles had somehow managed to hook a finger under Maggie's eyelid and was attempting to steer with it.
Popularity is a bitch, yo. Everywhere I go, I am shadowed by my two, dedicated groupies, one of whom is bent on self destruction (Moodles) and the other is sure that she is mortally starved for both attention and food (Maggie). Both are convinced that the other has the better toys and snacks, and every once in a while, I consider getting the dog a teething ring and the baby a rawhide chew. Unfortunately, I know that this would not solve the problem, as it's all a case of "the grass is greener on the other side." They will ALWAYS want what the other is playing with no matter what.
***
So, this morning, Moodles woke up half an hour early to poop. I know I've told her repeatedly that we get up early so that we can be productive, but that's really not what I meant.
Nonetheless, as I crashed around the house in a blind, coffeeless stupor (Because I was up 1/2 hour before the coffee pot was ready for me. TRAGIC.), I did make up a short list of things that I could accomplish with my extra half hour. I could get the bebe to Grandma's house on time for once, and do all the dishes, start a load of wash, check my email, and still have time to eat a bowl of cereal!
Everything was going according to my plan until I loaded Moodles into the car to go to Grandma's house. The dishes got done, and the email was at least thinned out to a manageable level. I was 15 minutes early leaving to drop Moodles off, and I figured I could start the laundry and eat breakfast in peace when I returned. Sadly, this was not to be - for in the middle of the 4 block distance between my house and my Mother in Law's there is a train crossing. And for some reason, they decided that 7:15 AM, in the middle of morning rush-hour would be the ideal time to block off a major through-way with 20 minutes worth of rail car changing.
So there I sat, listening to Moodles in the back seat, composing a complex, gargled ballad to her toes; getting more and more incensed at the seconds lost every time the train reversed directions, but failed to get the hell out of my way. Did they have any idea what I could have accomplished had I at least brought a knitting project along? Did they care that they were eating up literally 1/3 of my private time for the day? And my breakfast... There would be no time for it by the time I got home. About 15 minutes into my inner tirade, when I was nearly foaming at the mouth and weighing the pros and cons of getting out of the car to throw rocks, I noticed that one of the slowly moving box cars had been tagged. All the cars were tagged, but this tag in particular short-circuited my rage-party:
CDC
BABY!
Er. What?
I'm not sure that that means what I think it means... Or that they mean what I mean. Center for Disease Control represent a noble set of objectives, certainly, but I've never been exited about them in quite that way... What could possibly make someone so pleased with the CDC that they would feel the need to immortalize the emotion in spray paint on the side of a moving bill-board?
HPV vaccine?
Who gets that excited about a vaccine? Surely not.
My brain chased its tail for the last 4 minutes of train crossing, coming up with more and more elaborate and improbable reasons that someone would be that thrilled with the CDC. I did momentarily consider the idea that maybe "CDC" is a person, band, or gang, but dismissed it, because my scenario was far more entertaining.
Eventually, I did get the bebe dropped off at Grandma's house, and managed to catch the bus to work, but the Train still ate my breakfast time, and now I have to spend all morning Googling alternative organizations represented by the initials "CDC."
And I wonder why I never seem to get anything done...
* I notice that Amazon.com has 100% wool suiting
/60" wide for $4.99/yard. If I didn't already have a ROOM FULL of unused wool, I would be all over this.
Monday, November 29, 2010
You're probably wondering why I've asked you here today:
If you know me in person, or are familiar with my facebook, livejournal, instant messenger, etc, you may be wondering why on earth I decided to set up a brand new blog? And why, in setting up this new blog, did I choose one with ads on it?
Well, I'll tell you: College is ridiculously expensive.
I'm 33 years old, and never finished going to college myself, and I'm only just now paying off my student loans. Husband is even older than I am, and he's got student loans too, and the cost of an education is rising.
I have the usual Roth and savings accounts set up for Moodles, but I'm very worried that they won't be enough to send her to school, and I can only put away so much per month before we have to start telling her that she's going to need to cut back on her formula intake if she wants to be able to go to a good school. I think that's kind of sad, and that's where all of you, this blog, and the advertising come in.
Any and all funds that I receive from the ads on this blog are going to go straight into Moodles' college fund. It would be the coolest thing ever if someday, she is able to say, "the internets paid for me to go to college."
I don't intend to run any more than the one ad at the side of the page, and the relevant links to Amazon.com (This includes the little store widget under WELCOME, because after two days, I've decided that I'm too lazy to keep up this constant linking. I'm doing it all once and putting it where y'all can find it if you're interested.). To keep things from getting obnoxious, I will only ever link to things that I own*
, or am saving up my allowance for
. Moodles will only make a commission if you actually BUY the thing in the links or the store widget, so there's no point in me linking to a bunch of useless dreck that none of us needs**
.
If you share this blog with friends who have kids
, or friends who like crafts
, or friends who are going to college and wish their parents had had this idea first, I would be much obliged to you. But in the end, I hope you're all just here because I am sometimes funny, or interesting, or creative, or inspiring and make your work day seem that much shorter.
*I have paid for this. Twice. (Once for myself, and once as a review copy for a friend who writes for Smart Bitches, Trashy Books.) To say that I have buyer's remorse would be understating things egregiously; however, if you are the kind of person who enjoys the tantrums and obnoxious behavior in "reality TV", this might be the novel for you. I did write a review of the book on the product page, if you want to know more.
**I don't need this, but that won't stop me from licking it if I ever see it in the store...
Well, I'll tell you: College is ridiculously expensive.
I'm 33 years old, and never finished going to college myself, and I'm only just now paying off my student loans. Husband is even older than I am, and he's got student loans too, and the cost of an education is rising.
I have the usual Roth and savings accounts set up for Moodles, but I'm very worried that they won't be enough to send her to school, and I can only put away so much per month before we have to start telling her that she's going to need to cut back on her formula intake if she wants to be able to go to a good school. I think that's kind of sad, and that's where all of you, this blog, and the advertising come in.
Any and all funds that I receive from the ads on this blog are going to go straight into Moodles' college fund. It would be the coolest thing ever if someday, she is able to say, "the internets paid for me to go to college."
I don't intend to run any more than the one ad at the side of the page, and the relevant links to Amazon.com (This includes the little store widget under WELCOME, because after two days, I've decided that I'm too lazy to keep up this constant linking. I'm doing it all once and putting it where y'all can find it if you're interested.). To keep things from getting obnoxious, I will only ever link to things that I own*
, or am saving up my allowance for. Moodles will only make a commission if you actually BUY the thing in the links or the store widget, so there's no point in me linking to a bunch of useless dreck that none of us needs**. If you share this blog with friends who have kids
, or friends who like crafts, or friends who are going to college and wish their parents had had this idea first, I would be much obliged to you. But in the end, I hope you're all just here because I am sometimes funny, or interesting, or creative, or inspiring and make your work day seem that much shorter. *I have paid for this. Twice. (Once for myself, and once as a review copy for a friend who writes for Smart Bitches, Trashy Books.) To say that I have buyer's remorse would be understating things egregiously; however, if you are the kind of person who enjoys the tantrums and obnoxious behavior in "reality TV", this might be the novel for you. I did write a review of the book on the product page, if you want to know more.
**I don't need this, but that won't stop me from licking it if I ever see it in the store...
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Cleaning out the animal cages:
Yesterday for breakfast, Moodles and I made some honey wheat bread in the bread-maker
. 
Moodles greatly approved of the resulting bread, and nommed on "heel strips" all day long.
She'd get about 1/2 way through each piece of bread before Maggie would interpret all the delighted bread-waving as an invitation come eat. There were crumbs EVERYWHERE in the bebe enclosure
. If I find a musical toy with a bread crust in the battery compartment, I'll know how it happened.
Eventually, I had to take the bebe enclosure apart, shake off all the stuffed animals, and sweep, because Moodles was trying to "save" little bread balls in the corners. I felt rather like a zoo-keeper, cleaning out the lion cage. I transferred Moodles to her jumparoo
, from which she supervised me with a grave countenance and violent bouncing. Maggie took notice of all the uneaten food while I was sweeping, and decided that the inside of the bebe enclosure was an untapped source of mana that she should harvest at the first opportunity. A few minutes later, I had the bebe changed and dressed, and the enclosure back together with the bebe inside. Maggie implimented her plan with all due haste, and found out almost immediately why Jasmine had declined to join her:
She had failed to realize that being inside a bebe enclosure would limit her ability to back up or turn around, while giving Moodles an unprecedented "reach advantage." And adding insult to injury, was the fact that there weren't even any treats in the enclosure anymore, because Maggie executed her plan right after I cleaned. Maggie is just lucky that she's a short haired pooch, or Moodles would have had her in corn-rows and bows by now. Jasmine and I sat at safe distance on the couch and laughed up our sleeves while Moodles stretched out Maggie's lips and drooled on her ears.
Despite being somewhat embarrassed over this mistake, I still managed to convince Maggie to clear all the crumbs out of the bebe enclosure this morning... But only if I took the bebe out first...
. - 1 1/8 c water
- 3 T honey
- 2 T vegetable oil
- 1 T molasses
- 1 T gluten
- 1 1/2 t yeast
- 1/3 t salt
- 3 c whole wheat flour
Moodles greatly approved of the resulting bread, and nommed on "heel strips" all day long.
She'd get about 1/2 way through each piece of bread before Maggie would interpret all the delighted bread-waving as an invitation come eat. There were crumbs EVERYWHERE in the bebe enclosure. If I find a musical toy with a bread crust in the battery compartment, I'll know how it happened. Eventually, I had to take the bebe enclosure apart, shake off all the stuffed animals, and sweep, because Moodles was trying to "save" little bread balls in the corners. I felt rather like a zoo-keeper, cleaning out the lion cage. I transferred Moodles to her jumparoo
, from which she supervised me with a grave countenance and violent bouncing. Maggie took notice of all the uneaten food while I was sweeping, and decided that the inside of the bebe enclosure was an untapped source of mana that she should harvest at the first opportunity. A few minutes later, I had the bebe changed and dressed, and the enclosure back together with the bebe inside. Maggie implimented her plan with all due haste, and found out almost immediately why Jasmine had declined to join her: She had failed to realize that being inside a bebe enclosure would limit her ability to back up or turn around, while giving Moodles an unprecedented "reach advantage." And adding insult to injury, was the fact that there weren't even any treats in the enclosure anymore, because Maggie executed her plan right after I cleaned. Maggie is just lucky that she's a short haired pooch, or Moodles would have had her in corn-rows and bows by now. Jasmine and I sat at safe distance on the couch and laughed up our sleeves while Moodles stretched out Maggie's lips and drooled on her ears.
Despite being somewhat embarrassed over this mistake, I still managed to convince Maggie to clear all the crumbs out of the bebe enclosure this morning... But only if I took the bebe out first...
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