I used the leftover yarn from the gloves. I tried to like it. I left it laying about for a few hours. I put it on and took it off a few times. It wasn’t right. I took it apart. I thought about making a scarf. I looked at patterns for about an hour. It didn’t work. This was hat yarn. I wanted a hat. After another two hours, I realized tat I would have to make up something. I hate it when that happens. So far, I have a rolled brim. I feel as though I have wasted three days.
On the cat front, Flo is much better. She goes balistic when we try to give her her medicine. We have to wrap her up in a big towel. We give her some half and half afterward. Spoiled brat.
It is much cooler today so I cooked—nothing special, just meatloaf and potatoes. It was something to do between searching patterns. I should have gone down to Mernie’s and got some fruit.
Back to knitting.
Doug dug up a big old dying bush here last fall. There was nothing here two months ago. We have never had any impatiens on this side of the house. I only put in a few plants by the courtyard.
I am going to look so good this winter.
Possessed Demon cat?
And sleep.
You don’t see this much in the summer.
Up a Creek in Lower Slower Delaware 