JenLa

Yes, my fellow geeks, put yer flags in the air and wave em like you just don’t care. Phase 1 of Operation: Big Damned Sweater is finally complete. Voila!

Stats: Washburne 2.0

Pattern: Washburne by Dizzy Blonde Designs that’s me!

Needles: US size 5 [3.75mm]

Yarn: Jo Sharp DK Wool [98 m (107 yards) 50 g (1 ¾ oz) Color: 011 Heath, 4 balls

This is just one of the fired irons of which I last spoke. I really enjoyed the intricacies of sussing out the cable pattern when all I had were screen-shots to work from. Now, upon closer examination I noticed that the termination points on the small “parentheses” cable are just an illusion. I chose to leave them in my design, anyway. Partially to not step on any (Shawna Trpcic’s) toes, but mainly to satisfy my sense of natural progression: There must be a beginning and an end. Cables that start out of nowhere and then disappear make my head explode and completely futz with my sense of symmetry.

As you can see in comparison, there are no termination points on the original.

They work for me and only add to the appeal of the pattern instead of detracting from it, uniquifying it. Now, your coat doesn’t necessarily have to be brown to enjoy knitting this scarf, but it sure don’t hurt matters at all!

Another one of those fired irons? This site. When I decided to sell some of my designs, I didn’t want to do so from here. That’s not what JenLa’s about. Bitchy, snarky, sarcastic, whiney, and opinionated, and often grammatically incorrect? Definitely. Capitalistic and oppotunistic? Not so much. (we hope)

So, being the absolute techtard that I am, I’m rather proud of my little design & dye corner of the blogiverse….except one thing. The main purpose for it’s creation is the one thing I can’t do because I’m using a free bloghosting site.

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

So, until I can get my shit moved over to my own domain, the only way to get Washburne is through Ravelry. Just click on the button below, or visit my Dizzy Blonde Designs page for the link.

and now for something completely different…FLICKR DOES VIDEO!!!!! Check it:

BTW, That’s my mom and the DH chattering in the background. And if you watch to the right of the pair of black-clad legs, you’ll get an idea of just how huge Saber is. Keep in mind, he’s an AKC registered Sheltie. WTF?

Yesterday marked the first anniversary of very important addition to the family, because a year ago yesterday I brought home a dizzy little blonde bit of fluff and named her Trixie.

And she made herself right at home…starting with my heart, then proceeding to other comfy soft & squishy places…

Funny thing, I’ve always considered myself a cat person, never once thinking that a loud, drooling, smelly dumbass dog could be as fulfilling. Leave it to Trixie to prove me wrong. Life has been interesting with her around, that’s for certain, but it’s been filled with love and fun too.

Besides she’s not quite the typical “dog”, at times choosing not only to be distubingly cat-like, but comfortingly Momoze-like. Case in point:
1) Momoze LOVED shredding toilet paper; not only does Trixie love shredding toilet paper, but she relishes in distributing as many minute pieces throughout the entire house as caninely possible (which is even moreso than humanly possible).
2) Momoze hoarded the litterbox; Trixie hoards hedgies and displays her collection creatively, usually either at the entrance to her crate like baracade of posession or at the exact point of contact where my feet hit the floor first thing in the morning, to optimize maximum squeakage, of course.
3) Momoze licked drywall and tile backing board; Trixie licks carpet.
4) Momoze - knitting overseer yarn guard; Trixie - knitting sitter-onner yarn thief
5) Momoze - heart-warmer; Trixie - foot-warmer
6) Momoze - mellow-sharer; Trixie - over-sharer…

Which, actually, is more Sassy-like than Momoze-like.

In any case, I’m so happy I insisted Trixie came home with me! She has brought so much to my life, and is a wonderful companion. It was the best Christmas present I ever got myself. Now, what to get THIS year to top that. hmmmmmm

Yummy!

You’re guessing angel hair pasta?
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.
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Well…guess again.

Even Better!

That there is 60 grams of delicious yarny yumminess in the form of some super-soft laceweight that Wen brought over for a little Sunday to Dye For. Carolyn joined us for a brief spell, mezmerising us with watching her do the amazing flat-knitted-argyle-sock voodoo that she do so well. I wish she could have stuck around longer, not only cuz I like hanging out with her and not only to see the finished products (both successful, pictured below; and unsuccessful, which we shall never mention again) BUT to witness a miracle of Martos proportion: The man actually cooking something.

We also tried our hand at some slate blue, and for shits and grins, I threw in a skein of mystery somekindahandspun I got form the ASK swap a few months ago.

Mine’s the top skein. I could tell the spinner was going for high-end Noro-type yarn. Why else would she have put so much vegetable matter in it?

Wanna see what my pooches look like when they’re not stinky?

(pictures not to scale)
Home from the groomer’s and April fresh!
(thanks Carolyn for helping me get them there!)

And in answer to Jen’s question:

Lolcats. When can we finally put these wherever ‘where’s the beef?’ and ‘isn’t that special??’ went?

I leave you with this, and let you be the judge. I wish I could take credit for this paricularly excellent poking, but it’s all Pacalaga’s fault (and so worth it!).

I’ll just be under the bed if anyone need me, mkay?

Thank you, everyone, for you thoughtful words of encouragement and comfort regarding Sassy. Let me tell ya, today I’m feeling a million times the fool for getting all worked up and weepy and melodramatic over something that’s not surprising in a cat Sassy’s age. In my defense, she was exhibiting the same behavior Momoze did when it came to the end for him. Can I just say that it totally sucks when refusing food could mean either “Bleh, that tastes like ass” or “Oooo… Its the Big One… You hear that Elizabeth… I’m comin’ to you” or anywhere in between. The exact minute I knew Sassy was going to rally? Sunday morning: 8:11 am when I awoke to her black little velvety nose pressed to mine and her insistently meowed demand for her breakfast. BTW? Cat breath? NOT the first thing you wanna smell in the morning.

So, Sassy’s more like her old self again, with a few exceptions: a new feathers-on-a-stick batting toy (she plays more with the “holding” end more than the feathered end, figures); 2 new water dishes, and a cabinet devoid of Temptations, her favorite treats. Now I’m on the look-out for some sort of low-protein, great tasting kitty treat. Something tells me you all are gonna say, “Yeah, good luck with that!” Somehow I think that’s some elusive, mythical entity, but if any of you actually KNOW of any, sound off please. This contrary, cranky, cantankerous cat LIVES for her morning ration (2) of treats. Well, that and her jungle kitty sessions (which includes an all-you-can-eat salad bar) out in the front courtyard.

I’m feeling better Ma, thanks! Now tell the dog to get his nose outta my ass!

Last week I made a routine appointment with the vet for today for Sassy to get her cortizone shot and stock up on her special diet. Now I’m terrified that purpose of today’s appointment will change. Sassy is refusing food. Over the past couple weeks I’ve noticed she’s been slowing down, and for the past 2 days she hasn’t touched her dry, and has barely eaten any of her canned, she is, however drinking lots of water, and passing it. I just tried to let her outside, one of her favorite things to do, but she turned me down, slowly making her way back upstairs to lay beneath the bed in the spare bedroom.

She IS 13+ and has had serious, chronic colitis for most of the time I’ve had her, which had gone pretty much unchecked until 2 years ago. None of this knowledge makes me any less scared or any less sad at the prospect that Sassy may not come home from the vet today.

I’m hoping for the best, but instinct tells me that this just might be a one-way trip. I suspect renal failure. My heart is breaking, and I can’t stop crying. Trixie knows I’m hurting and is trying to comfort me the best way she knows how…by bringing me her prized Lamby.

**Update**
After spending 2+ hours at the vet I’ve got some good news and some bad news and some news that won’t know if it’s good or bad yet.

Good news: Sassy’s home and still very much alive, and now resting comfortably (I hope) on my pjs.
Bad news: She’s been diagnosed with early stages of kidney problems.

The doctor gave her some subcutaneous fluids, a bottle of amoxicilin and strict orders to rebound, and sent her home. We go back Monday for more subcutes, and with any luck that’ll make her feel much better, so she can live the next few weeks/months with some degree of normalcy and quality of life.

On the way home, her complaints at being confined AND in a moving car became louder and more insistant, which I take as a sign she’s starting to feel a little better. The vet, who has been our vet for decades, is a very practical man and wouldn’t recommend unnecessary and costly treatment. I believe he has the animals’ best interests at heart. The fact that he recommended the subcutes, and would have been extremely reluctant to euthanize, due to her alertness and her good color, give me some hope that she can have a few more quality, pampered and pain-free months.

I just really hope I made the right decision. I would HATE to think that I’m prolonging her suffering.