Today is the day, the first of April, when we celebrate the kitties and their birthdays. Only, they are peeved, on account of Doggo Blog, even though the doggos, Sofie and Stella, were very sweet, and by this time already back in their own home. But. As you can see, from Foo's haughty, dismissive expression, his turned ear, his barely closed eyes... it's gonna take more than scratches, snuggles and tuna flakes to get back into their good graces. Oh, dear, don't let them see me packing for a train trip to Portland, Oregon. I only got three tickets and none of them say "Cat Passenger."
Ok... Sorry kitties. This was not a great birthday. We owe you one.
I've been dog sitting. I didn't realize how literal this would be... hahaha. Sofie, on my right, has her own food, which Stella cannot eat, or she will get sick. Naturally, they like to sneak bites from each others bowls, so I have taken to sitting with them at breakfast and dinner. It's not a chore... because dogs and kibble nomming is one of my favorite auditory experiences, and their kibble is especially crunchy. Also, sitting with them affords me a better view, and when they finish eating and look up... oh those sweet faces, those soulful eyes!
Grant is home from Iceland. And he brought me a wonderful, thoughtful gift. But wait... let me tell you something else, first. It's so much fun when one story inspires another, gets raveled up into another...
Grant went all over Iceland, then Denmark, with his brother Clark, and my red beanie! I feel well-traveled by proxy, and it was fun to see him wearing it, especially as the pictures were in amazingly beautiful places. And when Grant came back into town, and came by to share pictures and stories, he gave me a skein of genuine 100% Icelandic wool yarn. Red, of course. Too perfect. I set right into it and I am already wearing my own team beanie! I've decided they are lucky hats, good for adventures, deep thoughts, and other musings.
A blur of activity... descriptive of this moment, our week, this year. I can't quite focus on all of it, but this picture involves chickens, goats, a fluffy white lamb, and leaping black Stella lamb. Only, the lambs are dogs. Woolly, woolly doggos, and this is their Doggo Blog.
Stella is bananas for outside. Outside in the shrubs, outside along the fence, outside through the bushes, outside into the flowers, outside under the benches, outside around the chicken run, and outside round and round and round the yard. Last night she was leaping, technically in flight. It's no wonder these pictures aren't focused, I was laughing too much, watching her little black form arc with a bound from place to place. The world is Stella's bounce house, and she's loving all of it.
While Sofie made a more studied, casual visit, Stella flew from one attraction to the next, exclaiming wildly, "Chickens, bark, bark. Goats, bark, bark. Bark, bark grass, flowers, bamboo, sniffs, smells... squirrel!"
The world is a bounce house, what's got you leaping?
It's the first full day of Doggo Days at Camp Bird House, and we are having a good time. While Patrick and Mahshid enjoy some travel during their spring break, we stepped in to have the opportunity to play with Sofie and her little sister, Stella.
If goats are like vegetarian dogs, then Stella and Sofie are like miniature sheep! (Which only proves how little I know about sheep!) They're so woolly... so appealingly, run your fingers through my wool, woolly. And they like to come up and sit right up against your leg, so you feel like your one in the flock.
Hello, Stella. Are we in the same flock?
Hello, Sofie. Sofie's still deciding which camp activities are her favorite. Stella likes collecting flowers in her tail, running along the trails, and visiting the goats and chickens. Sofie may be debating whether a spa-resort camp would have been more to her liking. But she does approve of carne asada, and looking for Cairo's rats.
They're fun company. We think so... the cats are... well, the cats are appalled. It's true. Even though both doggos have been calm, respectful, good sports, it's a fact that our cats are not warm hosts. Mister Foo hides. He just looks completely aghast, and retreats to the furthest, least accessible corners of our home. Chango doesn't look distressed. He's seen it all, in seventeen years, but he's got no time for new anything, so he's giving these doggos a wide berth. Cairo is actively protesting, visibly demonstrating his objections with long stares, stink-eye, hissing, and a haughty kind of tail swishing that reads like a heavy verdict. Cairo patrols the railing of the landing, where he can look down on Stella and Sofie. And the doggos? They have too many admirers to visit, corners to sniff, places to explore, tidbits to enjoy, so only occasionally do they glance wistfully at Cairo, as though to say, Get your tail down here, and let's play!
Personally, I cannot resist these soulful eyes. Yes, Sofie, I will play with you. Let's go find flowers and look for bunnies.
You can play outside, or inside, with doggos.
You can take selfies with doggos... of course, they may posses more charms.
We still have chickens and robots, goats, gardens, yarn, deep thoughts and other musings, but for at least a few days, this will be a Doggo Blog... get your tail down here, and let's play!
This "grand" entry is wasted on my sensibilities. And sending people up on tall ladders isn't so great for my senses, either. Those double glass panes are a pain, but they look better today, thanks to William and Geoff. Sorry spiders, but it was getting ridiculous.
The crocheting muse comes and goes, particularly when it comes to making hats, beanies. I have made cute, functional crocheted hats, and then I have been through long stretches of time when nothing works... I get only frog worthy yarn messes, ugly things that look like Regretsy submissions. For one thing: I don't have a practiced and firm grip on reading crochet patterns. In fact, just looking at instructions with all of those abbreviations, and secret coded symbols makes me feel weak, hivish. So, I either follow YouTube tutorials, or make things up. Recently I made up a pattern for a crocheted beanie, and I have super-successfully replicated my work, many times. Hats everywhere. My own design, my own pattern, and I can adjust it for sizes, and repeat it... it's miraculous, for me. But I worry that the muse will flee, so I have decided to write down my recipe. Only, remember... I don't read patterns, but I am trying to write down a pattern.
Hopefully, my notes and pictures will suffice. Hopefully, if I forget my own beanie pattern, I will be able to decipher my feeble scrawl and cryptic descriptions, enough to produce another crocheted hat. And maybe, just maybe, someday I will be invited to play with the A-List bloggers, the crafty crowd, the cool kids of the Internet. Otherwise, my very first crochet pattern will be submitted to the lesser known, but still distinguished publication... Drunken Amateur Crafter Monthly. Any subscribers?