Knitting With a Knitten

Date: March 11, 2007

A version was submited to the Silicon Valley Romance Writer's Newsletter

      I was feeling like I deserved to read a little in the latest romance book before having oatmeal and performing my writing contest judging on a cool Sunday morning, and before doing taxes (the looming pile), and before a run to Home Depot . It's spring. I need a new shower door for the tub enclosure. New fixtures. New plants. Damn frost!
      I had worked myself silly in the yard yesterday - I deserved a break.
      I had so-far survived the layoff at work - so far - my boss hadn't - my one staff member is nervous. We are all due for contract renewal - right now. (And I was just settling into this job, too! Just seeing the fruits of my vision coming to harvest.)
      So I flopped on the new sofa - which is soft enough to embrace me and put me into slumberland.
      I was reading Carolina Moon - SLOG more like - and noting differences between movie and book (BIG book - light movie - that weird actress that I don't like). (Actually, after it got rolling, I liked the book.)
     
      I had done a bit of knitting on the dark green stripe of my afghan (thick yarn - size 13 needles) - and the beast has been determined that this big, soft, cuddly, sensuous green blob of yarn was a lure that she MUST have.
      She's been stalking this yarn project since I started it. But now, she is getting more sly, more stalking, more careful watching, plotting her mischief. Her rear end wiggles when she's thinking.
      Aware of her interest, I normally stick my knitting under a pillow or a throw when not working on it.
      She has grabbed it several times before. I have photos.
      Well, I was careless - after all - I was flopped right there on the sofa with it.
      Now - mind you - I had gotten up this morning to the dark orange yarn ball I made for her (from leftovers) wound round and round the kitchen island, my office table, a side chair, a box, whatever lay in her cat-crazed path.
      Yarn everywhere.
     
      I had patiently rolled that ball back up and left it with the light orange ball (another scrap piece).
      I thought having her own yarn would please her.
      It usually does - I find yard all over the place when I come home - and patiently re-wind the balls.
     
      While I wind these things up --- she attacks them - hooks them -- bites them - and goes slightly nuts when the strand gets tangled in her legs.
      It's a riot of fun to annoy the kitten this way.
      I placed both balls on the floor this morning and went to make coffee.
     
      I flopped, read (It's chilly - I want it warmer) and ignored her - except when she climbed up (hard to miss the thump of her landing on me) and then I hugged her and petted her and resumed reading.
     
      MY MISTAKE.
     
      When - at 9AM - my coffee cold - freezing cold - In the Kitchen with Bob on QVC (pleasant - not distracting - white noise) I got up for oatmeal (Medifast - I WILL get back on my diet) and found ---- dark green yarn EVERYWHERE.
     
      I must have been distracted.
      (After hearing about the woman who was dismembered by her husband because she took business trips.)
      (After hearing that they have found her in the garage, some parts in a park, some still missing.)
      Yeah - that will distract you. I was married to one of those types. (Note to self: go check on the guns.)
     
      I was a little freaked to find my lovely, and I thought protected, soft dark green yarn not just strewn - stretched taut!
     
      She had not managed to pull stitches - in fact the needles were still in place on the sofa, but she had grabbed her booty from right under my nose (more correctly, from under my bare feet) and run for it.
     
      The ENTIRE yarn ball was strewn round and round the kitchen island.
      My sensuous hunk of dark green yarn had been reduced to some wild string-art form. I had to re-roll this ball up (no longer a soft sensuous hank - now a hard ball) scolding the not-contrite-at-all kitten as I did so.
     
      I also noted she had partially de-balled both her light and dark orange balls too,
      so I retightened them for her - she ignored them.
     
      I am sure - as soon as I have a left-over dark green ball for her to play with, and start on the light green stripe, that she will come for the light green one.
     
      Summer - the devil.

      [She turned her attention to the OTHER knitting baskets. I found her with red velour, and then with the back of a completed sweater piece. Thank heavens for big throw pillows. I park them on the knitting baskets.
      She retaliates by stalking my trouser socks. Score: Kitten 3 - Momma 1 - she puts these delightful little tooth holes in them. She gnaws them!
      Nothing like arriving at a meeting, scratching an itch and find it's caused by a run and suspicious holes in your trouser socks! (And, no, that early in the morning, I missed them in dressing.)
      Hard not to break out laughing in the middle of a serious meeting.]

This is one of her milder string art attempts.

Summer - the devil-cat