Monday, March 24, 2003
She knows she's beautiful. She also understands the purpose of the ridiculous leash... obviously I am incapable of navigating the front yard without her help... I am, apparently, just that dumb. So she has to lead me around the yard, lest I get lost... oh, and the leash helps keep me away from the busy street out front. ;) Since she had to be out there for my sake, though, Cricket thought she would at least get a nice tan. She also took it upon herself to ensure "Frontyard Security" by carefully inspecting all of the bushes, over and over again. I think she liked being "jungle kitty"-
There were a couple of questions in the comments people left this weekend, so I thought I would answer them-
Charlotte asked if the chenille yarn at the cuff of the tiger sock is washable in the same way as the tiger yarn. I have no idea- the chenille was an ebay purchase. I do know that it is synthetic, so I'm hoping that it can be at least machine washed (although I will tell my friend to keep the socks out of the dryer). I guess I'll give them a wash myself before I give them to her, and if the chenille destructs, I'll take it off and re-do the cuff with the tiger yarn. I hope it'll turn out ok, though, since I have lots of the chenille, and think it would be cool to use on other cuffs too.
Anne asked about Cricket's name... being a yank, it was definitely not the sport. Basically, she got her name for 3 reasons- (1) when I got her from the pound as a tiny little kitten, she had a bit of a cold, and so her purr sounded more like a chirping noise because of her stuffy nose. (2) when I brought her home in July, we were in the middle of "cricket season" and would occasionally find the little black insects hopping around the house. (3) she spent the first day or so she was home in the fireplace- at that time, it didn't have any sort of door or screen or anything. I think she liked the security of being in her "cave"... and I had heard of a Japanese (?) proverb that a cricket on the hearth was good luck...
...of course, the last few mornings she has also merited her name for her leaping ability... especially her perfectly aimed pounce from the foot of the bed onto my chest, whereupon she sticks her face right up against mine and seems to say, "Well, good, you're awake (through no fault of mine!) so why don't you rub on me? After all, who needs to sleep past 5 am when we have the whole day to nap in the sunny spots?"
The Latin phrase for today:
"in the silence of night"
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