...I just got back from Thanksgiving dinner at Dad and Gloria's in Poulsbo. Boy were the kooks on the road today. not quite as bad as coming home from Bremerton last Sunday. No one tried to bull'seye the station wagon with a full sized box spring mattress set.

they thought they would just stay on top of the construction rack on the freeway, by themselves. they blew off. what gives with that?

anyway, I got there safely and pretty much on time. got home safely too. whew! dark and stormy nights, my favorite driving weather.

Dad cooked dinner all by himself. It was pretty good too. Had a long schmooze with Lily, that is Emmaline's really mean little sister, the one who runs the show up there, all 7.5 pounds of her. if you are interested in the scientific theory of concentrated mean you have to inquire of CorbaeGirl. Lily is the proof that the theory crosses genetic lines, but what would you expect of a 7.5 pound cat who has to keep track of my dad, Gloria, three mangy boy kitties, one of whom is her worthless brother, and a DOG!

Well, Annie the Rotweiler passed away this summer and according to Lily things were finally getting into some sort of order when Sam started hanging around. Sam is a dainty little Bull Mastif. Sweet, quiet and totally gaga over Gloria. they go for walks. and he comes and hangs out by the wood stove. he invited himself to thanksgiving dinner.

you know how some dogs are tall enough that they can be sitting and "good" and still have a good view over the dining table? well, Sam can sit and be "good" and have a good view over the kitchen counters! He was very concerned about helping dad clean up after carving the bird. mind you, dad found it convenient to have him taste a few pieces of turkey while he was carving.

I have never seen the gates of hell, open or closed, but I have something to base my imaginings on now. jaws open, turney vanishes. jaws close. whew!

Sam is a sweetie though. and he had good manners and breeding. too bad for those neighbors who think he is theirs, he has changed allegances.

oh, and Emmaline has spent the last twenty minutes checking me out and I think that she really disapproves of Sam at the genetic level. what a surprise.

hope everyone has a good thanksgiving and someone to share with.

Rosceline

I am learning bobbin lace. We are having a weekend seminar at Kassandra's house in Bremerton. Just got home from day one to feed the cat and I think my mind is full.

I worked dilligently today and finished a pair of sampler pieces. both with nasty woogies in them. I am seriously thinking of winding bobbins and doing it over tonight. I go back tomorrow to start an actual piece of lace. I think we learned all the major lace stitches. I have to do some sort of review tonight.

I think I will load some bobbins up and try again to see if today's lessons stuck.

The last thing we did was make our own lace pillows and I had my cover all ready to go when I went to class this morning so I have a fully ready to use lace pillow too!

spiffy! super spiffy!

Rosceline

Your result for What Your Taste in Art Says About You Test ...

Balanced, Secure, and Realistic.

19 Impressionist, 6 Islamic, 2 Ukiyo-e, -19 Cubist, -16 Abstract and -5 Renaissance!

 . . . no, its POURING!  The winds are whistling past the house at mach 2 or 3 and the rain is coming down in sheets.  Emmaline has already written the day off for lurking, slinking and hunting and has just required me to open the linen closet for long term napping. 

Actually, she had already cleaned her paws and settled when I sat down and logged on and now there is the faintest, lady-like snoring coming from the towel shelf.  For those of you who don't live with feline overlords, that is the sweetest sound.  It also guaranties that I can do what I want to today unless I wake her up!

Freedom from supervision but no loud rock and roll while I clean.  What a day for cleaning the house. 

Rosceline

 . . . Did that get you curious?  Curious enough to read this?  I bet. 

Anyway, there I was at Safeway a few minutes ago standing in the cat food aisle.  We don't inform certain people of its proximity to the "dog food aisle".   Its better that way.   Just trust me on that one.   I am looking at a very nice sweater for the species challenged.  A very spiffy and quite tasteful sweater.  It was black stockinette with orange varsity stripes at collar and cuffs and an orange knit applique of a pumpkin on the back.  It was quite nice and there I was . . . Remember the title of this post? 

There I was thinking how it would fit Emmaline and how it would compliment her natural coloring . . . and thinking that I was sure I could get it on her at least once but there wasn't anyone at the house to get the necessary blackmail photographs before she got it off and shredded it and what good would that be. 

She could kill me with impunity without the threat of my spreading around the photographic evidence. 

I almost did it anyway.   Just to see her Imperial Furrosity in a pumpkin sweater for Halloween. 

Rosceline

Its not the things I do that worry me.  It is the things that I ALMOST do!

You are The Magician

Skill, wisdom, adaptation. Craft, cunning, depending on dignity.

Eleoquent and charismatic both verbally and in writing,
you are clever, witty, inventive and persuasive.

The Magician is the male power of creation, creation by willpower and desire. In that ancient sense, it is the ability to make things so just by speaking them aloud. Reflecting this is the fact that the Magician is represented by Mercury. He represents the gift of tongues, a smooth talker, a salesman. Also clever with the slight of hand and a medicine man - either a real doctor or someone trying to sell you snake oil.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Emmaline is fluff-i-licious!

Rosceline

(yep, I will probably regret this later but at the moment I am laughing my head off.)

 . . . what the watering can ever did to her Imperial Furrosity to instill terror in her very soul?

I bought it a Fred Meyers over six months ago.  It entered the house in the usual way.  Left on the floor for Emmaline to inspect for two days before I put it into service.  She made no objections to it at the time.

So now, why does she panic at the very sight of it and flee the house everytime I use it?  I haven't seen her flee from anything like that except the old vacuum cleaner.  

She even stands her ground with the new vacuum cleaner unless I am forced to actually aim it at her to get around an obstacle or something.  Discretion and valor, something like that.  But vacuum cleaners are known cat harassing monsters.  If left unattended they will inevitably try and suck up an unwarry tail.  But a watering can?  Surely if anyone should be frightened of watering cans it should be rabbits in strange gardens. 

Maybe the easiest thing would be to have one of my talented friends exorcise whatever it is lurking in the depths of the watering can and see if Emmaline could come to terms with the silly thing again minus its evil cat eating monster. 

(Those of you who are wondering . . . no, I never watered the cat.) 

Totally bizzarred out by this new cat-foible, and a little disappointed in my elegant, competent feline overlord indulging in mindless hysteria.

Rosceline

Thank you, thank you, thank you Gwalchgwen for finally getting a picture of my actual and not simulated Feline Overlord in the right size and format for my icon.  Yep, that is the real thing.  Her Imperial Furrosity in the flesh.  For those of you who don't understand why I say "yes, Ma'am" when she meows in her imperial way, just look at the flashing eyes of doom and believe. 

At least I don't have to fear her catching on that my icon for Livejournal has been an impostor for the last 18 months.  Whew!  I feel so much more secure going to bed now without turning the computer completely off!

Victory!

Rosceline

Its Columbus Day. 

I don't revere Columbus.  Lief Erikson did it first and he actually knew where the hell he was when he did it!

So if you have the day off tomorrow, enjoy it.  But remember.  Columbus didn't discover anything the Norwegians hadn't been trying to keep to themselves for 900 some odd years. 

Rosceline

So, I was making a list of the food I need for the cupboards and apparently, I forgot Sparrow.  I don't know what I was thinking about.  When you don't have Sparrow, you are out of Sparrow. 

So Emmaline (the feline overlord) provided and there I was thinking that I was perfectly ready to go over to Krazy Kat and teach hardanger, all packed and ready to go and what was I going to do with the last ten minutes...just what I needed Sparrow in the living room.  Apparently, the kitchen is where nasty monkey food goes.  spiffy cat treats all get stored in the living room. 

I am beginning to hate that cat door. 

anyway, there she was, mouth full of sparrow, nice juicy looking sparrow still complaining about being eaten.  (I am crying at this point)  I suspect it was on the blackberries in the backyard having a snack and forgot to keep an eye out for very large black and white long-haired cats, who move like the wind. 

I thought it was broken and/or dead.  the last two didn't live beyond my getting them separated from the cat and out on the front porch.  I get freaked out handling the corpses when they are still warm and I needed to go or I was going to be late.  then I took a good look and found it was very much alive, (actually, hyperventilating is closer to the truth)  Emmaline had wandered off and gotten a drink of water and was on her way out for more.  (stocking up - remember?)  so there I am with sparrow in the living room and it needs to go out.  so I go get papertowels to pick it up in and it's not so badly hurt that it wanted to be picked up.  in fact, it leapt flapping out of my hands and raced like a quail across the living room. 

marvelous. 

I tried to point out that it really didn't want to be a sparrow in the house and that Emmaline wasn't the gracious hostess that other people think she is... so it ran behind the futon.  so I got a broad brimmed hat and tried to coax it to run out the front door after hasty preparations, (see id. requiem for a mouse) yeah right, no such luck.  the feather brained creature ran right past the front door and under the buffet. 

I chased it into the office and finally picked it up in a shoebox like with salad tongs (very, very gently) long enough to take it outside.  I have good hopes for a complete recovery.  it was unhappy with its left wing but was doing quite creditable flapping and actually got a foot off the ground twice while I was trying to get it out of the house. 

I ended up leaving it awkwardly perched on a branch of the dogwood tree giving me the eye and gathered my things up to race to Krazy Kat and my class. 

Thank you Emmaline, you are planning on sleeping for the rest of the day, right?

Rosceline

Query - define "Magic Genie" as opposed to the normal kind.  To be a Genie or a Djinn is to be magical.  To have powers that are not unmagical.

I have run some pretty scary and amazing things through the washing machine in my life.  A piece of heirloom jewelry comes to mind.  Came out safe, intact and quite amazingly clean.  (I am sure I am going to be haunted over that one, eventually)

Several of my SCA awards, oops!

One of the cat's favorite Italian sports mice.  Never smelled quite as good after it had been through the laundry. 

Several ballpoint pens and one quite old and treasured fountain pen.  Perhaps not so surprising the ballpoints were trash but the fountain pen, thank the dieties for tightly fitting lids, lived and wrote on. 

Quite a few paperclips, rubber bands and post-it notes that might have said something important once upon a time.  This, however is a new low, even for me. 

If I have ever fed the washing machine candy before, it never confessed.  I am holding in my hand the unopened wrapper to a Jolly Rancher that I just fished out of the washing machine.  The candy is still inside.  No where as large as it was when it started its little adventure but still very much present. 

I hope the washing machine brushed its teeth well afterwards.  I can't afford to take it to the dentist.  I suspect I am going to have to remember to check the pockets before I run the wash.  ooops!

Rosceline

What is up with me, migraines and Monday?  I checked my calendar and I have had four migraines this year all of them starting on Monday.  I woke up with a screamer this morning.  I have gone over the entireity of my weekend and can't find a single trigger on my list. 

Grump!

Rosceline

Anyone else see The Duchess?  It is an account of the Duchess of Devonshire from about the 1740's through the 1780's or there abouts. 

The costuming was spot on. What I know about the history, literature, morals and such like of the times, the rest of it was spot on too. 

If you haven't seen it, make sure you take a really good look at the fact that they are shouting their marital problems in front of footmen who are doing their best to become stone statues.  and for the most part, succeeding. 

Seriously good, bitter sweet movie.

Rosceline

Your Soul Is Connected to the Winter

You approach life with a zen-like calm that other people envy. Nothing rattles you. You are smart, thoughtful, and very serious. You don't stress out, but you don't take much lightly. You like to keep to yourself, and you've been called shy - even if you don't consider yourself that way. You prefer a cozy, quiet life filled with ideas, books, and maybe a few friends.

So now the theif is trying to say the theft of my candy dish was meant as a joke and was misinterpreted.   Oh, and that is all my fault!

Let me think about that one.  Attempting Mid-Orbital Reorientation Spin Adjustment . . . FAILS!

Wrong!  When you have nurtured and fostered an adversarial backbiting relationship with someone you don't play questionable practical jokes on them expecting them to assume it was all in good fun. 

Sorry, try that one again and I won't stop laughing until Christmas.

Rosceline

. . . send thank you note to Satan for the invitation to the ice skating party.  Have prior committment.  Otherwise I would love to go . . .

Anyone who has been following my tale of the office thief will be as surprised as I was, that today I received a sincere, heartfelt and complete apology for the theft of the candy dish and the bad behavior towards me over the last year or so that lead up to the theft of the candy dish. 

Could have knocked me over with a feather, luckily I was sitting down at the time. 

The best part of all is that she really meant it and I believe actually intends to change her behavior towards me. 

It takes some of the glow off the apology to find out, as I did later, that she was in line to be fired for said offense when one of the other attorneys came to her rescue and got her another chance.  And, told her in good round terms what was in the wind and what was done about it. 

I guess I will credit the tears in her eyes to relief and the realization that she hadn't fooled anyone, except maybe herself.   I hope she can keep it up.  It would make working in the office so much nicer not to have to constantly be on my guard against her. 

Rosceline

Only. 

Only children don't have to compete with siblings for their parents love so they are more secure. 

They don't have people eternally claiming posession of their toys and belongings, borrowing without the curtesy of asking or breaking or down right stealing their things so they don't have to be so parsimonious or grabbing with posessions.  Only children actually know how to share. 

However, this only child would have given almost anything to have someone to play games with besides the cat who really didn't care if it was his move or not at parchesi.