Friday free

I don't have anything scheduled to do today. I have to clean cat boxes and buy groceries and stuff, but no one to meet at a certain time. I'm gonna do a day without my watch!

I got one quarter done on the surprise sweater yesterday. I'm knitting a blue skein, then an orange skein, then a blue skein, and finishing with the second orange skein. The shaping of the sweater will lend a lot of style to the simple huge stripes. I may even have time to go shopping for perfect buttons.

If I were a true pioneer woman, I would go harvest the daffodil leaves and use them to weave baskets. But I won't because all too often, I harvest stuff and leave it in the garage to make a home for urban wildlife.

And now we have mice in the house. I was fixing my morning tea, and a fat grey blur scurried the length of the kitchen and SQUEEZED impossibly under the closed cupobard door under the sink. The recesses of the under-sink space is sprinkled with mouse turds. I have no idea where they are getting in and out. The cats were all sitting around my feet, waiting for the good chow, not that crappy stuff I just opened and dished out for them (never feed them tuna. They will forever after expect nothing less) and when the mouse made his sprint, they sat back nudging one another. "You get it." "Screw that! You get it" "It looks bitey. Let Candy get it. It's women's work." They crept up and sniffed cautiously at the mouse turds when I swept them out, then sat back with the upper lip lifted, savoring the bouquet. (It's called "flemening" I think. They are moving the scent to different sensory glands to cross-reference it.) Then they went back to demanding tuna. I threw them outside. It's not that I would want to eat a raw mouse, but I don't wash my butt with my tongue, either. Having opposable thumbs means you have certain priveledges and perrogatives, among which is absolute control of the can-opener and the doorknob.

Note to self: buy mousetraps.