seven scarlet scarves

Last night, I finished another red scarf, and since today was a day off when the heavens were not pouring down buckets of rain nor trying to blow my hair off nor freezing my very nose-hairs, I decided to try shooting a picture of the red scarves under natural light. Unlike most of you, we don't have a lot of gracious, scenic locations in our yard. So I draped the scarves in a pseudo-artistic manner in one of our rosebushes, warning said rosebush that if it tried to eat the scarves, pruning would be swift and brutal. The warning worked. All the scarves were recoverd intact, which is more than I can say for my skin. I guess rosebushes don't like to be threatened.

I have completed a pair of short-fingered gloves - beloved, for some reason, by many of the men I know. DH shows off his pair, and all the other guys want some too. Hope these will fit OK. DH and I have hands much the same size and shape - long and narrow. Makes it hard to guesstimate for other people.

I noticed, this morning, that my yarn basket was making funny little noises. Cautiously, I approached. Have the moths gotten that big? Are the dustbunnies trying to reunite with their parent culture?

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No, Candy had simply found another wonderful spot for a nap. All that lovely, squooshy wool yarn to treadle with her little feeties untill it makes the perfect kitty nest.

You may have noticed that Candy has an odd ear. She was spayed by the Feral Cat Society of Oregon, who, to make sure they don't try to perform hysterectomies on the same cats repeatedly, clip the tip of one ear on each of their patients. It makes the neutered cats quickly identifiable in the wild. Candy, however, turned out to be quite adoptable, and has settled in with us very happily. Lucky us!