What I knit on my days off.

I've begun a series of baby bonnets for the AIDs care orphange in Africa. Easy knit and hopefully easy fit. The ribbons go around the head and tie under the chin.

ON this trip I knit four and a quarter bonnets, used up all my yellow yarn, and started the emergency back-up knitting, another diagonal scarf using about two ounces of two colors of sock yarns. It's working up rather nicely, if a bit narrow.

And since everyone loves kitties, here is a picture of Red, the cat who sleeps on that lovely white 1937 ford. Red walked into the garage one day, and won Harry over with his cheery good nature. Red is a "guy's cat" and preffers to hang out in the garage, supervising work on cars, and watching sporting events on the garage TV. He is sufficiently well-mannered, however, to allow a lady (me for example) to hold him on her lap and rub his ears. Not that he actually likes it or anything . . . (male cats, in front of the other guys, sometimes need to pretend they're cool.)

Life back at home is pretty good. The weather is perfect - sunny and room-temperature. Work still hasn't kicked into high gear, and the kitty sitter did a splendid job so there isn't a lot of crap to shovel out. When we walked in the door, all the fur faces came rushing up, singing happy songs. OK so the songs were, "Where the hell have you been? We want our treats!" But obviously they were'nt used to running in fear when the door was opened, so she must have treated them kindly.

The neighbor's pretty brindled pit bull has dug a hole under the fence. Again. It looks as if the solution to this dillemma is to dig a trench about two feet deep all along the fence line, and fill it with cement blocks. Not even our dog, and we gotta break our backs and spend our money to keep it under control. Maybe DH would be willing to talk to the neighbor, a strong, healthy young man, and see if he'd be willing to help. I leave neighborhood negotiations to DH. I get too defensive of my own territory. DH is more likely to say, "You know, your dog sure seems to like to dig." whereas I'm likely to say, "Your fracking dog's wrecking our fence, crapping on our lawn, and scaring the life out of our cats and I'll sue your ass into the next county if you don't shoot the bitch!!" And then, I'm likely to lose my temper.

On the other hand, I am silk and razorblades when it comes to phone work, so I do all the calling and talking to beaureaucrats. We make a damn fine team.