lace trim. Not sure what I’ll use it for.
I finished two things: a piece of lace trim and a baby blanket. Both items feature hairpin lace. At the moment I am addicted to hairpin lace but I’m hoping that isn’t going to last. I feel the looms calling. Since I have two weaving projects going, I should be doing those. It will happen, I’m sure.
Baby blanket. Need to finish the sides. Done with the hairpin lace part. 3 types of yarn, all fuzzy.
Now for the cat story.
The infamous tree as seen in daylight
Every night I play a game with the cats before we go in for the night. One of the more popular games is catch me if you can. I chase a cat to its hiding place and then it runs from me. Great fun. This is done outside in the back yard where there are lots of places to hide. I bring a flashlight as it is dark and my backyard is not very even. Also, I now live closer to farmland where public light is discouraged.
Usually when I chase one cat, the other cat soon comes to play the game. This one night I was chasing Fredericka (the female) while waiting for George (the male) to arrive. Only he didn’t. TJ, the neighbors cat did though. TJ meows to announce his arrival. So when I heard meowing I thought it was TJ announcing himself. Only I looked at TJ and he wasn’t meowing. The flashlight roamed the yard searching for the cat making the noise. Pretty soon I looked up into the tree where I spotted George sitting on a branch of a 100-year-old tree. A branch that was placed twice as high as my house. There was George sitting in the crook of the tree at night on a branch making the same mewing noise as he did when I found him. The meowing that said: “Save me! Save me!”
I did what any cat owner does with a cat stuck high in a tree. No, I didn’t leave him in the tree all night. I will the next time but this was the first time. It was night and the moon was only half full and he was way up in a tree. So high that I had to crick my neck to look at him. How to get him to get himself down? I tried mental telepathy coupled with the flashlight. I’d think “this way” and then show him by using the flashlight to mark the path. It didn’t work. What the flashlight did though was call the neighbors kitten to come play. On one of the flashlight trips down the tree I caught a kitten climbing up the tree. I not so gently moved the kitten off the tree who then proceeded to either trip me as I walked around the tree or tried climbing the tree again.
So in the house I went to get a painters ladder. One of those nice stable ones with 4 points on the ground that will let one climb 10 feet. I thought if I could just get him to the tip of the branch George could jump and I would catch him. Let me tell you how well mental telepathy works with a cat. I got him to the middle of the branch by using the flashlight to trace a path but he failed to get the message to jump. The kitten finally caught on though and was trying to help me by climbing the steps of the ladder with me.
I gave up on the step-ladder. I got out the big ladder. One of those two-part ladders that can go way up in the sky. The ladder that is heavy and clumsy to move with only one person. This should have been my first clue that I needed help. I managed to get it to the tree where I looked into my back porch only to see the mama cat and all three of her kittens, including the helpful kitten exploring. I lost it. I woke my neighbors up.
” Please come get your cats out of my back porch while I try to get my cat out of the tree. ” I gruffly told the woman who answered the door. She got her shoes on so to follow me back to my house where there were no cats anywhere in the house. She did help me get the ladder on the tree though so I could do some climbing. She then suggested that her husband would be better at this and went to get him. I found the visiting cats with my flashlight back on my neighbors’ property. Grrr.
We got the ladder positioned safely and up the ladder I went. Up to this moment the most daring thing I ever did was to drive across the Mississippi river all by myself. I am afraid of bridges. I kept my eye on the lane I was in and made it all the way across the bridge without falling into the water, wrecking or freezing up. That is what I did on the ladder. I would go up a rung, pause, look at the tree, look at George and go up another rung. About midway I looked at the tree to see the helpful kitten also climbing. I picked the kitten up and dropped him into the neighbors’ waiting hands and climbed another rung. Six feet away from George I stopped. It took some talking (read meowing, who knew I could speak cat?) but he finally climbed the 6 feet to me and we made it safely down.
The really sad thing about this story? I no longer have an excuse not to clean my gutters. I can climb the ladder. I’m still going to wait for someone to be there watching my back though. I need to know how many rungs there are to the bottom.