Oh, my holy trousers.

Stephen Fry reads from his memoir on BBC Radio 4. I particularly liked the bit about a fax machine and Stephen Sondheim. Hurry, the links expire in a week.

Ain't no use.

So. 

My 35th high school reunion came and went last weekend, and I didn't attend. I had decided to go, at one point. It would have been great to see this, that, or another person after all these years. Then it became apparent that, out of a class of 500, maybe 25 people were attending. And these people were not my friends, or even my good buddies.

I am positive that if I had gone, I would have been happily welcomed. These folk had not been overtly hateful to me, back in the day, as dozens of others had been.

But, on the other hand, neither had they been there to comfort me when my mother died. The memory of me weeping uncontrollably in class, during a showing of "Brian's Song," not long after her funeral, still lingers. No person, not even the teacher, thought to offer me tissues. 

I became quite ill during my final semester of senior year with Grave's Disease and I could not continue school. My mother had had thyroid disease, too.

I cannot recall anybody, save for two friends and my high school counselor, who gave a rat's ass about me or tried to help. (After all these years, my memory may be faulty.)

I never graduated high school. I had surgery, a partial thyroidectomy, the summer of '75, and even my older brothers were absent. Where were they?

I left home for good that August, and still I wonder why I keep looking back, wishing and hoping that I missed something.

The Tails of Three Mice

So, it's getting to be fall around here, and the creatures are going about their business of surviving winter. The hummingbirds have flown south, raccoons are staking out territory, I am putting on weight. 

And the outside mice are trying to become inside mice.

The first one I found thanks to Millie, who had it cornered in the linen closet. She flushed it out and took it to the bath tub and released the little thing. It was a baby whose body was no more than an inch long. She caught it again and let it go. Then she pawed it a bit as it struggled to climb the sheer, slick walls. I picked it up by the tail, took it outside, and let it loose.

The second I found in the kitchen sink, about 11 in the evening, and again the porcelain walls prevented escape. For this grown one, I used a dishcloth to pick it up and he, too, went outside.

That's when I finally located the mousetrap, baited it with peanut butter, and went to bed. About 2 am, Foxy and Princess both went nuts and woke me up, so I checked on the trap. It was nowhere to be seen. Damn Millie must have ran off with the entire thing. I looked for her without luck, then went back to bed. 

Up this morning, bright and early, to get Sweetie off to work. Doors open and close, and in comes Millie from the outside. Hmmm. I hear a bell, and notice Reece's on a kitchen chair, and look down under the table. There is the mouse with a trap closed onto its hind foot. 

"You want me to shoot it?" Sweetie asked as I took it outside.  

"No, you don't hang a man twice," I replied as I pried open the spring and watched it scamper away.

It's Free! Only a dollar.

No sooner than I cast off and finished the shawl,  did I cast on for the Seaside Cardigan, a free download on Ravelry. The shaping will indeed look good on my body, although I'm not crazy about the sleeves.  I'll most likely make the sleeves wrist length and plain, with maybe one lace motif to finish. The knitting of it proceeds apace; it is a neck down pattern with raglan sleeves. I am using the green tweedy Cascade 220 I bought from WEBS for the pullover sweater Wisteria, because I decided that a cardigan would do me better service in the long run. I was also having trouble getting gauge with the Wisteria. I hate it when that happens.

It is still unseasonable warm here, and very dry, although there is rain in the forecast for tomorrow and a few more days after. The grass doesn't need cutting, but I should get out there and chop up the fallen maple leaves so they can become mulch and not grass killing mats.

Foxy woke me up this morning around 2am, and I looked out into the front yard to see if there was anything truly out there. I saw Millie in the driveway, or so I thought; it didn't respond when called or jingle as it moved. It was a raccoon, and I was perhaps ill-advised to approach it unarmed, which I did. Shoo! Scat! I said loudly, and it lumbered slowly across the yard. I found a long stick, which I shook at the beast and sometimes was able to even poke at its slowly moving behind. I finally had moved it into Good Neighbor Nancy's yard, which I thought was far enough away for the time being.

All chickens and current outside bunnies are accounted for, although I worry about Chocolate Chip's latest litter who are possibly still blind and helpless under the house. Time to tighten the doors to the crawl spaces.

The trees that still have leaves, here in Lovely LAconia

The Red Oak

The Cottonwood (r) and Aspen

The Locust

The Lombardy Poplar and Apple

Scottie's Weeping Willow

Done and done

L'il Bunny Foo Foo blocking

This is how I plan to wear it.

This is more close to the actual color.

Particulars: Body - Misty Alpaca, Border Ruffle - Skacel Merino Lace dyed burgundy

Pattern - L'il Bunny Foo Foo which I found on Ravelry, I am sure, but cannot locate. copyright 2009 MMario Leo a Pola de Finale Emelia. There were directions for making a half-square, three-quarter square, and square.

Needles: American size 3 circular

Border: My own. The shawl pattern ended with about 550 stitches, and I increased by 1/3 via yarn-overs three different times. There were just under 1200 stitches in the final bind-off.

Scoopin' Up the Field Mice...

Here she is, before end weaving and blocking. Three quarters of a square, and there were about 1200 stitches bound off at the end.

I had never heard the "L'il Bunny Foo Foo" song before this. I merely thought it was an interesting pattern.



Southpark, on the other hand, had.