Sunny weekend = FO pictures!

After all the running around last week, I had Friday off, which made for a nice long weekend - and a sunny one at that.

Just what did I do with my beautiful long weekend? Well, I finished things, of course:

I've been calling this Shetland Skies:

It reminds me of the sky in a Van Gogh painting.

Isn't it pretty?

Pattern: Shetland Triangle
Yarn: Sea Silk
Needles: 3.5mm
State of Happiness: Elated

This is the blasted Victorian Shoulderette that I made intending to give it to my maternal (non-knitting) grandmother:

I cursed my way through every stitch. I just don't find garter stitch lace to be intuitive at all. My hat is off to Sivia Harding for designing the wretched thing. I may have to say a prayer over it or something to ward off all the evil feelings I hold toward it.
Funny thing is that I love how it looks on. Who woulda thunk it?

Pattern: Victorian Shoulderette
Yarn: Knit Picks Alpaca somethin' or other (cloud?)
Needles: Only the ones I used to gouge out my eyes.
State of Happiness: Relief. Like the kind you feel after meeting an ex-boyfriend or ex-friend in the mall and being forced to make small talk until you manage to come up with a reasonable excuse and get out of there!

What was Mr. Happy doing while I was running around the house, finishing projects, making him lunch and doing laundry?

He was painting the trim on the SS Yarn Barn:

...and he deserved every draw from that bottle of beer.

Pippin was having a grand old time running around our back yard, alternating between coming to me for snuggles and skritchy scratches:

And rough-housing with "Unca Andwew""

Mr. Happy was kind enough to take my FO photos, and we had a good laugh about this out-take:

Pippin asks, "What we lookin' at, Auntie Sessanie?"

And this one, that I took. Talk about timing:

Run, Pippin, run!

Pippin says:

"I AM NOT AN OUT-TAKE. I AM A CUTIE PIE."

After all that hard work and play, Mr. Happy and I headed over to Halifax to have supper at Chabaa Thai. On our way there, we spotted something funny in the window above Port of Wines:

Can you see it?

Click here to find out what it is.

This Week in Stephanie

Good gawd, this was a busy week. 

Monday night I got my hair cut again - I went for a trim but got a cut, if you know what I mean. After my haircut, a certain blog slacker arrived for a last minute sleepover. Despite my best intentions, I didn't get to bed until midnight.

Tuesday night was KOL. I met up with one of the KOLers earlier so we could chat. 

Wednesday, I crawled out of bed at 6am to attend my company's charity golf tournament. No, I don't golf, silly. We have to work at the tournament. And we work hard*. But I did get to spend my day like this:

I sat at the 4th hole and explained the "closest to the prize" game that we had set up. It was our first year running that game so the person in charge of organizing the tournament volunteered me to work that tee. It was quite nice at the 4th hole, the sun was shining, there was a hawk flying in the air, the golfers were friendly and funny... and the icy cold wind which was blowing off the lake made me wish I had worn my long stripey socks.

I did a lot of schmoozing with the golfers who came through. They would pull up to the tee, see me sitting there, and would say,

"You're knitting?"

My reply (only to those I knew well) was, "Hey, I may be knitting, but you're golfing. I don't think either of us are in a position to criticize."

On Thursday, I again crawled out of bed at "arse crack o'clock" to drive to Blackville, NB with my coworker. We drove the 4.5 hours to Blackville for a 20th anniversary celebration. We stopped for coffee, but not for lunch, so by the time we were almost there, I was threatening to eat one of the porcupines who had dared to cross the highway (and hadn't made it). Now, I usually try to keep the blog and work quite separate, but I have a good reason for talking about this trip. When we arrived at our destination, this was waiting for us. This, right here, ladies and gents:

is the best damn slab cake I've ever eaten in my life! It was marble cake with the creamiest, lightest frosting. It came from Patty Cakes in the Miramichi. If I ever meet the woman who made it, I'll kiss her right where she eats.

After about 4 pieces, my coworker looked at me and said, "Stephanie, I think you're going to have to drive."

I replied, "Why, Dave?"

Dave burped and said, "I've had too much cake."

heh heh. It was that good.

Dave did drive, despite the sugar high, which allowed me to snap pictures on the way home. This:

is a sure sign that we were in my home province of New Brunswick.

And this:

is a disgruntled postal employee perhaps? (CUPW: Canadian Union of Postal Workers) Needless to say, we didn't tailgate him.

When we arrived home, 14 hours later, there was someone waiting to snuggle with me:

Pippin!

He had actually arrived on Wednesday night, but he looked so cute on Thursday night when I got home.

Ok, ok, one more picture:

Whoop, did I mention that someone got sheared? Pippin spent so much time swimming in the ocean and the lake that his fur was well and properly matted. The groomer released him from his furry straight jacket, making it possible for you to see how fit he is from all that swimming. He has amazingly strong legs.

Who has a six pack? Who does? Who?


* I really don't want to minimize the amount of work that goes into the golf tournament: If you've ever organized an event like this then you understand that it doesn't all come together like magic. There are a thousand tiny details to manage both before the tournament and on the day of. By the time I got to sit down at the 4th hole we had already been at the course for 3 hours.

Why Did We Have to Leave?

Re-entry into the "real" world hasn't been the easiest. It was very hard to leave the cottage behind.  Can you blame me when the view from the deck in the evening glows as golden as this?

When something as simple as a walk leads you down a lane this perfect?

Where it's ok if you knit all day long, even when you're a growing boy who only sits still long enough to eat mass quantities of food:

Where swimming is fun for everyone: Humans,

and dogs alike:

When your bed buddy is as cute as this?

Where, when the sun shines, you can't imagine why you would want to be anyplace else?

Some Flatulence and a 3am Adventure

As you can already see by the title, this isn't going to be a story of sunshine, roses and how I slept soundly and peacefully throught the night. Considering that I am starting to type this story at 11:26pm, I'm somewhat concerned that last night's adventure may have affected my brain.

Last night Andrew went back to work. He had (finally) recuperated from whatever it was that he caught / did in Texas that caused him to be quite sick for 3 days.

Last night was also knitting night. Ok, every night is knitting night, but last night was "Knitting Night". Two friends, one old, one new, came over to sit around, talk, eat brownies and knit... and to celebrate a painted hallway and kitchen ceiling without an ominous hole. Pippin, the canine version of Tigger, was quite excited to have company. He bounced all over them and then, eventually settled down.

When he did settle down there were dire consequences. "A" suddenly exclaimed "Oh dear, I think Pippin just farted." "A" has a dog, a baby and a husband at home. She knows her stuff, so she was not being presumptuous when she blurted this out. Nor was she wrong. The three of us started gagging. I grabbed a candle that was already burning in the dining room and brought it into the room where we sitting.

Then, he farted again. Our eyes started to water. I said to "G", the new friend, "I'd just like to welcome you again to my home. I'm so glad you came - would you like a set of nose plugs or shall I just light a few more matches?"

Ladies and gentlemen, after fart #3, I was starting to fear for my new paint job. That puppy coulda peeled the paint off the wall with the demons that were coming out of his hind end last night. Gag!

So after the girls left (note: am quite glad that these two are both biologists who work in a lab with horrible fish smells), Pippin's issue seemed to go away and he snuggled up on the couch. I called Angela and we had the Bidet discussion... After bidding her goodnight and then madly blogging about our discussion (still reeling that she WROTE the word ass in my comments) it was then well past my bedtime.

I looked at Pippin. He was looked so cute and innocent as he lay curled up on the couch. I thought to myself "I shouldn't put that poor dog into his kennel. I know what I'll do, I'll take him upstairs with me. Andrew can put him into the kennel whenever he gets home." And with that, I told Pippin to follow me up the stairs.

For the next two and a half hours I was awake every 5 to 10 minutes as Pippin moved around on the bed. At 2:45am, he jumped off the bed in such a way that I realized he had to go out. I had a dog for 12 years, I know the "I've gotta pee" signs inside and out.

We plodded downstairs and I let Pippin out into the our fenced in back yard. It was a beautiful moonlit night. I stood near the back door and watched him do his "business". Then I opened the door and called to him in that whisper you reserve for night-time campground discussions, stage whispers and desperately begging a dog to come in at 2:50am.

Pippin turned and looked at me as if I was speaking in whale song. Then he spotted his tennis ball in the snow. I ducked into the kitchen and grabbed the box of Milk Bones that I have been using for this exact purpose. I opened the back door again and held out the box. I rattled the box; Pippin turned.

"Pippin, come on!" I stage whispered.

Pippin crouched down, tennis ball in mouth, butt in the air, tail wagging and a playful expression on his face.

"Pippin, Come!"

Pippin danced back and forth across the lawn in that same pose.

"Pippin!" I was begging now.

Pippin ran in circles around my back yard.

I grabbed a jacket and my shoes and went outside with the box. I walked purposefully toward Pippin. He ducked and dove around me.

I could see my breath in the air as I said, hopefully and as cheerfully as possible, "Come here, Pippin!"

Now, for those of you who don't know, despite living in the middle of town, we have a fairly large back yard. Pippin begain running crazed laps around me, never once dropping the tennis ball. I did not chase him. The thought of running around the back yard in my pajamas while holding a box of Milk Bones, though funny, even at 2:55am, was not the kind of comedy I was prepared to participate in at that point.

I turned on my heel and went inside, hoping that he would follow. He did not. So I came into the computer room, checked my email and tried to pretend it wasn't getting closer to 3am.
I would like to say that when I went back to the door again that he was ready to come inside. He was not. So I went back outside again. And again, he zigged and zagged around me. I turned and walked inside again.

This time, thankfully, when I got inside, I turned and said "Pippin, come on!"

He came in.

Needless to say, he was marched to his kennel and locked inside. I went upstairs and decided that I would not be letting Pippin sleep with me ever again!

I wish I could show you how cute that little terd is right now as he sleeps on the floor behind me. You would never believe that he had been possessed by a deranged spirit last night.

Goodnight all - I'm heading to bed. Tomorrow is Good Friday! I think Pippin's family is home tomorrow. He's actually been very good company this last week. I'll be sad to hand him back over.

Guest Blogger: Pippin The Wheaton Terrier

Hello everyone. As you may have heard, I am visiting Aunt Sessanie this week while my family is away doing something they call Skiing in a place called Sugarloaf. Sugarloaf - sounds yummy.

Aunt Sessanie said that I could write on her blog. She said that Minou shouldn't get to have all the fun. This is kind of fun.

I'm having a good time here at Aunt Sessanie's house. It's not like home; the rules are different. At home my mommy, daddy and sometimes, my kids, push me out of rooms and they say things like "Not allowed" and "No, Pippin, no!". They get upset when I go upstairs and jump on the beds, especially when the kids are sleeping. They won't let me play on the dead cow couches, just the ones where the kids play in the basement.

At Aunt Sessanie and Uncle Andrew's house they let me go everywhere! There is more freedom for dogs here! I wonder if they are under a different system of government???

Aunt Sessanie lets me go upstairs with her every time! I get to jump on the bed. In the morning, when the sun is shining bright, these tiny creatures fly in the sun and I jump around on the bed and try to catch them. I've found that if I slide under the bed first, more of the creatures follow me out into the sun. Aunt Sessanie pulled out the loud sucking machine after I did this the first time. I think she might have killed some of the creatures, but they keep multiplying.

Aunt Sessanie plays ball with me, IN THE HOUSE! She throws the ball the from the room with the glowing box and the “mouse” the whole way to the room where the food comes from. Sometimes the ball hits a wall and she makes a funny face, but she keeps doing it! I think she must love me a lot. She even crouches down and pulls my tennis ball out from under the couch when I can’t reach it!!! Wow!

We’ve gone for a few walks since I came to stay here. Aunt Sessanie sometimes calls me a dork when we’re walking. She usually says it after I have been jumping to get the attention of another human. I think that a dork must be a nice thing because she laughs when she says it.

Oh, here is a photo of me that Aunt Sessanie took when I was missing my family. I miss them an awful lot. Especially the kids.

This is a photo of me trying to convince Auntie Sessanie’s lambie that we should be friends:

Lambie didn’t think it was such a good idea. I don’t know what his problem is. I pulled his tail and he made some clacking noises. Then Auntie Sessanie ran in and took him away from me. Here he is, probably telling her everything, the big tattle tale.

Ok, we have to go now. Auntie Sessanie says we have to pick up Uncle Andrew at the airport. This is going to be my first ride in the car with her. I hope we get to listen to some good tunes.

Slurps and Licks,
Pippin

PS: Abby the Lab lives next door to Aunt Sessanie and Uncle Andrew. I think I'm in LOVE! We're like star crossed lovers, though. There is a fence between us. We play and bark through the fence. Sometimes, we even sniff each other's noses. I wish I could get over there to visit. I really want to smell her butt.