Fishy Found his Home
Well, my cocoa swap package swam through the East Coast’s freezing rain to my downstream pal. JoAnn and Scoochie were delighted with Fishy, as I’d hoped, and as many of you predicted. I’m eager to knit up some for a mobile for the beach house, but my knitting - and crocheting - bags are already packed for four days of yarn and sand. (Nosey, aren’t you? Secret projects, Sissy’s crochet snuggle, not including the yarn I’m buying Friday morning for the baby blanket, due March 8th. Thank goodness Michelle turned me onto the pinwheel blankie!)
I hope everyone is having a nice cocoa swap. JoAnn and I met over the summer in another swap, but it was fun to have a series of emails exchanged and to learn more about her. I’m also enjoying my spoiler, and I hope her hubby is getting well. I’ll be thinking of her and her cool kid tomorrow and on Sunday. (The NASCAR fans get it Jessi.)
I’m basically packed, but Sissy… Mugsy and Fred just pout(ed) when I pack. Not Sissy. Never having experienced that a suitcase means I’m leaving for a while, Sissy just thinks it’s a big toy box. She likes knitted dishcloths, not that I have them in my suitcase, but the girl has a clean, folded laundry fetish. Sweet Mugsy has taken Dadaw at his word, and/or knows what the doggy duffle bag looks like, so he’s nice and calm, just watching Sissy with mild annoyance. (I did tell y’all about the Knight teaching Mugsy “beach” in November, didn’t I?)
Since so many of you are north of me, just to make sure you hate me… the Knight is packing shorts. Saturday, it won’t make 50 degrees, but Friday and Sunday it will be in the 60s. I’ll take pictures, and maybe even get sunburned for you, okay?
This just in! While I was grabbing Fishy’s photo, the Knight began attempting to catch Sissy and take some foreign object from her mouth. This in itself is hardly noteworthy, as it happens about a dozen times each and every day. However, it cracked me up that the soggy mess extracted from her mouth was my luggage tag, the paper part anyway. Maybe she gets the suitcase’s leaving you behind aura after all. The best part though? The Dog Whisperer as friends and relations call the Knight had to admit that “She doesn’t listen to me.” Ha! After twelve years of being outnumbered sometimes as much as four to one, girl power is at work. I simply said, “Sissy?” and she launched herself over Mugsy, plowing into my left side and the Knight’s frustrated hands. Good girl. She’ll get a reward for that later.







