Memorial Day

Since it’s Memorial Day, I guess it’s time to share a recent patriotic finish.

Glory Fob by Shepherd’s Bush.

I didn’t finish it as a fob, just a pincushion. I didn’t want ric-rac for a scissor loop. *shrug* You’ll notice the floss on the back side’s flag ran. I don’t remember how it happened, but I do remember trying to use a Q-Tip and hydrogen peroxide to clean up the mess. Yeah. I don’t recommend that. It made it worse. I laughed (what else could I do at that point?) and smirked to myself, “So much for ‘These colors don’t run!’ ” I’m a wise-ass, it just came to me. I didn’t even have to try. 😀

Also, since it’s Memorial Day, I’m going to honor my kitten, Hero. We put him down this week, as he had the rare, incurable disease known as FIP, or feline infectious peritonitis. In households with one or two cats, the odds are one in 5,000 that a cat will contract the disease. As my brother reminded me, I have terrible luck with cats. Hero was technically my son’s cat, so we plan to replace him this summer. For now, I can’t remove his bed from my desk, where he insisted on sitting when I worked on the computer.  He may have been the boy’s cat, but I was his mama.  He was a very sweet fella.  He couldn’t seem to catch a break.  It ain’t right, but nobody ever said life is fair.

My sweet Hero, helping me stitch, very sick

Happy Memorial Day.  I hope you get to stitch this weekend.

Hero’s Welcome

On November 21, we brought home a new family member: Hero. He’s a rescue kitten, so named because he survived a precarious situation. He was one of four littermates, all of whom were supposed to be rescued. By the time he was rescued, his siblings had been given away to families in similar circumstances as their mother. Hero had almost no coat, he had fleas and worms. He was quarantined in a bathroom for six weeks, enduring multiple treatments for worms. Poor dear. He is very sweet. He does like to fight, a little too roughly, but we’re working on that. When the boy is in school, I don’t get any two-handed computer time, as he begs to sit in my lap. He cleans me, he purrs, and watches the computer screen with rapt attention. He’s already spoiled–condo taller than me, water fountain, toys galore. I wonder if he’s forgotten his original circumstances yet?

He yells at me! When he loses a toy, he lets me know, asks for help. He’s a dear.

I have been stitching, I swear. I hope I manage to share with everyone soon.