A mystery and an experiment

I'm not sure what happened last night. Maybe Pyewacket just reached her Bob-less limit and had to have some cuddling, even if it was only me. Or maybe it was the knitting--she adores wool. I'd been on the phone with Barb for awhile, and while I was talking to her I was winding wool into balls, standing up and winding it off the back of one of the dining room chairs.

After I got off the phone I picked up my knitting and worked on that for awhile, and at some point Pyewacket jumped up on my lap and without even hesitating, curled up on top of the knitting and started purring. She never purrs for me, it's a major event. So of course I didn't shoo her off, I petted her and told her she was a sweet kitty, and she turned over on her back with her paws in the air, and fell asleep.

Or maybe it wasn't real sleep, maybe it was just the feigned, "Oh, I'm asleep, so you can't disturb me" possum sleep, but whatever, it was pretty cute. And she was either asleep, or so comfortable and bent on staying on my lap that she let me turn completely around in the chair to grab the digital camera, and she didn't even blink.

Soon after that, though, after I'd been stroking her tummy for awhile, she got what we term "kitty overload," a term coined way back with Doña. Pet a kitty long enough and they'll turn on you. Pyewacket kind of rolls up into a ball (Misty says she rolls up like a pill bug, and she does!) and grabs you with her claws and teeth. Her claws are mostly kind of blunt, though, and she doesn't really bite hard, just enough to make you play with her for a couple of minutes, then dump her off onto the floor, where she kind of shakes herself ("Well, that was fun!"), and walks off into the kitchen to get a snack.

I really wanted to bring the tote bag in to work to work on it on my lunch hour, and I packed up my bag with the knitting, the extra needles, the row counter, the scissors, and the pattern, but then when I was upstairs getting dressed and brushing my hair, I realized how much my arms hurt, and decided I really need a break from it. So I didn't. I brought the sock bag, and if I decide to knit, I'll work on the socks.

I'm almost finished with the bag, I just need to do a few more rows on the bottom, then go back and pick up the stitches along the top and do a couple more rows so it doesn't curl, then do the straps, and I was thinking I might make a flap to close it, and then maybe a pocket . . . I guess I won't be felting it anytime soon, probably not until the weekend.

Did I describe felting? What I'm doing is knitting this huge floppy bag using big needles and a loose gauge, then I'm going to wash it in the washing machine in hot water which--you'll recognize this if you've ever accidentally washed a wool sweater--will cause the wool fibers to kind of mesh together, shrink, and form a cohesive fabric. Felt. Pretty cool.

There are variables--different yarns felt differently, i.e., at different speeds and with different results, and the whole process is kind of a gamble anyway--unless you use exactly the same yarn that the pattern calls for you don't really know what your piece is going to look like once it comes out of the hot water. And even then, with the differences in agitation, water temperature, etc., you may not get the exact same results.

So it's all sort of an experiment, and a mystery, and perfect for my "create something every day" month.