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Posts Tagged ‘crochet’

Some are born to follow written instructions; some achieve the ability to follow written instructions and some have written instructions thrust upon them to no avail.

There is another cat-egory – the some who can only operate on the monkey-see-monkey-do purrinciple. C’est moi, KC qui purrrrle! Je suis one of those!

For many a long year I have longed to be able to get my paws around the arcane craft of crochet…

arcane – adjective; mysterious; secret; obscure; esoteric.

All the above, as far as this kitty was concerned: could I get the hang of making woolly cobwebs with an ‘ook? Could I fiddlesticks!

Then – TA-DA! a Red Letter Day (or five) arrived and with it/them came The Cub, may its shadow never grow less nor its fur moult, and Yee-Haw be praised, a little wee light bulb (low energy of course) popped up and lit the tiny space in my brain wherein lie craft&comprehension.

*For photographic purroof, see below.

Meanwhile and to catch up with developments, a tantalisingly mysterious (I know, more mystery, me’n’Marmers live in interestin’ times, do we not!) parcel appeared with the Dropper-of-Red-Rubber-bands: What could it be? (ret Q) Treats, that’s what it was…or were…from a far-off land in the West, where Frankie&Louie rool ko and tasty morsels abound. *

Pure chuffed we were, but not, in my case, greedy…unlike some I could mention.

Now all I need is a Yarn Stash. It’s what all Serious Crochety peeps have, or at least so some would have you believe. All my messy efforts so far come courtesy of Ferryport Charity Shop and 70p’s worth of assorted wool. However I now have a bit of a yearning for nice bright colours to match the stripes on the CCC loose covers, a state of affairs I mostly blame  on Attic24, as anyone who has visited her delightful, bright, happy and creative blog will understand.

Anyway, me’n’Marmers are off to Kingask House, our new gracious living home from home just outside Cupar tomorrow, where we will be relapsin’ in the lap of luxury, with heated cabins, outdoor runs and a feline meeter&greeter whose name I forget, but with whom I’m sure we will rub noses through the chicken wire. Nothing but the sound of birdsong and the sight of little mabbits gamblin’ on the rollin’ lawns to distract us; three squares a day and the attentions of a strolling female, what more could two chaps desire?

Oh purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…

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