Reclaiming That Which Is Rightfully Mine

I established my knitting room. I love it there. It's a happy place, with an overstuffed chair and a big ottoman. The catbox moved in....grrrr....fine. The cats moved in with it. Okay, I love them. Their hair came with them, coating every surface - including that wonderful chair and ottoman. It's all good - I covered them both with a towel.

And Roosevelt, because he loves me, jumped up on the ottoman yesterday, carefully moved the towel aside, and yakked a giant hairball onto my beloved ottoman.

OUT!!! Catbox, cats, dogs, everyone OUT!!

I reclaimed my knitting room, declared it off-limits, and went in last night to sit and relax and start on some pomatamotomus tomatompatopus potatoanonymous fish socks. (Note: I'm pretty sure I'm doing them wrong.)

Not five minutes of quiet knitting passed before one cat and both dogs had joined me - Roosevelt began grooming himself aggressively, arming himself for the next time I have the gall to cover up any surface he has deemed yak-worthy. Seconds later, Travis trotted in, pulled a chair up, grabbed my laptop, and read chunks of the day's stock reports to me.

But really, I still love my domestic bliss!

Today, I will go to Michael's and purchase a dowel, a few wooden toy-car wheels, a few hooks, and go home to attempt to build myself a few spindles. I have no roving - I'll go ahead and order some - but I bet you I'm so impatient that I'll start spinning cotton balls into yarn. Actually, I probably won't get that far - while making the spindle, I'll create a tremendous mess, drill a hole in my fingernail, super-glue my lips together, get a splinter in my armpit, and retreat to declare that I have no idea how I did any of that, and would someone please take me to the hospital? (Which request, because of the unfortunate super-glue incident, will probably sound a lot like "Mrrrrrumphhh!"

Welcome to my weekend.