Bloggy Stuff and Kitties

I am borrowing a bloggy thing from a bloggy friend. Knitted and Purled keeps track of the books she reads... and this year I'm going to do the same. (I know you're all waiting with baited breath to see what I'll be reading. Really, the tension is palpable). Ok, so the first book of the year is The Day I Ate Whatever I Wanted: And Other Small Acts of Liberation by Elizabeth Berg(1).
This book was so good and so easy to slip into... I recognized the characters right away and wanted to buy a copy for every woman I know.
So half of you need to buy it, read it, fall in love with it and then pass it on. I'm giving my copy to The Fabulous Michelle to thank her for taking care of my kitties while I'm in North Carolina.

Speaking of North Carolina, I'm totally packed. I know, right? We don't leave for like, ten more hours and I am packed and ready. I was feeling a little anxious about the knitting I was taking. Or actually, about the knitting I wasn't taking. I have my Greenjeans sweater, sock yarn and needles in my suitcase and my mom's sweater in my carry-on. And extra yarn for that sweater in my suitcase. But really? That didn't feel like enough. I tried to resist it. I did. But then I got about halfway through Free Range Knitter and realized that I had WAAAAAY underpacked and needed That Scarf in my carry-on and yarn for That Scarf the Third in my suitcase.

I know that I will not finish all of that in the time I am gone. Not even if my plane gets stuck in a snowdrift. And I know that there are, in fact, knitting stores in and around Raleigh. (I, um, sort of Googled it just in case we might be near one). But now that I have "enough" knitting for the trip and any contingencies (like, even if I go temporarily blind That Scarf the Second and Third would still work) I feel a little more at ease.

The kitties are, however, not at ease. The older ones know what the sudden apparition of black suitcases mean (besides more stuff to sit/shed on). The little one has noticed a shift in the focus of the other cats. They are now very clingy and seem intent on holding us down.

I was so worried that Sheldon would have to be renamed That Bad Bad Kitteh because all he wanted to do is keep me awake and bite and fight. But apparently all hope is not lost because Sheldon is becoming domesticated. Crazy little fucker. Sally set things in motion by buying the cats a feather on a pole in an effort to redirect Sheldon's need to attack away from my poor hands and feet and also to tire him out. Once the older cats saw that he was interested in the same thing they were interested in and that he behaved the same way they did I think they figured out that he was actually a cat.

Today I watched for hours (yes, I know how pathetic that sounds) while Sheldon and Sammie chased each other around. Then Sammie hid in the kitty tent and Sheldon kept trying to break in and get her. Serena sulked around and hissed if Sheldon got too close, but we can't expect miracles overnight.

Right now, Bean is asleep next to me with Serena sleeping on a pillow next to her and Sheldon curled around her arm.

'Night y'all.