With only good intentions in mind (namely, attempting to keep to my pledge to finish UFO’s), I set up my sewing machine Saturday night. Instead of working on my purse lining, I made this cute little bandana from a bit of fabric remnants I couldn’t resist nabbing at my JoAnn Etc. store.
It’s for my recouperating honey-dog, Hoover. He was adopted by my mom before our move out West and was recently hit by a car. Two weeks ago, his life hang in the balance, or so we thought. His only injury was a broken leg, a clean break above the joint requiring orthopedic surgery, a metal plate, and pins. Now, you would assume that he’d be feeling a little down, right? Not Hoover. My mom says that he is as happy and wild as ever, completely ignoring doctor’s orders to not jump on the bed for his afternoon naps. He is an avid bandana-wearer. If you should take off his bandana, he assumes it’s bathtime and will jump into the tub waiting anxiously for water. So, this is my gift to him, the goober.
My poor butterfly bookmark, shown a few posts ago, was doused with milk today so I pulled out my new blocking board and blocked awayt (after a good wash, of course). Being that I blocked it in my never-used-on-weekends kitchen ( I don’t know why, but we don’t cook on weekends. I think Andy’s afraid I’ll make him do the dishes.), I kept the board in the kitchen. Later, seeing it sitting like this, made me realize that blocking has got to be an instrument of torture to thread items. I mean, doesn’t it look like this poor butterfly has been pierced multiple times and placed out for public viewing??
Not to be left out, here’s a picture of Buffy lounging on the couch tonight. In the corner of the photo you can see her afghan, which she never uses. She has a thing for bright colors apparently because she naps on the girls’ afghans more than her own. Her half-open eyed glance at me says, “Woman, if you haven’t put food in my bowl, don’t bother me. Stinkin’ hooplehead.”