Your table, sir
This goofy cat. Every morning he comes in and talks to me, nudges me. He is relentless. I pet him, give him some lovin' 'til he nearly drives me nuts.
"Do you want to go out? Do you need some food?" He follows me as I walk, then trots ahead, leading me to his food bowl, which is usually already full. Oh.
"Table for one? Please, allow me to escort you, sir."
* * * * * *
Since being recently enchanted by Mr. Clean and his Magic Eraser, Madeleine has been on a bit of a cleaning jag. I came home to a wonderfully clean house on Friday. It's almost a little scary, as Ali's neatnik was showing a lot last week, too. Have they become possessed? Is there something in the water? I didn't want to delve to deep, you know? With great appreciation, I had a very relaxing weekend watching football on TV with knitting on my lap. I believe I'm approaching the fourth of six each-side increases on the sleeves of Oblique, which I am knitting at the same time. If that's not another one of those black holes of knitting, I don't know what is.
On Saturday, I was all "GO GIANTS," but that's over, man. My stint as a Giants fan ended when the last whistle blew in Dallas yesterday. Woohoo! The Giants will march into Green Bay on Sunday to play the Packers on the Frozen Tundra... and believe me, it will be f-f-f-f-frozen! If a Cheesehead who lived down the street from Lambeau Field were to have a friendly wager with a New Jersey girl who lived next door to Giants Stadium regarding which team would advance to the Super Bowl, I wonder what they'd bet!?