I don’t know why it is true but it is: Each time The Skipper steps out of the house things go south in a big way. Yesterday afternoon The Skipper was out and I thought I’d sit down to some quiet knitting on the SIL shawl. What with 20 rows left I was feeling pretty good about my knitting progress and I was careful not to say that aloud for fear the knitting gods would hear. I only thought it. Still I paid the price.
I had found a cozy position in the chair with the 500 plus stitch shawl in my lap. The television was on my regular news channel which I now watch with the sound off. It is so much better if you can’t hear what they are saying. Yarn Rascal was upstairs breaching the yarn vault, banging on the doors to pop them open to gain entrance. All was well.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed movement out the picture window down by the pond. My knitting was in the middle of a lacey motif that I had to finish or else lose my place. But I just couldn’t keep my eyes from the pond where Hank had landed and was now stalking fish and frogs. A yelp of glee floated down the stairs letting me know Yarn Rascal had gained access to the yarn vault and just in that quick moment I lost count and my place in the lace motif.
Taking a deep breath, I put aside the knitting, got up and opened the sliding door to extend my hand and shake the handful of keys to move Hank out of the pond. Of course anytime a door to the outside opens Yarn Rascal is immediately there to add to the confusion. I shook the keys with one hand and kept Yarn Rascal inside by blocking all his attempts of escape with my leg.
When it was clear Hank was not going to move from the pond I opened the sliding door a little wider to step out. As I stepped out in rushed a chipmunk. He went between my feet and under Yarn Rascal racing for the living room. For Yarn Rascal, the next best thing to a cake of Shetland yarn is to have some live animal, other than himself, running around the house. In short, he was delighted beyond all reason that we now had a chipmunk in the house, while I was wishing The Skipper had never left.
Naturally, as all chipmunks probably do, the little creature headed straight for the knitting. It’s a big shawl. Lots of little places to hide in when placed in a heap. With the chipmunk under the shawl and Yarn Rascal on top of it digging, I could see disaster. I captured Yarn Rascal, detangled him and his nails from the shawl and fought the squiggling monster into another room and closed the door. While he yelped, barked, howled and hurled himself repeatedly at the door I took a moment to catch my breath. Next I decided to go back into the living room, grab up the shawl with the chipmunk in it and trying not to get bit, take it outside where I would unravel chipmunk and shawl.
I did just that. Got the shawl outside and viola! no chipmunk. The chipmunk was still somewhere in the house. How does one get a chipmunk out of the house? Darn if the fairy tale Hansel and Gretel didn’t pop into my head. A food trail might entice him back out the door. Thankfully The Skipper loves nuts. All kinds of nuts, so we keep a lot on hand. Walnuts, almonds, cashews, you name it we have it. I made a big, wide trail of most of the nuts we had. It went from the living room out the sliding glass door.
It took awhile, but along came the chipmunk and followed the nut trail. Of course The Skipper was now without any nuts. But as I told him it was the choice of having nuts and a chipmunk in the house or having no nuts and no chipmunk.
The shawl came out of the ordeal pretty well. A few snags that I can ease back into place and a loss of 10 rows, but no major damage. Yarn Rascal is no worse for the wear. He just loves a good adventure. As for The Skipper, he says he’s not going anywhere for a long while. That’s okay by me.