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Posts Tagged ‘deer’

Sunday evening at 7 pm. The setting sun filtered through the leaves of the trees creating warm, golden circles on the grass. I settled outside in my chair with my sock knitting in hand, classical music gently floating from my earbuds. Bees were busy in the clover. Birds were in the serenity garden using the bird baths, droplets of water flying into the air catching and reflecting the waning sun. A slow deep breath. A perfect moment sans all stress.

Suddenly we heard crashing through woods and hoof beats up the drive, wild panting. Out of the trees and undergrowth came a deer running full-out with a thoroughly exhausted hound dog chasing her. The Skipper called to the dog, who gave up the chase (hounds usually follow their quarry until they or the quarry fall with exhaustion). She had a collar and tags and was badly overheated. She also had been through streams, mud, brambles and whatnot and carried the debris all over her fur.

Yarn Rascal was abruptly moved inside the house. I got water for our guest. The first bit of business was to cool her down. The Skipper read her tags. Her name was Annie. He called the telephone number on the tag. The owner was on the smaller of the two rivers we live near, kayaking. It was going to take him about 20 minutes to get back to his car and get the gear packed, etc.

Annie was the perfect guest. After two bowls of water, she had cooled enough for us to hose her down and clean her up a bit. After her “bath” we toweled her off and her body temperature was almost back to normal. She was docile, even tempered, and well mannered, so much like my Dakota. It was clear, Annie wanted to be reunited with her owner. Since the road we are on is so hard to find, The Skipper decided to put Annie in the truck and sit at the bottom of our road so he could flag down her owner. About 30 minutes later Annie was reunited with her owner.

Annie’s demeanor and good manners reminded me of my big, beautiful baby girl, Dakota, a Lab. For many years its was the four of us: Dakota, Sport (my bichon baby boy), The Skipper and me. When Annie left, it opened a small tear in the place where I still so miss my baby girl and baby boy. Allowing my tears to fall I reminded myself to be grateful for the time I had with them and to be so grateful for the little one I have now. Yarn Rascal is my rescue baby. Not a doubt in my mind that he rescued me.

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There is no way of saying it other than just saying it: The Yarn Rascal had a Gold Paw weekend. Yes, the Cape Ann Afghan is done, thanks to The Skipper who kept the Yarn Rascal in another room while I completed it. No, it is not blocked. I fear it may never be blocked, but that may be just my hysteria rising. I looked in the garage, where I planned to block the afghan in safety. Truly, it’s the only place in the house that is Yarn Rascal proof. He has no way of gaining access to it. As I said, I looked in the garage ready to move the saw horses into position and realized there’s a ton of heavy stuff all over the space.

Every heavy object The Skipper owns is in the garage but the car, and the car definitely wouldn’t fit even if for some apocalyptic, super-storm reason we needed to get the car in there the task of making space is so monumental that the apocalyptic, super-storm would hit long before we could make a dent in the “stuff”. I can’t move any of it by myself. The standing band saw weighs upwards of a 1000 pounds and would need to be moved with the tractor which is also in the garage. The industrial band saw isn’t the only heavy piece of wood working equipment calling the garage home. In short, there is no way to eek out a space of 60 x 60 inches (152 x 152 cm) without engaging tractor and straps and strategic planning on the level of a major construction job.

So I thought I’d try Plan B. I knew it was risky. I knew in the pit of my stomach that it might just send Yarn Rascal over the edge. Block the afghan in the living room in the space I have already set up for blocking, but which hasn’t been used since Yarn Rascal arrived. Not wanting to wantonly subject the afghan to the wild and unknown, I thought I would do a trial run with a shawl I made during Super Storm Sandy. I’ve written up the directions and plan to offer it as a free pattern this Autumn.

The one thing the Yarn Rascal hates is water. He can’t stand it when his feet get even minimally wet. A full bath is traumatic for him. I reasoned (lied to myself) that once the shawl was wet and laying out to dry that it would be safe. To ensure its safety, I employed the equivalent of a medieval moat around a castle: I wet a few towels and placed them that if when he got up on the table where the shawl was blocking he would have to step on the wet towels before he could get to the prize.

I’ll omit the lurid details. Let me just say at dinner time on Sunday evening the Yarn Rascal reached the pinnacle of his version of Mt. Everest. Dinner went up in flames (literally), the shawl recaptured. To my amazement, it weathered the onslaught quite well.

In the meanwhile, we have a brand new older buck in the area. The Skipper took these pictures. The buck’s antlers are still in the velvet. His coat has already turned to the gray brown Autumn coloring.

deer cu

deer ls

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A saturated meadow,
Sun-shaped and jewel-small,
A circle scarcely wider
Than the trees around were tall;
Where winds were quite excluded,
And the air was stifling sweet
With the breath of many flowers,—
A temple of the heat.

Robert Frost Rose Pogonia

Yes, the sun is shining once again. The purple finches are hatching their second round of babies as are the two blue bird families. The second round of house wren babies have already fledged and their beautifully wound-up songs have, for the most part, receded from the summer sounds.

A new baby fawn graces the deer herd in the area. After watching the fawn and doe for an hour, I am pretty certain it is a male. Rambunctious and daring, the fawn reminded me of Randi, my little yarn rascal.

I promised the second part of the Cape Ann Afghan and here it is. I rewrote the first part, cleaning up the wording and editing for uniformity.

Hope everyone has a lovely weekend.

Cape Ann Afghan Part II

Joining Hexagons As You Go for Second and Following Rows
Join D in first corner ch1 space. Ch 2 (counts as first dc). In same space, work 2 dc. Insert hook into corner ch 1 space of completed hexagon. Join. Still working in the same ch 1 space of unfinished hexagon, work 3 dc.

*Insert hook into next ch 1 space of completed hexagon. Join. In next ch 1 space of incomplete hexagon, work 3 dc. Insert hook into next ch 1 space of completed hexagon. Join. In ch1 corner space of incomplete hexagon, work 3 dc. You are now at the point where two completed hexagons already join. The incomplete hexagon is joined to the two completed ones with sl sts as follows: Insert hook into corner ch 1 space of hexagon on the right. Join. Insert hook in corner ch 1 space of hexagon on the left. Join. Still working in same corner ch 1 space of incomplete hexagon, work 3 dc.* Repeat from * to * once more.

Insert hook into next ch 1 space of completed hexagon. Join. In next ch 1 space of incomplete hexagon, work 3 dc. Insert hook into next ch 1 space of completed hexagon. Join. In ch1 corner space of incomplete hexagon, work 3 dc. Insert hook into corner ch 1 space of completed hexagon. Join. Still working in same corner ch 1 space of incomplete hexagon, work 3 dc.

Working only on incomplete hexagon, ch 1. Work 3 dc in next ch 1 space. Ch 1. In next corner space, work 3 dc, ch 1, 3 dc. Ch 1. Work 3 dc in next ch 1 space. Ch 1. Join with sl st to first dc. Finish off. Cut yarn.

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