Scarf, Slug, and Lizard-a-Bed
So, I started a pair of socks in KP's Sock Memories yarn, the Yukon colorway:
And then I started thinking...how would this pattern stitch look in other yarns, with different numbers of worked-even stitches? So, I started playing around, using Karabella's Aurora 8 100% merino yarn I bought on sale sometime last year, working 6 sts on either side of the decrease:
Eh. Boring. So I decreased from 6 to 2 sts, with a 3 row garter st bottom edge, and K2 on either side edge, working repeats of *K1, M1, K3, S2, K1, PSSO, K2, K1, M1*:
Much nicer. Except that the width of the K2s on the left side of the PSSO look narrower than the K2 on the right side of the PSSO. Weird. But interesting. And sooooooooft.
While working away in the late evening, I twice encountered Sluggette in the den near my desk when I got up to go to bed. Here she is last Wednesday:
And the following night, when she was close enough to where I needed to step to turn on the lamp next to my desk so I could have enough light to make my way into the hallway to turn on the hall light so I could make sure not to step on her (part of my nightly go-to-bed routine) as she made her way through the hallway to the den that I nearly stepped on her, causing her to contract a bit.
Mike, in the mean time, has been having a rough time of it, between shedding, breeding season, and trying not to mate with or otherwise chomp me. Twice, now, in the last week I have found him in my bed in the middle of the afternoon. This is totally unlike him, unlike several of my green iguanas who considered me to be sleeping in their bed, rather than vice versa.
Mike seems to think that he will be inconspicuous in my bed, big as it is and dark as my bedding and room are (thank you, black-out drapes!).
And, speaking of Sluggette, Sluggo has been toddling around now that the heatwave has broken, and has been snacking on his favorite foods:
Hope y'all have a good Fourth of July!
Sometimes, to make a point known only to himself, Mike will insert himself where he knows it will be difficult for me to find him or extricate him. But when he feels his point sufficiently made (like, when I do indeed find him, and make it clear I have by talking to him and reaching in/under/behind whatever it is he is in/under/behind), he shows himself just enough to let me know where exactly he is and, in Mikeyspeak, ask me to get him the hell outta there and put him to bed in his own room.
Around 7 PM this evening, he decided to go sulk under the bed, possibly because I was writing about his forays this past week into my bed. When I checked under the bed to see if he was there, he was - completely. Three hours later, here is where he is:
Now I have to decide how snarky I'm going to be: let him spend the night there (it's warm enough that he will be fine if he does so)? Or shall I don the kevlar gloves and gauntlets and pull him out of there...?
By the time I went back into the bedroom to pick up Mike and put him back to bed, he had disappeared under the bed again, so, apparently it was his turn to be snarky.
When I finally paused Battlestar Galactica at 0030 hrs to go to bed, I went about my nightly ablutions and jumped into bed - and immediately jumped out again, having felt something distinctly wet and/or cold on my posterior.
I flipped back the duvet to look for a 'gift' but instead found a very different kind of gift: Sluggo! He decided to sleep under the body pillow that lives down the center of my bed, and had his head and neck stuck out just enough for me to feel his smooth, cool skin.
Since I've been doing more tossing and turning lately as the Bartonella is once again replicating like crazy, is boosting my pain levels on an almost hourly basis, I didn't want to squash a lizard or get chomped by a lizard avoiding being squashed, so I scooped Sluggo up and put him in his own bed.
At 0215 hrs, I heared odd noises emanating from under the bed. Well, not odd if you know what the scrape of dorsal spikes and sandpaper skin against a metal bedframe sounds like. It was, of course, Mikey changing his mind once again, and trying to figure out which way to come out from under the bed so The Mommy can pick him up and put him into his own bed. He finally figured out that poking his head out between the bed and nightstand was not conducive to manual removal. Finally, about 10 minutes later, he crept out from the middle of the side of the bed, with enough of his body exposed so that I could pick him up without using the Kevlar.
He is damned lucky he's so cute.