Wednesday, September 26, 2007

This is what happens to hand knits around here. At least, if they are fluffy or made of Muppet.




I keep coming into rooms and finding soggy heaps of scarf, hat, blanket, whatever. Kitten spit everywhere.

Also, best song ever. My Boyfriend's Girlfriend Isn't Me

Yay!

10 comments:

Mouse said...

Silly kittnz - swetrz no givz melk!

poor darlin' thinks that muppet is his mama! (and the words "kitten spit" sent me into fits of giggles.. thanks)

Roxie said...

No knitting is perfect without cat spit, but please, babies, moderation in everything! (We have a shaggy fleece blanket that is surrogate mommy. My knitting gets folded away and hidden now.)

Ina said...

Cats: LOL :: Song: Snork. Thanks for both.

Lucia said...

Mom? Is that you?

So cute! In a salivary sort of way.

LizKnits said...

love that song too... very cute.

KnitNana said...

Mommie! I missed you SOOOOO!
muhhmmmmmm....

yucky kitten spit
(((hugs)))

geogrrl said...

The bordello roving in the previous post is awesome--and I love lavender too! I keep lavender soap (just the Yardley) in with all my wools and silks to help keep the bugs away. I change the bars about once a year. Bonus is the stash smells wonderful.

The little film made me laugh--we have one here who hasn't been a kitten for years and still does that. But he likes to sit on your lap for the chewing and kneading.

Jess said...

Wow, those put my monitor at serious risk of being sprayed with coffee. Thanks!

Una isn't a chewer, thank god, but she really likes to "snuggle" with new knitting. I think she just prefers her colors a little more shaded, and is trying to help by adding some grey. :)

Miss Emily said...

I have 3 cats and only 1 is interested in yarn. She loves to pull hanks and balls out of the basket or tackle the working yarn as I am knitting.

As for the song, I love it. I know who would love that song...

Thanks for posting...

Eikon said...

My dog Eli attempts to eat wool once in a while. It's like living next to a volcano you never know when he'll strike; minus the superheated molten rock of course. : )