My Fairy Will be Getting Her Wings

. . . just not this year.

You see, when I picked up this blog posting idea to keep everyone up to date on the beauty of my Mirabilia fairy's wings, I thought this would be the perfect time to finish her.  While stitching with metallic thread is the bane of any stitcher's life, once I got the hang of stitching the outlines from dark to light, then mindlessly stitching the inside with white and metallic, why not set this as a goal for the year?  Why not end the year with a completed large piece of cross stitch?

Ah, the joy of finally having her finished and stitched, every single little stitch.  Every one.  I have weekends more or less free, and I have a magnifier I use when I stitch her with my contacts in.  Why not decide that now, finally, I can finish her and not hoard her as only a stitcher can?

Well, the answer is somewhat simple.  First there was the section of wing where I had to thread the needle 2-3 times each row.  Seriously.  And it was not the metallic that was giving the trouble - it was the white cotton thread.  Which is understandable if you think about how white is bleached and then bleached some more, it is perhaps a little less durable and a bit more persnickety.

So that's one excuse.  That was along about September, when these pictures were taken:

These are the outlines of the wings taken around the 4th of July.

This is the part that requires counting and caffeine; the filling-in part, 

not so much.

 

This is that same section filled in right after Labor Day weekend.  

I also extended the LH section up a little bit.

This wing is coming along nicely.

So yes, given all this progress from July to September, the future looked promising.  The fairly looked like she would become complete in a few months of dedicated work, Christmas knitting notwithstanding.

Then I took our lovely new cat, Penelope Lane to the vet for her annual shots.  A bit delayed, I admit, but underemployment will wreck havoc on one's income.  Here she is looking all regal and beautiful:

Penelope Lane surveys her kingdom

Wouldn't you know . . . I happened to mention to our vet as I had to a small circle of friends that we were ready to think about getting a kitten, one to replace our old cat, Cerridwen.  She had passed in July, and I'm very grateful we had another cat to help make our home not quite so empty of cat-ness.

And what did our very kind vet do when I mentioned this new openness in our hearts?

Why, she happened to mention a tiny kitten that they were fostering there, that's what she did! 

And she went even further by bringing said tiny, little, all-black kitten into the examining room and laying him in my hand.  Yes, he was that small.  He was found wandering along a busy street and some kind soul stopped his car (it was a guy), noticed that his leg seemed to be broken, and brought him into our vet because he worked in the area.  This tiny little kitten still had these great big stitches in his teeny tiny leg from the leg pin surgery.

He was so tiny!!!  And he just looked about him like he wasn't sure what the world was all about, and could someone help him, please??

I didn't adopt him there on the spot.  I did turn into a pile of mush there in front of the vet and her technician, and I asked if our names could be added to the list.  Our timing was such that our names were at the top.

So Webmaster Bill and I talked some more, talked to a few trusted friends, thought about some kittens who were comfortably ensconced in a barn and in no danger of busy streets, saw a couple more foster kittens, and then decided that this little stray black kitten was the one for us. 

The vet and her technician agreed.

Of course they would!

And so in mid-October we brought home our new little Peppercorn.  We thought of several names, including Odysseus (husband of Penelope), Othello (too tragic), and Orpheus, the musician who descended into the underworld to retrieve his beloved (also tragic, and hard to say his name).

It's been a while since we've had a kitten.  A long while.  Which says something about our cat-owning tendencies and also about our age.  Playful photos are below:

Lots and lots of kitten energy.  Lots.  And he loves to lie in my lap and chase after bright shiny things. So can you imagine the havoc he would wreck on the bright shiny dangly threads that create a fairy's wings??  Sure, I knew you could.  And so, I'm sure, could the vet.

All this to say, like the popular Irish folk song "Why Paddy Won't be at Work Today (it's the one about the fellow who goes to the job site, loads up the bucket to bring himself to the top, then unloads the bucket and he goes plummeting to the ground; MythBusters did a segment on it years ago), the subtitle of this posting might just very well be:  "Why Fairy Won't get her Wings this Year."  The bell signalling her wings is most certainly waiting till next year, till kitty time becomes cat time and no little black kitten will be tempted to play with bright, shiny threads.

Except there is nothing like a teeny little kitten to provide endless hours of fun and amusement for all concerned, and I'm enjoying every moment I have with a teeny tiny little black kitten:

Oh, such cute kitties

It seems in Blogosphere we all share pictures of our feline and canine friends, and these were just too cute to keep on my loyal iMac. I took these pictures the other day during a sunny day this winter (it's been raining - note that I'm not complaining about the rain!) and I had a box of baby booties and baby bibs &c. that I wanted to add to my website. The cats just had to come out and enjoy the sunlight and most of you have heard me talk about them so I decided to take these great pictures of them and post them here. The feline kids of Webmaster Bill and me:

This is our foundling kitty, Cerridwen. Those of you who know and share my interest in Celtic mythology will know that Cerridwen (many spellings, some with extra "y's" in them due to her Welsh origins) was a keeper of her Cauldron that could bring the dead back to life. So we helped a rescued little black cat find a good and loving home, and what else would be a logical name for her, I ask you?? Yes, she was about 3-4 weeks old when the construction boss brought her in a box with her siblings to a work site in the hot May sunshine and said (put your best redneck accent on here): "I got me a box of kittens, and if any of you [folks] want 'em, you kin take 'em home at the end of the day. They done been underfoot and I need to git rid of 'em." So the kind-hearted English construction worker moved the box out of the direct sunlight all day and took the box home where he and his girlfriend nursed the kittens for a week or so. She was more or less weaned when I called the girlfriend and we decided that ours would be a great home for her, but she drank Similac for a few weeks afterwards, "just in case." She's a sweet little girl who loves to make a warm spot on the bed and will meow at me in case I wake up in the middle of the night and need to pet a cat to go back to sleep. She also sings in the hallway when she is looking for us - we call her "The Singing Kitty" and meow back at her. Somehow that reassures her that we're right there (even though she can smell us 2 rooms away) and she comes trotting right over to be petted.

This is the other cat, that our friend Sue-who-knows-everybody told us about that same week we were adopting Cerridwen, and she is now our large round grey cat:

What can I say? She's large, she's round, and she's grey. She's also taken to crossing her white feet, one on top of the other, just because she can and because she's a cat. She is also the one who sleeps under the blanket on our bed during the day, and often on my head on cold (Atlanta) winter nights while she purrs me to sleep. Granted, she takes up half the pillow, but she rests her chin on whatever portion of my face she can find and purrs me and herself to sleep. One night my ear was against her body and I could hear her heart beating after she stopped purring - it was very special. We named her "Boudicca" (also many different Welsh spellings) who was a Welsh queen who was the only commander in Britannia able to win some battles with the Roman invaders/conquerors/troops. She really did - she united many of the famous Celtic fighters in the western part of the island (modern-day Wales and western England) and beat the Romans. Until the final battle when she was captured and killed. This kitty's mother was named Athena, so I figured this was a good and strong name for our large cat. I think she's not as large as she used to be, though watching her run (proceed at a fast trot, really) is rather amusing as her gait more resembles a waddle than a run. But she has a good, strong, steady walk and I can always tell when she enters a room where I am. She also sits politely below my chair and waits to be encouraged to jump onto my lap where she just stares at me until she falls asleep. She does have one discouraging habit of biting my eyelids (dangerous) or the tip of my nose (ouch!) while she's falling asleep. She doesn't realize how sharp her teeth are, and after 12 years of discouraging this habit she's more or less figured it out. She was about 12 weeks or so when we adopted her, and her human mother said that after I came out to the house to meet the feline family, mother Athena began nursing her again, so it may be a vestige of that nursing behavior.

So those are our kitties - both 12, both furry, both purr, both eat the same food, and while they don't always get along, they are wonderful warm feline friends, for as long as we have them.