I was trying to take a picture of the gloves but my fetching photo shoot was gatecrashed! This is Albert (AKA Alby or Boo.) I've mostly avoided 'real life' stuff in this blog , but I thought I might share a bit about Alby. (I apologise to those people not keen on cats. You can feel free to tune out now or skip to the end! I understand.)
For a year or so Mr BP and I took in homeless kittens and willingly let them destroy our house and all of my stockings (seriously, you may be small and they may be large, but my legs are not trees, kittens! We don't climb legs!) We would basically have them anywhere from the time they were born (in the case of Buzz, she was a hairly slug with an umbilical cord when we got her) to a couple of weeks old, until they weighed 1kg. Then we would return them, they would be desexed, and (i like to think) go to loving families and cared for them as much as we did. This process generally worked well. Until it came to Albert.
We already had two cats (OK, so maybe the giving back part didn't happen so easily all the time) when we got Alby and his two brothers. They had been dumped in a sack at the door of the shelter, caked in a healthy layer of brown sludge. We had them for 3 months and they were hilarious! The middle brother loved cornflakes. When MrBP would have his cornflakes in the morning we would have to lock him in another room. One time he managed to get though the door and came tearing straight into the dining room, took a leap onto the table and then leapt smack-bang into the bowl of cornflakes. It still makes me laugh thinking about it! Alby was sick as a kitten, so we spent lots of time with the Vet and doing different things for him. Having no mother around he thought MrBP was his mum and would follow him all over the place (kittens don't understand 'bathroom time'. Or any other adult time for that matter). There wasn't a lap (kneecap rather) he didn't occupy within 3 second of it becoming available. He was, and is, the most ridiculously affectionate being I know.
Needless to say when it came time to return him I was devastated. A wreck. Couldn't work. Wouldn't eat. Didn't sleep. I was ridiculously and illogically upset. I kept calling the shelter to see if he was OK. Eventually they told me to just come and get him. I suspect they gave him to me because it was cheaper than taking out a restraining order.
He's been my ("our", sorry Mr BP) boy ever since.
Gosh, sorry for all the soppy stories! It musy be happy-ending week or something! I'll try and stick to craft now people.
Pattern: Fetching by Yarn: This was a destasher! Less than 1 ball of Filatura di Crosa Zara in a #1666 Fuchsia (the colour of the devil? Ha!) I got this on sale at the Woolshack a while ago.
Needles: 3.75mm bamboo DPNs. I didn't have 4mm. Oooooh, breakin' the rules!
This is significant because: I know fetchings are all over blogland (i'm a bit behind the times...) but this is my first, yes, FIRST, project on double points. I was a double point virgin. They scared the bejeezes out of me. It wasn't so bad though. I only poked myself in the face once. No permanent damage. Pretty good really.
I've been supervising a student on placement at work and these are being gifted to her. She's on her way to Europe for (our) Summer holidays, so i'm hoping they'll be handy! Ha! Get it! Handy...
Um, and thanks everyone that left a comment about Clap v2.o. I was shocked, SHOCKED, at the response. You made me feel all warm and fuzzy :)