Down Time (or How To Hook With A Cat)

There are times when we all could use a little help.  That being said, there are also times when perhaps a little less aid is called for.  I found myself in the latter position on my last day off.  Anyone who knows me, knows that I tend to be a little obsessive about scheduling my days off.  I try to allot my down time in such a way to accomplish as much as possible while still giving myself a bit of much needed relaxation.

Picture a quiet Friday morning, basic housekeeping chores finished, a lovely hot chocolate standing by while I make myself comfortable at my cheticamp frame with an elementary design stretched and ready for my undivided attention.  Of course, a large selection of yarns and fabric are gathered, laying across my burlap as I begin, hook in hand…

Thump! Somehow, my cheticamp is now serving a dual purpose as a comfy cat hammock as one of my supervisory felines decides to position herself across my work space, intent on helping me with what is obviously a task unsuited to an unsupervised human.  This particular cat is incredibly dedicated and goes completely limp at any attempt to remove her from her perch.  Perhaps I should add that a cat that does not wish to be moved automatically triples in body weight, much the same way a cat or dog laying across your legs at night turns into a mass best compared to  a large piece of cement.  A short but fruitless battle of wills ensues with the cat claiming victory as I give up and try to continue my day off ‘me time’ activity, resigned to living with the cattish attention(read: intervention) to detail.  Every piece of fabric and yarn demands scrutiny, sometimes resulting with a fuzzy paw interrupting my hooking flow as a particularly fascinating end proves irresistible.

Jump ahead an hour; my hand is now aching-not from hooking, but from trying to lift the mass of cat from on top of it.  Apparently, wherever my hand is, just so happens to be the ‘perfect’ napping spot and my sweet kitten has the girth of a well fed mountain lion (her alter ego).  Somehow, she senses when I have had enough and leisurely saunters across the burlap and leaps to a nearby chair.  The sag in the burlap lends silent testimony to the war that has been waged.  I stand, tired. but triumphant as I look at the small amount of coverage I have achieved and the tangled mass of fabric that needs to be sorted after suffering intense feline attention. The cat stares serenely from her perch on the chair.  I stare back,  already looking forward to tomorrow night’s challenges…


PHOTO: ‘Squeak The Terrible’ at one with the creative process