I won’t sugarcoat this: I have some sad news.
Squeaker has passed away, to the great guinea pig cage in the sky.
She was a noble rodent, always glad for a carrot, happy to eat whatever quantity of hay you put out for her. No matter how much hay, Squeaker would take care of it for ya. I mean: she was the Michael Phelps of hay eaters.
She was five and a half years old, pudgy and low riding in that way that guinea pigs are. My diagnosis is that she suffered from chew fatigue. She was done ruminating.
Life is bittersweet, you know? I was so used to stepping around her cage to answer the phone that now that she’s gone, I still make a cage-avoiding maneuver when I answer the phone. Some habits die hard.
But not cleaning out that cage, I’ll tell you what. It was like CHRISTMAS to be done with that little hobby.
Of course, In one of the great cosmic jokes, my son came home from a birthday party with a party favor.
I am tormented with the arrival of these potential Sea Monkeys. Do I activate them? We have raised two previous batches of Sea Monkeys, which had to be the most abstract pet-owning in the world. It’s all maintenance, no love. Remember: I’m coming off five and a half years of cage duty. So help me out:
They look so cute in their little foil packet.
I’m so sorry to have been such a poor partner in our Synchronized Cable Sweater team. The minute I point my toes, I forget to keep my arms straight. Please don’t send me to re-education camp!
I am on the verge of finishing the body, however. I have divided for front and back, so I should be on to the sleeves shortly.
To review: I’m using Rowan DK Tweed (circa the late ’90s, I’m guessing). I’m using our Perfect Sweater pattern, adapted by using a random cable pattern from our new book.
I hit a Spaghetti Junction moment last night, where a bunch of the cables met and had a rumble. Still wondering what the sleeves are going to be like. It’s going to be a speed-walk to the finish.