Let the child be born

I finished the jacket/cardiagn, so the child may now be born. She's due late this month, and might ever arrive on my birthday.

This might be the first time I've ever knitted something for a baby that has been finished before the baby arrived. My record might be a crocheted rug for baby Jonathan, that ended up being for his baby brother two years later. But this little jacket was fun to knit, and quite quick. I've knitted it before so didn't have too much trouble with the pattern.

There were days when I did nothing much BUT knit, which are good days indeed.

Although I'm always ready for a visit to the button shop, I thought I'd check my own button jar and that of my mother. There were five little pearl buttons in my mother's stash, and they look just perfect. There is a little wool left over which might become bootees. I made an attempt on those at SSK on Saturday, but somewhere went wrong and had to rip up. Sigh!

So I hope the mother-to-be likes what I've done, but she has to wait until the birth before the presentation occurs. Charlotte/Rosie will be warm this winter or next, depending on size.

Now, where is that sock wool? I've got plans to knit ARROW socks - that's the name of the pattern and that's who I work for! (Sorry, the link is to the worksite, not the pattern) A marriage made in heaven...

Next time I'll tell you all about what deflected me from knitting them yesterday. Not a pretty story, and more to do with entertainment tech.

The Pug's Pearly Whites

Poor old Jonty had to have some dental work this week. I've been avoiding it, because he has to be anaesthetised and that always makes me anxious. But the state of the Pug Breath meant action had to be taken. I made the appointment for Monday, and delivered him, all unsuspecting, into the hands of the vet. It needed to be done. He had eight extractions, and a general clean up. The vet said when I picked him up that he might not want to eat that night, and not to worry. A pug not eat? I took him home, and had already prepared a little bowl of chicken tenderloin. He ate one tenderloin rapid quick. Then another. And another. Yet another. I cooked the rest for my own dinner, and he had some of it cooked afterwards. A pug not eating is a dead pug.

The teeth remaining (yes, there are plenty left - one website gives the number as 42) are gleaming. Well worth doing, we hope he will be chomping away for years to come. More bones, toothbrushing, all these are on the agenda and more.