July 19, 2015


About a month ago, Lurleen died. As a result, I haven't felt like blogging.
I don't know how much I've mentioned her before, but she's always been an inspiration.

That's not to say I haven't been knitting, I have, but it's been to cope and pass time. I've hidden myself away in blanket squares (53 down, 43 to go). I did finish an Alan Dart pattern, which I call my Grief Cat. Following her death, that was the pattern I decided get lost in. It ate up more focus than the blanket squares, which means more stitch counting and less sobbing, but it was also enough of a pause from my own patterns. I wasn't quite ready for business as usual until recently.

I haven't really shared the news online if only to also avoid any "Rest in Peace" comments and things of that nature while the reality sank in. Not because I don't appreciate the sentiment behind them, but because they never make much sense to me. She's not really resting or doing anything. Her body has been reduced to ashes and they're in a pretty little overpriced urn on my bookshelf. That's the reality of it, peace or not. Maybe the peace is what I'm supposed to be left with? I don't know. Pragmatism and mourning don't always work well together. 

Lately, her absence has been as big as her presence. I'm just getting to the point where I don't anticipate her yelling for her breakfast each morning and when I don't expect to feel her head-butt my leg, letting me know I'm paying too much attention to the computer screen and not enough to her.

For those of you who don't know who she is--or rather, was--Lurleen was obviously my cat. I was more inclined to call her my little sis, because that's how my mom always referred to us--as one another's "sis". She made it to seventeen, which is the oldest of any pet I've had in the past. 

Since I moved out on my own--and even for much of when we both lived at my parents' house--she was my constant companion. When I'd return home from work or anywhere, there she was. When I moved from my first apartment, to the cottage, to Puffit's house, which was modified so the both of us had ample space, Lurleen was with me. I saved her life and she gave me a reason to hold on to mine, even when I felt at my loneliest. At times when I really couldn't find reasons why I mattered and whether my existence made much of a difference, I still had to stick around. Who else would take care of Lurleen?

She was anxious, assertive, overweight, melodramatic, and was also very talkative, playful and affectionate with the few she humans she trusted. We were a lot alike. For as long as she and I shared a home and the sweet, sweet solitude on which we thrived, she lived a healthy, mellow and rather spoiled life. She seemed comfortable and content right up until the last hour. I had to make a decision that I was prepared to make. I thought I was also prepared for everything that would come after: life without her. That part is still a learning process. Turns out, I wasn't so prepared for that--the part were mourning gets replaced by memories, little by little. 

That said, it is time to get back to work. I'll have a pattern for you with the next update. Here are the techniques you'll need if you want to try it out:

Cast on 
Knit Front and Back
Knit Two Together
Bind off

Pretty basic stuff and easy to find tutorials for if you're unfamiliar. If you've never done a knit-in-the-round project and you enjoy some amigurumi, this might be a good starting point. I hope you'll like it.