This is Lily. We are now a two-cat household.
She is a not-full-grown stray female who had been living in my friend's barn for the past few weeks. My friend (a) dislikes cats and (b) has a free-range parakeet in the house, so no cat for her. She and her kids were feeding it and had given it a box to sleep in, but it needed a warm home.
What choice did we have?
We are now the owners of a very affectionate, loud-purring, sweetheart of a cat, who is currently living in my daughter's room (until the Milo-Lily standoff gives way to peaceful negotiations) enjoying the indoor weather and the constant cuddling. My daughter is loving it. Here they are yesterday morning at 7 a.m.:
We worried that Milo would shred Lily like a chew toy but so far it appears he's gotten the worst of it. He growls threateningly at her and chases her under the bed and then when he turns to walk away and has his back to her, she runs out, slashes him across the rump, and runs back under the bed.
He may get his comeuppance yet.
When I came up into the hallway after such an exchange this morning, I found Milo sitting outside the bedroom door looking wide-eyed, clearly baffled by this turn of events, his tail puffed to three times its normal width. Now, tonight, Lily is hiding behind my daughter's (open) bedroom door peering through the crack, and Milo is sitting two feet from the space between door and casing, and they are staring each other down. All is quiet for now. They'll be fine.
In other news, it's winter in Vermont. Still. Early Saturday morning, it was cold.
For those of you who are not used to such temperatures, it changes the atmosphere. The snow is different; it's squeaky and crunchy underfoot. If it's not windy, there's an insulated stillness you don't get when the ground is bare. I hate the cold, but that morning there was a layer of frost crystals on everything I couldn't resist exploring:
Click on this one for a closeup:
While frost settled on the branches outdoors, Milo settled on the radiator inside.
Once the sun came out, everything sparkled, but I couldn't do it justice with the camera.
In knitting news, I returned to and finished my handspun Shaelyn, which had gone on a back burner for a couple of months while I finished other projects. Now it's done.
(Check out the temples; I'm growing out the gray and it's taking FOREVER.)
This is made of merino/tencel I overdyed and spun a while back. It's a great pattern that probably looks better in a solid yarn than multicolor handspun, but I still love it. Tonight I started a pair of French Press Slippers, which, to the uninformed, are felted slippers that look sort of like ballet flats. Although I love my new felted clogs, I'd like something a little less Sasquatch for the spring.
No pictures, but I brewed a 5-gallon batch of beer Sunday. Great fun. The ceremonial drinking of the first bottle of Lazy J Canadian Ale will take place on my birthday, coming up in March. Cross your fingers.
Hey, it's almost 9 p.m., past my bedtime. Morning comes early in these parts. Night.