adventures in crocheting

As of approximately 7PM tonight, everyone on the compound is officially finished with the Fall 2011 semester!

In celebration, The Pretty One and I decided we were going to crochet, because we are old women like that. And since it is cold and rainy and disgustingly wintery here, it was obvious we should work on items of clothing that would contribute to our sincere efforts to not freeze to death. We found these knitted sock things and thought, Yes!

Looked easy enough, and we are prone to cockiness when we think we even have a basic grasp on the skills required to complete a task. This self-confidence is unfounded. As you will shortly realize. Below, witness each of our first attempts at making socks. Yes, they are hats. Of vastly different sizes. This was absolutely, embarrassingly unintentional. 

Some would consider this an epic failure.

We did.

Until we realized how perfect The Pretty One's hat was for....

Dobby

So we have a pet wallaroo.

Seriously.

He's pretty great. He likes pretzels, belly rubs, ear scratches, our Golden Retriever, and attempting to groom the people he loves, even though the people he loves don't really appreciate that at all, because he has tiny, grabby little Velociraptor hands that don't feel so great when they're trying to rip non-existent bugs off your legs. He also hisses like a cat, but only when he's happy. Two years later, and I still have to remind myself that the hissing is not my clue to back away slowly.

Dobby also comes when called. Consistently. And pretty rapidly. We have a ridiculously large number of pets, and only two other creatures (the dogs! and only two of them!) in our world do that. So we enjoy it. Also, I love Dobby enough to talk to him in the stereotypically doting baby-voice of all pet owners. I already know this - you don't need to point it out.