What handed is Uncle Hubby?

This is probably Brewer's story to tell, but I can't help it.

My youngest niece (#3) is one of the funniest kids you'll meet. She's full of piss and vinegar and charmingly inquisitive. She cracks me up.

The other day she hit us all (again) with a simple question.

#3: "What handed is Aunt Haddy?"
Weaver: "What?"
#3: "What handed is Aunt Haddy?!"
Weaver: "Oh, she's right-handed."
#3: "What handed is Uncle Hubby?"
Weaver: "I don't know. Ask dad to call Uncle Hubby."
Brewer calls me. Leaves voicemail: "#3 has a very important question for Uncle Hubby."

It is a very important question. She's trying to find pieces of her identity mirrored or not mirrored in others, right? It's very important that she know everyone's handedness.

The older siblings go upstairs to bed. #3 waits up for a returned phone call and an answer to a question. I call back and hand the phone to Uncle Hubby. Not knowing what all this is about, I hear this:

"I use both hands."
*laughing*
"I'm better with my right than my left though."

I get the phone back and talk to Brewer and he explains the handed question. News that Uncle Hubby uses both hands blew her mind. #3 had run upstairs to tell #1 and #2 that, "Unca Hubby uses BOFH hands!!" She was absolutely amazed. Her very own uncle defied all rules and sense of order!! Wow!!

At this point, I realized that my husband has lied to a 3 year old.

Haddy: "You told her you use both hands!!!"
Hubby: "I'm ambidextrous!"
Haddy: "No you're not!"
Hubby: "Ok. I'm ambivalent!"

Seriously. Someone should make a movie out of this family.
At least a cartoon.

Gratuitous Cute Dog

No knitting here. Just dog owner mumblings.

The hounds got new collars yesterday. It's hard to find martingale style collars for sighthounds. It's a long story that I won't get into, but I'm thrilled with new collars that fit. Django got his standard uniform red and my Roxie got a new girly purple:

Tell me that tongue curl isn't cute? I defy you!

I've been thinking about Roxie lately. She's been living with us for 8 months now. 8! We've shared our house with 4 greyhounds (Django, Griffin, Roxie and a little foster Annabelle. I prefer not to discuss Annabelle. She liked to sleep on my head.) and never has a transition been easier. She just fits.

But the part that has me thinking: Does she fit because of us or in spite of us? She prefers to sit, sleep and just be by herself. She does not want her head in your lap. She couldn't care less if you pet her. When you come home she just wants to sniff you and gets little frustrated if you impede her efforts by touching her. Her only request command is that we feed her and that we never, ever forget to feed her ON TIME. That's all. And really, can you blame her? Food is a pretty big need.

I feel like I understand Django inside and out. He looks at my sideways and I know he wants me to tell Hubby to move his leg so that he can get off the couch and tell Roxie to stop blocking the path out of the living room. He's thirsty and he needs me to tell these blockheads to clear his way to the kitchen. I know this. I know him.

Roxie I don't understand. She's got me at arms length. I only recently discovered that she's got a secret clubhouse in the shrubs against the South wall of the house. (So that's where she's disappearing to!) Probably it's a Hickory Hideout for chipmunks and she likes to crash the party.

Like any other greyhound with a racing past, I know she's revealing herself very, very slowly to us. When we were putting in the shade garden a few weeks ago, we realized she's terrified of any human holding anything stick-like.

These are things that trouble a greyhound owner. You're watching your dog discover things. New plants! *sniff* *nibble* "No, Roxie. Don't eat the plants." You pick up a shovel to plant that hydrangea and you see your dog cower, keeping 20 feet between her and you. You realize that she's afraid of the thing in your hands. You realize that you might resemble a trainer with a whip.

You drop the shovel and call her to you with your best encouraging tone. She comes. You try getting her to investigate the shovel on her own, hoping that you have gained her trust. She gives you that eye that says, nope. Not ready. You hug her a send her off to investigate the corner where the rabbits exit the yard.

A few things we do know about Roxie: She's a hunter and never tires of stalking the creatures in the yard. She hops up and down stairs back feet two at a time. She's the Kobayashi of greyhounds and has taught Django to eat dry kibble and to eat in a timely fashion. She likes to share potato and tortilla chips with Hubby. She prefers her bed to ours (YES!). She is not afraid of thunder. She gives kisses.

Maybe she does need us. Who else is going to feed her?

The new purple suits her.
I think the purple brings out her blonde highlights.(humor me, folks)

I can put a girly purple collar on her, but I can't make her act like a lady.

Dish Cloth Heaven

This photo is completely unstaged. My natural habitat. This is the type of thing Hubby has to live with all the time. The chair has looked like this since last Sunday. Remnant yarn from last week's dish cloths, pattern book, more yarn, needles, more patterns... it's really a wonder he puts up with all this. I'd get tired of it myself, if I weren't completely oblivious to it. Yarn? What yarn? Where?

To make it worse, I had him drive me to the craft store today because Sugar n' Cream was on sale:

That was a close call. I was almost out of dish cloth yarn.
That should keep me busy.

I'm almost halfway into a baby kimono sweater already. :)