Spring!

"April is the cruelest month, breeding

lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

memory and desire, stirring

dull roots with spring rain."  ~T.S. Eliot

It has been a long, cold, and gray March this year, so much so that I am eager to welcome April, however cruel it may be.  Yesterday was the first really spring-like day we have had here, and after holding out for a sunny day for the last two or so weeks, several of the flowers in our yard finally began to bloom:

We moved to this house in June last year, and first saw it towards the beginnings of last April.  I remember the tree in the front yard was in full pink bloom when we were here, and I remember seeing daffodils, but basically all that is growing right now is a surprise.

There's a bit of color indoors too:

Owen with stripes and rainbows!

Catsam and Jetsam

I promised a Dorothy post a while back, but I don't have one yet!  This is more or less because everything is calm on the bulldogge front.  She's taking zyrtec, which is keeping her skin allergies at bay, and she spends her days glued to Sean's side, happily following him about and hoping he will take her into the yard for a good play session.

But a few cat moments!  First, the other day I went looking for my book and found Posy using it as a pillow.  I DID remove it from under her chin, but it was a frightening undertaking, believe you me.

Posy thinking, it's your choice, your book or keeping all your digits....

Plum has been seeking out new man-caves worthy of his rest.  At the moment he enjoys both hall closets, and can often be found in whichever one has the door left ajar:

For my birthday a month ago, I received two glittery things for the sunny window on our landing:  a little green glass bird from my friend, Megan, and a prism from my parents:

I haven't figured out how to get a good picture of them yet, but the prism sends rainbows everywhere, which both cats enjoy trying to catch.  Here is Posy after such a rainbow hunting session:  exhausted after not finding a pot of gold, she has decided to just rest in the sun instead.

The Nap Corral at the Elusive Z Ranch

We have just started sleep training Owen, which I might write about later if it works.  (If it doesn't work, I'll be too tired and grumpy to write).  We are working on his bedtime routine first, and then hopefully the nap routines will follow suit.  In the meantime, however, when Owen is napping or falling asleep, the one of us who is not praying to the sleep gods with Owen can often be found wrangling the pets.  This is because our pets seem to like nothing more than doing something loudly right where Owen is napping--like barking at the mailman coughdorothycough, singing arias coughposycough, or running like an elephant back and forth by Owen's head coughplumcough.

So sometimes I will corral all four-legged critters into one room, like so:

All three varmints are up on the bed with me engaged in some kind of forced snooze or other.  I think this particular nap lasted over an hour, and ended naturally.  A success!

Going On Eighty

One of the benefits to having a boy baby -- besides being able to ignore the side of the children's clothing stores that's an explosion of pepto bismol pink with sparkles -- is that one can dress him like a grandpa.  I mean, come on, what is cuter than a chubby baby dressed up like an old man?  I know!!  Not much!  Case in point:

His Great Aunt Elsie gave him the plaid shirt for Christmas.  His Aunt Susan bought him the grandpa hat, and surprisingly he doesn't seem to mind it.  He doesn't attempt to take it off or grab it, at any rate.  And so I am interpreting acquiescence as preference.

And in case you were missing Owen's spotted trousers from his Aunt Martha...they're back!!!!  And they still fit!

And to continue with the grandpa theme, I have paired them with the closest thing Owen has to a pair of white bucks:

Here is Owen in pictures taken this very morning, wearing one of my favorite outfits, which he received from his Idaho relatives!  It's his monster trousers and onesie, with a monster on chest and derriere.  If you look closely, you can spy one of his two new teeth!

And last but not least, here is a picture of Owen in his father's hat, looking exactly like his father:

Owen in Rowan

At very long last, I finished the sweater I started knitting for Owen a few months before he was born.  It is from Rowan's "Little Rowan" book and is the "Jack Horner" pattern made from their Siena 4-Ply yarn.  I'm a big fan of Rowan patterns and yarn, and about 75% of the sweaters I knit are Rowan patterns.  But I didn't really like the Siena 4-Ply yarn.  It reminded me of kitchen string.  And so I had a bit of a hissy fit stand-off with myself, not letting me start a new project until this one was done, and then not doing any knitting on this one either.  Not that I've had much knitting time anyway.

Luckily when I started the sweater I chose to do the 9-12 month size; and it is a rather large 9-12 month size, so it is still on the big side for Owen.

Here is the finished product:

The sample in the pattern book used cream colored yarn with blue stripes and red piping at the neck and waistband.  I used the same cream but then did light orange stripes with darker orange piping.  I figured Owen could look like a creamsicle while wearing it.  And he rather does.

Here is Owen modeling his new sweater:

Perhaps a bit wide in the neck, but otherwise respectable enough!  And now I can choose a new project from my obscenely long queue!

Tidbits

This will be a flotsam and jetsam type post, since putting together something more cohesive would require brainpower which I don't have at the moment, plus maybe some caffeine...and there's a Posy on my lap.  If I put Posy on the floor, she is fully capable of marching into the dining room in which Owen is sleeping and making a ruckus.  And that would end in tears--both mine and Owen's.  So in the spirit of where I am right now--which is feeling like I have a million things to do which don't get done and what does get done gets done shoddily--here is a camera dump of sorts!

Here is the little wench in a cat trap placed stealthily on the floor:

And here is a solemn Owen out shopping with his Aunt Susan, and refusing to get in the spirit of the upcoming holiday.  And really, when you can't partake in a chocolate rabbit because of your tender age, what is the point in acting festive?!

Taking advantage of a rare warm day and "enjoying" the porch swing.  As Sean said, there goes the neighborhood.

Who doesn't appreciate a good tub shot?  His rubber ducky is not in the picture but you can be sure it is right nearby.

We have taken to watching re-runs of Star Trek: TNG, and have thus gotten Owen addicted to the theme song.  The picture below is the face he makes when he hears Patrick Stewart intone, SPACE.  THE FINAL FRONTIER....  Yes, we have us a geeklet!

And then when the trumpets come in and start playing the fanfare:

Owen can now sit on his own, although he is still a bit tippy.  His granny wanted to see a picture of his skillz, and below are two of my attempts.  In one he is teething (he is getting twin teeth on the bottom!) and in the other he is falling over.  Oops!  He's still working on using his teletubby hindquarters as ballast.

And finally, here is Owen not very much enjoying his second encounter with pureed meat.

But then he saw Aunt Susan's camera and decided to ham it up!

Next time swallow the poultry first, Owen.

No pictures of Dorothy in this camera dump!  And she has been such a good girl too.  I promise some Dorothy pictures in near future entries!