Open Valentine to Katie

Dear Katie,

The pattern for this hat was called "Kitty Hat." It was so cute that I wanted to make it and I thought of you. It made me think of how much you loved my cats when you were little - the first time you put two words together was at my house when you were getting ready to leave one night. You said, "Bye kitty." Of course we all went nuts because it meant you were starting to talk! This hat made me think of all the soft, sweet cuddly things about you, like holding you in my arms when you were a baby and just a few short years later, holding you on my lap while you listened to the Beatles through the headphones on my cassette player (yes, all my Beatles music was on cassettes in those days). This kitty hat also made me think of how I think of you now that you're grown up; how your favorite song is "Tiny Dancer" and how you still love the Beatles and how you still call me your BB.

I showed the finished "Kitty Hat" to some friends and the reaction I got from one was, "Oh, a wolf hat - because she goes to State." I never thought of that even though I made it red because of State, well that, and because it was for Valentine's Day. At first I didn't like the idea of wolf ears because of all the reasons I already mentioned. I associate wolves with ravenous hunger, aggression and a carnivorous hunter. None of those things made me think of you at all. I suppose wolves have a kind of austere beauty but not in a way that I associate with you. Your beauty is the soft-filter focus kind that emanates outward from the beautiful person you are on the inside. Even though a wolf's characteristics don't outwardly describe you, perhaps you might feel a connection with a wolf's spirit of freedom and independence.

Another friend looked at the hat and said, "Oh-ho, devil horns!" Well, you know I don't believe in the devil (there's none in the craft) but did you ever notice how the stereotypical descriptions of Satan are like the greek god Pan? He is depicted as having two, small horns and the lower limbs of a goat. He was a wood nymph who enjoyed playing music and dancing and was known for mischievous activities. Sound familiar?

I didn't realize when I knit this hat that it would have so many interpretations and that maybe they would all, in some way, resonate with aspects of your personality. Whichever personality you feel like portraying when you wear this hat, the cat, the wolf or the mischievous wood imp, I hope you will think of me, who adores you, no matter what, and I hope, most of all, that it keeps your ears warm.



I love you.
Happy Valentine's Day!
Your BB

Snow Day

I just finished reading Stephen King's new novel Cell. I'm a huge King fan going way way back. I've read everything he's ever written and mass-published. One critic accused the public of reading anything Steve wrote including his laundry list and I would be one guilty of that. If he were to string two words together and publish it on his website, I'd be there to find out what he had to say. I've even read and listened to his iPod playlist. I'm such a fan, in fact, that I have devised a clever plan to induce him and his wife, "the novelist Tabitha King," to come to my hometown and fall in love with the area and decide to stay and build a house here. In doing so, he decides to write a short essay on baseball published exclusively by my publishing company thus saving it from financial ruin (uh ... the financial ruin part is also part of the fantasy).

So what was I talking about before I got full of myself? Oh yeah. Cell, which I have taken to calling The Stand Lite. It's the same premise basically, as The Stand, with a modern update. Something happens and the civilization as we know it breaks down. Everybody ends up walking someplace and there's evil. Plenty of evil. The older I get, the more the evil creeps me out. I used to devour it and now I shudder to think ... at any rate, the reason I have to read Stephen King is because of the characters. I always get so involved with the characters that I find myself thinking about them throughout my day. "Will Clay ever find his wife and son? Will they be normies or phone-crazies? What will become of 15-year-old Alice knowing that both her parents had cell phones? And what about Tom?" I felt sure Tom would end up being the one to sacrifice himself in the final showdown between the normies and the crazies starring The Raggedy Man (c'mon, folks! we all know it's really Randall Flagg in that Harvard sweatshirt) but I was wrong. And the ending? I won't blow it for those of you who haven't finished but I will say that it was completely unexpected and after sitting there staring stupidly at the last page for perhaps 45 seconds, I realized there could have been no other way to end it. Or, rather, no other good way to end it.

The thing that struck me the most, that I can't quite quit thinking about - no, it's not that I should chuck my cell phone in the ditch - it's the fact that I believe Stephen King wrote Dolores Umbridge into his book! You muggles out there won't know who I'm talking about but if you know Umbridge, you'll recognize her immediately in the exodus from Boston chapter of "Cell." I'm reading and I'm reading and I'm thinking, "HEY! I recognize that woman!" It seems just like something Steve would do. Take one of the most evil characters from another work of fiction and incorporate them into his vision and his world. She's changed, only slightly, from her original casting, but she is easily recognizable. If you're reading Cell, and certainly some of you are, it's #5 on Amazon.com list, then look at pages 61-64 and see if you don't agree with me.

Today on "The View"

More pictures of the view from my front porch today. If you click on the pictures for an enlarged version, you can actually see the snow fall. We've got about 5 or 6 inches of snow on the ground and more predicted to fall today and tomorrow. They've plowed my street once-yesterday, about noon-but if they don't plow it again today, I probably can't get out of my driveway until they do or it melts, whichever comes first. Usually the melting.

As I turned back into the house from taking these pictures, this is the view on the inside.



People often make comments to us about how large our Yorkies are and sometimes people don't even believe they're Yorkies. They are on the larger size for Yorkies - they weigh 7 and 9 pounds. However, when viewed next to Barkley ... it's a different story. He weighs right at 100 pounds. You could almost neatly tuck a Yorkie into each of Barkley's ears. He's rather an imposing figure, isn't he?

Karma and Tantra

I don't have babies of my own as most of you well know. As most of you also well know, my dogs and cats are my children. I have an unfortunate proclivity of, when people speak of things their children do or show me pictures or, worst of all, actually show me their children, thinking, "Oh yeah, Karma does that" or "That reminds me of Tantra." I try not to say these things out loud as I don't know how most people would react to their precious baby being compared to a dog - a comparison that I think irrelevant but, at the same time, I remain aware of a mother's sensitivity. That being said, look at my sweet little babies! Aren't they so cute? Look at the adorable way they cock their heads when their pictures are being taken. Aren't they so sweet? Awww. Lookie, lookie, lookie!

Baby Update and I Meet Katie on Doggett Road

If you've been waiting with breathless anticipation to find out about my friends' babies, I have some news. My friend from work, Natalie, had her baby girl, whom they named Ava Cassidy (photo at left). Mom and baby are doing fine.

My friend Tracy's sister, Teri, had her baby boy on February 4th. His name is Andrew Vincent. Here's what Tracy had to say about him:

He's here! My nephew arrived around 10:30 this morning! What a cool birthday, eh? "2/4/06" Reminds me of "2-4-6-8, who do we appreciate?" I think the beginning of a cheer certainly is befitting for celebrating the arrival of a new life!

No pictures yet but I expect some any minute since Tracy left this week to meet her new nephew. He lives with his parents in Virginia.

My friend, Beth, found out last week that her baby is a boy. This is, indeed, what I predicted. I don't claim to be psychic or clairvoyant or whatever but I believe in a Universal Intelligence that knows all, sees all and, ultimately, tells all if you just tune in and listen. Seems Beth's baby boy has got some strong broadcast abilities as every time Beth talked about him and gestured at her newly rounded belly, I got the signal loud and clear like an XM satellite station: "I'm a boy!"

The spring after my friend Karen's mother, Laura, passed away, I had a very strong dream of Laura. She was in heaven, of course, all swirly white clouds and peaceful, happy, loving feelings with angelic hosannas emanating sweetly all around. On Laura's lap sat a baby girl, about six months old with a full head of black hair, a beautiful baby girl. Laura said, "This is Karen's baby. I'm keeping her with me until it's time." When next I heard that Karen was pregnant, I told her about my dream and felt sure that her mother was sending that beautiful baby to her daughter. I was wrong. The baby sent to Karen was Tulsa, a boy, who was the son that Karen had dreamed of since we were probably about nine or ten years old. Tulsa will soon be five and the time has come for the baby girl to arrive. She'll be here sometime in March and I can't wait to meet her. Her name is going to be Jolie (French for "pretty") Somora (I'm not sure if that's how it will be spelled). It goes with Tulsa Walker, doesn't it?

Yesterday, I was driving to the post office on my lunch break and was going up the hill on Doggett Road toward the 7-11 convenience store. In the middle of the road squatted a little black dog doing it's business. It was a very small dog, about the size of Karma. I slowed down and drove around it, looking at it out the window as I did. We made eye contact and I'm sure the little dog read the sign on my forehead that is there for all dogs and cats to see: "SUCKER!" As I pulled away from the little dog, it sprinted after me. "Oh no," I thought because she was sprinting toward the highway. She romped wildly around my car as I stopped at the stop sign, seemingly completely unaware of any danger from cars flying by a few feet from her tiny little body. I pulled into the parking lot at the 7-11 and got out of my car, picked up the little black dog and plopped her in Karma's and Tantra's car seat. Thankfully, she had on a collar with a tag. Her name was Katie and her mum's name was Allison H*****. I called the phone number on the tag and as I waited for an answer, it suddenly and belatedly occurred to me to wonder what I would do if no one was home at Katie's house. Finally, someone answered and I said, "Is this Allison? My name is Brenda Manfredi and I have Katie." She seemed somewhat taken aback and I realized maybe I sounded like a kidnapper. I have Katie and if you ever want to see her again leave six pounds of Pupperoni in plain zip-lock baggies by the side of the Pizza Plus. Quickly she recovered and said, "Oh! I let her out and she didn't ever come back." I told her where I was and she agreed to meet me at the post office. Katie, as it turns out, is nine months old and so enthusiastic about life, she has to run out into the world to meet everybody. She was a very sweet and pretty little dog with sleek black hair and floppy ears that are trying valiantly to stand up but haven't quite got the knack of it yet. She rode with studied aplomb in Karma's and Tantra's car seat as if this sort of thing happened to her everyday. Allison said they had trouble keeping her at home and I fear for her future if she continues to do her business on the yellow line of roads.



Here's Terry's poncho blocking on the kitchen table. It turned out ... um ... unsatisfactory. I mean, it's pretty and all but it doesn't quite fit him correctly. It sort of bunches at the neck and is too short. This is indeed disappointing as I knit a gauge before I started and the thing equals the measurements of the pattern. I don't know ... I have a whole skein of the wood-colored yarn left over and largish balls of all the other colors. It may be that I will unravel it (!!!) and reknit it on larger needles to see if that does any good. I won't be doing that for a while though.

Today it's snowing and I'm knitting a couple of dog sweaters to take up to Michelle's groom shop to sell when Karma has her winter spa day next week. Karma will be three years old on Valentine's day. Can you believe it? I can't hardly believe the time has gone by so fast.

I've got to get started on something for Jolie Somora. I've got two patterns that I'm trying to decide between. My ultimate choice will depend on the availability of yarn. I may have to venture out to the un-local yarn shop in Boone.

Meanwhile, here's the view from my front porch today: