officially summer, 6.20

It’s officially summer, and the corgi Sir Winston Churchill, despite hating the heat, does love boating. And so he takes his second ride of the season.

If this isn’t pure bliss, an utter representation of a dog’s life, then I don’t know what is…

pup in snow.

Sir Winston Churchill just adores the snow. He gets energized by the cold–and since his legs are so squat, he has to pop his body and prance through the high drifts in the most adorable mania known to man.

He is like a child who wears their pajamas inside out the night before the chance of a snowed out school day.

a dog’s life, 9.9

Sir Winston loves summer boating extravaganzas; he basks at the back–in the wind, excitement, and ever so slightly pushes the envelope of risk, stretching his short little legs right toward the edge.

And he looks gorgeous in black and white, too.

corgi, 8.12

Sir Winston Churchill loves to look out the screen door in search of chipmunks, and his neighbor friend, Irish Wolf Hound Kendrick, who looks like a small pony. A sight to see next to my little guy Win.

Herd up…

For some reason, the corgi Sir Winston Churchill just loooves standing on my knitting…and, well, the coffee table, too.

So if you’ve ever been gifted something handmade by yours truly, its probably got a bit of a contribution from Winston too…

I think he’s attracted to all my yarns and projects because he can smell the sheep, the alpaca, and the like, and desires to flip the ball around the room in instinctual mayhem.  Certainly, I’ve tested it; thrown a bit of acrylic or cotton his way, some cheap yarn, he nary glances, steps, bats, flips…mostly, he just sighs. Oh, but introduce the baby alpaca, the lamb’s wool..the….goodbye project.

File Under: Hairy situation…for sure.

Neck Scarves Take Dos…

Awhiles back, I made my Mum one of these Martha Stewart Knitted Neck Scarfs for warmer weather, particularly the weather we’re having right now. I did a very small post on it and snapped an awful photo of it with my Mac’s built in camera and tossed it off to her to get wearing. That was the extent of it, really.

But while visiting her house this week, I stumbled upon the scarflet and decided it was high time I take some proper snaps of it. I’d made one for the beloved corgi, Sir Winston Churchill, in a tweed colorway, but it was at my apartment. So snap away I did with my Mum’s, Winnie by my side, the most “enthused” of models.

He was particularly entertained during the portion in which he proceeded to bite his lip and yawn continually. However, this scarflet looks adorable on dogs! I hate when dogs wear clothes, but this one…that’s another story.

File Under: Martha Stewart should consider this for her pups…

When life gives you “impatien” corgis…

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When life gives you corgis, you do get help digging in the garden. Right?

The other week my Mum asked if I’d help her get some spring planting done; of course, I obliged and we were on the hunt for low maintenance, shade friendly plants, thanks to a number of factors including–but not restricted to–the fact her yard is shady and its unknown how dead one of her daughters will leave them after being in care.

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That being said, we found a cart aplenty of impatiens, geraniums and begonias. Upon planting, we realized the overzealous to help corgi Sir Winston Churchill didn’t just want to dig the holes…he wanted to lay in the flowers, thusly squishing and flattening their delicate glory, with his behind.

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File Under: He gets away with a lot…and rightly so. He is the cutest pup alive.

When life gives you…Sir Winston.


A bored corgi is a mischievous corgi.

So it happens, when life gives you corgis, you may or may not be subject to certain knitting needles gnarled, chewed–eaten to nothing but little bits of sawdust or maybe a jagged point more conducive to splinter than say, scarf.

And this is exactly what happened to the lovely ribbon horseshoe parade pattern scarf I began making for my Mum for that special Mum’s day this weekend. While making tacos, the sneaky Sir Winston Churchill (who also likes to rip apart bits of paper, not just knitting projects) found my project in the works, dragged it to a quiet nesting spot, proceeded to eat, in entirety, one of the needles before pulling apart what I’d already worked on sticks, as well as unraveling every single bit of yarn left on spool.

It was one giant, snarly mess. And surprisingly, I didn’t anger.

File Under: onto a new idea…