Hmmm...What could that be?

Mommy's hat with added ventilation.It tastes like wool. Rather yummy, forbidden wool. It smells like mommy. Do you think it's mommy's hat?

Well, it used to be mommy's hat. Now, not so much. I have quickly learned that Ash loves my knitting. If I so much as leave for even a moment to go to the bathroom without securing it in a place too high for him to "counter surf," I can depend on finding it in his mouth. I am not so sure that he would ventilate it on his own, but with Zosia the destroyer at his side, he can do quite a bit of damage for the purpose of encouraging play.

Surprisingly, I am not that upset. I made this hat in 2003, and it was kind of a silly knit, complete with two pompoms on the top at the end of long I-cord strings. It was definitely fun while it lasted, and I got good use out of it in DC, but in LA it very rarely sees the outdoors. It just isn't practical for this climate, so it ends up neglected in the winter clothing chest, with all the down jackets and snow boots that we used to wear. It's not really my style anymore, either. What I did realize is that it would look great as a thick headband. I love the twisted stitch cables, and with just the slightest bit of re-working (including tightening up that flaring ribbing at the bottom), it will make a beautiful accessory that will get tons of use. In a round about way, Ash actually did me, and the neglected hat, a favor. Most importantly, he gave me a very concise heads up concerning his knitwear-eating activity by chewing on a hat and one swatch that I had made, rather than the absolutely delicious cashmere sweater that I am working on. And I am eternally grateful for that.

Was that the hat of the mommy who loves us, feeds us, hikes with us?
Why yes, I believe it was.

Plus, I kind of feel honored. I know that this will be knitting blasphemy to those among you who are not animal lovers, but I know that Ash chose to play with my knitting precisely because it was mine. He loves me, and he wants to play with my toys, just like he plays with Zosia's. She doesn't care when he tears her plush toys to shreds. She likes it. I think it's Asher's way of saying that he cares, and that he is so, so happy to be here, rather than in a cold cage at the rescue. I just hope that his intestines get through this intact. I'm not sure how digestible wool is, but I fear someone (maybe two someones?) may be pooping pompoms in the near future.

We are so happy, so pretty. How could anyone be mad at us?