Meet Joey

Meet Joey (the really green one on the left). Unlike Ralphie the Dead Kitty, he is not dead. Also, his name might not be Joey, because he is living as his secret identity, so he's probably lying about his name in order to protect his real identity. Wait, if he is living as that secret identity all the time now that his mask is literally stitched into his head, that makes his old regular identity kind of nonexistant and his secret identity his regular one now, doesn't it? So, I guess he's really just Joey and nobody else at this point.

Meet Joey.

Joey and Triphina

I worked on him all day on Saturday so that I could give him to the lovely Triphina (the human on the right in the above picture) at a Christmas party. He was supposed to have a red cape, but when he heard that it was a women-only party, he decided that he'd rather try his chances naked, pleased as he is with his natural-born bulbosity. He wasn't confident enough in his ability to pull off a cape without looking fey. He's really against looking fey.

Joey 1

I crochet some of the tightest crochet possible. I crippled myself all up on Saturday with my hours of effort to push a crochet hook through impossibly stiff loops, and now my hands don't work like they did before. I was under the false impression that my hands were all better now that four days had passed, but I didn't take into account the three hours of knitting I did this afternoon when I gave the Palinode an animated thumbs up and said "Aces!". I can't even remember what he got an "Aces!" for now, because the pain that shot through the bases of my thumbs erased all memory of the previous few moments of my life.

I think I might have to tape my thumbs down to my palms to aid in the healing process and to avoid abrupt and stunning pain. A lack of thumbs might prove to make some things difficult, but I could always use this as an opportunity to learn how to play the bongoes or wave like the Queen.

There is also another silver lining to my crippled thumbs. Depending on how long I will be suffering from this particular malady, it has the potential to break me of my thumbs-up-Aces! habit, which is an embarrassment to all and sundry. It's true. Even the cats look away when I do it.

Grace In Small Things: Part 26 of 365

Grace In Small Things: Part 25 of 365