Back when I worked at the theatre (yes that's theatre with an 're'), a coworker discovered she was expecting twins. We were all super happy for her. One day on a stop into our cluster of cubicles she was bemoaning the cost of childcare (especially for multiple kids). She had us all cracking up with her solution to leave the babies in the care of her surly male cat, named Jean Pierre*. Jean Pierre had a reputation amongst those who had cat-sat for him as being sly, moody and very picky about his people. I could just picture him, taking her kids out for a stroll smoking his French cat cigarettes, and wishing he were in Paris.
*names have been changed to protect the innocent.
This is my first attempt at the 5 Minute Doodle challenge. One of my favorite words is "Winkelen", it means "to shop" in Dutch. A Winkel is a shop and a Winkelcentrum is a shopping center. I love the word because it sounds so fun when you say it, as is should..because shopping in Holland is one of the most fun things to do (besides drinking coffee and chatting with your loved and missed relatives and friends...miss you guys)!
This week's Illustration Friday topic is "Blanket". Back in the 70s my grandma crocheted a zig-zag, three tone green afghan (as she would call it) for my grandpa's naps. It matched his avocado green recliner, and was crocheted extra long to cover his 6 foot 6 inch frame from shoulder to foot. When she was done with the blanket, my grandpa took it for a test drive. Turned out all that extra yarn made it too heavy, and he called it the 'Horse Blanket'. Gramps was a wannabe cowboy in his older years, and I am sure he would have much rather saddled up a horse with that blanket than take naps under it. He was always on the go. I like to think that during his naps under the Horse Blanket he dreamed about taking a horse for a ride, and maybe letting the horse curl up with him under Grandma's heavy duty creation.
Years later after Gramps passed away, my mom and I were helping my grandma clean out some of her stuff and the horse blanket reappeared. It was in mint condition, since Gramps had taken to napping under a much lighter blanket. "Does anyone want this old blanket I crocheted for Gramps?" she asked. Of course I snatched it up.
Back when I worked at the theatre (yes that's theatre with an 're'), a coworker discovered she was expecting twins. We were all super happy for her. One day on a stop into our cluster of cubicles she was bemoaning the cost of childcare (especially for multiple kids). She had us all cracking up with her solution to leave the babies in the care of her surly male cat, named Jean Pierre*. Jean Pierre had a reputation amongst those who had cat-sat for him as being sly, moody and very picky about his people. I could just picture him, taking her kids out for a stroll smoking his French cat cigarettes, and wishing he were in Paris. 
