Every year since time began, I've been telling myself that I would have Dutch Beauty finished before I reached the age of 38. Then I switched it to 39, and then 40, and so on. My new goal is to have it finished before I'm 99.
The only way to make that happen is to work on it when Tilly is being her wide-awake, ornery self. Because for some reason, that feline has taken to using my sampler as a cozy spot to take her 4-hour-long siestas, which she does twice per day. (This must be quite amusing to her, considering my mother has always referred to my Dutch Beauty as "your Dutch Blanket.")
I've found that cats don't exactly move when you tell them to. As a matter of fact, every time I tell her to move off of my stuff, I get this feeling that she's mocking me, and looking at me like I'm Rodney Dangerfield or something.
"Tilly! You're on my stuff! Move!"
"Tills, honey. You're on my stuff. If you move, I'll distract the Yorkie while you sneak up and go all screech-owl on her like you enjoy doing."
"TILLY, DOUBLE DAG-NAMMUT!!!!!"
And so her name is stricken, and she shall forever be referred to as "the Cat."