Olive Green Rug. Round Blue Rugs
Olive Green Rug
- Chartreuse (, or ; ) (the web color) is a color halfway between yellow and green that was named because of its resemblance to the green color of one of the French liqueurs called green chartreuse, introduced in 1764.
- Hamstall Ridware is a village and civil parish in the district of Lichfield in Staffordshire, England. It is in the Trent Valley, and lies close to the villages of Hill Ridware, Mavesyn Ridware and Pipe Ridware. It is eight miles north of the city of Lichfield, and four miles east of Rugeley.
- A thick woolen coverlet or wrap, used esp. when traveling
- A floor covering of shaggy or woven material, typically not extending over the entire floor
- A small carpet woven in a pattern of colors, typically by hand in a traditional style
- floor covering consisting of a piece of thick heavy fabric (usually with nap or pile)
- Rhug (normally Y Rug in Welsh; sometimes given the antiquarian spelling Rug) is a township in the parish of Corwen, Denbighshire, Wales, formerly in the old cantref of Edeirnion and later a part of Merionethshire, two miles from CorwenRug Chapel and ten miles north east of Bala.
- A rug (UK), blanket(Equine and other livestock, US), or coat (canine and other companion animals, US) is a covering or garment made by humans to protect their pets from the elements, as in a horse rug or dog coat.
Lextra (Mughal Lotus), Mouse Rug, Orange/Olive Green/Black/Red, 10.25 x 7.125 Inches, One (MMF-1)
This beautiful lotus-themed MouseRug presents a fresh color story which will blend well with many interior desing schemes. The original rug is attribute to India, mid-17th century. Cotton (wrap and weft), wool (pile); asymmetrically knotted pile. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Bequest of Benjamin Altman, 1913 14.40.714. Produced in cooperation with The Metropolitan Museum of Art from a design in its collection. The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York is one of the world's largest and finest art museums. It's collections include more than two million works of art spanning five thousand years of world culture, from prehistory to the present and from every part of the globe. Nearly five million people visit the museum each year. The Metropolitan's collection of Islamic art, which ranges in date from the seventh to the nineteenth century, reflects the great diversity and range of Islamic culture. Nearly 12,000 objects have been assembled at the Metropolitan from as far westward as Spain and Morocco and as far eastward as Central Asia, India, and Southeast Asia. The collection includes some of the finest Islamic carpets in existence. Copyright 2010 by The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. All rights reserved. Made in the U.S.A. www.metmuseum.org. A portion of the proceeds from the sale of this product will be used to support the Museum.
The Great Gink
My story involves our legendary stray cat Gink, who was my favorite cat of all the cats we had as a children.
One Saturday afternoon in 1971, when I was 10, my father, mother and I went grocery shopping in the old Grand Union Supermarket. As we came out of the store, a storm had come about and it was raining very heavily.
I noticed a small black kitten zipping about in the parking lot, looking for a place to stay dry.
"Dad, there's a poor kitten out there!" I said, and my heart immediately went out to this helpless, shelterless feline.
We looked around the parking lot for it as we rolled the cart out to our olive green Country Squire station wagon but to no avail. As Mom and Dad loaded up the groceries, I kept watch from the back seat, but no kitten anywhere.
Then as we pulled out of the lot, and turned up toward Main Street, we kept hearing a small "Meow! Meow!" Mom couldn't hear it, but Dad and I did. So much so that when we stopped at the first red light, Dad got out of the car and looked under the hood, but saw nothing. We kept hearing it all the way up Main Street, heading west toward home, about a half mile total distance. When we pulled into the driveway, and out from UNDER the car scoots that soggy little homeless kitten -- straight under the back porch!
As far as we could tell, the little guy must have ridden on the axle all the way home! I named him "Gink" after the black cat from one of my favorite stories, "Dory's Magic"
It always amazed me that of all the cars he could have taken shelter under he chose OURS!
Although Gink was a 'black' cat, you can see that when he was outside, his fluffy fur was more of reddish brown. He wasn't always friendly at first, but he really mellowed with age in the love he received all around. When he was in the mood, would let you rub his tummy (he liked flopping on his back to sleep in on the living room rug). I loved the magnificent ruff of fur on his chest. and he used to sit tall on the banister at the top of the stairs, awaiting all who would scratch him under his chin, which he reveled in. As you scratched, he'd point his chin high and close his eyes in pure delight.
From that first day on, Gink lived a charmed life in our family home until his passing in 1986. One reason we think he lived so long was that at one time,while he was still young, Gink had followed Mom into the pantry as she went to get something out of the big freezer we used to have. Well, several HOURS later, someone said "Has anybody seen Gink?" And Mom remembered that the last time she had seen him was.... Uh Oh! She rushed to the freezer, and there several shelves down was Gink, cold, but not frozen, curled up on a shelf, probably wondering what the heck happened! (I like to think he was in suspended animation) The shelf was empty, except for a box of baking soda that he had knocked over, white soda all over his black fur! It must have been enough of an air pocket! He recovered well, and never held it against us!
I'll never forget Gink. As I left home for a six month trip in late '86, I held Gink for a long time before I left. I felt it might be the last time I saw him, and sadly, I was right. A month later, Mom called me to let me know he was gone. He was buried in the back yard under the lilac bush. So appropriate, since he loved being outside, soaking up the sun.
Handcrafted Poplar Crochet Rug Hook Size N, 10mm
Dave handcrafted this approx 5 3/4 inch crochet rug hook using Olive Green color Poplar wood. It is US Size N (10.00 mm). This hook has a hand rubbed bees wax finish.
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Pet smells in carpet. Carpet riverside.
Pet Smells In Carpet
- (smell) the sensation that results when olfactory receptors in the nose are stimulated by particular chemicals in gaseous form; "she loved the smell of roses"
- Perceive or detect the odor or scent of (something)
- Have or use a sense of smell
- Sniff at (something) in order to perceive or detect its odor or scent
- (smell) emit an odor; "The soup smells good"
- (smell) olfactory property: any property detected by the olfactory system
- A floor or stair covering made from thick woven fabric, typically shaped to fit a particular room
- A thick or soft expanse or layer of something
- A large rug, typically an oriental one
- form a carpet-like cover (over)
- rug: floor covering consisting of a piece of thick heavy fabric (usually with nap or pile)
- a domesticated animal kept for companionship or amusement
- (of an animal or bird) Kept as a pet
- Of or relating to pet animals
- favored: preferred above all others and treated with partiality; "the favored child"
- Denoting a thing that one devotes special attention to or feels particularly strongly about
- stroke or caress gently; "pet the lamb"
The Dog's Diary
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Dinner! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
The Cat's Diary
Day 983 of My Captivity
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates my capabilities. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. Bastards!
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow, but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released, and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird must be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now ...
"Excerpts from Pets' Diaries - Part 2 - Cats"
(Part 2 of an e-mail received today from a friend who likes dogs)
Excerpts from a Cat's Daily Diary...
Day 983 of my captivity...
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.
Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am. Bas#@*^%.
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now ..
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