I’ve been resolutely ignoring emails about school until yesterday, but then I really had to get going and do things. And then I noticed that I was supposed to phone someone last Friday, so I procrastinated – with literal intention, of course. So I’ve done that, and received two more long calls – I don’t really talk on the phone much, usually. I was quite glad of a glass of wine by the time all was done, and then I turned round to find that the Sage had finished the cooking of the dinner.
I have my car back for a few days – that is, the likelihood is that Weeza and Phil will get their own back within a few days, but if not I’ll keep mine over the weekend, as I need it tomorrow, Saturday and Tuesday. So do they, so if the need arises I’ll go over there on Monday night and Weeza and I can share it on Tuesday. She and I went to a wool shop, because she wants to knit her grandma-in-law a shawl for her 90th birthday – she and Phil’s parents are planning to go on a cruise in celebration and Weeza thought that a light and elegant shawl for the evenings might be rather well received. Grandma used to do a lot of knitting and sewing and will appreciate the effort. She really doesn’t want to be given stuff that she’ll have to find somewhere to put. It was a lovely shop, and the lady in charge knew what she was talking about. There were also bags of washed fleece to buy if you wanted to do your own spinning, which vastly appealed to me. Not that there’s any real likelihood of my taking up spinning as a hobby. With all the brambles around here, the place is enough like Sleeping Beauty’s palace already. If the palace was a 16th century cottage, that is.
Zerlina was very good. There were all these open compartments with different wools and she just wandered around looking at them – I kept an eye on her in case she started pulling them on the floor, but she does know it’s not allowed. I never removed things from shelves when my children were small either – I expected them not to wreck the house, although I was pretty relaxed about untidiness. When I did housework, I used to clean a part of the room and then dump the babies there with toys and they could mess it up again, except cleanly, leaving me to finish the rest of the room.
The Sage is going to London tomorrow on an early train. I’ve set the alarm for 5.30. I’ve got to be out by half past 8 myself. Several of us are going to the church, to spend the morning arranging flowers. I expect to do very little of that, but to do more menial tasks. I’m glad to say that the others involved are all much better at flower arranging than I am – I mean, I’ll always have a go, but that doesn’t mean I know what I’m doing.
Ooh knitting. That’s quite put me in the mood (to do some knitting I mean).
Are Weeza and Phil’s parents planning to go on a cruise to celebrate the fact that Weeza is knitting, or grandma-in-law’s 90th birthday?
I like to think that the knitting I did last winter, for the first time in several decades, might have inspired her.
I think the context makes it clear, Dave, but thanks for the opportunity to clarify. I hope you slept well and I shall visit you forthwith to find out.
Thank you for your enquiry. No, I didn’t, and the pain is making me a bit irritable. I’m also very, very sad today, but will explain the reason for that in a couple of days.
Oh Dave, I’m so sorry.
knitting – I did some of that once 🙂
I never moved things either, if you move things they never learn not to touch
I like the idea of knitting more than I do the fact of it. Or rather, I like the action but I find following a pattern quite worrying because I keep losing count of stitches and rows and make mistakes.
That’s it, Helen. My children could be trusted with antique china from an early age – but then, we’re a calm lot. If I’d had a houseful of exuberant footballers, I might have changed my mind.
I’m afraid the nearest I ever got was French knitting, where you loop wool over four pins stuck in the end of a cotton-reel and produce an endless worm of wool through the hole in the middle, which you subsequently – if you can be bothered – wind like a sailing rope into a circle and use as a place-mat. Or something. But it’s just as therapeutic as knitting…
…I don’t do it any more, though.
Knitting … is part of my idea of hell. I definitely prefer flower arrangement.