Another went by.
More days at the spanner works experiencing the deepening craziness. Part farce, part high drama.
A day at the hospital while Amy had her brains scanned for weirdness. An anticlimactic and yet thoroughly draining exercise.
Another knitting machine class, more homework to do.
Joined pintrest and now have a whole other vice to not overindulge in.
Dreaming of making myself a jacket with a hood. And a big standing up kind of rim/collar. Possibly in silver. I have no idea where this image is coming from but it is compelling indeed.
Another round of gai yang, and resulting left overs salad the next day eaten in the sun in the tiny park beside parliament. The best I have made so far. I even remembered to take photos of the finished dish and go back and add them in to the post with the recipe. On fire, eh?
Progress in Wil's hoodie - just the hood to finish and it is done. Starting to wonder what to cast on next and with what yarn.
Progress even on the crochet blanket. While it is still only drops in the ocean I am not yet jaded enough to not do a wee little happy dance on the inside as I say another one done. That's 9 down and 403 to go! Yay! I've also worked out a better sorting and carriage system which means I can transport it without needing to take it all.
I have been following the case of Arthur Freeman and have had some illuminating discussions on legal definitions and insanity. I can't tell you how deeply I've felt this, as I know many have from over here on the side lines. I simply can't begin to imagine the horror of that happening anywhere real and close to me. When I read the lines of Darcy's mother's victim impact statement about still feeling her child's hand in hers, of cuddling her at night I had an inkling. Enough to scare the living daylights out of me. There's been some extra hugs for the rascal lad and sparkly girl. Much admiring of eyes and smiles and shiny hair.
And I am also going to out myself and say I am listening to the audio book of eat, pray, love and despite very low expectations and a lingering image of Julia Roberts I would rather not have, I am really quite enjoying it. I know! I think the author is an excellent narrator and I can say with absolute certainty that I never want to see the film, because all that I do like about the book - the musings and language play - would be totally lost in the drippy scenery of romaticisim. I have had more than a few yearnings in this last week or so about returning to India, about taking a bit more time to think about things. Not in a wanky hippy way you understand. Anyway, pleasant to be surprised.
And now I'm off to set all the clocks back to kiss off another year of daylight saving. Just so the kids can get up at 5.30 tomorrow morning.