Getting away with it

Our marriage is not one of the old-fashioned patriarchal type where I have to get Rob's permission to spend money. However, all our income goes into and comes out of one account, so it's only polite to mention it when one of us has been spending.

The thing is, Rob doesn't give a monkey's when I buy clothes. Some people's husbands get funny about it -- not mine. But whenever I buy yarn, I get 'Oh, darling!' in a slightly disapproving tone. So last time I went clothes shopping, I cam home and unloaded the bags, showing Rob each thing as I unpacked it:

Me: Look, I got a t-shirt, a jacket, jeans and a jumper for you... And this (revealing a John Lewis bag full of yarn) is a jumper for me.

Rob: Oh darling. That's yarn.

Me: No, it's a jumper. It's self-assembly.

And he couldn't really argue with that. I love Rob.

Pissaladiere

If there was ever a recipe that could have been invented for me and Rob, pissaladiere is it:

• it's got a kilo of onions in it
• and 24 anchovies
• and it sounds like it's made of wee.

Yummers!

Jaywalkers

I finished Mum's Jaywalkers. I was really pleased with them. The yarn really suits the pattern (it's the June sock club yarn from the Yarn Yard).

However, they don't fit. Unlike me, Mum does not have fat ankles. And I am not a tight knitter. But she can't get them on! They'll have to be passed on to someone who's a complete twiglet. Maybe I'll send them to Amy Winehouse.

Does *your* home have a cat infestation?

Ours does. Spot the evidence.

Celebrity spotting

Out with Jazzy Jaff and and the Fresh Princess last night. As we walked past Carluccio's in Tunbridge Wells on our way to the car park, who should we see sitting in the window seat but...

the one and only

the legendary

...TOM BAKER!

Holy shit! We walked past two or three times just to make sure.

He lives near T Wells somewhere. Mum once caught his eye as she was going up and he was going down the escalators in Royal Victoria Place.

Suspicious behaviour

On the Tube the other day I saw a guy wearing a hoodie with 'HAMAS' written on the back. Blimey, I thought, he's risking a bullet (or five) in the back of his head. Then he moved the strap of his bag and I realised the word was actually 'BAHAMAS'.

A philosophical enquiry

If I knit a sock, frog it, rewind the yarn and knit it again, is it the same sock?

The Cat Poo Song

There's a cat poo on the lawn
tra-la-la-la-la
There's a cat poo on the lawn
tra-la-la-la-la-la
Cat poo on the lawn
tra-la-la-la-la
It looks like a sugar in a plum (plum plum)

Show me a motion
tra-la-la-la-la
Show me a motion
tra-la-la-la-la-la
Show me a motion
tra-la-la-la-la
It looks like a sugar in a plum (plum plum)

repeat ad nauseum

Fox in the bin

So, early this morning I was woken by the sound of a fox rummaging through our rubbish. I leant out of the window -- it was dark so I could only hear the fox -- and went 'psssstttttt!' as loudly as I could. I heard the fox skittering off down the lane.

When I cleared up the rubbish that Fantastic Mr Fox had spread all over the pavement I discovered what he'd eaten: manky old Greek salad, with feta cheese of almost indescribable stinkyness; burnt aubergine rind; maggoty cat food remains and the pickled jalapenos from Mr S's kebab.

What he didn't eat, however, were the orange and strawberry creams left over from a box of Roses. Even a fox won't touch those foulest of chocolates.

Lordy!

Have I really not posted anything since October? Well what's been goin on...

I've done a lot of knitting. Mr S bought me yarn for a Rogue for Christmas but once I realised I wouldn't have it finished in time to wear this Winter I decided to put it aside for a while and knit more socks.

Making lists, watching films

In the manner of The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon, I have decided to make lists. This one is:

10 things that smell nice

1. rain in the summer
2. freesias
3. yarn bought from my local craft shop
4. cats
5. fresh coffee
6. toast
7. Mr S's forearm
8. hay (although it sets off my hayfever)
9. Camden Market
10. clothes which have ben dried outdoors

Last night I went with L and her sister G to see 'Little Miss Sunshine'. It was really the best film I have seen for a very long time. Good plot, excellent script, very very sad and incredibly funny at once. My only very minor criticism was that at times, it almost descended into slapstick -- but it managed to stay the right side of the line. Highly recommended.

Mr S looked after L's son T while we went out. They watched Batman Begins together on Sky. I've not seen it but from reviews I'd read I thought it might be a bit deep, not to mention violent, for a 9-yr-old (it's rated 12). But they both really enjoyed it and Mr S told me afterwards that it had led them on to quite a philosophical discussion about the nature of good and evil. Just goes to show how much T has grown up. Crikey makes me feel old.

I'm dead...

...killed by a rather fab pair of Kool-Aid dyed socks from the USA. So I died happy. I'll post pictures soon.

A dilemma

This morning I had an email from someone I used to work with years ago, suggesting all of us who used to work together meet up for reunion lunch. So far, so good.

Trouble is, everyone else who'd be going has young children, ranging from very small to just-started-school. I really, honestly have nothing against kids. Individually they're very nice. But last time we all went out together, there were so many children that it was impossible to hold a coversation with anyone, and in the rare interludes when my former colleagues weren't tending to their offspring, all they had to talk about was... their offspring. It was chaotic, noisy and kind of negated the point of going out to catch up on each others' news. And what made things worse was one of the women, who I never really got on with anyway, had a go at the restaurant staff for not serving our group first just because we had children with us!So to be honest I really don't want to go.

The organiser wants to know the dates I can make in the next few weeks, so I can't just say, sorry busy that day. I feel if I suggest we go out for dinner, sans kids, they'll think I don't like their children. And if I just reply saying sorry I just don't want to go, they'll think I don't like anyone. But I really don't want to waste time and money on an outing I won't enjoy.

Bloody hell.

Oh dear...

I'm not really very good at this blogging thing. So what's my latest news? Well, we sold the Land Rover and both me and Mr S had a few tears, cos we felt like we were selling our dream. One day we'll have another one, but instead of a V8 we'll get a diesel and run it on chip fat. So now the hunt is on for a R-or-younger Ford Escort Diesel estate. They seem to be like rocking-horse shit at the moment tho.

I'm doing the LighterLife diet and so far I've lost over a stone in 3 weeks so that's pretty cool. Should mean I feel a lot more comfortable with myself in time to go on holiday.

I'm still in Sock Wars but probably not for long, as a very nice lady emailed to say she was about to sock me to death. Watching the post box with trepidation... I've not heard from my target to say she's had her socks, but then she's not posted anything on the forum either so perhaps she's gone AWOL.

Currently on the needles I have a green twisted-rib sock with my first short-row heel. But the heel is too pointy so if I can be bothered I might frog it and try again. I've also knitted a few rows of a drop-stitch ribbon yarn scarf (intended as an Xmas present for someone) but it's such a booooooring knit that I've stalled on it.

Gaaargh how sad am I? My new Hoover (well, Dyson, but you know what I mean) has just arrived from Amazon and I got really excited. That's extremely crap considering I don't even do my own cleaning. so now I'm off to open the box, then I must do some work.

Recent achievements...

... which only knitters will find interesting.

1. I taught myself to knit with one colour in my right hand and one in my left. Yes, ambidextral knitting.
2. I learnt 'magic loop'. Makes the sock process a bit quicker, just in time for Sock Wars.

Let battle commence

OMG I'm a Sock Warrior! I'm a little bit nervous about Sock Wars. I've got a feeling I'm going to get killed quite early.

Just say NO to Ikea

Me, Mr S and mum all went to Ikea at Lakeside this Sunday, much against my better judgement. I knew it was going to be off-the-scale hellish when we couldn't find a parking space for all the Shoguns with baby on board stickers. Even saw one with 'triplets on board' -- nothing like telling the world just how fertile you are. We only went for inspiration and catalogues and came home with neither. According to Mr S it was my fault he left the catalogues at the checkout because I went off to try and and buy a bottle of water, leaving him to struggle with paying for a pack of chopsticks and a photo frame.

So I have a blog... well there ya go. Better start writing stuff.