Sunday, 31 January 2010

You're so heavy handed!

I've never felt particularly at home in my body. I'm clumsy, I trip over my own feet, bump into stationary objects and am incapable of closing a cupboard door without banging it (the title of this post was a recurring refrain from my childhood). So the feeling, when trying to teach myself to crochet, of knowing what I wanted my hands to do, but finding it almost impossible to get them to actually do it, is frustratingly familiar. Time after time, I begin a foundation chain and struggle along until I find myself stuck, at which point I groan and eventually shout in frustration. I pore over different "How to-" books and magazines, watch DVDs and videos on YouTube, all of which just makes me want to weep as everyone else seems to find it effortless. Beautiful Girl watches this process and decides to help, by presenting me with a better set of instructions.


Plas the string on yor lap
get yor stik
Bgin to croshy
twerl the wul
If that dus not werk tri puling it".

It doesn't do much for my crochet, but does wonders for my mood.

Saturday, 30 January 2010

So this is how it feels to be old....

I went out for dinner with some lovely friends last night. Ate risotto al funghi and panna cotta with a berry compote. Drank a little too much red wine. Felt great last night. Feel rotten this morning. When Lovely Husband and I were younger we would regularly go out at about 5 p.m. on a Friday evening and more or less stay out until Sunday afternoon (with brief pit stops for sleep; no 24-hour bars in the 90's!). I'd pick up a large latte on the way to university or work on the Monday morning and feel right as rain. Last night I had an extra half a glass of wine with dinner and this morning it's taken me a long soak in the bath, a big bowl of fresh fruit and two Nurofen Extra and I still only just feel human. Aging sucks......

Thursday, 28 January 2010

Favourite things #1

Recently I have been listening to Alan Bennett's "The Clothes They Stood Up In" on Radio 4's Listen Again service. I love Alan Bennett. Hearing him read his own stories aloud is...well, I can't find an adjective that describes how quirkily cosy it is, suffice to say, it's a wonderful experience. On its own, it makes cleaning out the fridge bearable. Combine it with a pot of tea and a little gentle knitting though - well, then you might just have found a taste of heaven.


This morning, as I was distractedly handing Beautiful Girl her tights, before she had put her pants on:

"Mummy - I am NOT a superhero!"

Wednesday, 27 January 2010

Ignore it and it might go away.

Domestic disorder reigns. Piles of laundry are waiting to go in the machine and yet more piles are waiting to be put away. The kitchen floor is in desperate need of a wash and toys cover the living room. I decide to ignore it all and bake flapjacks. While they are baking I manage to clear the dining table and when Beautiful Girl gets home from school she sits at the table to practise her spellings with a glass of milk and a still-slightly-warm flapjack. For about seven minutes I feel Calm, Competent and In Control. Shame it doesn't last..........