Like Dorothy
I feel like I've been plonked down in a weekend after a storm. I went back to work after a fortnight of mostly time off, and the kids went back to school and swimming lessons and ballet and kung fu and cubs (spot the lengthening list and laugh if you are one of the people whom I told I wasn't going to 'do' extensive extra-curricular activities with my kids) and then last night I collected various vehicles and people and dropped them all off again and picked them up again and then it was my turn to go out and possibly it was a good idea that I was driving so I couldn't give in to the temptation to drink lots. Not because my life is going wrong; it's actually going wonderfully, but because I was so tired and shell-shocked from the week that drink seemed a good response.
So I listened to a band called Radius and played a game of working out what instruments they were playing. One of the band members was no help because she said that after mixing up banjos and mandolins so often introducing songs in the past, she now called one song "manjo music", and thereafter made no mention of instruments at all. I thought a lot of her beautiful playing was on a cornet, but upon googling this morning, I realise I am wrong. Still not sure actually, it was like a brass clarinet only higher in pitch.
I found a solution to my ugly home made blue trousers. I bought some red jeans instead, online and made of stretchy denim, so although the jury is still out on how favourite they will become, they at least don't add massive wings onto my hips.
Progress continues on my pink miette cardigan. I've gained confidence knitting with double pointed needles. I think my prior difficulties may have been because I tried to knit on the inside instead of the outside of the circle. Also, this time I'd knitted most of a cardigan, so I had an incentive to carry on and make it work instead of giving up.
I've not read much. A little of the New Zealand Books review and the Guardian Weekly, not enough to comment. And if you count the Resene Habitat magazine, then I've been spending some time on that. I sense that the debate on what colour the dining room should be painted is set to resume. I forget how many years it has been going for. Favourite Handyman has been talking yellow, and I'm talking Resene Quarter Parchment, because apparently it is a warm white without being a cream. At least test pots are cheap. The last shade-of-white test pot I bought to go on the dining room walls, FH and the kids used it up on the tree hut before I'd even opened it. The debate, you might imagine, has a few more rounds to go.
The dining room walls are varnished wood until half way up the walls. Style magazines, such that I've read, would have us paint over it, but we aren't keen. Once we paint over the wood, that distinctiveness is all gone. I'm not looking for fashionable, simply something we will love to live in and which is somehow achieved alongside marital harmony. The varnished wood will likely be fashionable again before we make a decision anyway.
In a splurge of decadence, straight after we've just bought a new-to-us car, I've booked a babysitter for Sunday so we can go listen to The Johnnys up the valley, a long drive from here. Don't ever ask me for sensible planning decisions. I think that means I've blown the money that should have gone to pay my library fines. Might have to go borrow some books from friends instead, book droughts aren't good for me.
So I listened to a band called Radius and played a game of working out what instruments they were playing. One of the band members was no help because she said that after mixing up banjos and mandolins so often introducing songs in the past, she now called one song "manjo music", and thereafter made no mention of instruments at all. I thought a lot of her beautiful playing was on a cornet, but upon googling this morning, I realise I am wrong. Still not sure actually, it was like a brass clarinet only higher in pitch.
I found a solution to my ugly home made blue trousers. I bought some red jeans instead, online and made of stretchy denim, so although the jury is still out on how favourite they will become, they at least don't add massive wings onto my hips.
Progress continues on my pink miette cardigan. I've gained confidence knitting with double pointed needles. I think my prior difficulties may have been because I tried to knit on the inside instead of the outside of the circle. Also, this time I'd knitted most of a cardigan, so I had an incentive to carry on and make it work instead of giving up.
I've not read much. A little of the New Zealand Books review and the Guardian Weekly, not enough to comment. And if you count the Resene Habitat magazine, then I've been spending some time on that. I sense that the debate on what colour the dining room should be painted is set to resume. I forget how many years it has been going for. Favourite Handyman has been talking yellow, and I'm talking Resene Quarter Parchment, because apparently it is a warm white without being a cream. At least test pots are cheap. The last shade-of-white test pot I bought to go on the dining room walls, FH and the kids used it up on the tree hut before I'd even opened it. The debate, you might imagine, has a few more rounds to go.
The dining room walls are varnished wood until half way up the walls. Style magazines, such that I've read, would have us paint over it, but we aren't keen. Once we paint over the wood, that distinctiveness is all gone. I'm not looking for fashionable, simply something we will love to live in and which is somehow achieved alongside marital harmony. The varnished wood will likely be fashionable again before we make a decision anyway.
In a splurge of decadence, straight after we've just bought a new-to-us car, I've booked a babysitter for Sunday so we can go listen to The Johnnys up the valley, a long drive from here. Don't ever ask me for sensible planning decisions. I think that means I've blown the money that should have gone to pay my library fines. Might have to go borrow some books from friends instead, book droughts aren't good for me.
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