Well, it’s a return to plague house conditions here, that’s for sure. I referred to the condition of Destructoboy and myself as Mucusfest – and really, that’s very apt.
We are not nice to be around at present, what with the coughing and the trails of tissues and the assorted leaks and swearing (from me) and complaints (from Destructoboy). I have the attractive pink-eyed and -nosed look of a rabbit with myxomatosis and the IQ to match. I can’t get through a whole senten…. Sorry? What were we saying? Oh, that’s right, how I can’t get through a whole sentence without being…something. Or other. Sorry, my train of thought just de-railed. Again.
So we’re a plague house and not taking it very well either. Princess swanned off to a Party Day at Vacation care in the Accountant’s car while those of us left behind snuffled and coughed. I really think she’s getting the best of it. Being sick tends to make me cranky. And grumpy. And more untidy than usual.
Luckily, I had a visit last night to cheer me up. The lovely, but blogless, Jill dropped in and we discussed nice adult things like knitting, and patterns and the Divine Norah (Gaughan). She was also there when my Rowan 44 finally appeared, nearly a month after everyone else’s. I am not sure whether it is the original or the replacement sent by Rowan – but it is certainly lovely.
Apart from a small amount of yarn acquired from a fellow Raveller’s de-stash, I haven’t bought any yarn for a whole 2 weeks. I think this may be some kind of record. Or it may be prompted by the dire state of my yarn budget. Or the fact that I’m saving up to do a big order in a few weeks. After all, I’m hardly deprived. I have the odd skein to keep me busy.
In knitting news, the end of Flair is in sight, and I have decided to frog Wicked. I adore the green Malabrigo, but the shape is unflattering for me. So it will become something else – hurrah for seamless top-down construction, which should make it easy to unravel.
Work is going well and I am thoroughly enjoying it (especially seeing my first proper story in print). There’s another week of school holidays to go. My survival is possible – though not assured!