odi et amo

Well, when there's nothing interesting to blog about there's always poetry. Here is the extraordinary piece by Catullus known as "poem 85":

odi et amo. quare id faciam fortasse requiris.
nescio, sed fieri sentio, et excrucior.

"I love and I hate. How can that be, perhaps you ask. I do not know, but I feel it happening and I am in torment". At least, I think that's how it translates.

This poem really sums up how I feel at the moment, but not because of any romantic problems!

Never mind, at least I've been having fun hooking (a curly whirly in acid green, cyclamen and a riotuous multi-colour from 21st century yarns), there's a KTog tomorrow night and SkipNorth is less than a fortnight away. And, in a bid to unwind, I'm making a point of changing out of my suit as soon as I get home each night.

chop, chop...

Anyone remember that advert from the early 80s (might have been for British Telecom) that featured loads of paneguins and the following mantra repeated over and again:

chop chop busy busy work work bang bang, chop chop busy busy work work bang bang, chop chop busy busy work work bang bang...

Life's been feeling rather like that recently I'm afraid,and I don't suppose thta it would be of remote interest to anyone else, hence the lack of posts.

But things are looking up. There was a great KTog last Tuesday and on Sunday I went to Textiles in Focus, to take a turn on Liz's stall and to indulge in retail therapy with Gill (That naughty Silkwood sock yarn in Spangles told me that I needed it. Who was I to disagree?). And I've a day off today, most of which has been spent alternating between snoozing and knitting. And my lovely neighbour Rosie Jennings (reflexologist extraordinaire) celebrated her birthday yesterday, so we're off to our local for a celebration this evening.

Oh, and soon it will be SkipNorth: yay!

Secret Pals revealed

SP 10 has finished (well, officially at any rate, but a parcel I sent in early Jnauary still hasn't made it to the States). I've had tremendous fun spoiling Tracey and I've been well and truly spoiled by Shelly. Thanks to both of you!

Otherwise I've been working, working, sleeping, working ... so I can't wait for Tuesday's Ktog: Granta Bar, University Centre, Granta Place, off Mill Lane, 7-9pm

the joys of missing the bus...

Yay! Back again after some sort of blip in Tiscali's service. Have been itching to blog since Wednesday morning, when I missed the 7.40am bus (this is unheard of for me, but my sleep had been mightily disturbed by unearthly noises!). Even though (oh, the horror) my watch read 7.38 as I flew the house, I *convinced* myself I'd make it. (After all, the thing is rarely on time).

The stop was suspciously devoid of people when I got there, so I decided to read. But, as I pulled my novel from my bag, I was aware of swift movement in the field opposite. Two animals, long, low-down in the grass, rusty pelts, dark tips to their tails; chasing each other round and round and round. Yes, the night-time catawaulers: a pair of foxes a-courting. One soon loped off, but the other remained, obscured by a stand of tall grass (hope it wasn't dining on the resident barn owl!). When I got on the 8 o'clock bus I saw friends I'd not seem for ages (bonus!) and they soon spotted the fox, too.

NB. Eagle-eyed readers will note that there has been sweet FA in the way of knitting/crochet content of late. This, alas, reflects a dose of RSI caused by peeling price stickers off and the wretched post-viral Blahs. Boo!