As Mr Caught Knitting and I strolled through the grounds of King's College yesterday, I was rather surprised to see a tall, casually dressed young lady, with distinctive strawberry blonde tresses, walking out of a door. Surprised because I though it was Graham's daughter, who now lives in London. I thought maybe she was back in town to see her PhD supervisor, but he's at a different college. As we got closer I realised that my middle-aged eyesight had let me down again. This girl's hair was darker and curlier than Laura's. But once we'd passed the young woman in question, Graham nudged me in the ribs and whispered: "Did you see her? Did you see her?".
By this stage I was quite confused. Surely, if it had been Laura, father and daughter would have greeted each other? Of course not! It turns out that the person whom I'd mistaken for my stepdaughter was, in fact, supermodel (and Cambridge student) Lily Cole...
There was a further case of mistaken identity this afternoon, when I answered a lound knock at the door. There stood the window cleaner, who said "Oh, I didn't think it would be you, I was expecting your father." Again, I was somewhat confused, as Pa lives some 40 miles away. And then the penny dropped. Well, honestly, I know that Mr Caught Knitting is a good 19+ years older than me, but really! As Mr CK himself says, was the window cleaner trying to flatter me, or insult him? Hmm.
Meanwhile, on matters crafty, I'm suffering from major impatience. I hand-painted a large batch of yarn (17 x 100g skeins) on Wedenesday and they're still not dry. Having had a major run on my sea anemone pots (I've sold 14 in the last fortnight and the handpainted ones are currently outselling the ones in Twilleys Freedom Spirit) I'm eager to make more. I've also had one of those strange moments when you realise that something in your life has come round full circle. Last month I designed and crocheted a batch of berets, using Patons Shadow Tweed (which has some scrumptious colours). Last week I sold two of them via the local Country Market (the markets formerly known as WI Markets). Acouple of days later I had a vivid flashback to being 12 years old, in town, shopping with Dad. There on the Saturday Market Place was a new, and fascinating, stall full of homemade things. The lady on the stall explained that this was the "WI Market" and that they usually just had a stall on the Tuesday Market.I was utterly smitten and dug deep into my pocket money to buy myself some flapjack and a gorgeous crocheted beret!
Enough reminiscing, I'm off to work on a knitscape (I'll reveal more about those in a future post).