Made in (shhh!!!) acrylic. This is James C Brett's Marble.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
When did we become old?
My best friend (of 43 years - we met at infant school) and I get together regularly and chat, ok, gossip. We take an evening class together on Monday evenings (strangely enough) and usually talk and text through the week.
K's the only person exactly my age I'm still this close to, a bit like being a twin, separated by only 6 weeks. So, it's a bit like holding up a mirror to myself. I see my fashion choices, grey hairs, wrinkles and opinions refected back at me. Usually.
Recently, however, K has taken to complaining. About her partner, Revenue and Customs, service in restaurants, anything and everything.
This week alone, her partner wore a sweatshirt when he took her out to dinner at a pub - it was 'inappropriate'; the waiter had Doc Marten boots on with red laces and bad tattoos; the waiter leaned across her to pick up empty plates; in the building society, service has gone to hell - 'The teller was wearing Ugg boots with her uniform!", another teller had a 'hermaphrodite' haircut. Gentle questioning reveals this to be an assymetric bob, cropped at one side and long on the other.
I murmer, sympathetically, whilst trying to remain the voice of reason. 'It was a pub, not the Ivy.' 'I wear Ugg boots, they keep my feet warm.' Nothing placates her.
Do I do this? I hope not. When did we become our grandmothers?
K's the only person exactly my age I'm still this close to, a bit like being a twin, separated by only 6 weeks. So, it's a bit like holding up a mirror to myself. I see my fashion choices, grey hairs, wrinkles and opinions refected back at me. Usually.
Recently, however, K has taken to complaining. About her partner, Revenue and Customs, service in restaurants, anything and everything.
This week alone, her partner wore a sweatshirt when he took her out to dinner at a pub - it was 'inappropriate'; the waiter had Doc Marten boots on with red laces and bad tattoos; the waiter leaned across her to pick up empty plates; in the building society, service has gone to hell - 'The teller was wearing Ugg boots with her uniform!", another teller had a 'hermaphrodite' haircut. Gentle questioning reveals this to be an assymetric bob, cropped at one side and long on the other.
I murmer, sympathetically, whilst trying to remain the voice of reason. 'It was a pub, not the Ivy.' 'I wear Ugg boots, they keep my feet warm.' Nothing placates her.
Do I do this? I hope not. When did we become our grandmothers?
Monday, February 21, 2011
Finished object update: Nuss
I finished my Nuss cardigan in the Kingcraig silk/merino aran.
The neck isn't a brilliant fit, to be honest. It's a bit low and wide at the shoulders and as I hardly have any now, it tends to slide off a bit. I can't face altering it, though.
The neck isn't a brilliant fit, to be honest. It's a bit low and wide at the shoulders and as I hardly have any now, it tends to slide off a bit. I can't face altering it, though.
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
Created a monster
J has turned into a gym Nazi!
Got home from work yesterday at 6pm. Felt a bit under the weather, to be honest and he's standing there in his tracksuit, water bottle in hand... 'Well, come on then! We said we'd fit a mid-week workout in!'
So, off we went, me dragging my feet in their trainers and muttering under my breath - you know what's coming, don't you? - and I actually felt quite good afterwards.
Maybe my own Mr Motivator in his Marky's sweatpants and Pixies T shirt (no lycra, thank you very much) was all I ever needed
Got home from work yesterday at 6pm. Felt a bit under the weather, to be honest and he's standing there in his tracksuit, water bottle in hand... 'Well, come on then! We said we'd fit a mid-week workout in!'
So, off we went, me dragging my feet in their trainers and muttering under my breath - you know what's coming, don't you? - and I actually felt quite good afterwards.
Maybe my own Mr Motivator in his Marky's sweatpants and Pixies T shirt (no lycra, thank you very much) was all I ever needed
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