The above, in case you were wondering, is a picture of the view of the Super Moon from the Lake District. the bits at the bottom are a road sign and a street lamp.
Just to begin by relieving some of the anguished knitting-related tension I will let you know straight away that I have not yet decided upon a resolution for my knitting difficulty, and when I came to work tonight I deliberately left the bag on the kitchen table so that I would not have to think about it.
The reason for this is that I think there are already enough worrying things in the world and hence I am not going to add to my own personal list by becoming anxious about my knitting. It can stay there until I feel sufficiently tranquil of mind to approach it with a peaceful spirit.
I am not terribly tranquil of mind at the moment, this is because I am sitting on the taxi rank trying to earn enough money to go to Asda tomorrow. So far I haven’t, at least, not if I am planning to purchase any more than tea and sausages. Depressingly it is almost eleven o’clock as I write these words, and actually I haven’t even earned enough to do that yet.
I don’t exactly mind this, because I have had such a pleasantly peaceful evening on the taxi rank, undisturbed by tiresome people interrupting me and wanting to go somewhere else.
I have been reading my book, which is a horrifying account of the squabbling that went on between Gordon Brown and Tony Blair, and which is making me alternately astounded and troubled. I had no idea that it was possible for people who would seem to have such pronounced dysfunction to dress themselves capably, never mind run the country, but obviously they managed it, more or less, which is probably ultimately a hopeful thing, clearly it can’t be all that difficult after all.
In between reading my book I have bought a tea strainer on eBay and written to Lucy, who will be sixteen tomorrow. I have remembered to send her a birthday card, which I felt was an achievement, and feel a bit sad that we won’t see her. I only feel a bit sad, because I know perfectly well that she will have a squeaky, giggly birthday with all of her friends, who will be far more exciting companions than we could hope to be. I know, because she has mentioned it, that when it comes to having social accomplishments, we are old and dull.
I do not feel especially old and dull. I have had a very happy day today making chocolate biscuits and restoring order to our house after the weekend. This has mostly involved washing but also collecting endless bits of chewed stick that Roger Poopy has distributed liberally throughout the house. We made the mistake of leaving a log in the hearth when we went to work on Sunday, which he transformed into a million splinters and spread about the living room. We had turned all of the lights off and closed the curtains, in the hope that he would believe it to be bedtime and go to sleep, which he didn’t.
Today I tidied up and posted letters and baked. I baked bread rolls in the marvellous breadmaker, and chocolate biscuits for picnics. Number One Daughter telephoned to describe a terrible hangover, with which I sympathised wholeheartedly, and she laughed when I told her about our similar misadventures, explaining the difficulty of trying to detox when cognac is a major ingredient of almost everything, including things like the chocolate biscuits and also the apple jam. I have just discovered a bread recipe for the breadmaker in which it features, watch this space.
We are at work now. We caught a fleeting glimpse of the super moon as the clouds parted for a second or two, but disappointingly it looked exactly the same as it usually does. If you didn’t manage to see it then please be reassured that you have not missed a great once-in-a-lifetime spectacle.
It just looked pretty much like the moon.
