I went for a drive, in a freshly washed, hoovered and dusted car.
We are old friends now, the car and I. Sixteen years we have spent together, tootling over hill and dale.
I spoke gently to her on the way.
Be a good girl and do all the things the nice man asks you to do.
She did and here is the evidence:
My car sitting aloft
Twenty five minutes later we back on the road smiling like two Cheshire cats! Adventure here we come!!
I have spent a good half hour trying to decide what to wear today. Nothing fancy as the day will be spent cooking, preparing food for a party, ironing, cleaning windows and dancing with the vacuum & duster. All these activities will be interspersed with resting periods of crochet.
So I am looking for something suitable to don and flounce about in while I work. You know, work clothes. Fresh & clean, not worried about little spillages, yet smart enough if an unexpected Toyboy should land on my doorstep! No way do I want to spoil my image!!
I have so little to choose from these days and it is all my own fault:
Hanger sculpture
This hanger sculpture is actual evidence of a recent brutal clear out of my wardrobes. All sorted, cleaned and gone to charity or for recycling. The only problem is that I forgot to keep an outfit or two for mucky housework!
I suppose if I am stuck, I could always wear my pyjamas turned inside out!!
How many times have you asked that question?
You know, your hands are wet and the towel is not on the hook where it normally resides.
‘SOMEBODY’ moved it. Grrrr!
Often the answer absently wings its way back to you: Which one?
Let it be beige, blue, pink or yellow but never bring a white one with the yellow stripe.
A pair of white towels with a deep egg yolk yellow stripe loving lives in the airing cupboard and are only for looking at. They are delicate and have a long story. History.
Towels from Cawnpore, India
Now, to you they might look like old rags. No. They are ‘Anti –queues’ and not faded!
Really.
As I said in a previous post about shapely legs… ‘They were purchased as a gift before I was even a gleam in my father’s eye. A gift for a woman. A woman I never had the opportunity to meet. The fact that she loved, used and cared for them, was enough for me. They may be my treasure at the moment, but I am really a temporary guardian until the day when I pass them on to the next generation.’
The next generation in this case is my Elly.
I have used them many years ago.
After Elly’s first dip in the baby bath, I loving wrapped her in one of these towels and handed her to her dad. It was long before the days of instant cameras & mobile phones with the option of delivering photos round the world as soon as you click. Never mind, I have the memory stored in my head… just as well, my Elly is way to big for wrapping in one of those towels these days. 😉
Muir Mills Logo
Jack bought the towels in India, when he was serving there in World War 2 and posted them home to his mother. It was before being moved on to Burma and the injury that ended his war.
Right, it is your turn now. What everyday object or item in your house has a long history or story behind it?
I fell in love with the colour of some yarn, looking longingly at it week after week in Parlour yarns. I lifted it down to enjoy it more closely… the feel of the yarn told me it was just created to keep my neck warm in the winter.
It was randomly hand dyed by Lindsay from Dye Candy in Randalstown, County Antrim. The jade green really sold it to me. I have not kept the ball band, and for the life of me cannot remember the details of weight, colour and needle size. I suppose it might be because I am not necessarily a strict pattern follower. I break the rules, changing the needle size to suit my mood and stitch pattern that invades my mind at any particular time.
One skein was enough to complete the scarf in ladder stitch, working crosswise.
Ladder stitch scarf
Sorry that photo looks a little blurry, not sure if my hand was shaky or my eyes are tired.
Uh–oh! I spy the t-shirt that I spent a full day searching the house for last week. I have a feeling the missing pink bra might be hidden underneath it.
Phew! I am not going mad after all.