Sewing and reading

I have done quite a bit of sewing over the past few days, and reading.
My list of jobs gets shorter, and then longer again. As I do things that are on my list, so I can remove them, and then mentally add other things onto the list.
Now I'm starting to decide what to get for Xmas for people. I need to organise some of the presents, and then it hits me that I won't be able to do so much in a few weeks. I can't imagine having my leg in plaster, but I know I will have, and it will be for at leats 6 weeks. One thing that keeps nagging at me is the fact I will have to reorganise where my computer is, as there is no way I will be able to sit here.
But, for now I can move around fairly well, although if I sit still for a while, moving is tricky, as my foot has started to go numb.
Perhaps they should just take me out and shoot me. (Not really.)

Sorry.

I haven't put much on here lately, cos there's not an awful lot happening right now.
What with being off work, and unable to walk about that much. If I think something needs doing, I find myself thinking twice, about whether I actually do need to do whatever it is. And nine times out of ten, I have decided "no, not necessary" if it means going out somewhere. I hate being this tied. I used to walk everywhere I could with the dogs, loved riding my cycle. Loved walking on the beach with the dogs. Now they are lucky if I walk further than around the block with them.
I have been sewing and reading a lot again this week. I've made Edwin a pair of PJs, they don't match, but are warm, and that is all that matters to him.

Comments

I'm not wondering about mine. A couple of times I have put a comment on my friend, Blue's, blog, and when I looked later, despite the doodah saying it was going for moderation, it hasn't appeared. I hadn't put anything that would make it unsuitable for publication, so I can only surmise that my pop-up blocker is being over zealous.
But sometimes I wonder about things like that. You trust things to the ether, or in hard copy, you pop a letter in the post, and then it's completely out of your hands.
Although I haven't experienced it, the post very rarely goes astray.
One year all of one of my cousin's sent xmas cards never reached their destination. She claimed compensation.
That is what I miss, letters in the post, proper letters, not junk mail, or bills, real, letters from people who you know, or don't. They are all fun to have.

A bit different.

As I've been signed off work, and can't recount the daft stuff that happens at work every know and again, I thought I'd share with you this piece of free writing I did. I asked my pal, Blue, for a word, then the idea is you write for 30 minutes. Starting from the given word, you just write, and follow where the word takes you. I thought this one is worth sharing.


Knickers.
They come in all shapes and sizes. If you’ve seen Bridget Jones, (crosses fingers as protection,) you’ll know that some people have different knickers for different occasions. When I saw this I didn’t quite understand it at all, after all, they are there to keep your bum covered up…..but now perhaps I am guilty of having different knickers for different occasions. I do have some that I would never wear to work. I don’t know why, cos there is no chance anyone would see them, unlike the kids. Some of the girls wear hipster trousers, with thongs visible, and why is it always the fat, unattractive ones who probably would crawl under the nearest rock if they knew their thong was visible …why is always their thong that shows?
Yes…I do have a thong, two actually, but they came as part of a “set”, I would not have bought them, and I did wear one of them once…just to see if it was comfortable. They must have been designed by a man, as no right minded woman would subject other women to wearing something akin to a piece of dental floss, and like dental floss….they cut in…if not in the right place. (I found this out in around an hour….then chucked them in the wash.) My daughter has a thong…and when I first saw it….I asked her how far she could throw stones with it.
Nobody wears knickers like the ones my grandma used to wear…bigger than Bridget Jones’ “big knickers”….I remember seeing them on the washing line…so much fabric in them that they needed ironing…pink, flannelette with longish cuffed legs. Even the awful knickers I had to wear as part of the uniform at ghastly Astley weren’t as bad as those, but they were green flannel.with elasticated legs and waist. When we did PE, indoor, if we didn’t have our leotards…we were expected to put on the aertex blouse, and strip to our knickers. It was a girl’s school.so that is what we did. And if you didn’t have the right knickers on, you got detention. Lastly, it used to be a word that you would shout at someone in defiance, but I ain’t heard it for many a year. If you ask my brother about knickers.and to recall a childhood incident, he would say me running around at about age 7 in just a pair of red knickers on the beach one hot summer…..they were shorts..Not knickers…Mum would never have bought us red knickers. Then when at ghastly Astley..There was a song in the charts called “Jump up and down, wave your knickers in the air”. I remember some of the girls in my form climbing out of the form room window and singing and dancing to it as a dare one day.

It's my ankle, honest.

Grr!
I forgot one of my nephew's birthday. He was 25 today, but lately I have been forgetting stuff. I am sure that is just the pain that is making me do it. Before this injury I used to remember birthdays, etc, and people would count on me to remember.
Another thing that annoyed me yesterday was, I went to the market, well drove to a car park and walked the remaining short distance, with both dogs. The trouble is people will pet the dogs without asking if they can. And WHY do they always stand just out of the lead's length, and then when I pull the dog back, cos I am actually buying something at a stall, do they react as if I am "Cruella de Ville's" mentor?
1) They should ask if it is ok to stroke my dogs, for all they know they may not want to be stroked, and 2) if they want to stroke the dog, they should approach it, not the other way around.
One dumb woman nearly had me on my arse as she was encouraging the dogs to go to her, and they had tied their leads around my legs. And SHE had the cheek to tell me off when I told the dogs off for pulling! (shakes head in disbelief)
Next time I go to the market the dogs stay home until I can walk unaided again. I just can't risk further injury to my ankle.

One Pirate costume later

Well, I had the costume ready for Sam well before 9pm, but she is sad, everyone who would normally go with her has returned to Uni. I suppose that is the downside of doing Open University.
Still, I am getting on with the mental list of tasks I set myself. No! I'm nowhere near the end. I made Sam one pirate-y top. I think she likes it, but the pattern is the oddest I have ever used in the whole of my time sewing. I hope she likes it, except the design is basically designed to be twisted! Have enough fabric left to make another top for Sam, and will do.
Did my swim today, 1/2 mile again, and made proper roast tea, and homemade soup for dinner.

Shock, horror!

I think something very odd might be going to happen before long.
Why? I hear you call.
This morning my daughter washed her car!
She washed all the mud from underneath her wheel arches, bet the car will go faster now. The mud was from her visits to Download and Leeds festivals, working.
I got her to leave the stuff out, and washed mine as well, and my neighbour wanted to know why I was washing it, as "it's not even dirty" he said.
It was, it had bird poop on it.
I finished off the skirt I made for Samantha, now I have to work out how to make the top she would like. And if possible, finish it by Tuesday evening, as it's fancy dress at Rock Nite this Tuesday. And Samantha wants to go dressed as a pirate wench.

The things you find out while shopping

I was up early this morning. Took Edwin to school, then went straight through to Morrisons.
I checked my tyre pressures, they seem to be the only place with a functional tyre pressure machine in the local area.
Then I went into the store to get a few things.
Whilst I was looking for an item I met someone I hadn't seen for years. This lady has an adopted Peruvian daughter, her daughter and Oliver were good friends at primary school. It turns out they are both going to be studying at Manchester University for the next four years.
Then we started talking generally, and as her daughter is her youngest, she never saw me after they left primary. But she told me that it was well known that my ex used to bully me and make my life hell. But the reason no-one ever approached me, or offered any type of advice/support was, because I wouldn't talk about it.
I'll be honest, it hurts me still to think about it. I know it shouldn't let it do, but it does.
We talked about ex's, child maintenance, reluctance to pay child maintenance, then got onto them stopping it. (Apparently he can't, not whilst Oliver in full-time education.)
She told me I need to be tough with my ex. To be honest, I think if he knows it is the law, he will do it.
So now, after 6 years, or more, I have found out that people knew how bad my ex was with me, and cos I just got on with things , no-one knew I could have done with support. It is not their fault, it is mine, for marrying my ex in the first place, and then doing my utmost to make it work, even though I could see it was not doing. I had never encountered the "values" he wanted before in my life, and hope I never do again.

I am still here

The last few days have been so busy. I haven't had much time to do this.

The masonry on my house has been painted, around the windows. It looks really nice.

I have been helping Oliver get his things gathered together for Uni.

I've also finished off my mini quilt. Sewn a couple of "Viking hats" in fleece fabric.

Filled the book shelf with books from the boxes in the back room. Been swimming twice,and normal household stuff.

And I've been reading.

I have been keeping myself busy cos I've been signed off work, and it will be until I have had my ankle operation, and recovered, so I'm not looking at short term, probably at least 4 months, maybe 6. So I have not got to let myself get bored.

I have a mental list of jobs I want to get done, and am going to work my way through them. (I don't mean the list is a mad list, just that tizn't written down anywhere.)

I have some fabric I want to make into clothes, it would be nice to sit and knit, and have some wool just waiting to be knitted. Also, I intend to make some more quilts. With a view that in the future I will make bedsized ones. (The picture is of the quilt before I quilted and finished it.)

I hate fireworks!

I know this might seem a strange time of the year to say that, but I do.
I absolutely hate fireworks, they are evil.
I know not everyone thinks the same, and they are welcome to their opinion.
A few years back this weekend would have been "Light and Water" weekend, with the firework display co-ordinated with music, but our council have put a stop to all the festivals in the resort. They used to fund them as they were "crowd pullers", but for some strange reason ours have stopped, whilst the ones in the city, about 3-4 miles away continue. There is a city funded Jazz Festival next weekend , I think.
But I haven't explained why I hate fireworks, probably having a lit banger thrown at me did the trick there.
Also, where I live, they don't wait until bonfire night until they start letting off fireworks, but start around early October, and they startle you if you aren't expecting them.

yawn

Regular service will be resumed as soon as possible.
Desparately tired here.

Busy, busy

I should have remembered this, back after summer hols, you have to hit the ground running at my job. The people who don't plan ahead all want their printing yesterday, then you have the new starters, (teachers,) who need help finding their way around the printers. On top of that, our year 6 open evening, for next September's possible intake is NEXT Wednesday!
So, there's lots to do, and one of the machines decided it was going to print black cats in coal cellars. The engineer came and it took 4 and 1/2 hours to mend it.
And I was given a job on coloured paper, with a white copy, I had to find the pages used out of the book I was given, and copy them all in the right order.
No wonder I felt shattered by going home time came around.

Nervous?

Am writing this before I go to work, cos by the time I have finished tonight I know I will be too tired to do anything.
I know I can't stand all day, and will be exhausted by the time it is time to come home. My ankle is hurting already, and I'm sat here crying. I hate not being able to do what I should be able to do easily.
I might write some more when I come home. Although I think I will go straight to bed after tea.

Last day of the holidays

This was an unexpected day.
I had other plans, won't discuss here, but I ended up having this day extra to do things I was going to put off until weekend.
So after a swim, and walking the dogs. Edwin and I went into Lancaster.
The school uniform includes a blazer, as from tomorrow. As Edwin never wore his sweatshirt, I wasn't going to bother, and he wasn't bothered. We had decided that if he ever needs a blazer for school we were going to buy a plain one, and not one of the ones provided by the school supplier. The simple reason being, there is no way he would wear a blazer with the school logo on it anywhere but school, whereas one without could be worn any time he needs to "dress up".
He also pointed out, as there is a six form dress code in operation now, he would be able to use it for sixth form as well. (So, potential 4 years use at school instead of 2.)
I got wadding for the quilt I am making, two books from the bookshop, and various stationery things.
On the way back I stopped at the discount shop, and got loads of fruit and veg, and other bits we needed.
Made spagheti bolognese for tea, so I gained lots of brownie points today, and now I'm worn out.

Back to school/work on Tuesday.

Well, it's come around. Time to go back to work for me, school for my youngest.
Tuesday morning, I'm back at the normal time, and he's back at 10am, but only for two hours.
Hmm! I wonder if the lads will make tea, seeing as I'm out all day, and they aren't.
No, they won't. Although with Oliver going to Uni in self catering accomodation in couple of weeks, you'd think he'd want to practise cooking.
My daughter and her boyfriend have planned a picnic for today, it's pouring with rain, so she says that they will be picnicing in her car.
There was so much I wanted to do this holiday, but have hardly done any of it, as my ankle injury has stopped me. I'm wondering how I'm going to manage to fit my swimming in, when I return to work. I will do though.

Quiet, little cul-de-sac?

You'd think living in a street with only 11 houses on it, (well, 13 ,but two have been gutted by fire in the past, and are awaiting renovation,) that it would be quiet. You've obviously never lived in Morecambe.
For starters there are more cars than parking spaces, and as I mentioned on a previous blog, for some reason the self employed man has brought a boat up the street to do it up, it's beginning to look good, he's painted it a nice bright red, and just adding a yellow border as I type, either he'll be moving it before long.....or.....he knows the long range weather forecast better than we do.
Last night, I was chatting to my friend in New Orleans on messenger, when a car came flying up the street. Bear in mind here, that there is a stone wall across the end of the street, and last night there was a Ford Transit parked there. The car pulled up, sharply, I looked out of the window to see who's car it was. It didn't belong on the street, but I did recognise it as a car from the row of houses nearby. The driver jumped out , ran down the middle of the road, and disappeared into the alleyway between this street and the next. As I told the Policeman, It definitely WASN'T the person I know to be the owner of the car.
Within minutes a police car came up the street, then a very drunk young man staggered up the street, and a girl, who kept protesting loudly that she had two children and she hadn't been in the car, then another police car appeared.
After about an hour the policeman knocked at my door, and I gave him a statement. The driver of the car had almost knocked two police over, one of them was with the one who took the statement, he was a little shaken.
And that was only Friday night!