Sometimes my life develops a wee theme....
I mentioned a week or so ago that I've joined a letter-writing challenge over at A bun can dance and I can't wait to send and receive some intriguing correspondence. My partner in correspondence and I have opted for a theme of 'getting to know you'. It sounded easy when I agreed to it - not so easy when I'm trying to think what to say.
I've been on a web-wander and come across Today I Saw where Jill Wignall sends a drawing of well, something she saw to someone who could be anyone. I love blogs that have a singular purpose and theme. I fear projectforty has become something of a rambling rose and one that is never pruned as it flits about from subject to subject, never really 'sticking'. At least I know I'm writing as I am.
I also came across Letters of Note, photographs and transcripts of letters written to all sorts of people. I've been reading a biography of Frida Kahlo this week (one of my latest obsessions) and there is a letter she sent to her husband from her hospital bed, telling how much she loves him. The letter brings that moment to life.
Like everyone else, I spend hours of my day hunched over a laptop, tip-tapping away, and the results of my efforts sit inside shiny boxes or etched into shiny disks and memory sticks. I don't know if it's the knitting or the stitching but I long for something physical in my writing, something permanent, something with a surface and some marks.
On the knitting front, I ran my usual group yesterday and marvelled how much its members have progressed since we started about a year ago. H is now producing cardigans and lace boottees for her soon-to-be born baby and M has a talent for producing well-made, stitch perfect items for her daughter. I love Friday mornings and the focus it provides, just knitting and showing others. Simple but effective.
Anyway...on a slightly different matter, it's J's 12th birthday today so I have 2 recycled shopping bags stuffed with e-numbers and sugar. He will have played football in four different locations by tomorrow lunchtime. He's having a footie 'do' as well. There was a bit of sibling kerfuffle last night resulting in early bed and much wailing from both parties. I dreaded a silent, sulky breakfast but it all seems to have been forgetten. Phew.
And...on another...very depressing matter - we now only have three chickens. Mrs Broody went peculiar on Thursday, looking quite poorly but out in the run. By Friday morning she had ceased to be. Very peculiar and most distressing. She's gone to the chicken run in the sky, poor thing. Am on cluck-watch now with the others. I hope whatever it was wasn't catching.
So as not to end on a morbid note....any suggestions for what to do with some pretty but insignifcant vintage children's books? They look very lovely on the shelf but they're not very useful. I would quite loke to make some kind of collage or something but haven't got enough brain power to consider it for long. Have a think. I know you'll have ideas.