we survived

It’s a miracle that we’re both still alive and on speaking terms. Though I remember having the exact same thought the day after returning from my honeymoon, this time I’m talking about my progeny and I.

I’ve always suspected that I’m not an easy person to be cooped up with for too long, and I’m crashingly awful at being ill, so the combination ain’t pretty. But The Boss has stoically endured a whole week of my “groaning-on-sofa-under-blanket” parenting, with the notable absence of both her father and a telly. Amazingly, she seems very capable of (largely) looking after herself, and has proven that boredom is the true mother of invention, making pop-up books, chick nests and tangled webs of “knitting”, all without supervision.

I’m not very good at sympathy – I do feel it for others, I just can’t seem to rearrange my facial features or words into the appropriate shapes – so I really don't ever expect any in return. Suffice to say that since last week’s Yarn Along post, I’ve progressed from (evidently!) delirious high fever, to the vile sneezy streaming (the kind that just got me a seat to myself on a crowded bus), stopping in at whey-faced inert lethargy for Easter.

At some ill-defined point over the loooong Easter weekend, I realised that having paper airplanes thrown at my semi-conscious head by a child standing on the dining table, was newspaper cartoon strip fodder… at best (or pure neglect at worst). So I roused myself and tried to teach the girl how to do French knitting (or knitting nancy as my Mum calls it).

Luckily for me, it seems slightly beyond the dexterity of a five year old. I say luckily because I was immediately hooked. The only yarns I have just now are odds and sods from a previous project, so I can’t cast on anything new, but I can enjoy the brainless monotony and instant gratification that the Nancy brings.

I don’t know what this long snake is destined to be… I thought it might make a nice edging for a future hat or small person garment, but I don’t know if the tension works out well for that sort of thing. (Does anyone know? Would it wash okay attached to the edge of a sweater made in the same yarn?)

Regardless, for now it’s therapy.

I’m still reading The Blue Afternoon by William Boyd, and I think it is totally fabulous. I’m enjoying it so much that I’m reading it really slowly so-as not to miss anything. For a girl with my background, this book has everything going for it: architecture, medicine, South East Asia. Love it love it love it.