Except that the noise and the fine film of dust is torturous. So much so that I'm willing to leave the keys with whichever bunch of grunts I hired two hours earlier and just escape. And so earlier this week (on the pretext of discussing flooring) I went to our local department store... and ended up in the wool department.
This makes me a total flake. I have two unfinished baby jumpers on the go and a box full of yarn remnants, but an offer on wool cotton in the softest unisex shades was more than my ditzy temperament could resist. I immediately cast on 250 stitches and started striping, and suddenly there's a massive project on my hands - a garter stitch baby blanket of one-row stripes and unimaginable tedium. It will (if it ever gets finished) be seriously beautiful. But any 'design' (if I can be bumptious enough to call stripes that) I've come up with myself has always ended up unfinished in the bottom of a bag. So I'm not holding my breath.
And here's the thing, we're not even getting new flooring.
Another thing I'm being a drip about it books. These is my words; the diary of Sarah Agnes Prine by Nancy Turner is our bookgroup choice for this month, and I'm finding it hard going. I can tell that it's an important historical book and, being a real young woman's diary, it's very easy to read. But it's a pretty grim diary of American pioneer travelling life in the 1880s, with all the death, disease and violence that entails. It's hard to keep going, and it's a looooong book. So when the meeting this friday night got postponed due to the hostess' unwelcome kidney stone, I have to admit, there was just a tiny grain of relief at the back of my conscious brain; phew, I don't have to struggle on with that book by the weekend.
I KNOW, my buddy has a kidney stone, it's unforgivable! I promise to rectify my karma and offer to go round and do her ironing or something.