Monday 12 January 2009

A Thoughtful Spot

That is really what we all need, isn't it?

And sometimes we go to that place (albeit not quite as idyllic as Pooh's) and we think we might blog and communicate with the outside world; and then the circus music starts. And we get distracted with little piddly things such as: 'Should that picture be hung on the wall 2.7 more inches to the right?' or 'The kitty is outside, so maybe I should vacuum.' or 'Oooh! Just a Minute is on (or Top Gear, or Oz and James Drink to Britain or a CSI marathon -- despite the fact that I have seen them all --) and I need to finish these fingerless gloves with the mitten flap I am attempting to knit.' or 'Why is that Robert Mugabe still thieving oxygen -- and why does nobody seem to care about anything other than the intensely personal fact that they might have to cut down to only 2 new pair of shoes per month due to the recession?' (Do not expect sympathy from me when you still have central heat, do not work in a sweatshop in Manchester and haven't been sold to the highest bidder. I do sympathise when your bank attempts to take your house from you for the sake of two late payments after your husband leaves you with two kids when his business fails -- and you have worked for said bank for 17 years, never being late with payment before now... -- I am sorry to have lost electronic evidence of this story)

And the best laid plans, you know...


Now, in my Thoughtful Spot, thinking does actually occur (I don't just sit there tapping my head, repeating 'Think. Think, think. Think, think, think.). Usually this thinking is misanthropic (as demonstrated briefly above) or mockingly comical (or would that be comically mocking?); but it is generally amusing to myself and those who might happen to be in my immediate vicinity -- friends and acquaintances, I mean. NFN hasn't rubbed off to the point that I yap at random people I meet in Roy's. Yet.

But some things that make one think are:

Like, totally, why do cats always smell like haybarns? (this is a cosy smell, in case you did not grow up in a barn.)
Why is Facebook so addictive? (Or, why am I so darned nosy?)
Where does time go? (probably here)
Can one really go to too many auctions? (The correct answer is: NO!)
When can I be Martha Stewart?
It is impossible to have a) too much ginger or b) too much garlic (although not often together).

In other Norwich news (yah... I have not given proper newsy updates -- people should scold me more often):
1. The International Office at UEA is moving this week. This is all very exciting and dust-creating; it is also after the building we are currently in has begun to be tarted up from 1960s Cold War bunker-style and colour scheme. I have been mostly packed since yesterday, because I am batty. My influence has exerted power and caused others to talk in funny voices (or squeak like meese, whilst holding a computer mouse).
2. The January First Friday Five was entertaining (despite the foray into a pub newly acquired by the karaoke-ing lesbain couple), and Sally came along for her first CAMRA experience. I forgot to take any pictures -- sigh. However, the pubs weren't overly memorable. We are unsure if Sally will repeat her venture.
3. My knitting in public may be a topic in the review in the next Norfolk Nips. I am knitting Dave the Train a sock...(it is a long story).
4. Suspicions exist that Angus (the kitteh) belongs to the unfortunate people next door. Moral query: If we feed him better, since he keeps sitting on our window and taking his space on the bed -- does that actually constitute stealing or catnapping. Kitties do have choices, right? He still has no collar from any other peoples, but we (translate, The Cat Lady) may put one on asking if kitteh belongs to __?__.
Kitteh likes the spot on the bathroom floor where the heating pipes run underneath. He also likes the mat next to his food bowl. And the under-the-stairs closet. And the hand-knitted throw. And the polka dotted chair. And laps.
When he sits on the stairs or on the roof breast in the dark or under furniture, he is invisible unless he opens his eyes.
5. As mentioned above, there is work to be done on the fingerless mittens (which are supposed to look like this) and my obstacle at the moment is figuring out how to do the flap.
6. This past Thursday was my first time back at knitting since before Thanksgiving, and it was a good time (although Clare the knitter was missing -- I must organise a pub-knit. Clare, the Irish was there, and although she didn't knit, she had an outstanding time.).
7. Photos of Le Wedding de Bonnie Blue are up (in various places, such as here and Facebook), and they are wonderful to have, because I don't remember parts of it -- like ringing a bell.



Since 7 is the number of completion (or perfection, depending on your numerological semantics), this is a good place to stop. And to go and look for some more Ronaldo's ginger ice cream...

1 comment:

erasmus (aka jiva) said...

Doh! named and shamed. I will be hopefully coming to knitting club this week but I've got a leaving party for a work colleague first so I may already be drunk. That will be entertaining knitting!