My socks came with presents.  Both bars of chocolate have been stunningly wonderful.  I haven't tried the tea yet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And these are my socks.  Aren't they wonderful?    Aren't I lucky?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then this was waiting for me as part of my project spectrum swop.  Also quite, quite wonderful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three Queen's Guides.  Me, Liz, and Ann (who Guides very near where I was a Girl Guide).  Ann is very tall.  Ann's Dad used to be my form tutor, but I only met her when we went round the disused Underground Stations a couple of Januarys ago.

 

 

 

In other news, despite causing total chaos, I appear to be in possession of a job.  I also have a new pair of embroidery scissors, and am about to buy yarn.

xxx

I just leaked a little instead.

Liz received her Queen's Guide Award, on Sunday.   In the Mayor's Parlour, in Colchester - a gorgeous venue, and a very nice 'do'. 

And, then, if it wasn't enough to just stand there and burst with pride at what she's acheived, I also received thanks, and a lovely photo of us together, in Lorne, in a frame (and I can't find that picture on my hard drive either), and it's sat, in pride of place, on my bookshelves now.

And I think I might leak again.

xxx

---

Finally, I have thrown off the hormones causing teary-leakage.  And Liz has the photo for me:

xxx

Stuff what I was going to write about.  Go to the Radio 3 Website; go and find the Listen Again section, chose Wednesday's edition of 'In Tune', and start listening about 2 hours in (just after the 7pm news bulletin).  My friend Lizzie is being interviewed, and singing, and being utterly her.  Which is enthusiastic, and glamourous, and funny, and fantastic.

And I'm terribly, terribly proud of her.  She knocks spots off Charlotte Church, always has done.

Go.  Listen.  Be stunned.  And just imagine how lucky I was to have that voice next to me during assembly at school, and in the school choir, and during music lessons.

xxx

Oh my goodness!  Bidding on Oliver's Stole/Shawl has just hit three figures!

I am astounded, and grateful, and excited, and hopeful.

My faith in humanity is definitely being restored: the past 24 hours have been so very good to me.

xxx

My Daddy has a new car, and this is what he has to say about it (Mum merely informed me it was a Mazda of some description.  LM is Mum - it's short for Little Mummy, she's only 4' 11 1/2")

xxx

---

Well.  It has two wheels at the front and another two
at the back - I suppose that one of them is a spare.
It has two doors each side and another at the back,
which I suppose is there in case one of the others
cannot be used.

It is silver outside and grey inside, apart from the
bits that are black - like the dashboard thingy.

It has lots of buttons to disorganise things like the
radio (and CD Player - got one now!) and Climate
Control.  The young fellow who had LM lying in his lap
while he re-organised the drivers headrest for her
explained the difference between Climate Control and
Air Conditioning, and it boils down to the same thing.

It is called a Mazda6 (deliberate absence of space -
marketing, I suppose) TS Hatchback automatic.  It is a
bit smaller than the SAAB, but not much.

Seems a better ride - after all, with about twenty
years more to practice design they have had time.  It
has Cruise Control on the steering wheel, which is a
waste of effort, but there we are.

It will be called <Dad's personal numberplate> - there's a surprise!

AA wanted a phenominal amount to insure you, but
Zurich seem a bit more sensible, so you should be able
to drive it after we get rid of the Merc.

'sall.

  My sock watched my dancing team in Hastings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 My sock watched Hammersmith Morris Men

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My sock met a giantess.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 My sock met a giant.

 

 

 My sock watched an American guy do a jig.  One of my colleagues used to work with him, but my sock didn't know this and doesn't really care.

 

 

 

 

 

 My sock watched some rapper dancing

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My sock went to Islington

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then my sock saw what's blocking now (commonly known object in picture for scale purposes).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Close up.  I need to try again on something that isn't a towel, and preferably with a camera that has a macro setting or something.  A dark background might well help matters here.

 

 

 

But, you know what?

 

 

 

My sock doesn't have any inferiority complex, despite the fact that it took about two days to knit, and the lacey thingy with all the pins in it has been a work in progress for five or six years now, possibly more.

 

 

Because my sock's part of a pair. 

 

xxx

(my apols for the rubbish alignment.  Photos are not my strong point.  Unblocking blocked up dishwashers I'm better at.  But oh, my dears, the smell.  Not nice.).