I'm sitting here in a fug of Chanel No. 5 (Yes, I do smell entirely yummy, and I intend to have a Monroe-esque experiment tonight), to wish you a Merry Christmas.

And I do hope your Midnight Mass was less disappointing than ours.  We went to a new church, and they'd changed the words to every single carol (it was a book called 'hymns for modern churches'), so the Shepherds in Silent Night did not quake, they quailed.... and there was a distinct lack of 'ye's and even 'Once in Royal' had been altered in the last verse.  The vicar invited us to stand for each carol (as opposed to, us, say, rolling around in the aisles, or perhaps dancing on the padded seats), and there were heaps of asides.  We do not need to be told, if given chapter and verse, what page of the Bible to look on, to follow the reading.  In a printed service leaflet, it is not necessary to tell us to go to page 10, if we were on page nine.  The vicar was alternately condescending and snide, the music was abysmal (I've been to five different churches, regularly, in my life, and not come across music which was quite so bad before, so I don't think that my previous churches were out of the ordinary).  Next year we'll find somewhere that uses Hymns Ancient and Modern.  You know where you are with that.  Or maybe ye know....   Even my Mother admitted that it was somewhat strange.

I am, however, profoundly grateful that this year, when we got to 'The Peace', Mum and Dad joined in happily.  Life is good.

And I was phoned from Geneva today.  Which makes me all-over-smiles (and sucks to anyone who tells me not to dream, hope, and enjoy).

xxx

Phew....

9.30 AM.  Yarn from BB and Jelly, the sheep, who reside in Fairport, Connecticut.  Bought while with Jennifer.

10.30 AM.  Approx three inches of 2x2 rib

11.30 AM  Intarsia (never again in the round)

12.15 PM  Just look at those ends.  It's like a squid.

12.30 PM Most ends now tidied up.  I can get dressed now.

Phew....  I'll make the bobble on the train, and finish off tidying up the ends as well.  Jeepers, but haven't I got enormous eyes in the penultimate picture?  I also look about six years old.  Sheesh.

xxx

Yes, occasionally.   First up, Lewi in his Christmas Scarf.  Seconds before snuggling into it like a small furry animal (and yes, with all that facial hair, he is a furry animal).  It's a mistake rib scarf, based on the one in Last Minute Knitted Gifts.  There's a lot of them about, because they're so easy, and they get finished so quickly.

Next we have the Christmas Scarf for my Anthropologist, still on the needles in the photo, but now safely in Geneva, waiting for him to open it tomorrow.  This is the Balloon Scarf from Scarf Style.  I think I did eight repeats, each is 44 rows long, and 60 stitches wide.  So, about 22,000 stitches... but he's special, and deserves something gorgeous, and it was worth it.  Very satisfying pattern to knit.  It blocked out better, but I entirely failed to take a photograph of it while it was blocking (this was the zeitgeist for much of the Christmas Knitting.  Failure to take photographs once blocked).

And then I had a stitch and bitch last weekend.  Each photo has a title.  Enjoy.

However, my Daddy's just posted me a Christmas Tree.  Plugs into my USB, changes colours.

Life is much better now.

xxx

I defrosted my freezer last night, a job which was several months overdue: a statement that is merely underlined by the fact that the ice was inches thick in parts.  It took me about three hours, on and off, with lots of boiling water (approximately five kettles' worth), two washing up bowls (one for the hot water, one to catch the drips), four towels (I wasn't too good at the catching), the hairdryer, and a paint scraper.

I had great fun.  What with the flying ice shooting across the kitchen and ricocheting off the oven.  The sleepingbag-and-blanket combination wrapped round the frozen contents of the freezer.  The jettisoning of various items which have been in said freezer for as long as I've lived in the flat (and some items which have been part of my frozen arsenal since before I moved in), some of which were entirely unidentifiable, but still impossible to prise from the tubs.  The hacking away with the ice-pick paint scraper.  The melodic sound of ice falling through the wire shelves.  The pouring of scalding water onto the ice.  The scalding of self with said water, which naturally coincided with my supper being ready (and, yes, that was a tub that had been in the freezer since the year dot.  It contained beef stew, and it was really tough beef too).  Melting the ice off using the hairdryer, held at a safe distance.

I didn't mean to defrost the freezer last night.  It just sort of happened: the top compartment's doorlet refused to shut, and fell onto the floor instead.  Enough was, it seems, enough.  I cracked.  I got on with it.  And I managed to mop up the coffee stain that's been hidden just under the door for the past month and a half while I was at it.   Never let it be said that I am not a conscientious housekeeper.  I've also de-moulded the bathroom recently.  I must hoover the windows again.

Naturally, when I checked this morning, the damn freezer had already started to frost up again.

xxx