(why is it that if I use the uploader while I'm writing, I lose my post?)

The Quilt.  My first quilt.  Which isn't quilted as the pattern didn't call for it.  Ahem.  Kudos to OHP for  picking the colours, she did much better than I ever could!

The water from the torrential rain last week - coming through the kitchen ceiling.

Hats at Ascot (click to embiggen)

Jason Donovan after Priscilla Queen of the Desert

So lovely.  I said that "That was brilliant, and so was Rocky Horror", and he said "Awwww, you daaaarlin'" in reply in a lovely Australian Accent.  I saw him in Rocky Horror in 1998, it was a provincial tour, and he was regarded as being totally washed up at that point (post drugs problems and all sorts.  He was very thin).  Awesome show, both of them.

Last night, I watched 'Another Country', and, in all honesty, failed to make sense of it, owing to the fact that I was also reading a SQL text book and trying to sort out Quilt patterns.  I think I have it sussed now.  I have a copy of 'Bundles of Fun' and a pattern which has leftovers - which can be turned into a dolly's quilt.  Since N&K want to adopt, I'm hoping for a little girl who would love a quilt - or a little boy who would love one too.  If not a dolly quilt, I can quite see a doggy quilt.  We shall see.  I have also ordered the pattern for 8 fat quarters that I was wondering about yesterday - it's going to a friend in NY who is coming over at the beginning of July, but I need to get a wiggle on with all this.

I have been for another jog.  I had achey thighs before I started, and achier thighs at the end of it, and I shall give myself a break tomorrow.  Either that, or sitting will get challenging.  I like sitting.  Last night, I sat and knit about 20 rows of sweater front, which was helpful.  I have one more sleeve to go on this sweater after the front.

Must sort out CV for the Next Round of applications.  I have another interview this afternoon...

xxx

As opposed to in the bath, although that is on my agenda.  Sunday morning is going at a very gentle pace, apart from the sound of high-speed typing in the kitchen as the Welshman and I sit ( actually, he's standing) at our respective machines and rattle along.  We're listening to a live, accoustic version of Maroon 5's "Songs about Jane", which turned up on iTunes.

I'm having a lovely escapist weekend, and I'm feeling rather more settled.  Still occasionally teary and emotional, but generally settled and much more able to deal with wibbles.  I've had job interviews, folks, and have more next week (and I shan't say any more.  I am terrified of jinxing it all).  Yesterday we just meandered around the place, failed to buy walking trousers, but did succeed in getting a copy of the original Brownie Story (the link is to the version I had when I was a Brownie, aged 7: nowadays, we have a version where Granny tells the story, and the children she is telling it to need to be reminded about not going into the woods on their own) by Mrs Ewing.  Today we are supposed to go for a walk, but I honestly can't see it happening.  And then I have to go home to London Town at 8pm, and, gosh, I'm going to miss the Welshman.

Let's not think about that.  He's singing harmonies to 'She will be loved' at the moment.  It's very endearing.

xxx

We have just had about six inches of rain in half an hour (I may exaggerate).

I am not exaggerating when I say TWO LITRES of water came through the kitchen ceiling, via the same hole I poked in the ceiling last time it flooded.  TWO LITRES in about fifteen minutes (well, it had to back up the whole downpipe first, didn't it?!).

I have mopped up, mostly rescued the books that were just below, and I have taken pictures.  Lots of pictures of the rain.  And film.  Of the rain.  Sweet Jesus.

I wouldn't mind this sort of malarkey half so much if the only problem was hailstones on the bedroom carpet (they were huge.  HUGE.  At least a centimetre across.  HUGE.  Some of them nearly 2cm.  Really), and rain incursing through open windows. 

Oh yes.  There was a LOT of thunder too. 

Did I mention the hailstones?

Pictures when I can find a cable.  Am trying to charge BB. 

Any more thunder and you'll find me under the table.  I don't care what you send, but please, make it tangible.  And preferably Welshman-shaped with accompanying hug.  I am Not Good at thunder.

Incidentally.  Have handed over job.  Now on gardening leave until Friday week.  Am having 24 hours off and then getting with the programme again.  Informed colleague who is apparently capable of doing EVERYTHING to do with the database that when it came to the troubleshooting, call for instructions as and when, since it's very hard to teach troubleshooting with nothing to troubleshoot.

Need. Gin.

xxx

Sam and Emily, my best friend Effily-Eff, finally, after seven and a half years, married.  Not without the odd slight technical hitch.  The taxi didn't turn up - but it was sunny, so we walked to the church (Eff had rather wanted to anyhow), me waving around the veil and train, Sam carrying our bouquets, Chloe the stoles.  We sang - we were in High Holborn, so "I'm getting married" was de-rigeur, I feel.  People did look happy to see us.  My glasses broke (no lenses for me, after I lost part of one in my eye earlier in the week and am a bit gunky) just as we arrived at the church, so I could not see what was going on.  Almost all of us cried.  I needed manhandling up the stairs to sign the register, as I couldn't see the steps clearly (this got worse as the light lowered - I am looking forward to the photos so that I can see what was going on!).  Eff's tiara lost a cameo.  We forgot the confetti...

And, the sun shone.  There was a flypast, ostensibly for the Queen's official birthday, but really for them.  There was champagne, and friends, and glorious canapés in the sunshine.  There was a moomin-topped cake.  There were speeches, and poems, and happiness, and embarrassments, and dancing.

Oh yes.  There was also a friendly Welshman acting as a Guide Dog for me.