• Return paternal trousers that are too long (new pair ordered)
• Now that camera and cord are in the same place, post photo of Mum in New Sweater
• Thank you letters
• Return Library books (both mine, and Great Dane Puppy's.  Further complicated by fact that we use different Libraries)
• Brownies Accounts
• Brownies Sixes Need to know when some are wanting to move up before doing final writeup
• Invite New Brownies
• Organise a walk with The Welshman to try out my New Boots
• Break in said New Boots
• Apologise to new downstairs neighbour for noise involved No noise involved
• Laundry (lots)
• Tidy away presents, and get rid of some other books In progress
• Sort out knitting magazines, dispose of some Or just reorganise shelving?
• Put laundry away In progress
• Go to work for next two days
• New Year's Eve Party
• Organise when to take Stuff to the Guide Loft (not as much stuff as I had originally thought, but still quite enough).
• Finish that tablecloth before 2011
• Move onto assembling lots of sewing things (rompers, a dress, a skirt)
• Source new computer speakers for Dad for Father's Day before I forget
• Worry about Mum's birthday presents (part are hidden in a wardrobe)
• Go to bed at a sensible hour
• Sort out distributing The Book
• Tidy sitting room
• Tidy bedroom
• Blog just a bit more...

xxx

Yesterday, I spent THREE HOURS getting to the point where I could cut out the pieces for a smocked baby romper. Today, I should be doing the gathers, but I'm playing on Mum's computer and trying to decide whether it really does have as many problems as she thinks.  I'm thinking probably not.  It doesn't take at least 15 minutes to start up.  I timed it.  It took 4, which is totally respectable for a ten year old Windoze 98 machine, I feel

Anyhow, the romper suit took longer to cut out than usual, mostly because I had to trace all the pattern pieces out of the magazine first, then make sure that the gingham I'm using was properly lined up.  All that prep.  By the end of last night, I'd got that all done and managed to sort out a test piece of smocking.  I think I need to make my stitches in the smocking a little tighter, but all shall be well.

I fancied a change from knitting, you see.

SQL Blog.   It seems to turn up lots in the syspolicy_purge_history failed on the cluster searches, and that's about it.  No-one seems to pay any attention to it, which is just as well.  I'm not sure how accurate I am.

I have just spent an exhausting half hour trying to tidy up my  Mother's email address book.  I nearly throttled her at one point.  Read three addresses out.  Which one does she want? She doesn't know...  Would help if the local county council didn't keep changing its email addresses, also if it labelled them all correctly, also if she had kept the bounces for longer than five seconds.  GAH!  I don't know what it is, but unless she or I hear what we want for the other, we argue the toss and don't listen properly.  Also, Yahoo!'s interface stinks. <Calms down>.

I have forgotten my camera cord, so I cannot share pictures of my Mum wearing her Christmas sweater (knitted, by me, to order, over the last five months), even if she were actually wearing it.  She's tried it on, it fits beautifully, but she's worried about spoiling it.  As a child, she never changed the clothes on her dolls, in case she spoilt them, so this is actually quite a compliment.  Frustrating though, I want to see her wear it!  Grrr.

And now, for some odd reason, I have to drive via where I used to live in order to pick up friend before going to cinema.  Bah.  I wanted to take the slightly shorter route that doesn't involve going that way at all.  Oh well.  At least I have control over the car.  Although this does mean a witness, thus I am all bothered about driving, rather than full of sang froid.

Moan, whinge, makes no sense, but terribly pleased with my present from The Welshman, which involves real pearls bought on Christmas Eve.  I think you could label that situation "It's Complicated."

xxx

Doesn't have quite the same ring as 'Back to Bom', in Midnight's Children, does it? I'm so glad I read that while I was in India.  It was much better that way... I could sing 'back to Bom' to myself as I went back to Mumbai.  I digress.

I'm home.  My Mother's hair is a delicate shade of mauve, and threatening to give Phyllis from Coronation Street a run for her money.  My Father collected me from the station and sulked at me - sulks diverted by my presentation of a card from the cat, which I'd acquired in Florida.  I am wondering how much I can decently drink and get away with.

The Welshman is being complicated.  He wants to be friends, he drove me to the station, and has presented me with an array of Things to Unwrap.  I feel as though I'm being inadequate.  I Failed to get a satsuma for his stocking (I did manage to get some whisky crowns from Charbonnel et Walker, and I gave him far fewer things to unwrap.  Ostensibly, we are friends.  Ostensibly, I am single.  Reality is confusing.  I attempted to go on a date on Tuesday, which was a total disaster area.  I don't want to see that chap again (we'll call him the Bright Young Thing as he looks just like a character from Stephen Fry's adaptation of 'Vile Bodies' as 'Bright Young Things'). The Bright Young Thing failed to walk me to the bus stop, at gone 10.30pm.  I expect to be walked to the bus stop and seen safely onto the bus: I don't expect to be bought drinks, I don't expect to be bought my cinema ticket, or my meal.  I am probably weirdly old fashioned.  Anyhow, we went to see 'An Education' - I only said yes because I wanted to see the film.  On balance, I feel it was worth it, as I thoroughly enjoyed the film and the popcorn (I buy my own popcorn).  The Bright Young Thing wants to be my friend on Facebook.  I am in two minds.  Which means the answer is probably 'no'.  Hmmm.  Particularly since my penultimate status was 'Men should walk women to the bus stop'.  Hmmm again.  I shall leave it for a day or so.

I'm confused.  My love life has gone all complicated, and I'm confused.  Probably in denial as well.  I don't feel like letting go of the Welshman.  I'm not sure he wants to let go of me - as far as I know, I was a Christmas-present-free entity when we decided that things, as they are, weren't going to work properly in the current (then) format.  That FB status of "It's complicated" sums the whole thing up perfectly.  It is complicated.

I have just realised I ought to wrap Mum's sweater, and make sure I have camera batteries enough to take pictures.  I might borrow her camera and upload them, I think the PC I'm using at the moment will let me do that.  I forgot my USB cable.  I felt it was more important to remember the charger for the iPod.

Back to the wrapping.  More meandering as I think of it.  It is nice to have some space for blogging again. I would like to tell you all what I was doing today but a. it was all SQL and b. I have a separat blog for that, so I'll bore there, somewhen, instead.  Suffice to say that I spent an hour wrestling with accounts and logins and permissions and, eventually, succeeded.

xxx

 Someone, or someones; some completely and utterly unutterably vile personages have stolen this sign:

For the 1.1 million people who died in Auschwitz, this is incredibly insulting.  More people; Jews, Gypsies, politican prisions, POWs, disabled, homosexual, prisoners of conscience and faith; died at Auschwitz than in the combined British and US forces during the SEcond World War.  Only 1/10th of the staff at the camp were punished.

Each year, on 11th November, we remember the troops who have died to make us free: some of whom died in order to end the dreadful fallacy of the Nazi camps, that work could make you free.  Since 2001, we have observed, on 27th January, Holocaust Memorial Day.  I remember Szyja Waisbrod each Yom Hashoah, I am the Guardian of his Memory.  He died in Kupczynce: even though he was not at Auschwitz, I still feel insulted on behalf of his memory, on behalf of the 6 million victims of the Holocaust (3 million of whom are still nameless - their names are not recorded, because there was no one to record them).

A replica sign has been put up for the time being - it was made so that the original sign could be restored. The original must be found, preferably before someone melts it down in an act of callousness.

So ready.  My temper is too frayed, my Guides are ungrateful and seem to eat paint the way I eat chocolate (so I am not doing Guides next term. Just Brownies. I do not feel guilty about this at all, merely relieved), I am tired, I am bitchy, I am not at top form, I have dry skin and my scalp is flaking off.  I cannot concentrate.  I itch.

I have mostly packed (I need to do my traditional pre-flight mega wash, and then I can put my shampoo in), I have checked in, found my passport, printed off my insurance details, sorted out my in flight entertainment (one pair of mittens to knit, one book, one download of The Camomile Lawn).

My flat is more-or-less tidy for once, I have been well-and-truly hugged and kissed by my Welshman at the tube station last night, work is pretty up to date, with an interesting project on the horizon.

I know what I need to bring back (vaguely), but, really, I am mostly looking forward to doing absolutely nothing for three days at least.  Then shopping or whatever else can happen.  However, I need to be out of action until Tuesday night so that the sanity can come back, the sleep can be caught up, and some serious knitting can be done.

2009 has kicked too many of us about - 2008 wasn't very much better, but seemed to be slightly less cancerous. I do hope 2010 has some redeeming qualities, but I suspect it won't.  Pessimist that I am.

xxx