Musings, none of a fibrous nature

Driving back from the supermarket run, beautiful day, I'm wearing my mirror sunglasses that came oh-so-cheap from a $$ store in the States last autumn. I got to do today what I love doing - to put my shades on as I drive along. Such a silly little thing, but in the days when I wore glasses all the time, changing from one pair to another whilst continuing to drive was totally impossible. The few seconds of myopic absence rendered it potentially lethal!

I see as I drive through Friendly - we have some good community/village/whatever names around here - a line of little chickies, swallow-babies all blue-bloused and black-shorted, fluffy and innocent (at least one would like to think so, but unless schoolgirls have changed in the last forty years - not)perched on a low wall. Fluttering gently, as the young woman who must have been their sports teacher swung gaminely around a lamp-post trying to seem cool and trying to engender in them some enthusiasm for sport. Probably running, as they were out in the wild, and under that great blue sky. One for the UK list.

Hebden Bridge - where I do not quite live - has come top on another list. Not content with being both gay-friendly and internationally funky (I kid you not) it now is the least clone-afflicted town in the country. No River Islands, Dorothy Perkins, Nexts or Starbucks for us! Actually, Starbucks would have a hard time of it if they wanted to come here, which they won't, as we have at least fifteen coffee or tea shops already (it may actually be more, I lost count at fifteen a couple of years ago. Plus I can just imagine the demonstrating and campaigning that would ensue if they tried it - positively Starbucks Wars....

It is a funny old day. Not really quite sure why, lots of little things. Woke up with the black crow of anxiety well and truly ensconced, but am learning slowly that the trick (partially successful) is to simply ignore it.

So, bright and early this morning, a large party of folk with shovels and pickaxes arrived outside the house. It was all I could do not to fling wide the window and warble a chorus of "Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work &etc", but I forbore. Being of a brightish nature, I realised that the Trust were coming to put the drainage channel in, indeed, it transpired, two. At this point I decided that the better part of valour was to go to the supermarket and let them get on with it.

When I got back, I was not able to cross the work-in-progress, but had to abandon the car until told otherwise. Unbeknownst to me, H was the other side of the construction zone, so came panting up desperate for coffee. Meanwhile, the Troll was out there rampaging and what is more taking photographs, thus giving me carte blanche to get my digital out next time she plays her tricks. I didn't do that this afternoon, when she shot herself totally in the foot by haranguing the Trust people about there not being a Right of Way. Yippee! Grist to our mill.

All this excitement has left little time for fibre pursuits, so nothing has gone on other than completing the first front of the waistcoat - so far so good - and starting the back. This has no design yet. It may develop one on the fly. Tomorrow is Alston, with Magrat, then two more days at Alston, not teaching but beading. Should be good. Knackering - with all the driving - but good.

gw