And I’ve survived!
That is, always supposing something terrible doesn’t happen in the next ten days or so. Quite frankly, this holiday season, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if a gnu eating ice creams and riding a unicycle landed on me from a great height. It’s been one of those Augusts. And Julys.
Knitting has happened, however:
(this is a Woolwinding shawl in Rowan’s Grainy Silk) which always makes me feel better. Better despite the fact that I’ve begun to wonder why I don’t just paint a big target on my car and have done with it. Losses? Two wing mirrors, both to tourists going too fast. In one case the German driver was delightful and it was either me or the cyclist he was overtaking, so obviously it was me; in the other, the (British plates) driver vamoosed. Dents? Numerous, including one from being barrelled into a wall by a motor home driving on the wrong side of the road. British, again.
And the weather’s been iffy. But I can warm my hands on this:
I once worked in a major gallery. I went off to do a stage in the US, and one museum where I worked had a lunar chart on the back of the staffroom door. I thought flaky, typical – but no. They’d charted bad customer behaviour and it did coincide with phases of the moon. When I returned to the UK we tried it.
Then we tried atmospheric pressure.
Weather changes, either good or bad? Changes in visitor dingbattiness. This summer has provided further support for this theory, to the extent that I submit that it no longer qualifies as theoretical. Been in craft pop up. Woman picks up long thin shawl, holds it right out, studies it. Turns to me: ‘Is this a hat?’
No, it’s a shawl. But do try winding it around your head, it might keep your brain warm.
It is really, really hard keeping the sarcasm level at acceptable. Really hard. So if anyone reading this gets a bit of a sharp response from some hardworking shop keeper this season, please bear in mind the effects of atmospheric pressure, and that if we have to explain once more that ‘please do eat or drink in this shop’ includes you with the can, your child with the crisps, the one with the ice cream and above all the one with the squishy banana, and take it in the spirit it was intended.
And also take your sticky child, your quavers, your magnum, your banana, your dripping can of cola out. Because I am armed with sharp sticks, and by this stage I am not afraid to use them.