It's a week since I last posted, in spite of good intentions to try and post at least twice a week ... with my father home, my sister visiting, and the kids' social diary, I haven't had the time to do justice to writing, seeing as how you all expect such finely crafted and wittily honed literary jewels from me by now ....
In a forlorn attempt to improve the tone of my mind, I accompanied Auntie Fashion and Belo to Sutton Hoo on Friday; they thought that a bit of Culture would be good for me, I gave in for the promise of lunch. It was a fabulous hot and sunny day - we looked round Tranmer House, decorated in the style of the late 1930s (and no wonder people were so miserable then, all that gloomy dark wood panelling and unwelcoming coldness), visited the 2nd-hand book stall, had a lovely lunch (I do like a chilled Aspall's cider) and a quick swish round the exhibition hall. We didn't have time to go see the actual boat or walk the many, many miles of path to see the burial mounds. Oh what a shame. That last may have been a bit mumbled due to my tongue being so far in my cheek.
One or maybe even two or more of these, helps dull the mental and physical torture of enforced Culture aka Mossy Rocks. Except this particular site is so old there aren't any rocks. Or moss.
On Saturday I strong-armed DH into taking me to Twist in Woodbridge to get some yarn for a birthday scarf for one of his 3 brothers; we selected some lovely smooth Sublime Baby Cashmere Merino Silk DK in the rather oddly named colorway 'Button':
And I am doing the pattern myself as I can't find one that suits and that I also like.
And DH is in the doghouse. We came downstairs on Saturday morning to find Mini Diva's guinea pig, Rosie, had departed in an untimely fashion from unknown causes for the Great Hutch in the Sky. Many sobs and tears later, the shroud and coffin had been debated and agreed upon, and DH said that he would do the burial honors.
As of 8pm Sunday night, Rosie's body was still lying in state in a Tefal toaster box on the patio. When questioned, Mini Diva told me that Daddy was going to take Rosie and bury her at the beach when he went to work. I couldn't destroy her faith in her Daddy by telling her he was lying through his teeth, that Rosie was destined for the black bin - so instead I freaked out my neighbor (watching a murder-mystery on the TV) by shovelling out a hole and burying the little body in the front garden .... Mini Diva chose a rather nice orangey hemerocallis to go above her. DH's grave will get no such nice touches.
Ooooh ! And Holly finally received the April Fool's prize that she won with her pome: you can see the prize here.