Galloping through book number three of the year. Exquisitely detailed descriptions of place (the marshlands of North Carolina), of nature, of clothes worn, of food prepared, meals eaten. Set in the 50s and 60s, it's a story of abandonment and survival, difference and intolerance, rejection and loneliness. And maybe a murder. Not quite perfect but very readable and **** .
Finishing the littlest's stripey jumper, which should fit. Well, it will if his arms hang past his knees.
Watching Season 1 of Anne with an E on Netflix. Based on the book, Anne of Green Gables, the familiar storylines are there but this version is darker, presenting a much more miserable picture, mostly via flasbacks, of an orphan's life. So, Anne's vivid imagination seems to be more a way of dealing with the abuse she has suffered prior to being taken in by the Cuthberts. Although it's a period piece, it's modern, if that makes sense. The Prince Edward Island setting (and the Cuthberts' house) is stunning and, so, whilst it's not what I was expecting (I love the book), I'm sticking with it. For now.
Wondering what on earth has happened to the hyacinths I planted. They seemed to be doing well, but the flower spikes (blue, huzzah!) are stunted, poor wee things. They still have that glorious hyacinth fragrance, though you have to stick your neb right in to get a whiff.
Making marmalade. It was a messy business, not helped by one of the glass jars in the motley collection shattering whilst being filled. But it tastes so good. Too good, maybe.
Consuming far too much sugar. See above.
Missing the coffee machine which has been spending time in coffee machine hospital. I tried coffee bags and a cafetiere in the meantime but it just wasn't the same. Cue lots (the bank account confirms) of visits to cafes where sweet vegan treats have also been consumed (resistance, I find, is futile). Costa's rocky road, Nero's raspberry croissant and a cherry and almond scone at a newish vegan eatery up the road were memorable.
Sweeping up white feathers which were scattered along the length of the drive and in piles by the dustbin and on our neighbours' front garden. From the amount I had to dispose of, they'd once kept an albatross warm and dry.
Sending Buzz cat to Coventry. See above.
Filling the vase with tulips, my absolute favourites.
Learning the basics of modern calligraphy. This was a hugely enjoyable workshop, held one evening in an upstairs room in a bistro, and had nine of us getting to grips with securing the nib in its holder, loading it with just the right amount of ink to avoid blobs and positioning the hand properly to ensure a scratch-free flow across the paper. Honestly, we were all so focused on forming the letters (thin upward, thick downward strokes), time sped by (I only remembered to eat my slice of vegan chocolate cake just before everything was cleared away). Now for some home practice. Without spilling the ink.
Meeting up with my girl in London, to celebrate her birthday.
Demolishing a very delicious afternoon tea.
Lurking long after the table had been cleared after discovering the presence of a TV film crew. I've always felt I'd make an excellent extra. After all, I do have stage experience and yes, yes, I know I was only three at the time but it all counts. However, I suspect this might be as close as I get to a BAFTA.
Returning home after a fab day out. With the wrong box of afternoon tea leftovers.
