Today in six parts
Jun. 17th, 2008 04:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
todayiamadaisyI. Set-up
There was a parcel notice in my letterbox when I arrived home last night: the ribbony-wool stuff for my new scarf, waiting for me at the Post Office, no doubt. I was so excited by this that I got the knitting needles out last night in readiness: one pair of 4mm, check; one pair of 10mm... no. Oh my goodness. No 10mm.
I've never bought knitting needles in my life; I've always used needles from my grandmother's vast collection of them (I suppose it's mine now, but I still think of it as hers). She had everything that a knitter could want: straight needles, cable needles, circular needles, sets of sock needles, crochet hooks, needle gauges, row counters, row markers, and so on and so forth. She could knit an adult-sized jumper in under a week and still do everything else she normally would. She was, in short, a one-woman knitting machine.
Apparently, though, she was a one-woman knitting machine who never used 10mm needles. Tsk.
II. Driveway
As I was walking down the driveway this morning on the way to open the gates, what weak sunshine there was suddenly disappeared under a flickering black shadow. I looked up and found myself directly underneath a large flock of ibis. I haven't seen ibis for ages. I used to see them all the time when we lived on the farm: they were drawn to our swamp, and we often had just as many ibis as we did sheep in the paddocks. I was thinking all this while gazing up when it occurred to me that standing under a flock of birds is never a good idea. So I retreated to the safety of the verandah and watched them go.
III. Post Office
I took the coast road into town, intending to turn down the main street to get to the Post Office. Alas! Road block. I'd forgotten about the Fun 4 Kids festival, the tents for which were being set up on the civic green. Sigh. It'll be blocked off for another month or so now; I'll have to remember not to go that way.
IV. Lincraft
The eastern fringe of the City by the Sea has been turned into a warren of big, ugly boxes containing chain stores. Going out there depresses me. But, o hypocritical me, I wanted to see the recently opened Lincraft store, so I used my need for needles as an excuse. Needles they had, and also, on special, big bags of foam offcuts used for stuffing things: raggy little chunks of pink and green and yellow and blue and that odd, multi-coloured, mottled stuff. I haven't seen that sort of stuffing for years. I didn't know you could still get it, but now I know where to go if I need any.
V. Allansford
Since I was on the edge of town, I decided to keep going east and out of the City by the Sea to the town of Allansford. Once there, I ignored the siren song of Cheeseworld (a shop that makes and sells gourmet cheeses and not, as it should be, a weird, dairy-based global diorama) and headed to Allansford's top-notch plant nursery. On the way, I drove towards a Norfolk Island pine tree, twenty metres high. The bottom half was as expected: trunk and spreading green branches. The pointy top half, however, was white, covered in snow. Then I got closer and the snow took off, making loud screeches; for the second time today I was under a huge flock of birds, only this time it contained cockatoos.
VI. Home
Lunch. New plants planted. Two rows of scarf knitted. I suppose I should do some revision for my exam on Thursday.
There was a parcel notice in my letterbox when I arrived home last night: the ribbony-wool stuff for my new scarf, waiting for me at the Post Office, no doubt. I was so excited by this that I got the knitting needles out last night in readiness: one pair of 4mm, check; one pair of 10mm... no. Oh my goodness. No 10mm.
I've never bought knitting needles in my life; I've always used needles from my grandmother's vast collection of them (I suppose it's mine now, but I still think of it as hers). She had everything that a knitter could want: straight needles, cable needles, circular needles, sets of sock needles, crochet hooks, needle gauges, row counters, row markers, and so on and so forth. She could knit an adult-sized jumper in under a week and still do everything else she normally would. She was, in short, a one-woman knitting machine.
Apparently, though, she was a one-woman knitting machine who never used 10mm needles. Tsk.
II. Driveway
As I was walking down the driveway this morning on the way to open the gates, what weak sunshine there was suddenly disappeared under a flickering black shadow. I looked up and found myself directly underneath a large flock of ibis. I haven't seen ibis for ages. I used to see them all the time when we lived on the farm: they were drawn to our swamp, and we often had just as many ibis as we did sheep in the paddocks. I was thinking all this while gazing up when it occurred to me that standing under a flock of birds is never a good idea. So I retreated to the safety of the verandah and watched them go.
III. Post Office
I took the coast road into town, intending to turn down the main street to get to the Post Office. Alas! Road block. I'd forgotten about the Fun 4 Kids festival, the tents for which were being set up on the civic green. Sigh. It'll be blocked off for another month or so now; I'll have to remember not to go that way.
IV. Lincraft
The eastern fringe of the City by the Sea has been turned into a warren of big, ugly boxes containing chain stores. Going out there depresses me. But, o hypocritical me, I wanted to see the recently opened Lincraft store, so I used my need for needles as an excuse. Needles they had, and also, on special, big bags of foam offcuts used for stuffing things: raggy little chunks of pink and green and yellow and blue and that odd, multi-coloured, mottled stuff. I haven't seen that sort of stuffing for years. I didn't know you could still get it, but now I know where to go if I need any.
V. Allansford
Since I was on the edge of town, I decided to keep going east and out of the City by the Sea to the town of Allansford. Once there, I ignored the siren song of Cheeseworld (a shop that makes and sells gourmet cheeses and not, as it should be, a weird, dairy-based global diorama) and headed to Allansford's top-notch plant nursery. On the way, I drove towards a Norfolk Island pine tree, twenty metres high. The bottom half was as expected: trunk and spreading green branches. The pointy top half, however, was white, covered in snow. Then I got closer and the snow took off, making loud screeches; for the second time today I was under a huge flock of birds, only this time it contained cockatoos.
VI. Home
Lunch. New plants planted. Two rows of scarf knitted. I suppose I should do some revision for my exam on Thursday.