From darkness to light

 

 Watching a distant storm skimming the horizon

while standing on dry land

with just the slightest feeling 

that the wind could bring the trouble nearer
and there we are without an umbrella or galoshes.

Then breathing a sigh of relief as it passes

and the sun returns.

If only all our worries could be blown away so easily.

Faux Fair Isle Fail

I was very taken by the idea that I could use a wool

that would knit Fair Isle all by itself,

according to the lady in the shop.

I have attempted the real thing and it's time consuming, fiddly

and rather too warm with the double layer of loops at the back of the work.

I needed a quick project that would be off the needles before

grand-daughter went away on her holiday.

Planes can be chilly even though her destination isn't.

So I embarked on a hooded jumper with pom poms

excited to see how this would work.

Hmm. Nice stripes with the merest suggestion of alternate stitch colour change

but Fair Isle it ain't.

For the real thing you could do no better than to visit this clever person.

Luckily grand-daughter likes it a lot

and wore it with the hood up on quite a warm day

until we both agreed that she was getting a bit too hot.

Rest cure

 Nothing to read here.

What a relief.

No signs.

No instructions.

No advertisements.

I find myself incapable of ignoring any lettering

however banal.
These days we are bombarded by messages,
but the habit of reading them all started young.

I remember feeling obliged to decipher the words

mesembryanthemum criniflorum

on the back of the loo door at home.

I can't have been more than five years old.

My father had pasted up some pages torn out of Amateur Gardening to

the panels on the door.

There was another sign in his spindly writing taped

to the geyser that heated the water for our baths.

It read,

Remember. Before lighting remove paper from chimney.

We read this nightly and eventually set it, somewhat bizarrely, 
to the hard-to-scan chorus of

In a feeble attempt to stave off this madness

I peel the labels from appliances

and products that cannot be mistaken for anything else.

This may yet be my undoing but so far it offers a little merciful respite.

How do you cope?

Serenities

We are a starved society living in the midst of plenty.

Our possessions are many, our serenities few.

Laurie Lee.

Out of sight

but never far from my mind,

the contents of the drawers,

(that lampshade's got to go)

(Sorting papers: Rule of Thumb: Discard Everything M.K)

Edited to say that these above are now Drawers of Joy.
You may take that quite literally.

(sweet and innocent but stuffed)

(this has a matching set on the opposite side),

shelves,

(mostly Northern husband's, further shelf not visible - untouched),

(mostly mine - hugely reduced),

cupboards,

(this above is possibly the scariest in terms of content),

(shelves above not visible),

(particularly deceptive this one as we sit on it daily

but inside there lurks a huge selection of board games

that nobody ever wants to play).

Where was I?

Piles and stacks,

(Marie has joined the stacks),

and suitcases,

of Doom.

And that's without showing you the Garage of Doom
 the Greenhouse of Doom
or the Desk of Doom at which I sit to pen
my Useful or Beautiful blog.
So there we have it.
Keeping it real.