Today was going to be a day of 'nothing in particular'
The sun was shining brightly, although [ always needed ] rain was forecast
Nothing much on the agenda apart from some nebulous plans that might possibly involve ... shock ... horror ... knitting or quilting, and maybe some time spent pottering about the manse [as Sheepie might say ]
The first change to my non-plan came on the way back from dropping David at Windarring, when I was struck by an irresistible urge to visit friend Beverley at the semi-ungodly hour of 9.30am
Maybe she was sending out subtle 'come see me' vibes, because I was met at the door with glad and joyous cries expressing the thought that I was just the person she wanted to see.
So one coffee-in-her-totally-wonderful-garden-with-cats later, and after some solicited advice [ and a quick trip home and back for one of my Japanese quilt books ] I once again headed for home and the first of two phone calls alerting me to impending visitors.
The first - who shall remain nameless to protect the guilty - wanted to know if I could take up a couple of pairs of work pants because she'd lost the foot pedal to her machine.
except that 2 pairs ended up being seven or eight [ I lost count in there somewhere ]
sotto voce mutter, mutter, grumble
deep cleansing breath
Serenity was easily restored in a very predictable manner:
I took any lingering frustrations out on an innocent barrow load of firewood
followed by the predicted rains : gentle, soothing, but necessitating a change
Fast forward to late afternoon and Ms Tara arrived on a mission that involved borrowing one of my quilts. Needless to say there was also the prospect of more cuppas, a little more tandem knitting, and - the most important detail - Tara brought cherry cake. [ she is now David's new best friend ]
She admired the newly finished striped-thingamajig-which-turned-out-to-be-a-stole
and ended up coming in at 58 ' x 16 "
not bad for one ball of yarn
and I stood mute witness as she came to the sad realisation that this yarn did not want to be a sock.
It has ceased to be
It has rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible
It is an ex-sock
but that's okay because it can now realise its yarny dreams of becoming a shawl
and what does the rest of the evening hold for David and I, now that Tara has wended her way homeward to a well-deserved dinner ?
Dr Who mini marathon [ with knitting ]