Well, it’s Friday again. New blog post day. I’m pleased to announce the preliminary sorting of all my books onto some sort of shelving. I know you were all dying to hear how that panned out. Their positions are not finalised, though I do have a whole two shelves of a “to read” nature which will have to stay as they are or I’ll never find them again.
I was rudely kept awake last night by a man insistent on duct-taping the vent under my window at one in the morning. I had just gone to bed, so I can’t be too huffy about it, but really? One in the morning? It sounded like rats were stripping the internal walls. I was then woken early (I class early as before my alarm on holidays) by my best friend asking if I could possibly pay for a tent today. Not just any tent. A pavilion, no less, in the medieval sense.
I spend my summers knocking around various castles and fields dressed as a twelfth century noble, getting people dressed as twelfth century peasants to carry things for me. It’s a hobby.
I also have to send some money to his fiancée so she can buy me some fabric from Tewkesbury or Kelmarsh (whichever is easier) s I can get on with making my new fancy twelfth century noblewoman’s dress. I’m quite excited about that as it has four gussets and the hugest sleeves I’ve ever attempted. I’m also quite depressed because I’ve got a ton of embroidery (literally a metric ton) to do for it and the wedding is in October. So it’s a good job I’ve got some Euros to change back because that should cover most of the fabric money.
It never rains but it pours, eh? Tomorrow I’m off on holiday to meet the youngest member of our family for the first time and on the way home we’re saying goodbye to one of the oldest, as it’s my grandad’s funeral. Packing dilemmas 101, amirite? I’m flying Easyjet on the way down so I’ve got to get my holiday clothes and now a funeral outfit into one cabin bag. I hope the heatwave continues because thin cottons take up much less space.
This week, then, I’ve been too busy for reading? Oh dear me, no. On Monday I read Going Postal, and Tuesday I read Monstrous Regiment, both by Terry Pratchett. Wednesday I read The Time Traveler’s Wife. It’s not my fault! It was just sitting there on my bed (with the other books waiting to be shelved)! It was looking at me all wanton, and who am I to resist such a face? I swear, you can forget the Milk Tray Man; I’d much prefer someone who mysteriously left books in my room and skied off all dressed in black. It wasn’t the first time I’d read any of those books, but I was surprised how unaffected I was by The Time Traveler’s Wife. The first time I read it I wept like an idiot. This time, maybe because I was prepared for it; nothing. Ah well.
Right then, I’ve got packing to do and then I have to get the train to town to get my business done, son! A morning of vintage Britney Spears videos it is.
Normal service will resume Friday 26th July.