The Queen is watching

Soundtrack: Air - The Virgin Suicides


That was a good weekend. A nice combination of the relaxing, the doing, the drinking and the cooking.

Thom was a bit impatient on Saturday and went into town, but sod that, it was my first day off, so I just stayed in bed knitting my clapotis and dying my hair (in the bathroom, not bed). It's a bit cold in our house, which is my excuse for staying in bed and not getting dressed. The clapotis is my current home project, and it's going really well. I love the yarn I'm using - Noro silk garden. Getting splinters from the yarn is particularly amusing. It's not that boring to knit as there's a rigid pattern that I need to remember every other line, so I just sit there thinking 'ooh, I'll just do row 6' and before I know it I've finished a whole pattern repeat. And I have to concur with Crazy Aunt Purl, the coloured striping is enough to keep you entertained. Just as you get to some shitty grey and you think it's time to peel a potato, a pretty pink bit starts being introduced.


I've finally got to the stage where I'm dropping stitches. It feels very naughty, yet it's not quite as gratifying as I expected. Although I haven't been splitting the yarn whilst knitting, there are lots of irritating little strands that get wrapped around the stitches, so I almost find myself ripping the yarn when trying to make a ladder. It will be worth it in the end though. I can't wait to wear it as a seasonal transition wrap!


We played a gig in Hythe, Kent on Saturday night. It was an odd venue - the British Legion. To move from the standard gig circuit in London to some seaside town cabaret club felt odd, but it was worth it for all the nuances it offered. We arrived at the venue to be greeted by a Union Jack, but the pièce de resistance was a painting of The Queen that hung over the stage. It all seemed worthwhile when we knew Her Maj was watching. I'll put photos up as I get them.

Half of Sunday was spent in bed watching Hollyoaks/keeping warm/knitting. At lunch I thought I should probably leave the pit, and so headed into Windsor to try and spend my high street vouchers. This is an impossible task though; despite Windsor being quite a sizeable town centre, it only caters for tourists or posh people. Heaven forbid I should want your bog standard Dorothy Perkins. Not that I can spend my vouchers at any decent shops anyway, it seems. I did a bit of research and found that only classy establishments such as Iceland and Ethel Austin take the vouchers.

I still managed to spend a fortune on underwear and hot chocolate, and I bought these GORGEOUS shoes from Marks + Spencer. Look! Gold hearts!

Sunday night was finished off down The Stag, revelling in the novelty of a pub being open until midnight on a Sunday, but still getting to bed by 10.30 (with an orange hot chocolate).