This past week has been a bit higgledy-piggledy all over. We've had plenty of beginnings and endings: new knitting projects, completed handspun, various illnesses floating around the house...
There's nothing better than a relaxing weekend spent gossiping with friends. Except for a relaxing three-day-weekend spent gossiping with friends. I never really know when Spanish fiesta days pop up, so it's always a lovely surprise when I get an extra day off for no real reason except for the fact that some saint somewhere did something somewhat notable at some point in the past. M'agrada molt*.
I told myself that this year, I'd purchase something from each monthly update of Countess Ablaze's new collection: The Odyssey Trail. As usual, updates are rough. You essentially have about one minute and seventeen seconds to put everything in your basket and click through to checkout, and even then you don't manage to score everything you had your eye on. I actually really wanted some superwash Merino in a black/orange/pink/red colourway, but by the time I'd hit checkout it was sold out. Wow. Luckily, I also quite fancied this braid of Southdown and managed to get my grubby mitts on it just in time.
The postlady waddled up to my door yesterday with an extra bag attached to her little trolley. Inside, two big parcels - just for me! That's dedication, and I told her so in my weird mix of Spanish and Catalan (Spanalan?) - she briefly laughed and went on her way, while I closed the door as nonchalantly as I could, before sprinting upstairs to rip open the packaging.
Have you ever caught a virus from a child? They're evil mutant diseases that take hold, and don't let go for ever and ever a good couple of weeks. Recently, I caught bronchitis from the kids. Two weeks of a deliciously mucusy hacking cough that puts so much pressure on your head, your eyes feel like exploding. I've spent a lot of time sleeping - coupled with eye strain, that meant very little time spent on spinning. The fifteen minutes of daily spinning I looked forward to began to feel like a chore. I slowed right down - instead of managing four or five batt strips in that quarter hour, I was only halfway through the second when the timer beeped. I was picking up the spindle with a sigh, rather than a smile. It made me sad that I didn't even look forward to my favourite activity anymore. I'd been working on Hen for a long time - my only current spinning project. Maybe putting Hen aside, and starting something new in the meantime would pick me up?
