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I knit, I sew, I run, I look after children and hamsters, I take truly terrible pictures, I cook, I complain.  Sometimes all at the same time.

Saturday, 5 January 2013

Dick had a Duck with Fur on his Face

I cannot find my keys from one day to another, I regularly forget where I've left the car, but I remember the words, tune and descant to every carol I've ever sung and that silly mnemonic for remembering irregular Latin imperatives for something or other, I've forgotten.  One of the other silly things I remember is the way to remember Greek meter - down in a deep, dark dell, lived an old cow, mun-ching a bean-stalk (punctuation to show the way it's said).  Mrs Charity has a lot to answer.

It's only a few days into the new year, and we've already been stupidly busy; cycling, trips to Brent Cross, up the M1 to Whipsnade, playdates, hysterics and all sorts.  I've even managed to finish a knitting project, and a novel.


The novel was the Rose Labyrinth, and while it was interesting and I read it very quickly, it cannot be called great, or even good, literature; the writer is so desperate to show us all her research that it starts being a bit irritating.  "Alex is an immunologist; he is a doctor who looks at the immune system, which must be jolly hard, because, look, even though he is beautiful and clever and caring, he is single because his wife left him as he worked so hard.  Work is his LIFE."

OK, it's not quite that bad, but you get the general idea.

I finished the rabbit on the way up to Whipsnade - Hat was so excited about seeing the animals, but, once we got there, was terrified by the tigers, the sea lions  and even the elephants, although she later explained that they are all "nice" and "not eat me", which is progress, I suppose.  We spent far more time in the soft play area than anywhere else.

Back to work on Monday, I could do with a rest.



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