Today has been a stay at home day. We have had blue skies and sun one minute and pouring rain the next. The weather has been confused. And I have been in the sewing room, cutting, trimming and sewing.
There is more new autumn bunting up in the house. What? You thought there was too much already?
This time I did it with a gap between each one - like the ones you buy in the shops. I am not convinced. I think I prefer the ones where they are made with triangles adjoining triangles. No gaps. Hmmm. I may make another one. You would laugh, you know - how many strands of bunting have i made for my own home? Dozens. Have I ever written down the length of binding or the number of triangles? No. So today I have started keeping a log. Better late than never.
I cut out the mountain of strips of fabric for Christmas bunting. Now I am waiting. You see - I want the friends who asked for more to tell me what length they need, and then I will be able to zap them up. Tonight, I will carry on pinking shearing the edges. Now I feel like a sheep farmer.
And then, before I made the autumn bunting, I had to do all the edges. It is amazing how big the pile gets. In the spring, I thought maybe the birds would like it for their nests. They declined. They also turned their noses up at wool scraps. My local birds appear to be fussy. I was looking forward to brightly coloured nests in the garden. They didn't happen. The birds kept pecking away at the coir basket liners, therefore killing half the plants.
I should have entered my pile of cuttings into the Turner Prize competition. And called it Autumn sun.
Maybe next year.
My computer continues to whirr (I had to check the spelling - it does exist) alarmingly. I did vacuum the innards from the back through the holes. My youngest son says it has to be the fan. Wonderful. So I now have a clean fan which whirrs. Maybe I should kick it. That may stop the noise. Or stop the computer.
I have actually spoken to both my sons today. I was going to say boys, but they are both clearly men. "Sons" is a compromise. One was on his way to work, and the other was up on the campus. The one on campus and I had to discuss why neither of us was aware that there was a "booking fee" hidden somewhere in the small print, which had nearly every parent of the 600 students in his residence burning up the wires to the residence head office in fury after receiving emails. Me included. I sincerely hope they change the way they do things in future. I may have given them detailed instructions on how to do this, beginning with "send an invoice". It seems simple, really.
Ah well, I paid. I am Mum.
So tomorrow, I am starting on the mountain of fruit and vegetables which need to be cooked and frozen. That will be my creative effort, I think. I may make some cakes. Apple ones. I would make apple muffins if the kids were home. They used to LOVE apple muffins when they were small. Maybe I will make them at Christmas time. I can roll out all the old favourites. Gingerbread. Cinnamon cake.
Get a grip, Linds, Christmas is all of 73 days away. (Go and check that link to the Christmas clock - what a lovely idea!) That is a long way off.
Right. It is time for coffee and the pinking shears. Enjoy your evening!