Tuesday, 2 March 2010

It's a Mystery

Another beauuuutiful day here, today. This is the view from the bedroom window - you could (if you had a magnifying glass) just about make out snow still on the mountains, but the sky is so blue, it really doesn't matter. The building that you can just about make out through the trees (top right'ish) is my son's school - I know, how lucky? He can see his bedroom window from the playground.

Well the Tomato Ketchup costume is finished. Like the donut that I am, I completely forgot to take his pic in it, so here it is layed out on a (rather crumpled) bed.

This is the top of the ketchup bottle:

The boy keeps taking the hat off and leaning over and saying "squirt, squirt".
Now. Something totally bizarre happened yesterday. There I was in my sewing corner. I had just finished knitting the boy's first wrist warmer, put my needles down, turned round and sewed up the seam. I turned back round to cast on the second glove and - hang on - WHERE has my needle gone? I looked under my chair, on my desk, on the window sill - NOWHERE to be seen. Completely. Vanished. Half and hour later and I STILL had not found it and I STILL have not found it today. Very, very strange. I had not moved from my seat and it has somehow managed to walk away from me. When I told hubby about this, in a sort of half-shreaky voice, he just shrugged and said it happens to him all the time at work - he puts down a tool, turns round and it's gone. Of course, there are other people around him so it's obvious that someone else usually takes it. But I was alone. All alone. Or was I? ...
Talking of husbands. Mine is a builder, God love him. Which means he wears builder's boots. Which means that when he comes through the door I say hello, give him a kiss, and then immediately check out his boots for mud. Sometimes, he pops home in the middle of the day and if I'm upstairs I shout 'Hello' and then 'Boots!' because I know he will be striding across the kitchen deposting large clumps of the brown stuff all over the floor. 9 times out of 10 he will reply 'They're clean' - !!!!! - what a LIE! - and then he'll turn round and say 'oh ... sorry'. ARGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!
This morning, I actually mopped the floor so that it was all shiny and new. And half an hour later the clumps of mud had returned.
You know, I was contemplating Spring cleaning, but there is a part of me that thinks WHAT'S THE POINT?
Okay. Deep breaths. I can do this.

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