Friends, foes, foreigners and countrymen, the time has come. Better earlier than later or never:
I suffer from acute blogger’s block. Considering that my body is made of 25 % of water and 75 % of words spouting at any one time, regardless whether anyone is listening, this is serious enough to have me committed (to the intensive care unit – not the Cuckoo’s Nest).
My condition is not helped by not being able to access Ramana’s blog which feeds into both my paranoia and prosecution complex. All I draw is a blank. Seriously, Ramana, no joke – you are wiped out on my screen if that’s not too strong a way of putting it. Can’t get to the bottom of the problem. Let’s just blame Conrad since he is good for nothing (insert one of Jean’s smileys to soften the blow). Also my conscience loudly reminding me that I still owe Ashok, at the last count, two responses.
I don’t make empty promises so I just shall have to knuckle under later this evening and try and prove what Ashok believes me to be. The lattter being hard work. Easier to read a knitting pattern – which, in English, is impossible. I loved knitting as a young girl. Unfortunately my mother – and she wasn’t even of the bra burning type – didn’t understand my urge and always thought me too ambitious in my projects and – when brandishing my end result – could hardly bring herself to acknowledge that it was worth the effort.
I am not here to defend hoovering, knitting, ironing or cleaning the loo as worthwhile pastimes. However, they leave your brain free to do what your brain does best. Which, often, is not a lot.
On a positive note, and I paraphrase: Busy hands make idle thoughts work for the devil. Beat that if you can.
Yes, knit one, purl one. Just like the British (and Malta) have this unrelenting sentiment that everyone else in the whole wide world drives ‘on the wrong side’ (I don’t know about India) they also knit in the opposite direction. A bit like the Chinese read. Once you have learnt knitting, and Grannymar might confirm this, you can’t unlearn the technique. It’s like being asked to learn how to ride a bike again, only this time upside down. That’s why I gave up 28 years ago (knitting, not riding a bike).
Anyway, have to relocate brain gone walkies.
U
PS Wooly scarves on application. Do specify colour preference. Cashmere thrown in for free.
Have no fear, Ursula, you’re not the only one that can’t access Ramana’s blog. I draw a blank too.
I’m trying to imagine how you knit. Do you have a digital camera? I know the French knit differently than I was taught. When I was knitting on a bus in Paris one woman couldn’t stand it any longer so she showed me the way it “should” be done. She was right. It was more efficient and from that day forward I did it her way.
Comment by Cheerful Monk — December 30, 2009 @ 21:29 |
I can’t get into Ramana’s blog either, so that makes three of us. Ursula, I am very happy you started a blog. Actually, I feel you needed it. You have a lot to say, and why waste your sweetness in the comment section of other people’s blogs where it won’t get the attention it deserves?
My FIL is now lying comatose in a second hospital. The whole family is playing the waiting game. Your kind comment over at mine was much appreciated. The clan has gathered from far and near. That’s where I am right now.
Until the next time we meet…
Comment by gaelikaa — December 31, 2009 @ 03:05 |
Ramana is not responsible for that sad plight. Rummuser’s server, a good friend and an one man army, has gone off on holiday to bring the new year in. In his absence, the server has conked out! Hopefully by tomorrow, the 1st of January India time, the blog should be up and running with the Friday post.
Nice to know that I am missed when I am blank!
Comment by Rummuser — December 31, 2009 @ 14:14 |
I’ve noticed that comic strips & cartoons by men, the knitting needles are pointed toward the ceiling, the stitching part facing the ground. That doesn’t work! I think it’s because men don’t knit that they don’t put the needles in the right position. (What do the French do?)
I’m glad Ursula’s blog isn’t about “sweetness”. Why shouldn’t we express ourselves as adults without all this kowtowing?
Comment by bikehikebabe — December 31, 2009 @ 17:11 |
Bikehikebabe – the ‘sweetness’ noun was a metaphor. I know Ursula’s not your saccharine type. I was quoting from some poem or another about a flower not been born to waste it’s sweetness on empty air. Unfortunately both the poem’s name and author escapes me right now. I know Ursula is more dark chocolate than saccharine, if one is to seriously think about it.
Comment by gaelikaa — December 31, 2009 @ 17:25 |
Gaelikaa, it’s beautiful, poetic, melodic: “A flower not been born to waste its sweetness on empty air”. People in my life, even those who find me highly irritating at times, will agree with you; and my son thinks it an apt epitaph when the time comes.
And yes, you are quite right, in this house there is little sugar, a lot of spice and all the chocolate consumed is a strong 75 or 85 % of cocoa solids (which, incidentally, is good for you).
U
Comment by Ursula — January 2, 2010 @ 11:25 |
Ramana,
You are definitely missed when your server is down!
gaelikaa,
Thank you for taking time out to comment here. Our hearts are with you.
I love the idea of Ursula as dark chocolate.
Comment by Cheerful Monk — December 31, 2009 @ 20:14 |