My husband has just gone off on one of his little jaunts down the caves in Kent to pretend to be a warrior. Really. (Yes, I know). It's something he's been doing with his mates for the past 20 years or so. I'm just hoping it doesn't continue much past when he'll get his free bus pass. Yesterday's preparation involved hacking apart his chain mail and then creating new ties for it with dressing gown cord purchased from John Lewis. (I did point out to him that he could perfectly well make his own with a few lengths of yarn and even left out the instructions, but apparently unless I did it, he was going to purchase something. So he bought the cord.) It was most disconcerting having what looked like a medieval soldier wandering about the flat, I can tell you.
I managed a few more rows on the E. Z. jacket. For some reason I'm getting slower. Although it may have been because I didn't start it until about 8.30pm last night having spent most of the day cleaning the kitchen. I had been putting off cleaning the oven because there is no door to our kitchen and we have two very inquisitive kitties:
Gus
Nelson (to follow)
They really wouldn't have been above nosing about in oven cleaner. I didn't fancy having to explain that one to the vet. Or the R.S.P.C.A., come to that. This procrastination, in the name of animal welfare, however, had been going on too long. (We moved in on 3rd December 2005. This is the first time I've cleaned the oven. Thank God no one called Kim & Aggie, that's all I'm saying.) It took me four goes to even get it down to vaguely normal and I really ought to have another try today. The oven shelves had to be seen to be believed. After half an hours scrubbing I gave up and asked Marc to do it. I think my arms were about to fall off.
Anyway, even though there is not much progress on the jacket - at least my kitchen looks vaguely respectable. Which is just as well, because I've promised Marc a chocolate cake when he gets back from Chislehurst.
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