I eventually got sick of waiting for the guys at the antique centre to call me back about whether or not my precious washstand was available and decided to nip over there with Charlie Micra to see what the deal was. As per my request, they’d managed to find a new handle for the drawer and had just got it sorted that morning. As a result the stand was split into its marble top and spindly-legged bottom, just by the door. As I’d parked not two meters away, I felt it too good an opportunity to miss and asked the guys in charge to see if they could fit the two halves into the back of the Micra. And they could. And the suspension didn’t buckle under the weight.
Delighted, I set off for home, only realising as I hit the dual carriage-way that my little 1.2L engine would be revving itself silly to hit any sort of speed over 50mph. As a result, we travelled home at a rather respectable pace for once and were overtaken by three lorries. It was like driving my old Polo again – slow, steady, and with the weight of a small tank.
The precious wash-stand which I inexplicably fell in love with. It's not my usual style at all, but something about the colours - and perhaps the almost patchwork nature of the pattern - just meant I had to have it.
The lamp in the picture, incidentally, was bought for a tenner at the antique fair on Sunday whilst the shade came from a discount store in Newmarket. It ended up only costing fifteen pounds in total. Which is very good because the wash stand cost considerably more. In fact, I couldn’t really afford it if truth be told. Sometimes though, you just have to say something naughty and dismissive, wave your hand and insist, “I’ll just live off nettle soup for a few weeks.” Anyway, the positioning in the photo isn’t the stand’s final destination. I’m waiting for S- to finish work so we can drill holes for a shelf for his speaker before getting the stand and my sewing machine into position.
My other great victory of the day was making two knitted mice before lunch. You see, up in the vegetable patch there’s a little family of mice which have made their maze of tunnels beneath the herb box. Once a day my neighbour’s kid – whose birthday it is tomorrow – goes to take a look at them. Sadly, my cat does the same and has now eaten at least three of kiddo’s little friends. Because their entrails are currently littering my dining room floor, I thought I’d make a vague attempt at replacing the mouse population with these knitted offerings…
Note the corn behind these two - thankfully it was in a glass jar so they couldn't eat it.
Kiddo seemed to like them and took great delight in being able to throw them across the field. Husband was also very interested so I think I’m going to have to knit him a pair of his own. In other knitting news, I’m taking a break from the sweater for today for the simple reason that the size of it caused a sobbing fit last night. With only one arm left to make, I got S- to try it on and it looked as though he were swimming in a tent. On closer inspection, and after frantically consulting ravelry, I have decided to finish the mammoth task after all and try to shape it into a slightly more favourable size by washing it and drying it flat.
Finally, you may notice there are pictures again. This is because the marble of the washstand is cooling the laptop and giving the crazy-loud fan something of a break. As long as I don’t do anything too taxing, the death rattle seems to be coming in shorter, less infuriating bursts…