An email circulated S-‘s work yesterday, asking for knitted squares to turn into blankets for Japan. Naturally, I dropped everything else I was doing and began the best exercise in procrastination I have ever come across. rummaging through my wool pile in search of off-cuts in similar thicknesses, unravelling things I made but have never been happy with, and trying to make as many squares in as short a time as possible is really, really good fun.

I don’t mean to trivialise the whole reason the email went out, but the challenge of this task is actually really enjoyable, especially when coupled with the caking for red nose day tomorrow. Speaking of which, I’m going to go and boil my orange…


Orange boiled and the cake – which actually called for 2 oranges and 6 eggs – went into the oven looking like soup. I only added one orange too, and some oats to bulk it all out. Now that it’s baked, it feels like quiche and smells like eggs and I haven’t dared to taste it yet. This is one of those weeks where things just don’t go according to plan.

Aside from the cake, my phone died the day I was taking Charlie in for new tyres so I swung past Tesco on the way to town with the idea of buying a cheap phone and car charger, however in the car park the tempestuous old Nokia came back to life. Not necessarily bad, but not according to plan. Then there was a mix up with my maternity pay – again, the outcome was very nice but it threw off my plans quite considerably.

I feel there’s a life-lesson here. If something doesn’t go quite the way you wanted it to, then that doesn’t automatically mean it’s turned out for the worst. Some of the best things in life can be happy accidents. I don’t think that’s the case with my cake, but it may apply to the giant sweater I’m knitting, or the haircut I booked on a whim for this lunchtime. I don’t know what’s happened to me – it sounds like I’m becoming almost optimistic in my old age. How out of character.