A long time ago*, in a far distant land**, it was a dark and stormy night. Two women, heads bowed down against the horizontal rain made their way cautiously across the bricks through the black night. Thoughts of the night when Pa Ingalls nearly didn't make it home for Christmas and when Esther only made it through the snowstorm on the steppe because her mother was waiting for her on the road flashed through the bigger woman's mind. Even though it was only rain, only dark and not very far at all really. Inside the house it was warm and dry and cosy. There was a blazing fire, hearty food to eat and excellent company in which to eat it. And afterwards there was to be wine and knitting. Who could wish for more?
Well, the stork could. She wished for her bottom back. Until recently she had been naked but now she was resplendent in legwarmers, a scarf, and a delightful new bonnet. She even held a fish in her beak. Her friend the cactus was sporting spiffy looking new attire. She couldn't help thinking that her glorious attire might have come at a great price. Perhaps during the fitting of the cactus hat, the ground might have rippled like water, like mud sliding and slopping and caused her concrete arse to shatter and fall to the ground.*** She knew she was getting old and that her arse was full of cracks and therefore she really shouldn't be blaming anyone, but really she wouldn't have minded holding onto her bottom.***
Hey, (shrugs off complicated third person narrative voice) once again I had a great time at craft weekend. Thank you to all the lovelies who made it such a pleasure. It was one of the most relaxing weekends I've had in like forever and as a result I have very little to show for it. A vest which I like, some bad tracksuit pants that I can barely bring myself to wear, some knitting that needed to be ripped and redone (serves me right for knitting under the influence, you would have thought I would have learned from the three sided granny square incident of 2008) and a toy kangaroo made from a tablecloth print which was meant to be quick and easy but wasn't. Kangaroo is now called Rose and has been lovingly accepted into the tribe of the five year old. Oh, and I finished the turn a square baby hat with the not so jogless stripes and it now belongs to the lovely little Bronte who was born on Wednesday. And as Grace says, she's so adorable.
*why yes, I am a bit behind in my blogging.
** not that far, but it seems a long way off now and why limit yourself to one storytelling cliche when you can have several?
*** in a roundabout way, I'm looking at you Ms Tania!