Last Monday, Caro Mio and Darling went to Lidl first thing and bought me a sewing machine on the day one of their regular special offers began. They just made it, as there were only two left one hour after opening...
When I go home after work I opened the box, and made sure that the machine worked just by plugging it in, but it was too late to start threading it and trying it out; that had to wait until the weekend.
So yesterday I took out the machine, and for the first time ever in my life I wound a bobbin, and discovered that a sewing machine uses both top and bottom thread! After reading the user manual, I cut a piece of scrap fabric, and tried a few of the settings with a contrasting colour thread. The results were not very pretty, but I felt ready to move on to bigger and better things.
After dinner I made a toilet roll cover using pieces of fabric and ribbon I had already. It took a bit of unpicking and re-sewing before I got it right, but I'm mighty proud of the result.
Today was a day for random thoughts, glancing at ideas and topics before the next one slipped into view...
I missed the bus to the station this morning, which means I had to walk there in the rain, the heavy rain which soon had soaked through my raincoat. My hands, my arms, my back, my legs, my hair... all dripping with rain. But then this evening as I crossed the grass verge outside the estate, I caught the smell of the earth which had absorbed all this water, and it was so rich and pleasant I smiled.
I've finally been handed the opportunity to get the experience I need at work which I can use to qualify as an accountant, but after today I'm afraid it will be pulled from under me... by subterfuge... I need to make sure I remain involved, and fight my corner. I've been on this project for 6 months, and I know it inside out... or should I bow out gracefully and concentrate on MIS, and testing, which would be enough work for any one person anyway? Trying to juggle work-life balance and career path is proving to be tough.
Today I've vacillated between feeling optimism and pessimism about my physical self. I forget most of the time that I am obese, due to years of comfort eating, and picture myself as svelte and sensual, especially when I'm listening to music that makes me feel like dancing. I know I eat too much crap (especially peanuts with chocolate and M&S chocolate chip cookies) and drink way too much Diet Coke (up to two litres a day... I know... I'm embarrassed to admit it). The only answer will be more exercise - but who wants to get out of bed early to go cycling? And after I dinner is the only chance I get to be with Darling, so that hour is sacrosanct. Though maybe the two of us should exercise... I should get him to dance with me :) already one of his favourite games! Ok, tomorrow night we'll get the bank holiday weekend off to a great start with a classic from my youth... get your funk on y'all!
PS can't let today go without mentioning Berlusconi finally getting his just desserts - we told Darling at dinner tonight he was watching history on the news... It was all that was on the Italian evening news...
I was wondering today about where the word "darling" comes from. I've found myself using it a lot lately - my son is now my Darling with a capital D, and I address him as such rather than using his name more and more often.
When I was a girl, I wanted to grow up to be a Lady. My idea of a Lady was of someone very proper, always well dressed, and ready to handle every situation thrown at her. Part and parcel of that was of course using the correct vocabulary of which "darling", or rather, "dahhling", was a highlight. After a while though I forgot to try and use it, and discovered it was harder than I had imagined to grow up. All ideas of Ladyhood were soon shelved.
I never really used any terms of endearment with my family, and the only one I applied to anyone else was "honey" or "hon". So when I met my husband, I unleashed all my creativity on him. I call him "Amore", "Caro Mio", "Caro" or even "Husband". He doesn't like it when I call him that :) I rarely call him by his name though, unless it's a serious conversation.
When our son was born, Husband (let's refer to him as that here) immediately started giving him nicknames and using terms of endearment. The one that stuck was "trottolino", which is why I am now "trottolina". I on the other hand borrowed these, and didn't have my own private way of addressing Darling. Well, I do now! Even though he says to me (at three and half years old):
The station house restoration is finished, and the ticket office has finally moved from the portacabin. It's so clean and still smells of fresh paint...
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