annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Busy Late again, but never mind. Yesterday I was super-knackered after therapy and couldn't organise my thoughts at all. Today has been mega hectic, but here I am having a go. This evening I've been at sewing group which is a beautiful thing. The timing is shit - Thursday night 7-9, when I have yoga 5.30-6.30 and then have to drive down the route right to the care home but the other side of the wall. I get there bang on 7 so that's good, but feelings well up about that familiar road, the turning off, seeing the upper floor of the care home over the wall. My girl, my baby girl, how can I carry on without you? But I do, don't I? I get my big bag of fabric and my sewing machine and lug them into a room that is entirely different, unconnected with Sam and all that, and there's lovely J, breaking into a big smile when she sees me, and off we go, making good progress on this mad coat I'm creating. I love being there, in the back room of a day centre for visually impaired adults. Collapsible tables, quickly sorted. Bare walls, painted white, clean, nice. A group of women, mostly middle aged, but one mother and daughter combo. I sit, pinning the coat's sleeve into the armhole, easing it round, listening to the conversations going on around me. Complaints about the instructions on how to install an invisible zip. "A marginally less visible fucking zip!" Discussions on the best kind of summer dress. Admiration for a tiny table-top ironing board, perfect for pressing open seams. Laughter about J's tin of dressmaking pins that are almost all bent out of shape, though she can use them easily, with a little twist here and there. Towards the end of the session J tells me she's got a Friday morning art class going on there, with some of the women from the sewing group and a few others, which I'm welcome to come along to if I like. She says she started it with a friend when she saw how it was going to go at the recovery centre and that they're only having people they like there, so that was lovely, to be told that. Which reminds me of a message I got yesterday, from an ex-student, which I'll copy here, so I can remember it in later times when I'm not expecting it:
I won't get to see it as I'm not keen enough to rush up to London - I've seen a couple of versions of it over the years and that's all I want, though I do love McAvoy quite a lot. But I can't remember a teacher of poetry though I love that he remembers me this way. I spent a stupid amount of money on cashmere and merino wool (yarn) today, in a range of beautiful colours that I am going to use to make a patchwork cardigan. I'm doing a practice run on leftover bits as there are complicated techniques involved that I want to get right before I fuck up all this gorgeous wool. This is part of my cunning plan to not be twatting about on my phone all evening. Ha - my phone. It's full. I can't begin to understand why I have the icloud for storage when it only replicates what's on the phone - you can't put stuff on the cloud and delete it from the phone. So I have stupid numbers of photos (OK, 48, 883), most of them rubbish, but many of Sammie and I can't sort through them all so we're (when I see we I mean Bloke) putting them on the server or the hard drive or some fucking place which took about 20 hours to get them from there to somewhere else and then they had to... I don't even know but that was all day today and he's still saying don't delete them yet and I can't message or take photos. But today I am grateful for a comforting time with my friend SB and that she had a great time singing in a new choir. 1:22 a.m. - 04.03.22 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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