This is going to be a really short post because I'm on pain medication.

Because I had my wisdom teeth removed this weekend. The most irritating thing ever, that was. So I've been surviving for the past few days on yoghurt, chocolate pudding, and pastina. The good news is that the swelling has gone down and my face no longer appears rectangular, although I still have a sort of chipmunk look. (Any previous thoughts I've had complaining about my face being too skinny have been rescinded.)

My uncle sent me flowers, which was very kind and resulted in a bunch of photos of the bouquet because I had nothing better to do all weekend.

It came with this bear. His name is Edmund

Relearning

Look at me, remembering that it's Wednesday. What an accomplishment. But at any rate, I'm linking up with Ginny's Yarn Along again.

I have just dug out and semi-unpacked my yarn box and found the box that had my crochet hooks in it, which had me worried for awhile because I couldn't find it anywhere. And I have a lot of hooks. So this week, because I love working with thread, I have begun getting back into something I haven't done in ages: Irish crochet. It's wonderfully fun to make, because many of the motifs have a 3d aspect to them. (Such as that unfinished rose in the photo. When it's done it will have three layers.) It's basically multidimensional lace.

Right now I'm just making a sampler; I haven't done it in so long that I need to get into the habit. There's a technique to it, but hopefully it will be like riding a bicycle. The big thing so far has been reaquainting myself with the padding. I'm a traditionalist and don't believe in "cheating" (a.k.a. the modern method) so it's a necessary annoyance.

As for the reading, a friend of mine recently gave me this book by C.S. Lewis called The Discarded Image. As you can read in the tagline, it is "an introduction to medieval and renaissance literature", which is very much my thing. Everyone should read some old story-poetry (there must be a technical term for that, but I can't seem to remember it) at some point, in middle English. With notes of course, because some words are completely different, but it is so much fun. But I digress. The book I am actally reading is also brilliant so far, which is up to about the third chapter. I've only just started, although it seems to be one of those intelligent books that do not make for quick reading.

My goal is to keep posting with the Yarn Along on Wednesdays, so I don't end up swamped with sampler progress that I never put up. We'll see how that goes.

Slán go fóill,
Giselle

Musicianing.

I had an orchestra concert today. We've been calling it our "spring" concert, but let's face it. It's summer. It was grand though. I took the above photograph while waiting before the show. The lighting was too strong from the window so the brightness was ridiculous, which explains such a strong filter.

The orchestra played the second half, after the intermission, so I got to sit and enjoy the first half. The classical guitar ensemble played, and a string quartet. Then two of the students played one of my favourite Beethoven pieces, the "Eyeglass Duet". The last piece of the first half was a Haydn trio, which was also fantastic. I really enjoy listening to Haydn's music, although I find playing it (on the piano anyway) rather irritating.

When it was our turn, I was far less nervous than I had expected. I have discovered since I began to play with the orchestra that I much prefer playing with other people. I do love the spotlight, if I'm being honest, but I like to have other people in it with me. 

We did three pieces: L'estro Harmonico Op. 3 No. 8 by Haydn, a "Pirates of the Caribbean" medley, and "When I'm Sixty-four" because that's how old our conductor is this year.

Mainly it was a lot of fun just to be there playing, but it was also nice to do well. I did better than any of my practices, except for the one section that I always did perfectly. That's the part I messed up. There's some kind of irony there that I find amusing.

When we stood at the end to take our bow, my bow (not the action, the violin bow) slipped forward and knocked into the head of the person in front of me. Oops. Occupational hazards: we do have them. I was nearly stabbed in the eye with someone's bow once. (And there was the time several years ago when my mother switched my piano bench around without my knowing, so when I went to open it I just flipped it over onto my foot.)

 So yes, musicianing can be dangerous. And I've had people in grocery stores make jokes about my having a machine gun in my violin case. But it's alright, we can take it. We're tough.

And yes, it's true, we're also a bit crazy.

Sherlock's glamour shot.

In which moving is a pain, but instead of whining about it I decide to talk about other things.

So. First of all, I made this little ribbon substitute for a friend's birthday last month. I was shipping her gift to Tennessee, and was reluctant to either send it off with no bow or one that might be squashed between states. Anyhow it turned out rather well, and I wanted to use it for a yarn along post but I kept missing Wednesdays.

Imagining this much tea in one place nearly short-circuited my brain with happiness. 

Wednesday was my birthday, so I went to the museum and took pictures of old cars and hotel registers and things. It was great. I hadn't been since they built a new building for it a few years ago, which had made me feel like a fraud of a museum-lover. To be honest though, I think I liked it better the way it was. Not that it isn't fun and wonderful now, but before it was just as fun and wonderful, although smaller. And it was very quaint and inviting. The atmosphere of the new building is, to my mind, too industrial.

And on Thursday I took Mishka to the fountain park for the first time. He was intimidated by them at first but warmed up to the idea quickly, though not quickly enough to prevent his stuffed elephant from getting soaked. It was a successful outing. Mishka was well behaved and adorable, and my display of healthy-but-good-tasting snack packing and child management skills made me feel like super-nanny. Which is just a couple of steps below Mary Poppins.

...

In other news, I had planned a giveaway for this week in honour of my birthday, but I've just moved and don't know where anything is. So that will happen as soon as I've found it.

Also, I have ordered a Miss Juniper Kitty softie kit from Alicia of Posie Gets Cozy. Though I have (very) meager sewing skills I have not yet begun to panic, even though this means I shall have to make frequent trips to the fabric store to use their sewing machines. I am buoyed up on a wave of completely unjustifiable self-confidence. The recipient is still undecided, but as I shopped I found myself listing all the little girls in my parish. "I could give it to Hannah. Or Abbie. Or Ava or Giovanna... Goodness if I turn out to be good at this I can order more and make one for each!" Oh my, such enthusiasm. We'll see how it's holding up when I have to do the sleeves.

Surviving Mother's Day, finally.

Sunday was Mother's Day here. The maple syrup candy was well received, to say the least, and I found a card that says "Mom, you were right about everything" on the front and "there, I said it" on the inside, which sums up our relationship rather well.

That morning at church after the liturgy we had a little party in the hall, which was lovely. (There is a new family who just joined the parish, and the grandmother is absolutely brilliant at planning these things.) There was lunch and cake, and the pastor put on his go-to party music. It's a polka cd, and something of a parish joke by now. They also had a tray of these pretty drinks on the table, each with a strawberry in it. I couldn't tell whether they were iced tea or punch, but I was incredibly thirsty and didn't much care. So I picked one up and took a large sip.

It was wine.

This is where I mention that, while I am old enough to drink alcohol in almost every country in the world, the one I live in is not one of them.

Oops. It was quite a shock actually, to someone expecting iced tea.

But luckily one doesn't usually die of embarrasment, and I survived. I'm very glad I did, because I ended up going out to dinner with my family. Now, my poor dad has tried to take my mom out for Mother's Day nearly every year since I was born. Different places, different cities and states, but no matter what we end up doing it has always been a complete and utter disaster, often of grand proportions. Last year we tried staying in, and even that didn't go well.

So this year we decided to go to one of the local Thai restaurants, because it's close, the people are absolutely lovely and recognise us since we've been there so many times, and we hadn't tried it for Mother's Day yet. (It also happens to be my favourite restaurant in existence.) My dad called ahead to check if they were closed or packed. We got ourselves ready. We drove over. We arrived, were seated, and had dinner.

And nothing terrible occurred.

Miracles are real.