I always feel completely and utterly betrayed when I get sick. Like my body’s failed me on some level or another. Mind you, my body probably feels exactly the same way about my slave-driving ways and this is something along the lines of a showdown at high noon. Clearly, I haven’t left my days of burnout behind me. But it did come as quite a shock when my Tuesday morning visit to the Doctor to check on my shoulder turned into a stern telling-off at how ill I actually am and orders for a week’s bed rest. Wait. What? I want to say oops, but instead I’ll say let this be a lesson to those who doggedly persist and don’t take time out.*
So. I’m at home. And actually being a good girl. Not being able to breathe will do that to a person. Tired lungs are not happy lungs. Coupled a few construction sites in earshot and an international competition of the odd shaped ball (as well as the shenanigans that go with it outside my window), and you can bet your bottom dollar that I’m counting the hours until my weekend in the warm and sunny Bay, with nothing but birdsong and my puppy to bug me. It is also probably the best week for me to be stuck doing nothing work-wise, though this is proving quite a difficult exercise in attempting to switch the brain off. Especially when it appears to be stuck in overdrive. Go figure.
So I’ve watched some Futurama. And the RSC Hamlet (DT just remains the Best. Hamlet. Ever. Branagh and Gibson need to take notes on how it should be done). And the BDM. And I’ve read. And a little knitting. And I’m watching the festival of the odd-shaped ball. Although, I may actually start getting excited about it come the knock-out stages. There’s just been so much rugby this year, it’s almost been too much. Bring on the President’s Cup and the cricket!
So yes, knitting. Not really much to see.
That’s my re-beginning of the Old Port sleeve after having to frog back 11″ of cabling due to mismatched needles. The Just under half the cable chart for my second Kells sock, and the lacy ribs sock I’m knitting up in Knitsch Yarns for ma maman – the colours of that of Dutch Irises, and very her. Today is going to be more adventures in sleeveland. I want at least the Kells and Old Port finished by the 23rd October. That’s the aim anyway.
What else have I been up to? I’ve been very cultural. After the fantastic WOW show, I went and saw the NZ Opera’s double bill Cavalleria Rusticana and Pagliacci which was fantastic. Saw some old familiar faces in the chorus from my time in Dunedin as well as some more familiar faces of friends. The leads were wonderful and the seat really was front and centre so I will definitely be doing that again. And next week there’s more fun with tickets acquired for the NZSO’s performance of Beethoven’s 9th, and the process of snaffling tickets to Brahmissimo has begun (so very excited). I always maintained that I would take every opportunity to see the shows and the orchestra and as much music as possible while in the Capital, and I’m not letting myself down there.
As for the mystery plans for a birthday ending in zero… I’m thinking of scratching a few things of my bucket list in one fell swoop. There are some places I want to go and things I want to achieve, the question is… which option? I need to start saving some pennies. That much is for certain. Turkey has been mentioned. As has Jordan and Morocco. Or Kilimanjaro or the Camino de Santiago. Many choices. Stay tuned as the plan develops. Of course, Aida at the Sydney Opera House is almost a given. It should be considered obligatory. (I’ve always had a soft spot of Aida. I think it’s possibly Verdi’s best opera, but that’s just me).
So I will leave you with my remarkably small collection of stash I have here in the Capital. Not quite enough for me to consider rolling in (that’s still the hoard in the cupboard in the Bay), but a lovely balanced palette of mostly sock yarn (which isn’t stash). Of course, we’re not going to thinking about the value of it all, are we? (That’s enough to make me break into a cold sweat).
Right. Time for more tea and tackling that sleeve…
*But knowing me, don’t expect me to take my own advice either.