wild blue yonder, and other sensations of lowering doom

[freckles_and_doubt]

Off for a weekend-long SCA event, almost immediately. Either I'm getting too old for this, or I'm still somewhat post-lurgified, but I find my feet rooting themselves more and more firmly to the floor as I dash around preparing, resulting in a sort of reluctant shuffle. I know it'll be a fun weekend with people of whom I am very fond, but there's a substantial chunk of my psyche that wants to be quietly at home, writing things, planting herbs, running up huge dial-up bills and talking to the cats.*

Help! when did I turn into an eccentric spinister granny? memo to self: next time, just say "no" to the Granny Weatherwax.

See y'all later.

* Oh, yes, and catching up on the huge pile of marking I didn't do last weekend owing to being a temporary plague-pit lacking both energy and brain.

p.s. In my absence, stock up. (This is cute, if curiously pointless).

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Just make peace with your inner granny, say I. But then I would, because I have. There's always a part of me that wants to be curling up with the knitting and the cats. Appalling, but there it is.

scroob (obviously)

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

Knitting! I so don't do knitting. It's my sole blow struck against the inner granny. Well, I don't do embroidery either, so I suppose that's potentially another blow.

I I am actually more or less at peace, mostly, with my inner granny, particularly since she very much tends to be an inner Granny Weatherwax. Memo to self: get rocking chair.

The only downside is that this seems to be dooming me to a single elderly existence, with cats.

[(Anonymous)]

I will continue to wave the knitting flag all by my lonesome, then. Don't know what you're missing, etc.

Oh but you should totally check out my latest Brilliant Marketing Campaign. No, really. I think you'd approve:
www.purlescence.co.uk/storytellers

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

I'll only be impressed if someone produces a pattern for glass slippers.

One of my favourite bits of the Professor Branestawm stories is the one where he invents a mad knitting machine that tries to knit a clockwork train. (So I do approve of knitting, I suppose, but only when it's completely surreal).

Antisocialite

[first-fallen.livejournal.com]

My Phleep is somewhat saddened by the fact that, at any given time, I'd rather be sitting in front of the TV knitting (with the memory of my cat). This somewhat goes against his inherent social-butterfly nature.

I am not Nanny Ogg, btw. Harrumph.