Big sulk

Not that I blame it. It gets bitten, then it gets hurty, then it gets manhandled into a basket, taken to the vet and stabbed with a syringe, and then it gets shut in and forced to use.... shudder... a litter box. (I think it's more fed up with the final point than any of the others, frankly; but we go back on Saturday morning and maybe they'll lift the curfew then...)

The Bug is better today, though (limping rather than hopping); thanks for good wishes expressed on the blog and at I Knit this evening! And yes, Katie - my manager was very cool and I am grateful for that. Over two and a half years, I've not had to take a day's leave at less than a week or so's notice, including for things like funerals; so while yesterday was pretty inconvenient in business terms, I think I'd built up a reasonable record for reliability and she did realise that as far as I was concerned it was a genuine emergency! I'm sure being a cat-owner helped with the understanding, too, though.

This morning at work was fun - met with a fellow taxonomy specialist and had a good natter about common problems; it's always good to know you're not alone (or just a lunatic); and to remember how good it is working in an organisation which takes information seriously. The afternoon was less fun, getting to grips with the new Parliamentary constituencies ahead of the election, and recording what the boundary changes/previous constituencies were - surprisingly complex.

And talking of constituencies, I was leafleted-in-person by one of the Parliamentary candidates for mine at the station in the village, at 6:56 this morning as I headed in hoping to catch up with my e-mail before my meeting. I can only commend his industriousness.

Big announcement

SO, they're finally off! The announcement that even the PM admitted was unsurprising has happened and the phony campaigning can finish.

And the question of the moment - which genius decided that rainbow plastic knitting needles would form the BBC's election logo??

Despite all the election hype or possibly because of it, I think my favourite quote is in Sam Wollaston's Guardian review of last night's University Challenge final - "The dude is Wikipedia with a pulse".

Oh, there was some knitting, too. My Dad had a birthday on Sunday, and socks were knitted. I'm very pleased with these. They're the Maze socks [Ravelry link] from Charlene Schurch's Sensational Knitted Socks and they were very good fun to knit. The black yarn is Hot Socks, bought in Vienna for a song last year; the self-striping is Kaffe Fassett (of course...). I used just under one 50g ball of the self-striping and just over one 50g ball of the black. The leg is mosaic-knitted, and the foot Fair Isle pinstripes.


And apparently he really likes them.

Thankyou, America...

... for living up to the ideals of possibility and progress many of us in Europe admire you for, and had almost forgotten in the events of the last several years ... *


And the speech was wonderful. I fell asleep at 1:30 with the radio on when everything was in the balance, and woke at the roar before the acceptance speech sometime before 5 - I had to go back this morning and look at the language again to see whether I'd been dreaming or not.


But this is a knitting blog and there's been hardly any knitting here for a while... So, on the first day of the New Era, I went to buy beads. And forgot to take my camera. Which was a shame, because Trafalgar Square had a huge group of very tired and emotional American youth who were still wearing their Obama gear and presumably had been up all night at one of the many bars and pubs which were hosting election night parties; and there were men on ladders cleaning pigeon poo off the Cenotaph in preparation for this weekend's wreath-laying; and one of the horses at Horseguards Parade was way less happy than usual about having its picture taken with flash and was getting a little fractious (there are now health and safety notices about horses being big kicky bitey things on occasion, right next to the horses, which must annoy them no end...); so it was all quite amusing. I walked up to Covent Garden to the Bead Shop (getting out with only £2.23 of damage for 100g of #6 beads...), and back, and had lunch, all in my designated hour - and bumped into an old college friend on the way back along Whitehall...



Oh yes; knitting. Anyway, the beads are here - with the yarn - and completely fail to illustrate the total perfection of the colour match. Yes, the beads look way too blue here - but they are right, honestly.

This is destined to be a shawl for my mother who has requested one - which is great. While it's a time-consuming thing (laceweight silk/cashmere and a reasonable size for keeping out draughts) it's also a much more pleasant use of time than wandering forlornly around shops hoping to spot the Perfect Thing... I'm still looking for a pattern, but she suggested the beads and the yarn colour. I spent an hour or so of my fretting-at-the-radio time last night in dyeing the yarn and I'm pleased with the way it turned out - it's a proper grey rather than being overly pinky or bluey or whatever. To my eyes, anyway.

(And to finish up, you have to admire a cat who muscles her way into a photo purely to look affronted; naming her Amelia Peabody was possibly a mistake.)

*Although, California, what do you think you're doing with Prop 8?

I'm saying nothing to jinx anything...

There have been pictures of The Boss shaking hands with the Obamas all over the media, and I flashed back to his shaking hands with John Kerry last time; and I remember 1992 in this country so well. So, no comment on today's really important event... I'm not going to be Tempting the Wrath of the Whatever from High Atop the Thing, as Aaron Sorkin put it so well in The West Wing's first election episode.


So just for a laugh, on a day when people seem to be going to be dealing with extraordinarily complicated voting forms, I'm going to let you see my Christmas knitting list. Names of recipients have been blocked off. And this was the state of it on Sunday night.

You ought to be able to embiggen it; but even if you can't, the number of empty boxes in there is enough to tell you that I'm Extraordinarily Behind Schedule...

So, at the moment:

Items needed, 18
Items cast on, 6
Items cast off, 4
Items finished, 3


Hmmmmnnn.


I'm hoping to knock one off the list tonight - better get on with it. Not sure how late I'm staying up...

Why Voting in Person Is Fun

I love this sign, seen outside my local polling station this morning at 7:45am when I went in to vote. It seems to sum up the combination of great earnestness and very slight incompetence which has always been the hallmark of the British polling station... I was slightly disappointed that the rickety plywood booths had been replaced by some rather smart modular ones; but the pencils were as awful as ever, so that was all right...

The contest in my home area is somewhat overshadowed by the contest in the area where I work. Only a Boris supporter has actually attempted to sticker me against my will, but I've had all the leaflets, and do hope that the people who do actually have a vote have got out there and used it. I'm going to follow my usual practice and ask any Londoner who whinges in the last four years who they voted for; anyone who didn't put a cross in any box (or indeed, two, if they felt like it... or voted for RON*, or drew a picture of a starfish...) has no voice afterwards, as far as I'm concerned...

I have all sorts of other things to blog including some fabulous yarn; but I get a bit irrational when it comes to elections. If I ruled the world and were to make anything at all compulsory, it'd be voting. If only to save the irritation of listening to non-voters droning on and on about the awfulness of "the system"...

Here endeth the rantette...

*I'm not sure how widespred RON is - but it used to stand for Re-Open Nominations in student elections. Occasionally RON would win...

Edited to add: Another reason elections are fun is the tremor of excitement in the voice of James Naughtie as he contemplates three hours of speculation and local results, and calculation of whether the results in Sunderland South or Little Snoring, if transposed to a General Election, would mean a landslide victory for the Mackem Party or Residents against the Eco-Town... he is the David Attenborough of election coverage, endlessly fascinated, endlessly amused, totally gobsmacked to be doing this job...