Wednesday, 4 March 2009

Moving, part 3, felt and choir practice

That previous post was very dull indeed. Sorry about that. Now it has been said, and hopefully I won't be moving again for a long, long time. I want to be here for a year!

Yesterday evening I managed to excavate my piano. There is also a space in the middle of the living room floor: my re-arranging skills are resulting in a great tessellation of furniture. You would no doubt be amazed (or perhaps bemused) at some of the corners I have created.

Paniceth not.* The landlord will be coming this evening to remove all of the furniture that belongs to him (with the exception of the Lovely Chest of Drawers, which is taking up too much place in our bedroom and may be evicted, should we be unable to find a suitable home for it. This may, however, simply end up in another room within the house), thus leaving space for us to arrange our own furniture in a more advantageous manner. Once this has happened I can move my piano into the front room and move the settee from its precarious position upright next to the bed and into the living room. There might then be space in the bedroom for a wardrobe, and I can then start to unpack my suitcases full of dresses.

On Saturday, I should be going into Town. I am teaching a feltmaking workshop on Monday and need to try to obtain enough foam pads to ensure that people are at a substantially reduced risk of stabbing their own legs repeatedly (although only the really stupid ones** are likely to stab themselves repeatedly, and they probably deserve it. Who doesn't learn from being stabbed and take steps to avoid it in future?) by inserting a big thick thing in between the needle and their legs, and I should also be able to take a load of old clothes to the charity shop which will also help the mess in the bedroom (or perhaps we will have moved the charity shop box to a different room by this point). *** While I am in town I shall, of course, have to obtain more stuff. Other than the foam pads, I also want wire so that people can make frames for their felt creatures. I think that I have enough wool to go round (I just ordered some in varying shades of brown, in case they want to make conventional animals. It has just occurred to me that I have no black and should probably try to get hold of some black wool and also some beads for eyes. Thank you, blog, for making me think), and I have also purchased enough needles for up to 20 people to make their own felt creations. I am a bit low on scissors, but that should be easy enough to sort out.

I am dreading letting the marauding hordes get their hands on my wool selection, though. Although I am generally a very untidy person indeed, I am ever so slightly obsessive about making sure that every single wool is back in the appropriate bag as soon as I have finished my felting session (unless I am working in a single colour - it is acceptable to have one small piece of one colour left out). I think that I will end up with lots of bitty pieces of wool put back in bags containing very similar shades, which just will not do. Having said that, hopefully most people will not be using very many different colours, and will be able to keep track of where their bag goes. I think that I have about 40 different colours now, and there are only about four sets of two colours which are very hard to tell apart from each other. Unless, of course, there are colour-blind people present.

Tonight is the first choir practice in which I am required to play the piano. The pieces I am learning are not ready. One of them cannot be ready in time, but I may be able to force the other one into shape between the end of work and the practice. I do hope so; otherwise it will be very embarrassing.


*Not really a smooth flow from one paragraph to another here. Also, is that the correct form of panic for a plural?

**I include myself in this number.

***Was that the worst and most confusing sentence I ever wrote? I do hope so, insofar as I hope that I have never written anything worse than that.

2 comments:

Lisa Moon said...

Ahh... I read this post earlier and must have dreamt I commented on it! LOL!

So glad things are puttering along and I wish I were there for your felting workshop! I, too, would benefit greatly from the foam pad for the lap, however, as someone with CRPS, I'd be hard pressed to guess if it was the needle or the CRPS stabbing me! (HA! Gallows humour, or whatever you call it.).

I am rather fond of making words to my liking, whether or not they are 'correct'. I liked paniceth not, but it made me want to pronounce it pan-i-seth; perhaps we could spell it panicketh?

I hope you survived the marauding hoardes sufficiently; I suspect this is so as I see newer posts ahead... good!

I write some pretty incoherentish things, so I find I gather your gist - usually - unless I'm feeling espcially dense (not infrequent, sorry to say).

Also, I read your posts with a lovely English accent in my head. It's probably not YOUR accent, however, it also affects how I write my replies - also 'thought' with a bit of an English accent! How's that for odd??!

Abi said...

I am now imagining you reading my posts with a fake old London accent - like on Mary Poppins. Is that a lovely English accent? Mine is slightly Northern, but not from a specific Northern area. I have been accused of coming from Down South, but the way I pronounce "cup" (with more of an "uh" sound in the middle, as opposed to something more "a"-like) suggests otherwise.

One of the things that I like to do is to teach German people how to pronounce words with "u" in the middle. The words I teach them sound very strange - suddenly this great big Northern word pops up in the middle of everything else they are saying. I have now modified my approach because although it is sometimes amusing, it isn't really very kind, and I do actually like my German friends. That is why I help them with their pronunciation. English is too irregular!