I have just noticed that so far this year I have written 94 blogs. I guess that means that I have no choice but to aim for the century before 31st December, which in theory should not be too difficult to achieve. In practice though, shall I opt for the easy way out and just post 6 different entries consisting entirely of photographs, or would that just be a blatant cop out? It would seem that my OCD tendencies are taunting me with something of a conundrum. What shall I write about?
I could do a girly recipe section I suppose and make up some weird names for some well-known dishes. How about Eton Ness (mashed up meringue with cream and chopped strawberries)? I think that idea is a non-starter – it would be scraping the bottom of the barrel somewhat.
Alternatively, I could go for the wifely prerogative of lovingly poking more fun at my husband, but that is a bit passé now (although I am not saying that I will never do so again – perish the thought. Anyway, I am sure there will be times when it would be an absolute sin not to).
I could discuss the pros and cons of knitting Fair Isle jumpers, but as I have never actually knitted one it would be rather futile of me to try and wax lyrical about such an exercise. Mind you, I did knit myself a pink (yes pink - good gracious) tracksuit once from a pattern in 19 magazine. It started out as a pretty nifty affair! Unfortunately, though, I am a very loose knitter so every time it was washed it stretched and I ended up using it as a rather odd and tatty pair of pyjamas. Whilst quite warm in the winter months I would not have wanted to be seen wearing it by anyone other than my close family, especially after it collected the odd ink stain here and there from my artistic efforts with my sketch pad and drawing pens! Oh my, I AM talking about knitting after all.
Jon will no doubt comment that my blog today is not really on topic. Hmm well, I did vaguely mention one ‘monster’ so hopefully he will let me off on this occasion. For now, I am off to soak some dried fruit with heavy-handed tablespoonfuls of brandy and rum – one for the fruit and two for me. Cook’s perks as I always say.
You can now cease sniggering over the thought of the slighty grubby pink tracksuit. Oh my, what must I have looked like? My cheeks redden with embarrassment. I will write about sewing woollen tassles on the bottom of flared trousers another time - fashion in the 70s was a wondrous thing to behold.
I bet you can't wait.....