Had a simply lovely evening and didnt manage to take a single photo .. << dummy!
A physio visit has helped the ankle a great deal, and its not the tendon, its a stretched ligament and sprained ankle, so no wonder its so blessed painful and taking its own good time in mending.
Its got to be bad when the gin doesn't take the edge off the pain -
you know?
Anyways, Ive had another dyeing session and now have jam jars of fabric fixing and rolls of painted fabric........shibori-ing-ish.
Dont hold your breath though, if I wash them, they are bound to all end up pale and less vibrant, so I may just keep the dyes in them this time.
I watched the repeated Simon Scharma tv prog about the first 4000 years of British history.
He's a clever soul to fit all that, in an hour I reckon!
He's fascinating and makes history interesting, but I do find it hard to watch him. Its as if he has body tourettes, his shoulders twitch and his arms jig about, even when his hands are thrust into his pockets!
Yet he talks with such passion, knowledge and makes you want to learn what went on, when. So I watch him and feel as guilty as hell, that I am critical of the poor chap.
I am a wicked person I've decided lol
So having watched that and dyed my fingers nicely .. dohhh, I then took to lopping off the clematis's long tendrilly things, that were reaching for the heavens and reminding me of Triffids.
My clematis have established themselves so well out back, they are fast advancing along the fence tops, so its abit like they are going to grow down and swallow the whole garden up!
Seeing all the tendrils on the floor, ' such a shame to throw them in the compost ' springs to mind.........I Know! Sad or what!
So, I made a mug of redbush tea and sat out in the half light making wreaths out of the tendrills, as you do ......
They dry very nicely if you weave them round, when the tendrils are still supple and whippy. Just take off the larger leaves.
As it darkened closer to 10pm, there was a three quarter moon up there peeping at me, a bat came flying back and forth and the dogs chased eachother about playfully. It was mild enough to be comfortable sitting out there and there were no bothersome mozzies or midgies.
It was simply lovely out there........until a couple of pr*^~# started yelling and swearing at eachother in the side street nearby, having probably drunk too much and arguing on their way home from the pub.....
Some kind of fight ensued, big wheelie bins clattered to the floor. Some woman must have joined the frey screaming......"why'd you do that to my bins, you F' in this that and the other......"
Then what sounded like one of those little dwarfy dogs that live in handbags, joined in by constantly yapping.
It must have been running amuck because one of the women was screaming at the dog to " F'in come here" and they all occupied themselves like that for some 20 minutes or so.
Naturally it was all too exciting for me and when I recognised the urge in me, to go out there and slap someone, I came indoors ... I will look for blood and bodies in the morning, no rush.
Yes, and all this delightful dallying, because Kevin Costner, obviously too busy, didn't ring to arrange a night out.............
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