I have a new, improved weather forecasting system. Forget the weather station with all its gadgets that’s mounted on the wall in the garden. Let me introduce you to the eco-friendly twenty-first century, one hundred per cent accurate forecast. All you need is a cat. Preferably a sleek, beautiful mini panther rather than a fluffy black and white Maine Coon cat cross who has so much fur that he operates on a timer delay because he doesn't realise it's raining for about ten minutes.
I am lucky enough to be owned by such a magnificent creature so all I have to do when I want to check the weather is walk into my sewing room (which is gradually coming together as we use and sort and pass on) and look in my sewing basket. Not, you will note on the thick cushion with its patchwork cover that's by the radiator and where it catches the sun, but my sewing basket, where the pieces go that are ready to go through the sewing machine. You’ll note that I’m not daft because I have a pretty tea towel over the top of those pieces so that any cat hair is shed on that. So, I can see that the weather is not going to be good.
The problem comes when I want to do some sewing. Say, for instance, I wanted to finish this organised crazy quilt top. (Quite an achievement, right? Take something whose whole point is that it isn’t organised and organise it!) You know who owns who when you seriously consider leaving it till the cat has moved, but I am made of sterner stuff than that. I’ve got good reflexes too because I didn’t sew over her paw when she decided to investigate the needle going up and down.
“Catling.” I warned ever so gently. She looked at me in that cat way that says ‘You’re so not going to move me.’ I didn’t, but I carried on sewing, ever so slowly and ever so carefully, at least until I’d finished the quilt top. The next step will be to lay it out on the bed, over a lovely fluffy layer of fleece and then fasten it together with safety pins before I embroider over all the seams. I’m planning to use white cotton Perle and go happily nuts with the stitches. Probably lots and lots of stars cos it’s a Christmas one.
Who wants to guess who’ll sleep on top of it while I’m trying to do that and when I’m quilting it? No, I didn’t think you’d need to, and I love her and her son so much that I’ll let them, and describe it as comfort tested and wash it at the end.
So that’s it for now. Nothing more than a little bit of pure silliness in a week when there hasn’t been a lot to smile about in the news here in England. There was a moment of pure recognition though when I read a talk Neil Gaiman gave to an association of readers where he talked about reading as escape and the only people who want to stop an escape would be jailers.
And how’s that for a thought? It certainly made me proud to write escapist fiction. Have a great week…
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