Saturday, 19 September 2009

Saturday Knitting

Knitwits Yarns

Saturday mornings are very relaxed in the Hopson household. We've never been the sort of family that dashes out of bed to take children to swimming or riding or anything frightfully enthusiastic. Saturdays are for lie-ins, gentle breakfasts and knitting.

Now the boys are teenagers, of course, it's bliss. No-one moves until at least 9am. Perhaps I should point out at this moment that Marie does the Saturday morning shift in the shop - otherwise, obviously, the shop would be shut.

In the pre-migraine days when I drank coffee, FB would quite often bring coffee into bed and we would sit and listen to Radio 4 and I would knit. When FB meets knitters he quite often extols the virtue of bamboo needles with the words, "they don't annoy me as much when she's knitting in bed". Some people may find this confusing but, really, it makes perfect sense - clicking needles clearly detracts from Radio 4.

Now I don't drink coffee (or tea), I'll often sit and knit when FB's in the shower and pottering around downstairs making breakfast, feeding cats, shouting at the boys etc, etc.

Last night when getting into bed I remember saying to FB, "damn, I've left my knitting downstairs" but was too tired to go and get it. I'd packed it all up but then had a bit of a fracas with Deidre when trying to put him out. The cats get locked into our back passage at night otherwise every Tom cat between our house and Penzance comes into the house and, charmingly, leaves his mark. Cat fights in the kitchen under your bed at 3am are not something you want to wake up to, trust me. Last night Deidre was out but he made a dash for freedom when we put Tabatha out so I then had to chase him upstairs (keep up please, Deidre is, obviously, a boy) and haul him back down, getting scratched for my pains. It was at this point that I left my knitting downstairs.

So, this morning - interesting bits and pieces on the radio, FB en route to the shower and I said, "I left my knitting downstairs last night". He put on his dressing gown and went and got if for me.

Is this the definition of love?

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