Beth, I had never thought of the term “haricot beans” in that sense. You’re absolutely right. I am always amused by “residential hotel” and “ophthalmic optician” – both common phrases here. I shall henceforth add “haricot beans” to that choice list.
Good progress on the hat. I got stuck in one of those sloughs yesterday where I would measure, and find that it was a whisker less than the desired 6”, so I would knit two or three rounds and then find that it was still a whisker less than 6” and so on for quite a long time. It finally measured 6 ½” (that’s fine) so I switched back to a circular needle and to st st and should have a picture tomorrow.
I’ve been thinking a bit about the Curmudgeon’s remarks about cardigans and fitting (down at the bottom of the current, Nov. 15, post). I suspect she’s right, not just about herself, that cardigans are what to go for. I am quite taken with the current fashion for cardigans which button only at the top (or, less frequently, at the bottom) and don’t attempt to encompass the bosom entirely.
Look at this – this time you’ll have to scroll down to Nov. 15 – from the Zimmermaniacs blogspot. The very perfection of fit (and of standing up straight, which I don't do). I want one of those.
But that is in the remote, post-Princess future.
I dispatched a preliminary package to Greece yesterday; that’s something done. There was an interview with Shirley Conran in the Waffy yesterday of such surpassing silliness that it sticks in the mind. She is one of those woman briefly famous for Simplifying Life. Now, in old age, she is Simplifying Christmas. Don’t travel, she says. It’s a terrible time of year for travelling. (So – no family gatherings?) Throw catalogues away as soon as they arrive. (So – all the shopping to be done on foot?) Best of all – don’t send Christmas cards, or if you must, make them yourself. (Make them: that’s supposed to help?)
As for shopping, for two items on my list this year I knew exactly, precisely, what I wanted. Everyone who has ever shopped will know that that is a recipe for utter exhaustion concluding in failure. In fact, for one of the items, my husband and I had already been through that process. (It’s his present.) On-line, it takes ten minutes. Shirley Conran does not seem to know about computers.
The great news is that James and his family, who will be here for a few days before The Event, propose hiring a people carrier and all travelling together to Loch Fyne, where Christmas is to be spent. At a stroke that removes a major prob from my agenda before I had even attempted to solve it. (busses to Cairndow? Trains to Arrochar? How much will we be carrying? Buggered if I’m going to drive.) Happy days!