Is too darn hot. Yesterday and the day before also.

I have gardened three days this week.

We have a veg plot. And disgruntled hens due to ejection from said plot. (When we put the anti-chicken fence back up, M and I successfully trapped them inside and then had the joyful task of chasing them out again.)

The first sunflower seedlings are coming up, too--for this.

(In other news:

1. Broody hen still broody.


2. I completed a woolly knitted shawl on Monday. [I deny any causal connexion between the completion of warm garment and the sudden arrival of sunny weather.])

From the Grauniad: Birds made from Lego.

Wot no ravens!

...  I read the local news before I went to vote.

I was planning to vote Green. I shan't vote Green locally again.

When the sitting (so there's no way of dislodging him until he comes up for re-election) Green councillor swaps sides on polling day (to Labour, but it would be just as bad wherever he went) because he "wanted to be part of a bigger party that has real power to make a difference for people" to further his political career, I'm not voting for the Green candidate who's another young white man very likely on the political make.

Oops, that rules out all the candidates in my ward.

Oh well, back to  the blank protest vote.

(I'm really going to miss Margaret Wright.)

(I wonder how many folk will react similarly and switch from Green.)

Yesterday, we lost a cat. Mr Oswald vanished mid-morning. He was not in his cardboard box; Socks, having wandered around apparently non-plussed by Oz' absence, was in the box. Little was in a state of unconcern.

M and LL got rather het up about it, and searched the house top and bottom. M, despite the fact that I was the only person to have ventured outside (and then only after The Vanishment and with great care taken over the shutting of external doors), even stood on the front doorstep calling out for the missing boy.

Eventually, I found him (I am sneakier than the other humans in the house, tho' slower at it than the felines). And I left him to it. If Mr Oswald wanted leaving alone that much, who was I to argue. And, anyway, there was no chance of my winkling him out. Not from.... well, I'm not telling. But it's a goodie.

Long after lunch (smelly bacon) and the time of the rattling of kitty kibble, well after the search parties had given up and were merely fretting whilst I gloated, Mr Oswald reappeared. He was promptly swatted by Socks, and retreated to his cardboard box.

M and LL remain mystified. Tee, I say, hee!

I'm a trifle frustrated with all this sudden shouting about cancelling the Bahrain GP this weekend. That argument should have been had--and resolved one way or t'other--after the cancellation of last year's race, or during the planning of this season's schedule, or when the schedule was first announced. Now, or Friday in the House of Commons, or Thursday when folk noticed that first practice was starting, is too late.

Note, I'm not talking about those people in Bahrain who are taking to the streets knowing that, for that brief time whilst the fast cars and their drivers and all the press and even some foreign sports fans are in their country, the eyes of the world will be on them. People desperate enough to risk their lives to protest, I'm in no position--safe, warm, politically enfranchised as I am--to criticise. I'd say I'm behind them, except armchair support, like too late protests, is worth squat.

The race, as far as I can tell, is like as not going ahead. (I hope it does, as a cancellation now would mean something catastrophic had happened in Bahrain, with inevitably injury and further loss of life.) The advertising has been paid for. Boycotting the race as a TV viewer will not really hurt the international advertisers: they'll be there at the next race, and the next, and the next. Not watching won't make the race go away, won't make the political situation in Bahrain go away.

I do have a suggestion (I'd call it a modest proposal, but someone far cleverer than me got there first). Watch the race, if you watch such things at all. Watch with all the usual mixed feelings: of enjoyment of the competition, the spectacle, the risk; of distaste at the waste of engineering, resources, lives in such a pointless exercise.

Watch the race and then... do something for human rights, for democracy. Go to the Amnesty International web pages and send an email, write a letter to post on Monday morning, make a donation. Or do something closer to home: take some clothes or books to Oxfam, deliver leaflets for a political candidate in our local elections. Tweet, blog, update your timeline. Spend an equivalent amount of time trying to make things better.

Done before lunch. Sans pockets, but I'm not sure how functional they are.

Now, once I've done the henz, and catz, and chicken stock, I could see about the neckline of the nearly-finished sweater.

Well supper and an eveving out intervened.

So, not finished. But, wasitband attached,  bottom edge finished, hem ironed up ready to hand stitch. Belt pieces machined, need finishing. Front needs top-stitching and the pleat sewing down.

I'll be up bright and early.

Or supper.

After a brief excursion to pick up a prescription and buy LL some shoes, I've plodded on. Side seams done and edges finished. Zip in. Wasteband joined, pinned and basted in place.

Now I need to settle the hens and tidy the kitchen and make omelettes.

If I can get into a position to be able to hand sew the hem when I go out tonight (or hand finish the inside of the waistband), I'll be well on my way.

I've done the darts, tacking exactly on the edge of the printed area and then machining fractionally inside that line. No show through of unprinted fabric on the darts. Feeling proud of myself.

Measuring the back waist now, I may go down a size.

Interestingly, the printed length of the skirt is 1cm greater on the front than the back. Not a huge problem. Also means I won't have to worry about the unprinted edge showing at the bottom of the seam around the front.

[Sewing is contagious: Looby Loo is sewing a patch back on her 3/4 length cargo pants.]