My Everyday Wear

I got up today feeling like I should be doing some housework. By the time I had my shower and stripped off the bed and sorted out the laundry to be washed, and the laundry to be put away, I was in fact knackered. I am now sitting down with a cup of coffee before summoning up enough energy to remake the bed.

Whilst I was sorting out the washed laundry that, I had worn over the last couple of weeks, it occurred to me that I am truly an advert for Doris Chan's book of Everyday crochet.This pile is not all that I have made. A lot I have made and given away and some more are tucked away under my pile of sweaters in the wardrobe. This is just my fortnight's wear. As you can see some of them are rather battered which is a testament to the fact that they truly are not my best sweaters and are in fact everyday Crochet.

I haven't made much progress on any crochet as yesterday was a phone call and visits day. Not that I am complaining. I have so few visitors that it is nice. Isn't it always the way though that everyone decides to phone or visit on the same day? Leaving other days when I don't see or speak to a soul. I would rather have some company than get on with my crochet. There will be many other days to crochet I am sure.

Last night was a good night on TV for me. I watched the Hairy Bikers although their Sunday lunches were family orientated and so not recipes that I would make for myself. I still enjoy the programme though which is unusual as I am not a lover of cookery programmes in general. I then watched How to Look Good Naked with Gok Wan followed by the programme on the Chawners who are the fattest laziest family that I have come across in quite a while. The mother is absolutely useless. She makes me so angry. has no interest in anything other than herself and stuffing her face. What mother would go and have her hair done when they had rang to say that her daughter had been rushed in hospital for an appendix operation? I was shouting at the TV that time. She wouldn't even take any interest in the fact that her daughters were trying to lose weight.Both parents wandered off when it was parent discussion time on how to help their children slim. Useless great lumps! All she could say to the specialist who was taking care of her daughter in hospital was don't you recognise her from the X factor. He said no and started discussing her daughter again and she said well your nurses do. No interest in her daughter's health just wanted to be recognised on the coat tails of her daughter's so called celebrity status. If someone in the national press called a child of mine a lard bucket and fatso then I would want to shield them and not draw attention to them.I would love for someone to give me the opportunity to speak to all those experts on diets.The programme was trying to teach them about nutrition and fats in foods but only one daughter was remotely interested. I couldn't have done most of the exercise stuff but I am sure that they would have worked out a programme suitable for me to follow.

I had to use BBC catch up to watch another programme that I had to miss last night as it clashed with another programme. The one about the old mums.I am not going to pass judgement on what ladies do in the desire for a child I just thought that if I had a baby at their ages then I would have a toddler around my feet at the moment. I can barely take care of myself these days so it's a good job that I never had any of those urges. My sister in law (who called yesterday) married in her mid 30's and became a mother naturally in her later thirties and always thought of herself as an older mum and worried about whether the kids would think she was old as she had gone grey very early on. Compared to some of today's mothers she was a mere chicken. My Gran had children in her 40's, again naturally, but they were the last 4 children of a family of 16 so there would have had plenty of siblings to take care of them had anything happened to Gran and Grandad.

It's another dark dismal dreary day and I am trying to drum up enthusiasm for finishing off making the bed and hoovering up in there. Perhaps after Loose Women?