Am I pleased that the Clangers are making a return to TV or WHAT? Oh yes, those little pink meece-like creatures with quivering snouts, those ultimate recyclers of space trash, and their companions - the Soup Dragon, the Iron Chicken and the Froglets - are coming back to delight us with simple stories and Michael Palin taking on the role of storyteller though time will tell if he is able to replicate the magic delivered by Oliver Postgate.
I love the Clangers. Even though they speak via the medium of Swanee whistle, you STILL know what they are saying, a bit like Sweep from the Sooty Show. And in honour of their return I decided to dedicate the 'Sews' part of my day to knitting, and specifically knitting Tiny Clanger. You remember Tiny? She was a whizz at making stuff. Wore a snazzy red tunic. Was called 'Tiny.'
Well, pink wool was the order of the day, and given I like pink I thought I might have the requisite wool in my wool stash. And yes, I did have pink wool. About five different shades. But none of them Clanger-pink. Clanger-pink, you see, is a very specific shade. Any old pink will not do.
Four shops I visited today in search of Clanger-pink. Four! I was beginning to think I was never going to find the right shade and would have to abandon all thoughts of Clanger knitting, because there was no way I was going to compromise the integrity of the Clanger by knitting them in, say, bubble gum pink or baby pink or even cerise.
However, you will be pleased to know I tracked down the right shade - sort of almost but not quite antique rose - and thus I spent a couple of hours this afternoon knitting the main body shape, arms and ears and watching with half an eye 'The Importance of Being Earnest' with the lovely and distinctly unpink Colin Firth as Jack Worthing. Sigh...
Whilst I was out I also got green wool for the soup dragon and stocked up on my felt and fat quarter stash. (You might think this spending is all a bit extravagant given we are now officially flat broke and in the red because of the roof, but my reasoning is that a few quid spent on some arty-crafty stuff might just distract me from fretting about the state of our bank account until we heave ourselves back into solvency. That's what I think, anyway.)
I also went to the council tip to dispose of a couple of bags of roofing rubble and some other odds and sods. Given most of the roofer chaps are what I deem to be 'from the educated about recycling' generation they are pants about sorting their rubbish. In our three bins I discovered they had dumped bits of broken tile and plastic in the green waste bin, aluminium cans and fish and chip wrappers in the non-recycle bin and everything that wasn't recyclable in the recycle bin, so there I was at 8 this morning, Marigolded to the elbows and upending all the bins onto the drive to sort out their contents.
For 'Grows' today I cut the remainder of the lavender and tidied up the greenery, and for 'Prose' I did some writing but not a huge amount because a) I wrote myself into a corner and now need a bit of thinking time to try and fathom how I am going to get out of it and b) I was way too excited about Clanger knitting and couldn't really concentrate on writing.
And now I am going to do a spot of embroidery to finish the day, and start reading a book a lovely friend gave me which she said I might enjoy because it was a bit 'weird.'
But not as weird as Clangers, I'll bet.