Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Wednesday, December 10, 2003

Knit One, Flirt One

Delight upon delight, our dotage is continuing! By the light of the needless Living TV, Gertie and I once more spent the evening in with two types of knitting needle and some very gay-looking wool, discussing the ills of the world, how it would never happen in my day, and how you could pop into town for twelve pence, leave your front door unlocked, and still get change for the bus.

Impossibly Beautiful Housemate Mark has proven surprisingly tolerant of my - and my friend's - unusual antics, yet still almost dropped his new bike when he came in to see us two on the sofa with needles poised, Gertie's on some sort of small pink flag, and mine twiddling away on a nice Season 18 scarf. He shook his head and proclaimed us gay clichés of the highest degree. Well, dear things, we simply had to object! Fight our corner, as it where. Going out and getting high on Devil's finest disco powder to chat up stupid yet pretty men: that's a cliché. Having your own stylist at a hairdressers: that's a cliché. Staying in and beating wool into submission - well! I thus proclaim knitting to be the new rock and roll. You can even do a line in public without anyone batting an eyelid.

Although you can also do the same with cocaine on any Peckham bus route in my experience.

Jigsaws, whereas, are another matter. We were trying to find more of them to sit and complete, but it appears kids do no longer like jigsaws. I strolled everywhere looking for the joyous wooden puzzles, frequenting everywhere bar Hamleys (renamed 'The Christmas Hellmouth' at this time of year). Even John Lewis, last bastion of middle-class "now play with something quiet while Father snoozes after the Queen's speech" has nothing. WHSmith? Equally nothing. Unless you have an urgent desire to recreate the Haywain, naturally.

Still, as neither of us know canasta, we were happy with the knitting. I retired sated to bed with a good couple of inches to my name, and shall be fiddling with it in front of the TV whenever time allows. And as Gertie bedded down for the night on the sofa, he even talked about letting Mark have a go with his to see whether he could make it grow even further.

Yes, the oddest thing about Housemate Mark. I've noticed that he sleeps with his light on whenever Gertie stays over. And I'm sure I heard the sound of a chair being scraped up to the door handle.

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