Ooh, today was a very good day. Every year for Chistmas, my grandparents buy theatre tickets for me and my sister and we have a lovely day up in town with shopping and a dinner out. Mah-vellous.
After a really quite rapid dash across London, we managed to make it to the theatre in the nick of time (we got distracted buying sweets in M&S). My sister is one of those quick people, and even when we are walking along in a normal fashion, she ends up walking three paces ahead of me and I end up scurrying behind her like a grovelling servant. Anyway, add 'late' and 'panic' into the mix, I ended up chasing her across the cobbles of Covent Garden through the Saturday crowds, scattering shoppers and Percy Pigs liberally along the route. I'm still knackered now. I think I can forego jogging for the rest of the month.
Anyway, the show was great, but not as good as this.
Oh yes. There was a sale on in John Lewis wool department. I like buying wool nearly as much as I like buying shoes. Ooh, it was good. I was very impressed with how patient my sister was as I stroked the wool, picked it up and put it down again, looked at it in a mirror so I could see if the colours would suit me, stroked it some more, and had some lovely conversations with other wool fans about the virtue of some brands and what to make with it. It's a shame most knitters are middle aged ladies, if they were handsome young men I would SO be able to pick up a husband in haberdashery.
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