March 25: Craft projects

Class two of learning how to knit. I'm excited. And do you know what, I actually think I've nailed it. UBRO. Up, behind, round, off. Up, behind, round, off. Who said knitting was hard? It only gets tricky when for some inexplicable reason, a stitch doesn't come out right, or you accidentally make a big hole, or a row decides to drunkenly and rudely cascade off the end of the needle, or something disastrous like that. But all you need is a friend to pass it to. A friend who says, 'Give it here you numpty, what have you done again.' Friends are great. Friends can fix things. And off you go again.
This week was more relaxed. There were no snakes in tanks looking at me and my tasty bump of a baby. But I did find out that at least one other member of the gang also has snakes (again, in tanks in her living room) and one has - wait for it - a tarantula. What is it about knitters?
But I also discover that this isn't just a knitting club. There is one girl, my school friend's flatmate who is very beautiful and talented and lovely, but currently keeps telling gruesome stories about lambing season (her mother has a farm in Devon; last week a crow pecked the innards out of a lamb's backside. Poor lamb. As they say.) She is making jewellery; big silver chunky soldiered-things that will no doubt look great when finished. I think one of the women was crocheting too, but I'm not sure what that is. But there was one woman who didn't do anything... though she had an excuse. She brought her tiny three-week old, elfin baby with her to show her off for the first time. We took it in turns holding her (I lie.. I didn't want to but the rest did), passing her around, cooing at her too-big-for-her-body hands and cute outfit. We can't resist. There's no competition. She wins the vote by miles - undoubtedly the best-craft prject anyone in the group has so far produced.

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I seem to have a new lodger in my house. It is not a cat, thank-god. I think it must be a snail (or, yuck, a slug, so I'm just thinking it's a snail). Two mornings ago, I came downstairs, stood in my kitchen thinking 'fooooooooood,' glanced at the nearby rug that is stopping my make-shift chairs scrape the new floor and thought, 'hmmm'. There was a clear and definite slime trail, circling in on itself then squiggling off the side of the rug. I hoovered it off, inspected for slimy little creatures to no avail. But the next day, there it was again, this time its glistening markings on the rug and the doormat, a few feet away. I'm not sure what to think of my intruder. I'm not sure where it lives. In my one wilting plant high-up on a shelf? In my kettle? Nor what it is after in my house. Crumbs? Do snails eat crumbs? Perhaps I should leave some out and see if they vanish in a puff of smoke - or trail of slime. So long as it stays downstairs, I think it will be ok. I won't get the traps out just yet. But any sign of the slime coming upstairs to suck me and Bump in the middle of the night, then it's had it.