I said I’d be back with a substantive post but I lied a horrible lie. My plan was to finish off my little knitted dress and then show that fantabulousness and be done in time for Outrageous Fortune.
Alas, I have not finished the dress. And Outrageous Fortune is being outrageous as I type. So this’ll be quick… I need to get back to the dress.
So now I need a baby to test it on. Anyone got one going?
Anyway, the reason I haven’t been knitting/sewing/blogging so much is that I’ve been trying to read. Unfortunately that comes at the expense of doing anything that requires hands or brainpower.
I’m only just getting into the book now. I don’t know whether it is some remnant of the early days of mummy-brain or just the lifestyle I now lead but I just can’t read like I used to. I used to be a book glutton. The moment I opened the book to the moment I set it down finished, I could think of nothing else. These days it requires a bit more effort.
My feelings about ‘Another bloody love letter‘ are mixed. Anthony Loyd is one of my favourite writers… mostly because I love his life. War correspondant, drug addict, soul barer. But this book seems a bit more fluffy than the last. ‘My war gone by, I miss it so‘ was slightly more rookie style and had the associated confusion of someone struggling with the choices they have made. In the subsequent book, Loyd is what he is, but seems to be trying to remain appalled by it.
I’ll update when I finish… it seems to be improving as I get further in.