That dreadful PTA has been so painful this term. Why do I still get drawn into remaining the Chair? I am heading the food and drink section of a council-run bike treasure hunt that starts and ends at school on Sunday. Which in itself doesn't sound too bad. Except that we have absolutely no idea how many we will be catering for. Not a clue. The people from the council were originally bandying about figures in the thousands; a couple of months later we were told something between 300 and 600. We bargained on catering for 400. This morning I was given the number of people who have actually registered in advance and it was 65. This PTA lark is like having your teeth pulled. I seriously need to spend some more time in that school to remember why I want to do this.
I seem to be incapable of going to bed when I'm tired. I take a bit of yawning as a sign that I need to get the iPad out and do some internet searching for something longwinded and open-ended. Then I get into bed an hour and a half later and can't work out why I am so gloomy the next day.
Maybe linked to the above, I have a terrible desire to do nothing. I cannot get any enthusiasm together for anything. Other than futile internet time. Is it time for hibernation? Only the fear of very publicly failing at all the things I've put myself up for is keeping me going. And I've put myself up for quite a bit at the moment (the PTA cold sweat above, North Somerset Arts Committee (aargh I'm manning a stall for them at Made In North Somerset tomorrow for a while, no idea what I'm meant to be doing), various craft and art projects I've mouthed off to people about).
Building work and window fitting are both having their final fling. And the final part of the garden makeover is all down to me: I have ordered nearly 3000 mosaic tiles of every colour imaginable and will soon be making a piece of art 26cm wide and over 4 metres long to fit on top on a wall. I think I only need around 2700 tiles but some of the ones I've got in the post have been a bit dull. I am thinking rainbow. I might be rubbish at gardening but I can at least think of other ways of bringing some colour to my garden.
I have had a treat of a day today. My friend Ruth of Quincy Lampshades asked me to test out some lampshade-making kits and I was very keen to give it a go. So I spent many more hours than necessary deep into the night doing internet shopping for fabric and picked a lovely bag of goodies from her and today my good friend Laura and I set to work, well actually fitting in some work between coffees, cakes, lunch at the wonderful Bird in Hand and some good talk. And we ended up with some really good results (although I dread the thought of Ruth seeing the scruffy insides):-
I am rather pleased with my big cabbage lampshade (even though I broke the light fitting rushing to put it on), having always in the past been of the persuasion that lampshades need to be white and plain. I have the ingredients for two more smaller ones, and I have the inclination to spend a few more hours on the internet picking the perfect fabric so more might be on the way...
I ought to end with a really big up: there is a little girl whose appearance on the scene is bringing everyone I know in the village so much joy. Florence is just 12 months old but is causing quite a stir. We hadn't even met her and she didn't know it, but on Monday she had most of us at a baby shower with a tear in our eye and that amazing feeling in the hairs on the back of our necks. My dear friends Jenny and Pete are in the process of adopting her and it is quite the happiest loveliest story ever. Jenny was worried she might not warm to her at first but it seems to be proper love at first sight. It is both a happy ending to a story and an exciting new beginning. Welcome Florence!