Irony

Here I am, eating crisps, while my husband works out at the gym. Ironic.

Here I am, buying more and more wool until it threatens to take over my closet (and sofa) and I'm frogging every other project. Okay, so the cloud bolero got frogged because I made a mistake in the pattern (ok, a really bad one) but I frogged the vest because I just didn’t like how the stitch pattern was turning out- and the yarn hurt my hands. Okay, I think, no more cheap yarns anymore. I finished a sleeve on the drops pullover, and slid it onto my hand to show my husband who loves the pale pink color. He strokes it and finds it a tad rough. Well, what else can you expect from an acrylic polyester blend?

I’m craving crisps again…not good!

So much cooking- chicken parm and samosa- rajma chawal and pav bhaji- kheer and pasta…sometimes I wonder- should I put up some recipes? Nah, I think- no one reads this anyway. And that’s fine.

I was so lonely when I first got here and now? I still don’t have any friends, but I go to a class occasionally, and I know my next door neighbor now (not well, they moved in a week or so back) but still it’s better than nothing. And I have knitting and watching the telly, dr who (and lusting after david tennant) and classic toons and unlimited Netflix on my DVD player…so yes, I am alone, but I’m okay.

Although I do look forward to my husband getting back- and I daydream about him off and on- mostly the creases about his mouth as he starts to smile. Not dimples, just creases. Intensely sexy.

And drooling over him while stuffing my mouth with lays crisps.

Irony.