This morning I woke up to the first proper frost of the winter. We were out for dinner last night with friends* and walking home, the stars were beautiful. One of the many benefits of living out here is that (assuming the pub and petrol station turn off their exterior lights when they close) we have dark skies, and can enjoy the stars.
I always wish I knew more about the stars, without actually wanting to do anything so pedestrian as study them, so I point out the constellations I know (Orion, the Plough, Cassiopeia....um.....possibly the Dragon, the Pleiadies) and then have to content myself with sighing in an affected manner and saying trite things like "Gosh, there are so many of them. Aren't they lovely?"
According to Wikipedia (and when is the Internet ever wrong, eh?) there are 88 modern constellations. I can recognise 4, possibly 5. That's not a good average, even allowing for the fact that I can't see the ones in the Southern Hemisphere.
I note with interest that the stars that make up the Dragon are located within The Black Tortoise Of The North in Chinese skies. I like that name. It sounds like it ought to belong to a really crap pirate, renowned for his lassitude and inability to catch anyone he chases across the high seas. With a wrinkly neck, and an inordinate fondness for grapes and lettuce.
This week is an exciting one, as it is likely to be when we find out if the planned new business venture can go ahead as we want, or whether we will have to go to Plan B, or even Plan C. I don't even know if we have a Plan C, to be honest.
I'm trying hard not to get too excited about things, at least until we have stuff on paper in a legal manner, but it's really tempting to start planning things and deciding what would be best to do when we get the go-ahead.
This week is also the start of a new sewing project. My London Niece has asked me to make her an outfit based on a Manga comic character, so this weekend we chose the fabric and made the necessary measurements. It will involve a shitload of frills. It's years since I made anything that wasn't "ordinary" so this will be good practice.
Mr WithaY wants me to make him a set of Elizabethan clothing, and possibly some Regency and Medieval stuff too, so I need to get my eye back in. I like a challenge, me.
At the weekend, whilst Middle Sis and London Niece were visiting, we all went out for a curry. The curry house we go to is a way away, on the main road between here and Salisbury.It used to be a Little Chef restaurant, so it's huge, and never feels crowded, which I like. I also like the fact that the old elephant-shaped slide out the front has now been decorated to look like an Indian ceremonial elephant, complete with gold paint and eye-liner.
We ate a fine meal, paid the bill and were walking out to the car. There was a shout behind us, and the restaurant owner burst out through the doors, scampering after us. We all stopped, wondering if we'd forgotten a coat, or perhaps under-tipped, and were about to get the business end of a curry ladle.
No. He was mortified that he hadn't been by the front door to wish us a goodnight, and thank us for coming. Apparently he'd been in the kitchen, supervising a "complicated dish" and had missed us leaving. He shook our hands, said a fulsome goodnight, and we went on our way. What a nice chap.
Other news: I made ginger cake from a recipe in my Great British Baking book. Readers, it was excellent. On a not entirely unrelated note, I weighed myself this morning and was mortified to discover that I have got heavier. It may be partly due to my gym visits, muscle weighs more than fat, blah blah blah, but I have a nasty feeling it has more to do with my fondness for cramming cake into my fat face.
*Hello Sarah!
2 comments:
When comet Hale-Bopp was in the sky, I used to walk the dogs, nightly tracking its progress and picking up constellations while I was about it, and got quite good at it. All gone now, though. I know the ones you do. On a good night.
The Hale-Bopp was incredible - I remember driving home from work in the dark across Salisbury Plain and stopping the car to look at it more than once.
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