I don’t think it was a plane. I think it was a pigeon.

I’m in a dilemma. Mr Dangly Monkey still needs legs and half an arm and a tail. But I have grossly underestimated the amount of wool needed to get as far as I have (i.e. a body, a head, one and a half arms) and I don’t think I am going to have enough to finish him.

And I can’t just go order another ball, because of course, this is random wool I got off Ebay back in Nam, which had no paper bands on to tell me where it came from, what it is, etc. I thought of that, I assure you. I’m not one for planning my knitting, or even really following patterns – I am very much a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-voluminous-pants kind of knitter, a freestyler in most aspects of life.

Is it socially unacceptable for a monkey to have different coloured limbs from his head and body? Your comments are welcomed.

In other news, I had to go to Edinburgh yesterday for an evening meeting with some industry bods – it turned out that a mere 12 people were present, 5 of those were from the company running the show and 2 were me and Lisa. The rest were all geeks of the bearded, bespectacled or BO-y genus, in some cases, all 3. It turned out not to be quite as dull as I’d anticipated, which may have been something to do with the spectacular location.

The shindig was held here, in the Penthouse no less. The view of what is essentially the Castle’s back door was quite amazing. Could see all the way to the firth of whatever it is too, as it was such a clear, sunny evening. I’m mildly ashamed that I don’t think I’ve ever really been to Edinburgh properly – to see the history things. The castle, etc – I have a vague recollection of the camera obscura somewhere in a dark recess of my mind, and the 1 o’clock gun and my grandad, tongue sandwiches (as in a cow’s tongue between 2 slices of pan (not plain) loaf) and vomiting cherries onto a pavement, but I can’t be sure that was all Edinburgh. Or all me.

We arrived and almost got enrolled in a Edinburgh Film Festival party, which looked a lot more fun than our more sedate gathering upstairs. A nice man from the hotel told us that Gabriel Byrne and Charlize Theron had been in the penthouse the day before doing interviews – sadly, they didn’t hang around for a short conference on corporate governence in the internet world (and who could blame them?).

Still, it was an afternoon away from my untidy desk, a trip on a train and some free pens, no less. The pens are thankfully nice writers, which makes up for the 2 glasses of dirty wine and the having to make polite chit chat with an Elton John lookalike with very luxuriant nostril hair.

On the way home, our train (or the one in front) struck a bicycle on the tracks. It was unclear as to whether there was someone on said bicycle, but judging by the relatively short length of time we were detained in the pitch dark some miles outside Linlithgow, I’d say that the rider escaped unharmed.

T-minus 3 days til meltdown – 32 degrees in Kos today!


3 thoughts on “I don’t think it was a plane. I think it was a pigeon.

  1. bespectacled?? that is the best word i have ever heard – and as such is my new word of the day. also… i think a monkey with mismatched arms etc is entirely acceptable…

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