Thinking

We didn't turn the TV on until late last night, so it came as a shock to hear of the terrorist activity in Mumbai.  Having stayed in the Taj hotel so recently, the accounts of events gave both of us shivers as we pictured the bustling foyer, the lively bars and restaurants, the bright and well stocked shops which attracted tourists and locals alike.  We recalled a wonderful afternoon, spent drinking tea in the afternoon heat but in the shade of a cool verandah in a quiet garden, imagining it to be anything but quiet today.

Most of my thoughts turned to the delightful people.  I wonder how the charming young reception clerks are, what's happened to the three amazing concierges who somehow remembered not only everyone's name but even knew which was our luggage in the melee that is so typically Indian.

I pictured the scene in the ground floor restaurant, where we enjoyed a delicious "Bombay Tiffin"one evening.  The dark furnishings and subdued lighting created a wonderful atmosphere and we received first class service from the many young waiters who were anxious to ensure everything was to our liking.

I wonder what's happened to the Joy shoe shop on the ground floor at the front of the hotel, with the funny little details and the dozen or so young men who brought out almost every twinkly shoe in their store so willingly for picky women like me.

But most of all, I thought of the hundreds of thousands of ordinary Mumbai residents, passing through the station, along the street or in the cinema, going about their ordinary, everyday business and caught up in such terrible events.

Where is the man who runs the tiny office supplies store on the road by the station, who fulfilled my wish for glue sticks and paper punch (How many holes, madam?  What size hole, Madam?) Hard to imagine that a one-man operated cupboard of a shop could offer more of a selection of goods than the large, flashy store here. Incomparable service, too.

Mumbai is such an amazing city, full of life and colour.  There must be so many people like us, with fond memories and family links to the city who are watching the events unfold with sadness this morning.  Packing a suitcase to go off on another trip, we question whether it would be preferable to stay at home.  Any doubts are soon dismissed when experiences such as being in Mumbai for a couple of days are recalled, though.

It's such a privilege to travel, to see and experience far away places but most of all, to meet people and learn a little about their lives.  I find my thoughts keep returning to the people in Mumbai this morning.

Stirring it up

Weighing ingredients, preparing baking tins and getting everything ready for making the Christmas cakes this year, I thought of my Nan.  Doing this was a huge event in her household, involving quite a few days of getting things together and I remember her feeling very pleased with herself when she'd got all the tins prepared and everything ready to go.

I don't give the gathering of all the good things a second thought and simply take a list down to Waitrose and put bags of dried fruit, almonds, boxes of eggs, butter, citrus fruits, the tin of black treacle and bottle of brandy in the trolley along with the normal weekly shop.  But these things must have been so precious to a housewife such as her, managing on a meagre weekly budget. 

No room for any risk of failure, every precaution must be taken to get all steps right to ensure the best possible outcome.

Not only that, it must have been such tiring work.  Creaming the butter and sugar is hard work even with electrical help, and folding in of the flour and the fruit which had soaked overnight left me with an aching arm and huge admiration for women like my Nan who did it all without a thought.

I wonder what she wished for?

Satisfaction

 Reading my profile, you may have caught the bit about "wanting to do everything perfectly, preferably in the next five minutes".  That's a pretty accurate statement about me but not 100% honest, perhaps.

Expecting to do everything perfectly is probably nearer the mark.

However, don't underestimate the immense satisfaction when, once in a Sheffield Flood*, a half hour diversion resulting from a fun (and well written) website tutorial leaves me with a little heap of paper goodness in front of me.

Perhaps later, my photo of the day will reveal the finished object?

*"Once in a Sheffield Flood" = Yorkshire way of describing something that doesn't happen very often. 

Knitting advice

I arrived in Ross armed with two abandoned lace projects and left with just one.  The other is now a few balls of yarn.

Friends, eh? 

Actually, they were right to cheer me on as I ripped out the mistake-ridden Ene shawl for they knew that those mistakes would bug me no end.  We all agreed that other peoples mistakes don't matter one jot, but our own work has to be rather better than that.  On Sue's advice, I'll use the yarn to knit a straight scarf/wrap with shorter rows to build my confidence.  Most probably it'll be the Print o the Wave pattern or something similar.  For now, huge triangular shawls are just so last year!

Sue K (yes, two Sues) had brought some yummy yarn destined to be - errrmmmm, a triangular shawl?  W Sue brought several fantastic lace projects on the needles and a copy of Nancy Bush's latest book for us to drool over.  Having generously shared some valuable experience for not only getting that lace right but for getting beads in as well, she's now expecting to see progress.  Hmmm.

Sadly, Bailey's doesn't allow photographs, or else you'd see the great visual treat that can be recycled glass, brown paper, linen, string and other such goodies.  As we enjoyed our lunch, we caught sight of more little details, things hanging from wooden spoons, scarves with sweet buttons and labels, wooden apples and little dolls sitting on the rafters which reminded us of some childrens TV programme or other (Was she called Lucia?) Suffice to say, none of us left empty handed.

Here and there

London yesterday, Birmingham today, Ross on Wye tomorrow!

 In Birmingham, we creatures of habit were thrown off kilter when for the first time ever, our usual car park was full.  We followed signs to an alternative, not so very far away and enjoyed a different walk along the canal.

We loved the Old Turn junction - a choice between Wolverhampton (3 locks), Fazeley (18 locks) or Worcester (58 locks) and felt that this information could well prove the deciding factor in choosing which route to take.

This restored stretch of the canal is delightful with plenty to see.  Today was no exception, for as we turned around, the Saville Cut was approaching, perhaps having navigated all 58 locks en route from Worcester?

The reflections on the water were fantastic.

We could have watched the comings and goings all afternoon, but instead, we headed into Symphony Hall to hear a concert of Brahms and Schubert.

Tomorrow I'm hoping to sort out one or two knitting challenges with a master of her craft in an amazing place.  I think someone else is planning to join us as well.  What fun!