Thursday June 5, 2008
A couple of days back Graham was happily engaged on making a pair of cushions when his poor old sewing machine made a strange, strangled noise, and began to emit clouds of foul smelling smoke. After a lot of years hard work the poor old machine had finally collapsed.
We’ve had it repaired and serviced a number of times over the years but something persuaded both of us that it was now an ex-machine.
“Can I have a Pfaff now?” he said, brightly once we’d gone through a brief period of mourning.
“I thought you wanted a Husqvarna.”
“No. I want a Pfaff.”
And so today we took delivery of a nice ‘new’ sewing machine, a Pfaff Tiptronic 1029.
Graham is much taken with it, and spent the whole day learning how to operate it, finishing just before Buffy time by producing the first of the new cushions.
I made an excursion to Sainsbury’s for provisions and to fill my tummy with a mega-brunch. Otherwise I seem to have spent the day gazing morosely out of the window, wishing for… I dunno. Ye gods and little fishes but I do dislike my morose days.
Shortly before dinner Graham leapt to his feet and grabbed the vacuum cleaner and his house cleaning kit. An hour later the house gleamed, all tidy and neat.
“There,” he said. “We’re ready now.”
“I have a premonition that the house viewers are going to start coming very soon now.”
“Oh. Goody. Is there any of this wine left?”
Foot-note, or boob-note if you wish: I peeled the dressing off early this evening, gingerly. It was well adhered. Nothing remarkable was revealed except for an interesting bruise and an even more interesting display of the different words I have for ‘ouch’. Failing interesting developments of the hospital bug kind, this’ll be the last of the boob bulletins until I go back for my post-biopsy consultation.