I’m knitting socks at the moment, out of a single ball of yarn – knitting the ball at both ends, as one might say. To avoid the awkwardness of having one short sock and one long one, I have both socks underway simultaneously – first foot, second foot, second leg, first leg. Unequal sockage duly avoided.
What I have failed to avoid, however, are the strains of The S-Song of the S-Second S-Sock, floating through my mind. And since that song is set to the tune of The Gnu by Flanders & Swann, I have found myself proclaiming at intervals that I’m a gnu.
The Caped Gooseberry has taken the revelation that his wife is an ungulate surprisingly well. It takes a lot to shake him from his accustomed equanimity.
Progress has also been made on chipping away at that ancient gargoyle, the rose quilt. Lines of quilting are creeping across the surface, from the centre out. I have divided the work to be done into nineteen sections (of irregular size: why waste time calculating that could be spent quilting?) and I am part way through the fourth of these. Slow, but gnus are not renowned for their quilting expertise.
And of course, as the WIP widget says (scroll down, look left), I’m working on the rewrite of The Wound of Words. It is a major rewrite, and rather draining. Second drafts always seem to involve major changes. With Restoration Day I ended up biffing the whole third quarter of the first draft (among other parts).
I can only hope that, as with Restoration Day, this book emerges from the maelstrom of the rewrite with a strong resemblance to its final form.
+ + +
Have you been tempted to announce yourself to the world as a wildebeest lately?
2 Replies to “I’m A Gnu”
I have never seen myself as a wildebeest, but for about three years I was employed to take care of gnus. I regularly intoned on radio, “Here is the gnus….”.