Two day’s after I arrived in Katoomba I had a bit of a sore throat. I thought it was from talking too much, but no, it was the start of a “who the heck shoved an orbital sander down my throat” sore throat. And as anyone who has tried to sleep with an orbital sander down their throat will know, sleep is a bit, well, challenging. And functioning as a human being becomes a distant and fond memory once I get a little sleep deprived. Writing and knitting? Was I really once capable of such things?
There was knitting before the sleep deprivation really set in. It’s been rather chilly here – two nights ago it reached -3 – so fingerless mitts suddenly had immense appeal. I managed somehow to come up with a whole new pattern, which I’ll post when I get back.
Today I’m feeling a smidge better, like I may be over the worst of it. The Katoomba Winter Magic Festival is on, but I don’t think I’m going to make it. If any of the knitters who invited me to hang out are reading this, apologies for not making it.
Instead I might curl up in a sunny spot inside, and try to remember what I’m supposed to do with these sharpened sticks and soft stringy stuff.