Milking It

I did some knitting for a while to relieve the boredom (my new favourite hobby) but I have decided to have a break from it to think about what it is I'm actually knitting. At the moment it's just a massive big white oblong which leaves only two options:

A. A baby's blanket (although I'm not sure what kind of mother would let their baby near it)

B. A scarf a blind person may appreciate

My giving up of knitting for the evening hasn't best pleased Christopher as I earlier sent him in out blizzard conditions to buy more yarn (ahh how cool he must have looked). It reminded me of a time at university when I sent him out against his will to buy me sweets. He didn't come back for two hours. The garage on the corner was held up by thugs with Netto bags on their heads. Thankfully he did the brave thing and hid behind the biscuits until the police came.

The snow makes people act very strangely. Aside from people who bulk buy milk, my new pet hate has been the Obsessive Clearing of Paths (OCP). In our street the longest path must be one metre at most, and yet our offending neighbours can be seen clearing them as if their life depends on it. One has his wife overseeing the work. Why? Every other bit of land surrounding it is blanketed in snow so what difference is this going to make? None whatsoever.

Anyway, I'm off downstairs for more shortbread and a nice glass of milk. If we have any left that is...

* Read more about my new knitting obsession in my For Better For Worse column in Tuesday's Journal.