Wednesday, August 23, 2006

A letter to my husband


darling - where is the camera?
I have just spent the past ten minutes arranging knitted swatches (those little bits of knitted fabric piled on the coffee table - you know the things I'm talking about, you say "whats that going to be?" and I say "nothing - it's a swatch, I checking out ideas" and you say "I don't like that colour" and I say "it's not FOR you")
yeah, so I just finished making pleasing piles from those swatches, and was preparing to take some arty shots (ok so some kinda out of focus shots) so that my mates in blogdom could see that I have been knitting, but could not actually see what I have been knitting, because it is still kind of a secret, well, not a secret, but submissions in waiting and not to be divulged as yet.
I digress, I went to the place where the camera lives, it was not there, I went to the OTHER place where the camera lives, which I had organised on monday (cleaning day) so that the camera would now live in the one place - it wasn't there.
I became slightly concerned and frankly a little hysterical, checked Blaise's room, not there, Maria's room, not there, the knitting broom closet, hallway, patios, bathrooms, kitchen cupboards and finally the wine fridge...not there.
I have come to the conclusion that you, dear one, have taken the camera; last night you packed for a business trip, you then placed your bags in the boot of your car.Tonight you will be delivering training at an countryside resort, there will be scenery, and group bonding exercises, you want to take photos of this event, sweetheart, need I remind you that you work for a huge multinational company, a company that not only can afford an office camera, a company which probably makes bl**dy cameras, you do not need my dear wee little camera.
I am sorry if I sound a little testy, there will be customers and staff from all over Australia at this event, I am sure that one of them will have a camera, in fact I am sure that one of the 3 people from your office who are attending, will have a camera, a camera which is not required by their knit-blogger wife who is in dire need of proof that she has not become a label checking, name dropping, wannabe socialite, handbag. Proof that she is still the hair-do challenged, lucky if she is wearing matching socks, let alone matching lippy, fluff covered quietly mad knitter her friends know and love.
In the meantime gentle reader, go visit Doodlebug, she illustrates beautifully, and has a whole new use for my yoga socks! (scroll down a little).