Knocked out

Did you see it? Did you catch it’s number? That train that ran me down, I think it was driven by this mad microbe out for revenge, and he got me good. I hate getting sick, especially at this end of the work month. Send chocolate.


Why would anyone do this? Better yet, why would there be competition for this record? ‘Scorpion woman’ breaks record.

A Malaysian woman has broken a world record by spending 32 days in a glass box with more than 6,000 scorpions, her sponsor claimed on Tuesday. Nur Malena Hassan, nicknamed Scorpion Queen, has been stung seven times since she began the stunt, in a shopping mall in Kuantan in central Pahang state. With scorpions crawling over her body, Ms Hassan passes the time by reading, watching TV and waving to onlookers. But she cannot make any sudden movement, or she could face the wrath of her treacherous roommates.

After five years of training, Ms Hassan has built up resistance to the scorpions’ stings, but can still pass out if stung three times in quick succession.

Since starting the stunt, she has only left her box once a day for a 15-minute toilet break, as well as a two minute break on Sunday to cut her birthday cake.

She used to hold the record, then someone else took it, now she’s out to regain her crown, planning to stay in there until 36 days. Don’t try this at home, or indeed anywhere. Five years training getting stung by scorpions? Where do you put that on a CV/resume?

Haiku V

All good things must end

Haiku week is finished now

Thank you for playing!

This is the last haiku round up, thanks to everyone who posted them, it’s been a blast! I’m leaving town mid-afternoon, so I’ll post what I have so far. If I missed you, leave a note in the comments and I’ll add you when I get back.

I’m off for the weekend. Hubby is getting better, and I’m still stealing his car. In my defense, I have cleaned it and filled it with petrol.

Haiku IV

The Mystery Yarn Parcel I won in Jillz August contest arrived last night! Good old Royal Mail!

Mystery parcel,

Rowan Cotton Chenille yarn,

Galaxy chocolate!

Mystery Yarn Parcel!

There was a bar of Galaxy chocolate in the box that did not last the night, also a lovely note, and four balls of yarn purchased from Liberty in London, a store I remember walking past and never going in. It is my first Rowan yarn, Chunky Cotton Chenille in two wonderfully contrasting shades of blue, soft and squishy.

Yarn close up.

I love those two colours next to each other! Jillz, how did you know blue is one of my favourite colours? 152 yds a ball, I have four balls, so that’s 608 yards total. The Shapely Tank Top requires 600 yards, but that’s in DK not chunky. Can anyone help me do the conversion from DK to chunky? Dark blue two thirds of the way up, and the top third in light blue maybe? Or maybe a warm and snuggly Tricot? Or a scarf, hat and mittens set? A waistcoat/vest? Endless possibilities. Must swatch, but endless possibilities! What would you make with it?

The Thursday haiku round up:

I’ve been listing the haiku’s for the day they were written, not the day I found them. The Friday haiku round up will be the last one. It will be done early afternoon as I’m leaving town for the retreat, so apologies in advance for anyone I miss off the list. Just leave a note in the comments and I’ll add you when I get back. This has been so much fun! Make sure you read everyone’s comments, lots of haiku are popping up there too.

A handbag?

Fascinating article in the Telegraph, £577 price tag as the handbag spills its secrets.

Women’s handbags have always been a mystery to men and now it appears they are a mystery to women too. Few realise it but the average handbag and its contents are worth £577, according to a survey of women. What’s more, despite the labyrinthine nature of bags – containing everything from packets of cough sweets to tissues or countless receipts that have been there since the dawn of time – the average value was made up of just 10 items. The survey of 1,700 women found that most had a bag priced at £30, a purse worth £15, containing £50 cash, a £199 mobile phone, £50 sunglasses, 8 hairbrush, £40 of perfume, house and car keys that would cost £100 to replace, and a leather diary or organiser worth £35. Perhaps the most incomprehensible statistic to men is that the average make-up bag and its contents carried in a handbag was worth £50.

So what’s in your handbag? Mine always has my wallet (containing a very hard to replace green card and a handful of change), keys (including a Photon II Microlight), lip balm, pocket Moleskine notebook, pen (Cross Ion Hubby gave me that writes purple), cell phone, comb, mirror, eye drops, nail clippers, Leatherman Micra, small tin of headache pills, tissues when I remember to restock it, cheap sunglasses, and some fluff right at the bottom of the bag. That’s not £577, but it’s more than I expected.

Haiku III

Working on the socks

promised for Sehlat’s birthday,

knitting down the bones. (*)

(* Writing Down The Bones by Natalie Goldberg is one of the first books on writing I picked up five years ago, and I still go back to it. I think I’d prefer my novels with a bit more structure than she writes, but it’s a great book for journalling.)

Spent most of last night knitting Sehlat’s second sock while Hubby was out. They’re two weeks late so far. I’m past the heel, and onto the foot part. Sehlat has very little feet, so it shouldn’t take much longer to finish. The Star Toe looks quite nifty. I’m writing up this pattern when they’re done. The socks will come with me this weekend to the church women’s retreat in middle-of-nowhere IL, where there is zero cell phone signal and a lot of quiet. There will be some meditative knitting time on Saturday afternoon, probably by the lake. I’d like to climb a tree and knit up there, but I have visions of dropping the ball or a squirrel stealing it and wrapping the whole tree in yarn. Maybe I’d better stick to the gazebo.

The Wednesday haiku round up:

Go give Hubby some sympathy, he’s come down sick just as I’m jetting off for the weekend, stealing his V6 automatic SUV, and leaving him with my manual transmission oldie-but-goodie Ford workhorse.