As we reach the end of the summer, the weather has finally broken and today has been glorious.

So we abandoned all other plans and headed to the park to practice our walking skills, eat ice cream and generally have a lovely time in the sun.

But whilst we enjoy this day, and look forward to Mr Stitch being on holiday next week, we took time out to remember those families whose joy was shattered forever 8 years ago today and whose loved ones will not walk in the park with them again.

Our prayers go out to them.

And to those who risk, and lose, their lives on a daily basis to ensure that I can play with my daughter in the park in safety.

We are grateful.

I’m having a Patsy Cline moment.  And not in a glamorous way.

This exhaustion thingy is driving me crazy.

Obviously Little Stitch is numero uno priority Chez Stitches and then everything else gets a cursory glance.

So the house is clean enough that you’re probably not going to get MRSA if you pop by for a cuppa, but for goodness sake don’t look under furniture or at the skirting boards.  And step back if you open a cupboard.  Concussion can be a nasty thing.

The ironing is done fairly regularly but only when prompted by Mr S who’s down to his last white shirt for the office.  I know this makes him sound like some South American Dictator, but the prompt is usually him sneaking off to iron a shirt himself, which sets my guilt gene in motion.

A 15 minute walk to the post office takes me about 45 minutes.  Thankfully Charlie likes the slow pace.

I’m getting good with leftovers.  And am blessed with a fiance who is just happy to have homecooked food in whatever guise it comes in.

To add to the idiocy of it all, my back has reverted to type and I’m seized from calf to ear.  I feel like my back is 3 inches shorter than my front.  I haven’t sewn more than two stitches on the machine in the last week, and we won’t discuss the knitting, which has just been completely frogged back to the beginning.  Or the incredible increasing waistline as my cortisol levels send my need for cake through the roof.

I have lists up the wazoo for things that I need to get done, stuff I want to get done, a really cool study plan for my French, and ideas for my Autumn wardrobe. If my Autumn sewing is as (non)productive as my Spring and Summer sewing, I’ll be hobbling round in my dressing gown for the whole season.

It would appear that something had to give and the something was me.  Even typing feels like my fingers are running through treacle.  And it’s nearly midnight and I can’t sleep so here I am!

Crazy!

I’m off to see Ryan the magic osteopath tomorrow, and have Alice-who-isn’t-a-cat and Kelly coming to visit for the weekend.  Mr S is taking Friday off and we’re having a family day.  Hopefully that will be enough to break the cycle and start me back on the road to some energy and enthusiasm to get done the things I want to get done, as well as the things I need to.

What is it they say about the best laid plans?

Whilst I’d intended to get to work on the gingham wrap blouse this week, I’ve been absolutely floored by exhaustion. The doctor tells me I need to rest and I can just about summon up the energy to laugh at that notion in a world weary way.

He seems to think I’ve been completely overdoing it for the last year physically, which, coupled with the emotional roller-coaster of the last year or so, and particularly the past 11 weeks, has resulted in my body whimpering “enough”.  I have no idea what he means.  Said with wry smile

So Mr S has put his foot down and I’ve been banned from the workroom this week.  And to be fair, I’m not really missing it.  I’ve not even done that much knitting either, although I do only have about eight rows of cuff to do to finish Little Stitch’s cable cardigan.  I’m determined to finish that this week.

The good news is that we now have in our happy hands the paperwork we need to complete to finalise Little Stitches adoption.  As we’ve completed the obligatory 10 week period, we just need to fill  in the form in triplicate, hand over a cheque, and wait for the court to squeeze us into the schedule.  Then she’ll be our little girl in law as well as our hearts.

It’s a statement.  Not an instruction.

Ma Stitches is back in the civilisation of Surrey (after a 7 1/2 hour 450 mile round trip on Monday).

Mr Stitch is at the office.  No doubt sweltering in the heat.

Little Stitch is at her grandparents.

Charlie is asleep on the rug.  Alice is asleep in the garden.

I am tackling the European Laundry Mountain.  I’ve done 2 loads already this morning. Just the 7 to go!

However, in between, I’m off to put the workroom back together after the boiler engineer had to move everything to get to the boiler each of the 4 times it took him to visit and finally figure out what the hell was wrong with the boiler. No, wait!  It was Mr S who worked it out.  Silly me.

Once that’s done I should get a couple of hours of cutting out done before I go collect the wee one.  Bliss.

In the meantime, here are a couple of photos to prove that even in our inclement climate, you can still have a little bit of summer in your garden:

On Monday I called into Tesco to pick up a few groceries, which included a bottle of cognac.

At the till, all the items beep, beep, beeped their way through the scanner until the bottle of cognac arrived in the hands of the assistant.

She looked at me with an apologetic smile.

“Do you have any ID?  I’m sorry but we have to ask.  We need to be sure you’re over 25.”

Monday was my 43rd birthday!!!!!!!!

Happy birthday to ME!