13 May 2003 17:49 [link]
boutique
There's something rather wonderful about the sort of specialist shops you find when out and about. Small, slightly dusty emporia, staffed by experts with arcane knowledge. It's the sort of place where you can't quite work out how they make enough money to continue trading.
There's a sewing machine shop just off Shepherd's Bush Green. Unicorn in Oxford. And, as Sara and I found yesterday, there's the crochet shop in Leyton.
She wanted to get yarn and a hook to make a blanket for her cousin's baby, and so we wandered around Leyton looking for something that might do haberdashery. Just as we were giving up, I noticed a place with "Crochet Centre" writ large in the window.
It's the sort of place you walk past and never notice. Yellow cellophane in the windows, obscuring a rag-tag array of balls of wool, pattern books and slightly unhappy looking dolls.
It contained a trio of women, all crocheting. There was a middle aged crone, an old crone and an ancient crone, as is required by narrative tradition in such circumstances. None of them was obviously an employee, but then none of them was obviously not either.
There were shelves and shelves of yarns and wools. Balls, hanks and skeins. Rolls of hooks, needles and purposeful bits of metal. More slightly unhappy looking dolls.
A request for advice brought wonderful dialogue. "Four-ply? You want a three millimetre. Do you want it loose? Maybe a three-fifty. Yes, the lady says it's for a blanket. So you want it to drape. No, a three's too tight."
I love these places. Even finding that they have a web site and do most of their business by mail order does nothing to dispel the magic.
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13 May 2003 16:04 [link]
crimson shame
Oh dear, oh my.
Thanks to Niel for demonstrating that my permalinks aren't exactly perma.
Well they are now.
Nothing like shoddy templating for subverting concepts.
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13 May 2003 11:57 [link]
fry up
Ah, the simple pleasures of a fried breakfast. The ideal:
- sausages
- bacon (unsmoked)
- mushrooms (fried in bacon fat)
- toast (hot, buttered)
- fried eggs
I'm not a fan of the "fried slice" - toast is quite sufficient. Similarly such fripperies as fried tomatoes are unnecessary.
I can't bring myself to try black pudding. No matter how many people tell me it's great, I can't stop thinking "blood clot".
A pot of tea, if I'm feeling traditional. Orange juice if I'm not.
Occasionally I feel a certain revulsion after scoffing it - a sort of post-consumption tristesse - as I feel the fat settle in my stomach, but that's all part of the experience.
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