I know that this is supposed to be a knitting blog, but bear with me.
yum!
A couple of months ago, I was pinching some of Brie's beloved chocolate orange (she would have killed me if she had known, but luckily there are so many segments that a few missing ones aren't noticed!) and I thought that the perfect thing that Brie would like, the most chocolaty-orangy-thing there is or has ever been is an orange Viscount biscuit.
And WHOOSH, just like that, I was back in 1986 eating a Viscount with the crumpled wrapper jagging my sticky palm, Granny passing around the teas for the grownups, all the furniture was brown and patterned (I distinctly remember that!) and Joey, my Granny's faithful budgie was chattering at the side of me.
I don't know how but, in the course of growing up, I had managed to forget all about Joey. This is especially weird as I'm pretty sure that Granny had devoted hours of her time teaching that glorious bird to say all of our names, he may even have sang “Polly put the kettle on” for my benefit, or maybe that was just my mum.
That's the kind of thing that a kid should remember.
Ahhhhh, the memories...
Up to that point, all I had really remembered about Granny’s house and growing up was to not drink Granda's bedroom juice as it is ALWAYS yucky soda water, never lemonade or cream soda; If I stayed in bed, after Granny got up, Granda would let me watch Godzilla cartoon; and that my cousin Billy had to share the May teacup with me, even though it wasn’t fair that my brother Michael got the April teacup all to himself.
Life sometimes dishes out hard lessons.
Being the secret ornithologist that I am, I had to spend the next hours of my life researching budgies, even though I have three cats and there is no possible way that I can have one, and I don’t want one anyway because I can’t stand caged birds. I just had to see one again. And they are just as comical as I remembered.
Kiss me...or else
I then decided that I wanted a painting of one for the wall and, when I couldn’t find one I liked, I decided to make my own. My ambition always exceeds my talent, but I did make something I’m happy with, even though my artist merits are distinctly high-school.
Where am I?
Anyway, I seem to have caught the bug, as next I painted a goldfish for my brother on his birthday – he has just enlarged his pond and is a tad fish obsessed, so I thought it would be apt.
And now I can’t stop painting: which is my excuse for no knitting content!
