Knit knit, Sell sell, Hitch a lift

I THINK there is a certain amount of irony in the world at any one time, and right now the God of Irony is finding me and my little life rather hysterical.

 Last week I had a lovely weekend in Bath on a mate's hen party; despite all my fears about swimsuits, strange people and shoestring spending, it went very well. Until it was time to travel home. 

 It turns out I wasn't making things up (see previous postings), my car was making noises and 45 minutes from home, it made about £600-worth of noise before dying at the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere, just as it was getting dark. 

 Two hours later, after many tears, one-too-many useless breakdown people and an organised loan from the Bank of Dad, I was traveling home in a tow truck. 

 The cam belt has gone on my car, for those of you who don't know what that is, I have no idea either, except it provokes a sharp intake of breath and a grimace from those in the know.  It's bad news.  My trusty mechanic has reassured me he can fix it, but it'll take at least two weeks and will serve as a painful reminder

to my father that children are an expensive lifelong commitment (so, so sorry dad). 

  In the meanwhile finding a way to travel the nine miles into work in a rural area has been a constant source of worry for me, colleagues have really rallied round and I'm humbled by their kindness. 

 But it does amuse me that in the time I'm trying to avoid hitchhiking at any cost, publishing giant Penguin has announced that there will be a sixth book in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy trilogy, and it is to be written by Eoin Colfer - the writer behind popular kids' book Artemis Fowl.

 Called And Another Thing, I'm approaching this news with caution. I first read Douglas Adams' inspired stories nearly 20 years ago and I'm not just sure anyone could even come close to the way he managed to combine humour, science and story-telling. It's mind-boggling. 

I'VE started selling CDs on Amazon. They belong to my other half - and before you ask, yes he does know. It's a good way to make cash and free up some space in our little wallpaper-frenzied house. In less than a month we've sold 12 CDs. Despite being in the middle of a supposed credit crunch it seems people are still keen to buy music. And through doing that I am developing a smug glow, knowing that I am supporting my local post office.

 In fact I've been to mine so often in the past week to post these CDs I'm sure they must think I'm only popping in for company. I'm almost expecting to receive an invite to their Christmas party this year.

IT'S that time of year again when my shameful knitting habit goes into hyperdrive as I attempt to make hundreds of little woolly hats. Why? Because a, I like knitting, b, it helps me clear my yarn stash (a collection of literally hundreds of half-used balls of wool which normally resides down the back of my couch under the optimistic belief that one day they'll be transformed into an afghan blanket) and c, it is for a good cause.

 Two days ago I could be heard squealing as I opened my post to find my information pack for the big knit; an annual fundraising event in aid of Age Concern. 

 Organised by Innocent Smoothies, the little hand-knitted (or crocheted) hats will don the tops of the drink bottles when they are sold in Sainsburys.

 The two companies will donate 50p to Age Concern for every hat-wearing smoothie sold. 

 Over 25,000 older people die from cold related illnesses every winter, and in a society in which fuel costs are growing, that number could increase.

 So until 17 October I will be making as many little hats as I can, and older people aren't the only ones to benefit from this.  Whilst my needles will be occupied with the big knit, assorted friends and family can sigh with relief that I won't have time to create "useful" (read "unwanted") or "warm and practical" ("itchy and mis-shapen") items for them. Who says charity doesn't begin at home?

The gift of giving

THIS week was my dad's birthday, and it has got me thinking about the dos and don't of gift-buying.

 Every year without fail my father will meticulously write and send out a list of (mainly Bob Dylan- linked) presents he would like for the big day; listing the cheapest price and website we could source it from.  To be honest the only thing he hasn't started doing is attaching a link to the direct site and item in the email (although I bet he will now).

 I'll normally stick to the list, occasionally straying if my predominantly stunted candyfloss brain allows me creative choice. 

 However other family members will ignore it altogether, choosing to buy gifts that they have heard him mention many moons ago, or things they think he will like, or even more risky; items they think he needs.

 It's amazing what a minefield of awkwardness and complications the whole saga can be.

 As far as I can see, the problems are this:

•  Stick to the list: Easy, failsafe, however lacking in imagination and it is amazing just how many phone calls you'll make to other family members to check they aren't buying the same thing from the list. It's also been known to split families as they race to buy up the solitary three CDs - it's every man for himself in the quest to get Amazon to deliver the items to you first.  
  
• Buy things a person needs: These are gifts the birthday present receiver (BPR) will never ever admit to needing. You'll watch them cheerfully struggle to sweep a whole house of carpet with a dustpan and brush as they insist it's no bother -  anything to make sure their next paypacket doesn't instantly disappear on a 1850watt SupaVac. And also it's their one birthday of the year (unless you're related to the queen) - they don't want one of their three birthday wishes to go on domestic appliances.
• Buying the things you think they might like: This produces the most comical results because you are relying on the inner depths of your imagination, balanced out with how you view this person. Many a tear has been shed by the BPR as they rip off the wrapping paper to find.... oh. Most people will emit that response involuntarily. Those who are great at lying, have had botox or were a beauty queen in a previous life will manage to maintain a fixed, teeth-gritting smile and murmur that the selection of ski socks or pink fluffy teenage gifts (at the age of 34) was "just what they wanted". Expect a vast amount of resentment from the BPR as they suddenly realise just how you really view them. Observers to this moment may wish to have a camera at the ready to capture a day which you will all no doubt look back and laugh at... Well, assuming you don't suddenly lose contact with them. 
  

Seriously, I think there's a lot to be said for vouchers. And if you're having a birthday any time soon, go easy on the gift givers; becoming another year older will surely give you far less grey hairs than trying to buy a present.