In the evening we went to the Carlton, where
On Sunday I met my parents and their hired van at
In a burst of energy we even managed to do some gardening between my parents leaving and me going off to Peterhouse for choir.
Choir on Sunday afternoon was poorly-attended; I got there late (with soil-stained fingers) but at least I got there at all. Still, we managed a very respectable performance of Finzi's God is gone up despite not having more than two people to any part. I got back to find that O had discovered BEES in our shed, the enterprising little stripy b*ggers having managed to turn part of an old rug into a rather furry-looking nest; grudgingly impressed though I am, we've left the rug -- bees and all -- on the lawn in the hope that the bees will find somewhere warmer (and, more importantly, Not In Our Shed) to live. Though it would be nice if they hung around somewhere nearby to keep on pollinating our rather lovely yellow roses.
On Sunday night I finished making my first ever bit of knitting with actual shape (rather than just rectangles sewn together) -- a hat for a baby, but because it was just a prototype it's made in non-baby-friendly wool, so I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it now. It's too small for a grown-up and too big for a badger, and too handle-hole-less for a teacosy (we tried), but I'm surprisingly pleased with myself for having made a thing that actually looks like a thing. Next up will be a real baby hat, in nice soft babyproof yarn, for a real baby (not mine!).
On Monday morning we had a well-deserved lie-in,
Oh, and, I know I still haven't written about singing, but I do still intend to, honest. It's on the to-do list, along with the other 1,596,253 things that may or may not get finished in this lifetime. What do you mean we don't get another? I want my money back!