The weekend was pretty much pure Bank Holiday: unpredictable weather, car maintenance, shuffling furniture around, and gardening. On Saturday afternoon brrm came to keep me company on the drive to take pto452 over to Witchford for her MOT (badly overdue), and ended up helping out above and beyond the call of duty -- it was supposed to be a gentle drive in the sunshine but ended up being half an hour of trying to manoeuvre out from behind the gate, followed by driving across town in the other car to pick up tools, changing a hopelessly flat tyre in the rain, getting stuck in queues of traffic behind an accident on the A10, and then on the way back negotiating with broken ticket-machines at Ely station (panic as I thought my card had been eaten, knowing there was no way I was going to get a new card out of the bank while being midway through switching current accounts). It was actually quite sunny by the time we came to get the train back, but if we'd decided to walk from Witchford to Ely (the original plan) you just know it would have poured down.

In the evening we went to the Carlton, where sphyg had somehow (well, by saying "come to the pub") organised the best impromptu pub-meet in ages. So many people I wanted to talk to, and so little time...

On Sunday I met my parents and their hired van at sion_a's house for a hopefully-final session of furniture-shuffling. Bed, futon, dining table and chairs all slotted in Tetris-style, I did a final scour of the house for junk of mine and threw one last heap in the back of my car (a tatty old chair, an ancient iron, a noticeboard, a cushion, an empty decorative box, what looks like a serial-to-RJ45 cable), and I think that really is actually everything now. The big pieces of furniture are now filling my parents' garage, which will probably defer my dad's plans for a pool table by another few years, but honestly, if he really wanted to play pool, he could always go to the pub. My parents came back for lunch with me and addedentry, where I managed to clear the dining room table enough for four people to eat at it! It's almost like having a house!

In a burst of energy we even managed to do some gardening between my parents leaving and me going off to Peterhouse for choir. addedentry mowed the lawn, and I pulled up enough bindweed to fill a small swimming pool. (Not that we actually have a small swimming pool, which is probably just as well, because if we did, it'd probably be full of bindweed.) In the process I discovered some positively Brobdingnagian rhubarb (which should probably be harvested now before it decides to harvest us), some plants that may turn out to be raspberries if they don't get eaten by the bindweed, and some lemon balm (I smelled it before I saw it, accidentally crushing the fragrant leaves with my clumsy fingers).

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, addedentry having taken the morning off in return for having worked Saturday afternoon, and then pottered around a bit more before I had to go into town for a singing lesson at Peterhouse & he had to go to work. The rumbles of thunder started as we got to Mill Road, and the hailstones hit just as I'd decided to get on my bike in the hope of beating the rain. Quite painful, actually, and I got to Peterhouse all shaky and soggy, but with enough time before the singing lesson to dry my hair under the hand-drier.

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!

Tags: diaryism