Vexation and beaching

When one's computer crashes due to spyware from MySpace (that filthy spy-riddled site) after one has written quite a long blog entry, this really has an amazing effect on one's psyche. And this is generally negative and should be avoided in company.

Yet, this happened last night and made us late for a very important date (with the Italians). I am only now able to look at Blogger without reproach after almost 24 hours, even though this time it does not appear to be Blogger's fault.

So, this entry will not be as spicy and fun as the other one...

Anyhoo, after E finished squiring his mam, Katharine and myself around the craft show (during which he wasn't entirely miserable since he had 9,745 songs on his Walkman to drown out the sounds of 48,298 females voices whittering around our path through the booths. He also managed to amuse himself with purchases of whiskey and cheese. I am v.v. proud of self since I bought no yarn; although some chic little stitch markers caused me to fumble and are now part of my brilliant collection of objets de knit), the sun had come out. Although it rained about three times yesterday, and had hailed twice in 15 hours, the sun between was just gorgeous! (Apparently, yesterday morning, there was SNOW in the valleys! Oh maybe we will have another White Thanksgiving! And I will write a song.)

Anyhoo, since it was so lovely, it was decided that a trip to the beach was in order. After all, we missed a whole weekend last weekend... On the way, though, we stopped off at Cosmeston Lakes, an old limestone quarry, which is now a park. We ventured into a large mass of bird life, clamouring for food of any sort: cameras, buttons, small dogs. When children appear with bags of bread, chaos is unavoidable when 40 swans are about. Swans are saucy and like to pose for pictures.

Then to the beach, but a different beach than the last pictures. The Captain's Wife is a pub on the mainland just past Penarth and right across from Sully Island; we have been there before, but sadly minus camera, rendering this return really crucial. The beach here is all pebble, no sand, and Sully Island is a tidal island only connected during low tide. This island has the second highest rate of tidal rise and fall in the world, rendering it a bit dangerous to risk staying out on the island too long. I have not ventured there yet, but, oh yes, I fully intend to do so. There is reportedly a track of dinosaur prints there, the only one of its kind in Britain!

Amongst the detritus of the beach, some cool bricks with the maker marks readable seemed to me to foretell a presence in my room as bookends. This process quite bemused E, so he pretended that I was just a crazy stranger following him. When this didn't work, he attempted to shame me into leaving these grand finds behind by telling me that people in a van were watching me, but this technique did not work. I have three bricks :)

It was bitterly cold and blustery, and following the photographic and masonry excursion, we went into The Captain's Wife to recover with some mussels in white wine sauce and a Guinness. During this respite, E managed to discover within 15 minutes features on my camera that have escaped my skill over the past 15 months. This embarrassed me slightly, and so while he returned to the beach to try the settings changes, I got my knitting out and busied myself :)

Then it was sunset (picture courtesy of E). And time to get back and try to Blog before going to dinner with the Italian contingent (but we know how that turned out)

Dinner was at Y Mochyn Du (The Black Pig). This is a genuinely Welshy pub on the western side of Bute Park, by Sophia Gardens. Excellent atmosphere and a great combination of Welsh and other traditional dishes. Pate is irrestistible at any time, so we definitely got that, and then also split laverbread and cockles (delish!!!!!) and Welsh Rarebit (which is an admittedly good but overrated dish. It is toast with a mixture of cheese, ham and onion -- woo hoo). There was a piano, which proved too irresistible to a certain showman (it is my studied opinion that we will perhaps have musical entertainment at Thanksgiving...). Rugby was on, and France was beaten by New Zealand, and, finally, knitting was discussed by nearly everyone, with varying degrees of interest.

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Today, I have visited the big Tesco (ick) and purchased a v. massive turkey; found that corn syrup is not available in this country nor is cherry pie filling; joined the Cardiff Stitch'n'Bitch group online and made plans to attend their next knitting night at The Chapter on the 28th; received confirmation that Lindsey Cousine will be visiting the week before Christmas (oh, hoorah! Planning and entertainment! Christmas Markets, castles and cousines!); met Kath and Katharine at Shot in the Dark for some knitting and therapy; and planned to make Mexican for dinner... (pause) But have just realised that I have no avocado.... bloody vexation.