I realised, when I put my out-of-office on for the course I'm at tomorrow (allegedly), that I must not have missed a day of school since before Feb half term. A record! Although maybe this is also why I'm somewhat over it.
Hobbies continued. I half-heartedly picked away at the Latvian mitten I am reknitting since it was working up too tight. Now I am slightly concerned it will be too loose but, meh. We'll see. I wound a gorgeous blue skein over the weekend to start another jumper but then lost confidence in my planned modification almost immediately after cast on, I think it would end up being much too wide in the neck, so I have stopped again. Mr Z and I continued watching The Pitt; I've nearly finished The Song of Penelope; I'm two-thirds of the way through Anxious Generation. I went to the sauna, yoga, a PT session and the gym twice.
This weekend has been glorious Wonderwool - and it really was glorious, possibly the best weather we've ever had. The halls were actually a little bit too warm on Saturday afternoon, when I arrived. I committed heresy on Saturday morning by driving to Powis Castle for a visit first. Clive features heavily in the A-level course I teach and I have been very keen to go, but it is three hours' drive from here and I just don't think Ginge would put up with it.
Powis was indeed beautiful but I was gutted to discover that the Clive museum was closed for essential works. No mention of this on the website. I made do with touring the rest of the house, but the vibe is very much, 'We've had to give you our house but we are very unhappy about it so will seriously limit your access' (see also: St Michael's Mount) and so everything was dark and difficult to access. Not really a problem, I enjoyed it a lot anyway. I will have to repeat visit, thanks to not being able to get into the Clive section yesterday. There's not much mention of the man himself around the rest of the place, even the portraits of his parents aren't labelled (I had to ask), but there was this statue, connected to him:
This is a 1st century Roman statue of a cat, apparently very rare because cats aren't often featured in Roman art. Clive bought this as a gift for his wife in the year that he died. I've been having fun imagining the subtext to this as a gift. Was he just trying to find the rarest and most expensive present he could? Heaven knows he could afford it. But I feel like there's a slight air of 'you're emasculating me'.
Separate Wonderwool post to follow, with the goodies. I was very restrained this year. I gave far more to the Air Ambulance stall than I bought and I didn't buy anything at all on Saturday, very unusual for me. In the end, though, there were a few bits I just couldn't pass by.
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