Been packing this morning, I don't have many clothes which comes as a bit of a surprise, lot of it is due to me hating shopping, can't be bothered to walk round shops anyway, and when a particular dearth of something comes around, it is mainly because a lot of stuff is in the wash regime, I will hasten to M&S online and order some necessity. Sometimes I want to take myself in hand, order some natty jackets and matching skirts/trousers but never do.
So 2 minutes packing, or slinging some clothes into a bag, my love of course is so ultra neat that he looks on in horror at my untidiness. This tidiness comes from past working in the studio and working in Japanese studios and museums having all his tools and brushes laid out precisely on the work bench, so that now it has infiltrated to books on tables, knives and forks it becomes a joke between us my habit of distributing books haphazardly on all surfaces, patchwork materials and my spun wools in baskets and dishes.
Today I have decided to spin 'Pegasus's' apalca fleece, a deep dark brown it leaves smudges on my fingers, I know Pegasus the alpaca resides in his field with companions just along the road to Middle Mill from Solva, such knowledge gives me pleasure as I spin. It reminds me of Solva Mill which I follow on Facebook, and I have a faint sense of homesickness. But we are off on saturday firstly to Seahenge, been reading Francis Pryor on it, his wife Maisie conserved the timbers at Flag Fen before they went into the museum. It is not a henge of course, maybe not even a circle more a shrine with the central upturned tree used for excarnation, Pryor likened it to the Street House ritual enclosure coincidentally, which is just outside Whitby, and I had just written about!
After Seahenge Whitby of course on Sunday, both looking forward to it, even if it is only for decent fish and chips and the Magpie restaurant, and my favourite walk by the East cliff, though I must not forget my grandchildren.
Also been reading Britain After Rome (The Fall and Rise 400 to 1070) by Robin Fleming, fascinating the so called 'dark ages' but it was complete breakdown after the withdrawal of Roman authority from Britain. Can you imagine our councils just not being there, roads and towns fell into disrepair, crafts disappeared no pots made, they were even to be found using the old prehistoric cremation urns as domestic pots, I suppose having emptied them out first.