It's all been quiet here in Plain Tales Towers for the last few days. My apologies. It's the assessment season, so I've been planning assessment timetables, marking papers and going through my children's books with a fine tooth comb to be absolutely convinced about the level they are working at this week. Add to that the Year 5 residential that left for Cumbria at 8.30 on Friday morning that I have just got home from and I hope you understand my tardiness.
The residential was brilliant, we went to Robinwood North Pennines Centre and it was brill. I will go into more detail at some later point, but I need to go and have a bath in the lovely rose petal bath bombs my Secret Pal sent (the joints are protesting a bit!). I loved it, the kids loved it, I actually did the caving (thanks to Daniel in my group, it's quite likely I'd have had a panic attack without him talking me through it), but there was one teeny little down side...
My sock knitting bag was put in a bin bag on the coach with the kids' hand luggage, and was inadvertently taken back to Widnes. The bin bag was spotted at some point over the weekend in the depot, but the coach driver could not find it this morning, having already put it into and taken it out of the bin once...
It has a brand new set of Addi DPNs and some brand new Rowan Calmer for a new project, but worse than that, I was about 8 rows away from grafting the toe on a sock that I'd designed and knitted for my Dad. OK, it was only 4x2 rib, nothing fancy, but I was working on measurements, not a pattern.
So... my very first own designed sock is MIA.
Ho hum.
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