I think the first sentence of this article says it all: Strong winds gusting up to 100 km per hour have lashed Melbourne... And the Galumph made me ride in it! 40 km! Look at his shirt for peeps' sake: that's major billowing action! At one stage we'd stopped for a rest, and decided to wait for some people to ride by before we got back on our bikes. After standing there for three minutes, waiting for them to ever so slowly peddle on by, I remarked to Galumph "Geez, how slow are they going!" "Oh!", he replied, "that's about how slow we are today." Right. Ahem.
So today I'm walking around like a bandy legged cowboy. With a pretty bad case of saddle bum, to boot. And I'm suspecting that the bit of colour in my face, as my Dad always so eloquently calls sunburn, isn't from the sun at all. It's WINDBURN.
How was your weekend?
Here's the trial version of the clutch purse that I'm making for the Melbourne crafty bloggers get together thingy. Trial's the right word for it, too. I've learnt the hard way that putting the hot iron onto the polyester blend ribbon means SIZZLE! See the smudge? Sigh. I've artfully hidden the melted hole in the ribbon for the photo, but that smudge just ain't moving. Thank goodness I did a prototype for me, and didn't wreck any destined as gifts. Now that would have been embarassing.
I'm getting a bit nervous about this crafty meetup. What if nobody likes my clutches? What if nobody likes me? I bet I knock something over, or spill a drink on somebody's gorgeous outfit, or fart at an inopportune moment or do something ridiculous, thus inviting the ridicule of the blogging world forever. Oh well. If worst comes to worst and I do trip, spill, make smells and do some godawful braying laugh, then I can always go home to a bottle of wine and Bridget Jones on DVD and reflect that, unlike the first day of school where you come home in tears and know that you still have four more years of this horror ahead of you, I never have to go back again.