The teenage tunnel is a long, dark one. There is light at the end of it. If truth be told I think we entered the tunnel long before time. I thought sixteen would be the start, turns out sixteen was only the peak. Generally life is much calmer now with glimpses that the now 'infamous' teenage brain is leaving the station. I say 'infamous' because it's the role of the Grandparents (in particular a psychotherapist Grandmother) to explain away all unsavoury parts of their grandchild's behaviour when they get to this horrible age. Heck, there's even a book on it. E describes with some relish, to her friends, the titles of some of her Grandmother's psychotherapy and relationship counselling books. Let's just say this is not a grey haired Grandmother who sits in a wing backed armchair with a battered copy of Reader's Digest.
So, the light at the end of the tunnel. Things like;
'I'm making myself a Green Tea, would you like one?' Yes, I surely would, just as soon as I've picked myself up from the floor where I've fainted from shock.
Or 'I'm popping in to town, is there anything you'd like me to pick up?'. No I really can't think of anything while my head absorbs the thoughtfulness of what you've just said.
Or 'I've saved the bath water in case you wanted to use it for the dogs'. This was a particularly welcome one as they are pretty much always filthy and stinking and I can never resist the chance to have them smelling of gorgeous bubble bath if only for one evening.
(Note: I don't actually say these replies, that's just my sarcastic sense of humour. In fact I try and look and sound as casual as possible, as though I'm not in shock!)
The biggest surprise was perhaps the morning we argued, about something that, it transpires, needn't have turned into a disagreement at all. M had a senior moment and forgot something he agreed to a while ago (transportation to and from a concert at Wembley) and I got an absolute earful about how thoughtless E was to assume that he would be available. So I tackled the issue with E and she quite rightly said he agreed to it, said a few unkind things and then stormed off to town leaving me to challenge M about this. He had a sheepish moment and I told him he could fight his own battles in future.
Anyway, she texted from the bus home and said that she had done the rounds of the charity shops, found two nice jackets and bought me a piece of pottery as a peace offering. She was pretty confident it was 'my sort of thing' and she was right. I love it and knew it would be right for hyacinths as soon as I saw it. I've chosen white ones to give a bit of a fresh looking centre piece for our rustic kitchen island.
Meanwhile, on the subject of bowls. I've made four more prototype felt bowls. I'm not happy with any of them. I made a plain bowl but upon felting a strange ridge appeared that was nothing to do with the stitch or pattern. I shall keep trying. All the rejects have found uses around the house.