Monday, August 18, 2014

Listening to Louise Nicholas

I knew I wasn't going to enjoy it one bit, but I needed to watch the dramatisation of Louise Nicholas' story. I felt like I owed it to her to sit through the entire, horrible series of events, that it was the least I could do. Because I wasn't any use to her at the time when she most needed to be believed - when that news broke years ago it was just background noise, only dimly acknowledged as something going on beyond the edges of what was going on in my life.

During that scene, when she retells what happened in that house with those disgusting examples of human beings - and policemen - my gut curdled. The anger kept me up all night and swamped my other feelings, which were of admiration at Nicholas' bravery in speaking up.

I'll never be able to understand why she couldn't run away when Scholum turned in his car to take her to that house, nor why she kept it a secret for so long, as though it was something that was wrong with her rather than something that was wrong with those men. But it doesn't make what they did to her any less despicable. And if I were a man then at some point I would probably have apologised for being one.

Nine

TLM turned 9 last week, and we held her birthday party in the weekend - at home. At our tiny little working man's cottage in which our living room also houses the dining table and the fridge (they're the overflow).

8 girls all in the house at once, making lots of squeaky noise and competing at who could perform the most entertaining death scene.

8 girls gobbling packets and packets of popcorn and marshmallows (and sundry other snacks).

It was a beautiful day (considering it's mid-winter) and we were supposed to have an outdoor picnic, but that didn't quite work out so we ended up with a floor completely covered in bits of popcorn, hand-made "smores", raspberry lemonade and hundred & thousands that fell of the fairy bread.

And I hadn't spent so much effort cleaning the house (both before and after the party) since last spring. Exhausting!

A hat plus two and a half sweaters

Just a check-in on my knitting progress...

This is not a skirt - it's the body of a stranded knit jumper

a cowl in Zealana heron

the back of a surf top for the boy. It is taking a LOT of yarn and time...

A short, barn-red cardigan for me