Friday, 9 July 2010

Steak vs mince

I started writing a post this week about our lovely new PM & the tribulations faced by people who give up everything they own, have ever known or ever loved, and spend days in a leaky unseaworthy boat in the hope of starting a new life free from persecution... and how ironic it is that her parents were able to up sticks and make a new life in a country of their choosing, at a time of their choosing, bringing their dignity and their possessions along with them... and now she's denying people, whose situations are far worse than "her health will suffer if you don't move to somewhere warm" (let's try "we don't like your religious beliefs so we're going to rape your women and kill your children and you have no recourse" or "your skin is the wrong colour, so you can't go to school", or "you eat different foods to us, so you can't have a job", for starters) the same opportunity.  It is not a crime to seek asylum in another country.  Guess we can't say that too loudly or too often.

I didn't finish it, because my moral outrage was too strong to let me think straight.

In addition, I am well and truly over this week.  My wonderful new job has a few glitches in it, and for the first time since changing jobs, I wonder if I've done the right thing... maybe I jumped too quick?  

Ah well.  On the good news side, Doc Rosie got her birthday present, the beautiful Julia Froggie, but in light of the above... maybe she'll need a name change?  My Taiwanese customer got her 60 lavender bags and apparently was very happy with them, which is nice, and I made bits and pieces that didn't rate photographs... and I found out that Eckersley's Arts and Crafts supplies has a huge selection of ribbon, so I bought a few metres:

There's something inherently beautiful in ribbons, I think... here's some I already own:

Is this a fetish, do you think?  So ephemeral, so fleeting but so functional, so useful and so beautiful.  Reminds me of William Morris's exhortation to "Have nothing in your house which you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful"...

It's nearly as good as being a fabriholic!

And so, gentle reader, it's nearly time for bed, so... ciao for now!