I am just about to go and get the plane for Wales…and this afternoon I shall meet Bonnie Faye, and I just can’t wait. Her first week has flown, and Leo and Natasha have been absorbed with the new addition to their family, and worrying about feeding and bathing and what not, and finally after a lot of nagging they sent me a picture of them all out looking at the sea, and little Bonnie squinting into the sunshine. The pictures they sent are all locked into a flickr account, so I cannot share, but she is lovely, long legs and a pursed little mouth, and she makes squeaky bird like noises when I hear her on the telephone. Roll on 4pm when I shall see her at last.

This week for me has been good, time to catch up, have a rest from sewing, and just get used to being home. Spring is in the air, and snow drops are making fairy circles in the cathedral grounds.

One man seemed to think that the weather was positively balmy as he marched along the street in trousers and jacket but in bare feet. He did look odd, and it wasn’t as though he was a poor person. Maybe he was doing it for a charity? I followed him and snapped a pic, and felt like a woolly spy in my socks and shoes and coat and scarf. It was NOT a warm day.

The television has been bewitching me with all the wonderful variety. It is such a treat after the constant rounds of BBC World and CNN…and although I am as horrified as everyone about the disappearance of the Malaysian plane, it is nice to spend a whole evening with BBC 4 and watch Margot Fonteyn in the Sleeping Beauty, and then a documentary with the Spanish leading ballerina with the Royal Ballet, Tamara Rojo talking about the difficulties of dancing both the black and white swan in Swan Lake.

She was so amazing and I didn’t even know she existed. I read about her and her list of achievements were like a small novelette. Then I read about how she danced with a burst appendix, then her bunion blew up to the size of a tennis ball, and she had it operated and then back she goes on to her toes and leaps about with her beautiful face as serene as though she had just had a bubble bath. I sat up nicely when I was watching. I tried not to think about my knee that I grazed whilst kneeling on the floor when I accidentally crushed the TV channel changer and gouged a small hole. I tried to be stoic and not wince when I walked.

Before I left I did a lot of work on the ‘I spy’ quilt, and I must say I am pleased with it. Also did a lot on Noah and finally finished the bunnies for Bonnie.

It is good having a rest, and since I have been home I have spread all the quilts I have made out, so that they can get an airing, and they really transform the room into a colourful yurt as you might see in Outer Mongolia.

I see Ricky won Crufts…such fun.

I did dip in and out of the programme to view the proud owners in an assorted collection of shoes, galloping along beside their dogs. Paton with silver buckles seemed quite the thing for the toy breeds, and brogues for the sportier rescue dogs. The judge always wore her sensible flats. I remember back when we had an Afghan hound called Sabah, I had visions that I would show her off and spent hours imagining what to wear. Should have spent more time training her, as she was just hell bent in rounding up the neighbour’s sheep and could run like the blooming wind. She soared over the fence we built to keep her in, then finally she had Iain’s sheep all in a tight ball one day, but one managed to escape and so she bit it quite savagely and so that was that…she had to go.

She was a night mare though, loved running in the sand and the bracken and I spent hours and hours trying to comb out half the country side from her coat. She had to go, she was a menace to sheep, so I never did make the show ring. But if I had, I think a nice pair of red wellies might have suited her personality!

Now…on on to Cardiff and granny duties!