* They do this colour-coded picture thing that shows where various genetic thingies indicate genes from the 3 major geographic regions where humans originated - Africa, Asia or Europe. The examples were all mixes of the three, but mine is all the same colour. Clearly my ancestors were boring stick-in-the-muds who didn't move around much (except somehow making their way from Pakistan to England).
Anyway, it seems that I'm genetically pretty damn sound. I have one copy of the APOE ε4 variant which means I have twice the average risk of developing Alzheimers when I'm older, but at 14% it's still pretty low. I have half the average risk of getting breast cancer. Weirdly even though my eyesight is crap, I have lower risk of it getting really crap than average. And I don't carry anything nasty. So I was able to tell The Kid "Congratulations, your Mum is worth breeding from."
Remember how I was going to warp up my loom last night? Well it turns out that since it was so cold it was the perfect activity to keep warm without lighting the fire. Only, true to tradition it didn't get finished. I have never once managed to do this without ballsing it up at least once. You'd think it'd be easy, right? And maybe for other folks it is.
The deal is, you tie one end of the thread to the roller end of the loom, then thread loops through the reed with a little hooky thing and loop them over a peg X distance away to get the lengths. I misjudged the length vs how much thread I had - hilarity ensued which mostly involved unthreading the bloody thing back through the reed and rewinding the ball. An hour later I started again. Round the warp bar, through the reed, walk across the room, loop, rinse repeat. And at the end of it I still ran out of thread before I reached the full width. But I'm only 6 inches short so bugger it, that'll do.
The next step is to cut the threads at the peg end and wind the excess onto the roller, leaving about a foot hanging through the reed. Then you get to hook every second thread through the little hole in the reed so one's in the hole and the next one's in the slot for the moving up and down to create the weave.
This kills my back and takes fricking ages. And after that I couldn't be arsed tying the ends off. Luckily the cat's not big on playing with yarn *stares pointedly at cat you hear me Fric* and it'll be safe like this until tonight when I can tie it all off and make a start on the weaving. Weaving's repetitive and can be tedious, so I'm interspersing it with spinning more wool to break the monotony. Also kind of wondering if I could hold this in my lap to do the work instead of having to lean over a bench. Hmm..
Every time I do this I wonder why I do it. Then I look at the things I've made and go "Hey look I made that!" and am happy. I'm kind of sad that it wasn't till after Mum died and I inherited her spinning wheel that I got into this, but also I'm glad that in a way, I'm carrying on the tradition. Mum's stuff was pretty and elegant. Mine's.. um.. quirky. But, TRADITION!
Hey guess what? The Kid got a certificate from his school for excellence in maintained effort in class! I was all "Who are you and what have you done with my son?" but really, I'm very proud - he's not often been up for recognition from *cough* authoritative establishments and usually I only hear from them when he's not doing well, so YAY! I was all gushy, he was all *nonchalance* - mostly I feel a sense of how far we've travelled in the last couple of years, and this is like a marker on that road to show it's not just my imagination.
I'm getting my hearing tested tonight. I suspect it'll come out somewhere between 'keep an eye on it' and 'here's a referral to a specialist'. I have my fingers crossed that there's a petrified baked bean stuck in there from when I was four or something, and its removal will reveal perfect hearing that's been protected for all these years by the presence of the bean.
I can dream, can't I?