Communicating is a full-time job. Get up switch on the computer; check the email; check the mobile messages; get the post; answer the landline; read a text; talk on the mobile; write my blog; send a text - oh yes and talk to my husband....and now there is Facebook. I innocently joined up and am now having to learn another new language and the protocol. Is it rude not to respond when someone writes on your wall and should I respond when poked? How many photos of one event should be put up and how long after an event can you add a very flattering pic of yourself? So much to learn and so little time. And that's the problem. Earlier this week our power was due to be cut off for 5 hours for some urgent work to be done on something electrical. The official letter gave us lists of instructions on how to cope - turn the freezer up, leave one light on; back-up your files etc. The liberating prospect of not having any way of communicating was quite intoxicating!(apart from the mobile of course).
In the event they didn't turn it off after-all. I felt mugged.
Life at carry-a-bag carries on happily. I search for fabric all the time never wanting to pass a charity shop or car boot sale just in case the pattern of my dreams is waiting there for me. I pick up all sorts of other stuff along the way (too good a bargain to ignore)then listen to the radio while sewing or cutting out and share the occasional day with lovely Amy who comes to help me print. Somehow with all the communicating I have to do I still manage to make the bags but am seriously thinking of instigating a power-cut day of my own to remember what life was like when we weren't quite so connected.
love x
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