Carry On Mr Bowditch just got intersting

Johnny Tremain still hasn’t come in at the library, sometimes I wonder if the interlibrary loan gets influenced by my overdue books – I know it doesn’t, but post hoc ergo proctor hoc is so convincing.

M has been giving me that sigh at bedtime reading as if Carry On Mr Bowditch is some sort of schoolwork masquerading as a bedtime story – well, um, yeah, they all are, even the Scarlet Pimpernel, but anyway, now that Nathaniel is at sea, and their are more funny things popping up, M is asking for more chapters.  If only friends and family didn’t drop dead so often in the 18th century, it would be a more cheerful book.

K’s friends were allowed to play down stairs yesterday, but I’m not sure they had a good time I did let them make honey/milk balls from the More with Less cookbook, but I made them help clean up K’s room.

I’ve started trying to make myself a purple wrap dress in cotton jersey fabric.  But I didn’t buy a pattern, and I’m out of tissue paper to copy other patterns onto for my hybrid dress.  I think I’ll be wearing my pink turtle neck and brown wool skirt for Easter, but maybe they go better with the sunrise service outside in New England anyhow – I’m not into freezing.