It’s been a good week for moomins. This year Finland (and everywhere else) celebrates the 100th birthday of the moomins’ creator, Tove Jansson. And for those of you who weren’t freaked out the tiniest bit by Little My, here she is in all her knitted glory:
Yep. Still scary.
It’s been slightly tougher for Boz Johnson. He’s trying to drum up a bit of support for tech start-ups in London’s Tech City (dodgy-looking roundabout with ugly buildings, clearly in need of a hefty dose of gentrification – or a wrecking ball). The upshot of it seems to be, unless you can chuck a massive wad of cash at it, people will probably go elsewhere – there’s NOTHING worth looking at as one stares out of one’s window in search of inspiration, technical or otherwise. Oh yes, and the US stock exchange is a bit friendlier for a flotation too. Follow the cash people…
Was pretty confident that someone somewhere had found the time and the inclination simultaneously to crochet BJ. (Unfortunate initials right there. No elaborating, so don’t ask.)
In other news, Ed Balls sets is sights at the big job at the exchequer by ‘modestly’ saying something along the lines of feeling ‘daunted by the task.’ You should be, Mr Balls, you should be. There was clearly an angling here for a ‘No, you’ll be fabulous, Mr Balls’. Angle away mate. Nothing doing. But have one of these, it might help:
And here’s a surprise; no one’s knitted an Ed Balls yet. Not even a rubbish one. And there we have it – true social acceptance is found in the fashioning of a woollen commemorative effigy by complete strangers. Nothing doing here either. In your dreams.
Another way of achieving National Treasure status is by appearing in the Archers. Bradley Wiggins has achieved this honour. He has also received the honour of being eternally enshrined in knitting:
Sideburns and everything. That’s art that is. Once you’ve achieved these dizzy heights of national and international recognition and adulation – where else is there to go? I have no idea.
It’s not been a great week for the Anglican Church, as my ageing parents have scooped the BBC, but never mind; the BBC has now caught up and run an article on ‘chancel repair liability’. If you were under the impression that the Anglican Church is a Christian organisation, you might want to reconsider. A year or so ago, my papa who was church treasurer at the time (tiny village in Staffordshire, a lot like Dibley) was told by the diocese that if the diocese may make claims on relevant residents in the village to pay for repairs to the church chancel (regardless of whether the residents attend the church, or are Christian) due to a medieval law. Already some people have come a cropper, one couple lost £250,000 by being screwed over. My pops was a bit uncomfortable about bankrupting old ladies so he ditched the church. But now the BBC is talking about it – better late than never.
What would Jesus do? He’d suggest if it’s a knitted church, you’re probably OK. Better yet, get a church that doesn’t screw people over, have walls, ceilings, collections, roof funds, or dodgy politics. That’s why he wasn’t very popular.
What else has the BBC been up to?
Well every now and then, something comes up that you just KNOW a sub-editor has been waiting years for. And here we have it. As Pope Francis reaches his first year of international go-getting, meeting and greeting, and redefining catholicism to the point that the poor catholics don’t really know what to do with themselves any more, we get THIS headline.
TOP OF THE POPES
Oh yes. I know that moment when your years of waiting to use the PERFECT headline is over. You have stumbled across a genius headline and you know only need to bide your time while planetary forces conspire to bring the ideal news even tumbling into your lap like a randy salmon. Success and global acclaim is assured. You see your treasured headline in print, you overhear people dissing your cheap pun on the train on the way to work. And you know you have ARRIVED.
Go then. Have a knitted pope.
OK he’s not the pope, but he’s the closest I could get. Yep that’s right. It’s Knitler.
Talking of wanton violence, apparently Eric Cantona has been charged with ‘common assault’. He’s an ex-footballer; would he be capable of any other type of assault?
And finally, in a story to warm the cockles of your heart (yes every heart has them, they’re not to be confused with the Purkinje fibres or the Bundle of His), a schoolboy has pointed out a grammatical error on a carton of orange juice and Tesco has changed the packaging in response. If I had children, THAT would be my child. And I thought schools were teaching the nation’s children a load of balls (sorry Ed). Makes a change from the ‘full-stops and capital letters’ grammar I got stuck with. If I didn’t know the country’s going to the dogs, I’d wonder if it wasn’t. But it is, so I don’t. I’ll just sit here and self-righteously poke textile fun at it while it does.
OK OK, here it is. You haven’t read any of the above, you’re just waiting for the shark of the week:
I don’t know about you, but the kid is more freaky than the shark. Wowsers, some people have to babysit stuff like that. I’d rather paddle a meat-scented lilo in a tank of discerning sharks who realise it’s a while since they last had a vegetarian.
Have a good weekend.