I was never a Guide or a Brownie. Mum and Dad weren't people who did that sort of thing at all. I remember in possibly fifth class, a new girl came to school. I even remember her name, Sheila Moon. She was the only child of English immigrants and she came to school one day with a Brownie uniform on. Brown dress with yellow tab at neck and a brown beret. It had badges sewn to it, although I don't think many of us were impressed with some of them. I seem to remember one for washing up. To most of us, she was exotic, although not in the sense often used today.
Of course, what we were seeing was really cultural differences. She was shy, understandably so, she had no game skills, she was pasty. However, she was a Brownie. I think her parents found a group nearby and she continued there.
At High School there was one girl who was a Guide. Blue uniform this time and again badges. I think she continued guiding after High School. I knew one woman heavily involved in guiding. Till not long before her death in her 80s, she camped at Orange in the snow every winter with the guides. In 1973, she was made a Member of the British Empire for her services to guiding.
When my sons were small, the eldest pestered me to allow him to join Cubs. His best friend was a cub. This was awkward for us. We had little money for uniform and their father was teaching accountancy at TAFE at night, so I had the three of them at home with me. The group met about 20 minutes walk away, but at some stupid time like 6:00 or 6:30. The others needed a meal and bath but we had to all walk down. Then I had to return home, only to repeat the walk to collect him.
This craze for him died a natural death, thank goodness. This was the boy who read encyclopaedias at night in bed. It took only a couple of weeks for him to be bored stiff. I persevered another couple of weeks and then he dropped out.
All this leads to the motto, Be Prepared. I think it must have been the day today which has been cooler and crisper than most lately. The feel of autumn has returned, at least for a few days. I am preparing for winter. I have had my little swift spinning merrily since lunchtime. I've wound another skein of ailsa's 50/50 merino and silk which I am using for the Lowtide jacket. I'll need that yarn soon. I have one skein left to wind if needed. Ailsa's yarns were always beautiful to wind. I don't remember any breaks in the yarn and certainly no tangles in the skein.
I wound the one and a bit skeins of the Brooklyn Tweed Shelter for a hat and the three skeins of his Loft for a shawl. My table top accumulated the start of a mini compost heap. Lots of vegetable matter fell out of the yarn and lots stayed in and passed through my fingers. I was reminded of some wool I bought from Nundle Mills about ten years ago which even had burs in it. Another couple of small skeins and I am done with the swift for today.
It feels good to be prepared like this. I really do think it's part of the subconscious preparations for winter. Elizabeth Zimmermann speaks of fingers with knitting memory. Preparations for winter are related.
Last night we had an evening at the favourite family pizzeria which used to be only a couple of hundred yards from my former home. Youngest son, whose new position was confirmed a week ago wanted to thank his brothers for all the work and support they gave him in his application and to thank a friend of mine for the general moral support he has been to him. A backstop really. We had a lovely time but the grandchildren were all tired. Two of them had been at the Powerhouse Museum most of the day and their cousins had played soccer. However, we all had a great time.
The World's best Auntie took three napkins to clean this up. It's Nutella.