My Green Socks
Last night, dressed in colours that would definitely fall into the neutral palette, I decided to wear my new green socks. I finished knitting them a week or so ago but hadn't yet gotten around to wearing them. It's been cool enough some days - at least in the morning and evenings - but I was waiting for something. A special occasion maybe? I don't know.
I don't wear green. It makes me look sick. Just a green room makes me look sick. I have to wonder why someone decided to paint the Ladies bathroom at church in green - except that no one asked my opinion. Just looking into a mirror mounted on green walls - and they can be so pale that they almost look like once-were-white-but-now-are-dirty-and-not-green-at-all walls - makes me look like death warmed up. It does nothing for my skin tone. Well nothing flattering that is.
I'm not even overfond of the colour green so I don't know what possessed me to knit socks in what the catalogue described as "avocado". But knit them I did, and last night I wore them because I wanted a tiny bit of colour. They could barely be seen beneath my outfit except when I sat down but I knew they were there.
Not that last night was anything special in the general scheme of things. My flute teacher had decided that it would be fun if her students could get together and play some three-part and four-part pieces. Fun? I would've chosen a different word to describe the ordeal but that's just me.
Son#5 decided to come along "to support me" (his words not mine) since DH was out of town and not expected back in time and also because he wanted to hear me play "proper songs" for a change (again his words). I don't know what he thinks I've been playing all this time but it obviously hasn't been "proper"!
So we went and I played and afterwards I asked Son#5 what he thought of it all.
"There was one part when you weren't all together," he replied honestly and to my mind surprisingly because I didn't think he was that interested in music or that he had an ear for it.
I explained that we'd had separate parts and that it may have sounded that way but the overall effect should have been musical.
Son#5, not hampered by any desire to spare my feelings, disagreed. He was adamant that even if we were playing different parts our timing was out. Badly.
He was probably right.
This was confirmed when my music teacher said afterwards, "Well done - kinda." I'm not sure if she was talking to just me or to the whole group but it probably doesn't matter.
I know I was bad.
But at least my socks were good!