Two guests today Carol and Ann who are the second Creative Writing Group. They came to see how we did it not sure if they were impressed with our little attempt to produce works of literature. Pat was voted the best and her story appears at the end of this writeup.
John's offering was a girl choosing to be a model rather than train as a doctor. Sheila about inventions. Joan R recounted a chilly tale of murder and a physic who dreamed about it. Brian an historical story about the Saracens. Mine was about the madness of power seeking. Joan E about the detail of care needed to prepare an animal for a County Show. Rosemarie of bones left in the garden might incriminate. Ann B a Guy Fawkes dressed in old clothes. Carol a Christmas blessing of a turkey. Ann's tale was a major story about a scheming wife who killed off her two husbands.
The Body
They watched her -with sideways glances as she withdrew her ancient plastic needles with large wooden knobs from her battered bag.
It was the beginning of winter, and Mrs. Biscuit had decided to join the a knitting group. Now, these ladies had been knitting for many years, almost professionals.
Mrs. Biscuit had not taken up her needles in many a year. She bustled in, hair flying, coat flapping and sat down. "Mrs. Biscuit" one of the ladies asked "why, as your name is Charlotte, are you called Choc "? She gave her a blank stare, the others giggled. There was no answer, so she didn't.
The tattered pattern was barely legible. Cast on 6sts, increase each row until you have 26sts. Right...cast off, cast on, cast off again, it was most peculiar. After an hour she cast off the final stitches and spread the unruly shapeless piece on the table. It rather resembled an octopus. No comments from the "professionals ". Match the markings the pattern commanded and stitch carefully together. Begin stuffing evenly. This she did and spread it on the table, this time it resembled a worm and there were stifled snickers all around, "and this is? " someone asked. Why, its the body she replied.
The next week they all gathered at the appointed place. The needles flashed and many items were produced, the object being an early Christmas sale for their chosen
charity.
Choc Biscuit plodded onward. She now had the body, 2 feet, 2 wings 1 beak, 2 eyes and a bonnet. The cape had yet to be completed. It was a beautiful shade of pink and she idly thought about knitting a jumper when this was all behind her. Finally, the feet were attached to the body and the other odd shapes were stitched in their appointed spots. It was finished! She proudly stood it on the table and immediately it fell forward on its beak, pushing it sideways with the larger eye staring upwards. There were chuckles all around. Oh no, it refuses to stand up. What's to be done?
" Weights ", her husband said later. Old curtain weights were duly stitched somewhere we won't mention, on went the fringed cape, hey presto, all was well.
It was the day of the sale and heaps of beautifully knitted items were displayed on a table. Choc's Jemima Puddleduck was proudly standing up right in front. Although the beak was off kilter and it had a lop sided grin, it wasn't bad.
Then, in walked a lady she hadn't seen before and took the most perfectly executed
Jemima Puddleduck from her bag, and stood it next to Chocs. How could she?
The crowds of shoppers entered as soon as the doors opened. A little red headed girl with braces on her teeth cried "Mummy, Mummy " I want that one, and took hold of Choc's Jemima around the neck. "Look" she cried " its not beautiful like all the others, its just like me ".
