Now, please don't think I have finally lost the plot. The title of this post is perfectly sane. I am proud of my knees because they did not give way under me yesterday when I made them carry me 13.1 miles round the Bristol Half Marathon.
Some of you may remember that I did this run
last year, and at the time I wasn't sure if I'd ever run that far again. However, yesterday morning I found myself lining up with nearly 16,000 others on Anchor Road, contemplating the more-than-two-hours of plodding that lay ahead. And on the first warm and sunny day we've had in weeks, too; just when I'd got used to running in torrential rain!
But anyway, the long-story-short is that I finished, and that I am still on speaking terms with my knees, for which I am very thankful.
And for those of you who wish I would shut up about my knees and get back to knitting-based-pursuits, here is a picture NBM took of me in the runners' village, looking perplexed by the words spray-painted onto the ground:

(For those of you who can't read it, it says
"knitting needles")
(oh, and please don't laugh at my oh-so-fetching silver skirt space blanket)
Knitting needles, eh? Hmm.... But running with your knitting needles is very dangerous, surely?? How odd. And quite apart from that clear health-and-safety issue: where, in fact,
were these promised knitting needles? It was a mystery.
...... Or at least, it
would have been, had I not been standing in the very same spot one week before, watching this:

Some very,
very large knitting. Very large indeed.
Mystery solved :o)