>You might like to see that though I have not read much lately, I have not just been twiddling my thumbs. Here is a progress report on my jigsaw and a translation of an Arnold-and-Mildred story from November.
”Oh, poor you! Not again!” Phyllis ´s low-cut neckline hovers dangerously close to Mildred´s nose while she flings several lumps of sugar into her teacup. She makes good use of this opportunity to take a closer look at the swollen eye.
“Now you really must do something about it! You´ll have to leave him. Women´s refuge!” Martha´s knitting needles clink indignantly in close competition with her busy tongue.
“But he was so sorry this time. He promised …” chirps Mildred. She all but loses the thread of the complicated pattern she has devised. Another nice and warm winter sweater for Arnold.
“He promised … well, they always do, don´t they, Mildred? But when have you heard about a man who kept his promise?” Phyllis is the hostess of their club today and expertly she regains their full attention.
Mildred sips at the sickly-sweet tea. How kind they all are. And when she remembers how close she was to giving up the knitting club a few months ago. Phyllis had had a divorce with such a to-do, and Pauline´s lover had invited her to Malaga for an illicit weekend. Martha got her breast cancer, and Alison suspected that her husband pranced around in her clothes when she was away from home.
And in the meantime Mildred had just knitted her intricate sweaters while she tried to insert a few words about Arnold´s mushroom excursions.
But then she had tripped over a basket of mushrooms in the kitchen and broken her arm. The words had just rolled off her tongue when she told the others that Arnold had hit her. Now she was looking forward to the knitting club every Thursday again.