Threads

I'm not referring to 'threads' as clothes. Maybe that slang is passe, and 'duds' is what's current now? Not sure. The thing is, I've never really been into slang, even though it interests and often amuses me. During the ancient days when I was working in the library of the French Institute in London, my colleagues used to tell me with some relish that my predecessor 'parlait argot'. Not me. Although I do enjoy buying a French magazine from time to time simply to feel a little more 'au courant'.

And so, to threads, the kind that's a thin-spun string used for stitching clothes. I have two of them at present, dangling down from my skirts. The trouble is, I always notice them at an inconvenient moment when I don't have a pair of scissors handy. Used to be you could break the cotton easily with a twist of your fingers. No more, alas. Cotton thread has largely been replaced by polyester. Maybe what I have to do is, as soon as I've published this post, go straight away and cut off those two annoying dangles.

One of the small superstitions my mother used to hold was that it brought good luck if you plucked a thread off someone else's clothing. The trick was, you had to keep quiet and not say anything to explain. I've done this once or twice and received some rather startled looks!

I'll be on your screen again on Sunday, but meanwhile have to take care of business.

Ciau for now.