Saturday, 25 November 2006

successful lace and a day of remembering

Finally, the scarf is working. Well, the first one. And at the rate it's going, I just might make it through three before Christmas, but I'm not making any promises.

It's a leaf pattern passed on to me by Nora from Black Dog Knits (sadly, blogger is making it impossible for me to post links right now so you can find her at It's a leaf pattern and it's a 16 row repeat which I'm finding astoundingly easy. True, the Branching Out pattern wasn't actually that hard now that I look back at Thursday night's frustratingly slow learning process, but I had to put it aside out of sheer annoyance. I'll go back to it. Maybe for the second scarf.

In the end, I went with Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino in white. It's gorgeous. Loving it flowing through my fingers and it's a good choice for hot weather. It doesn't make me sweat at all.

So, here is the first few repeats of this lovely, lovely pattern.

Can't wait to see how it looks when blocked. I must be obsessed. It's Saturday and I was up before 6am working on it while watching The Thunderbirds! I have a lot on today and I knew if I didn't get an hour or so in this morning, I'd probably not get to it at all.

But there's still time for blogging, of course, and especially today I wanted to make time for it because today is a sad day.

For some of you, it's the day after Thanksgiving. You're probably all stuffed and sleepy and hopefully getting some good down time to knit.

Today, it's a year since my brother in law, that is, my youngest sister's partner, took his life. While we were at a thanksgiving dinner last year (courtesy of our former neighbour who was American), John was spiralling downwards and just hours away from dying.

He was 32 years old and troubled in more ways that we can ever know. I guess that goes without saying. People don't take their own lives if they're not troubled deeply.

It's been a long year since he died. For some of my family, it was our first experience of the death of a loved one. And we've learned now that it changes you forever.

I loved him. We cooked together (he was a chef) and we watched him make my sister truly happy for two years. He was a dickhead, and I mean that with the deepest affection. A total clown most of the time, with a great big heart and a booming, deep voice that made me smile.

We'll never know all the reasons that made him do what he did. But he did it and he's gone and I'll always remember him, just like I'll always regret I never got to try his famous tiramisu.

Hey John, wherever you are, I'm thinking of you today and I miss you. Love Bells.

And on that note, I think I'll get back to tidying my house before my 2 year old nephew arrives to mess it all up again!