Summer Colour

So when the mercury is rising rapidly outside, what does a blogger in search of a topic for today's post do?

She goes outside wearing new socks and sits in the sun to take photos. 



Insane!

But really, the garden is is so brown, so scorched by the blazing January sun, that I thought the colour of these socks might alleviate that, if only for a few moments.



I've been working on these for months. Since about November I think. They were socks that were picked up from time to time for commuting, for social occasions where knitting was required, for the late night brainless occupation of my hands. And I love them.

The yarn is Regia 4ply and the colourway is one of the series designed for Regia by that colour mad man, Kaffe Fasset. I was so thrilled with it and what I loved best was not just the appealing blend of reds, but the shocks of peacock blue that jumped out at me as the fabric grew.

And that's all there is to say really. I never really grow tired of plain socks and get anxious if I don't have a pair on the needles at all times to keep me going when something simple is needed.

To that end, I've got another pair going. I call them 'Go Everywhere Socks' because that's exactly what they'll do, both on the needles and off. Same pattern as above, the Yarn Harlot's Basic Sock Recipe from Knitting Rules, on 2.75mm needles.



And finally, just because I am still absolutely enthralled by it, here's another shot of the Myrtle Leaf shawl. Eight repeats in and it's all going well.



Progress will slow when I return to work on Monday but at least I've made some good headway. I managed 1-2 repeats a day and a little sad that will stop now.

Bells

Time Travel

As a child I longed to be able to travel through time. I'm not a sci-fi geek, just a lover of what as children we probably all called 'the olden days.'

I know there'd be no running hot water, no central heating and none of a whole bunch of other conveniences, but I can't escape the fantasy, even as an adult, that it would be so much fun to break through time and find out what it was like to be, say, a woman in Victorian England.

I have a shelf full of young adult and children's fiction about girls and boys who got to find a way into the past and even a few adult books on the same subject (hello, Diana Gabaldon!) which are nice little worlds I retreat into sometimes when I want to indulge the fantasy.

At other times, I'm just happy to read literature from the periods I love best, or lose myself in those gorgeous, wonderful literary adaptations (or costume drama as it's so often called now) that seem to take up a lot of space in my DVD collection. 

And what's even better is finding something to knit that is in some way contemporary. Lately, I've been reading Elizabeth Gaskell's Cranford, which is full of treats for the knitter. Discussions of the procurement of shetland wool, the wonders of lace and the frequent mention of 'worsted work', which I initially thought was perhaps knitting in heavier weighted wool but is in fact a kind of needlework. 

To that end, I've spent the last day and a half sheltering from the heat by a fan, with cold drinks and my Myrtle Leaf shawl while watching a borrowed copy of the recent adaptation of Cranford. It's the story of a fictional small village in the north of England in the mid-19th century. It's a fabulous cast, bursting with names such as Dame Judi Dench, Dame Eileen Atkins and a whole host of faces you'll recognise if you've watched anything by the BBC in the last two decades. 

I'm disappointed to say the writers didn't include all the knitting in the adaptation, although there is a scene or two which focuses on a piece of lace which is reputed to be so fine because it was made by nuns (who have plenty of time to concentrate, given they don't speak much). I'm also disappointed to see very few knitted shawls. 

As an aside, I'm also listening to Thomas Hardy's Tess of the D'Urbevilles at the moment and it seems every other page contains someone throwing a knitted shawl over their shoulders. I sure hope the new adaptation is chock full of country women wearing knitted shawls when I finally get to see it.

Nevertheless, I have wrapped myself happily in this sumptuous depiction of Victorian rural life and worked on my shawl which is just about the most joyful lace experience I've had to date. I love it. Love it, love it, love it. But it's only good for day work. Can't manage the black lace in the evenings very well, so I'm making the most of it this week while I'm not at work.

Isn't she lovely, my Myrtle? I've had to tink back a few times but on the whole, I'm in a groove now and simply can't imagine anything I'd rather be knitting. Obsessed? Just a little. Happy? Oh yes! I'm not sure it gets better than this.



I took a break from the DVDs only for a moment to write this. Next, I'm heading into another Mrs Gaskell novel - Wives and Daughters. I've done my chores for the day. I'm free now to do as I like.

Cranford airs on ABC 1 soon, if you're local and that way inclined. I'll be watching it again.

Bells

You Made Me Forget Myself

The perfect salve for the heartbreak suffered at the funeral of a friend is a weekend spent with friends who are very much alive, and lively. That is exactly what we did.

(Sean gave a deeply moving eulogy for which I am extremely proud of him. Mick would have been amazed.)



The weekend was planned quite some time ago for whoever was able to be there and really, that it took place the day after the funeral was perfect timing. A few friends gathered (with partners and children) at the spacious and welcoming home in northern Sydney of Kylie and her partner (and dogs). The plan was for a small, relaxed weekend wherein we would knit, eat, talk and swim. We did all that. 

The boys were around sometimes, gone at others, entertaining children or manning the BBQ so that we had some quality down time. 

RoseRed made a pavlova. It was spectacular. Her husby made an amazing paella on Sunday night and we drank sangria. 



We had BBQ breakfasts courtesy mostly of Sean and Mr RoseRed. We drank champagne and talked for hours.

We swam in the pool for the better part of Saturday when it was 42 degrees (or 107 F) and were vastly entertained by the children.

Speaking of entertaining, young Princess Grace didn't want to be left out of the knitting fun.



She was rather taken with a ball of Bendigo cotton which I gave to her to replace the Zephyr silk of mine she'd spotted (the girl has taste inherited from her mother, obviously).

On the subject of my ebony zephyr, Kylie and I started our Myrtle Leaf Shawls from Victorian Lace Today. That was fun. Mine is a bit bigger than this now after a few hours in the car today.



We were both a little nail-bitingly nervous about starting this shawl. We've been discussing it for ages, have had our black laceweight yarn ready and have speculated about the right cast on, the length of time it will take and well, you get the idea. We started. We went well. Kylie started over but that's a story she can tell.

I'm desperately happy with mine and during the week off work which I'm about to begin (today was Australia Day so no work anyway) I plan to knit A LOT of this shawl. I imagine I'll become consumed. If you don't hear from me again this week (fat chance!) you'll know where I am.

So thanks to our friends for a wonderful weekend. I'm not sure it could have been improved upon. We got enough heat for swimming, enough of a cool change for knitting, the best possible company and all the good things in life at our disposal.

Perfect. Thanks Kylie (and Trent) for your hospitality and to all the other gathered there with us. It was, as RoseRed would say, tops. 

Bells

Swatching the Moment

Thank you so very much for the care and concern and kindness in light of the loss our dear friend, Mick. Sean doesn't often hang out here checking the comments, but I know he did today. Very kind. Thank you. Now we just have to make it to Friday afternoon when we will really say goodbye - and Sean will give a eulogy. A big day for him.

***
Today there was post on Gidgetknits about knitting through the inauguration ceremony for President Obama (oh how magical that sounds!). Both RoseRed and I were suitably inspired and agreed to do the same tonight, watching the ceremony. I didn't end up rewatching it. I actually got up at 3:30am to watch it live - I wasn't sleeping well last night anyway and loved every moment.

But tonight as my 'tribute' if you like, I cast on a swatch for something new and watched the news and thought about the great and important change that's taken place. I truly think it began in some way with our own nation getting ride of John  Howard in 2007. It was a sign of things getting better.

So instead of Knitting the Moment, as Gidget and RoseRed did, I swatched the moment. 

Here is my 'mini' Myrtle leaf shawl from Victorian Lace Today. I think I'm in love. She's a little wonky, but that's what swatching is for, to figure out the wonk.



This weekend, I'm starting this shawl with Kylie when I and a few other knitterly people hang out at her house for the long weekend. We chose the black yarn last year and promised we'd knit it together, starting on the Australia Day long weekend. Now that I've swatched, I just can't wait.

Bells

Sunset

When I took this photo at sunset a week or two ago, I knew I'd want to write about it at some point, because I thought it was vivid and worth showing.

There was no way of knowing then that the first time I'd think to post it would be the day we lost a friend. I can't say how but it seems fitting. Putting into words why just seems unnecessary.



Today a little after 2pm, Sean received a phone call from the sister of his friend of many years to say that Mick had died. Two weeks ago, we visited him and I gave him some socks. Probably he never wore them but that was never the point.

After four years of illness, with medical trials, suffering and uncertainty, it all came to an end. We've watched him fight. We've seen him want to give up. Four years is a long time to fight.

On Sunday, we drove to Sydney for the day at the urging of his sister who said he had gone into palliative care and was rapidly losing the battle. An afternoon in his room, with his family at his side, watching him suffer and wishing for it to end was an afternoon we'll always remember.

He and Sean watched the cricket - with Sean telling him what was going on when Mick was too weak to watch. I talked with his mother and sister - both knitters - as i worked on a cotton handtowel to keep my hands busy.

I know you all don't know Mick but that's ok. I want to write because we are sitting around not sure what to do and feeling things we can't really say. I am cooking for us because it seems right. When Mick was our neighbour for five or so years, I cooked for him a lot. He brought beer and I served up plate after plate of food.

He never said much. Mick was a man of few words, except for when he spoke at length, both affectionately and hilariously at our wedding and declared in front of all our friends and family that he loved Sean and was happy for him. We listened to this man, who never said a lot, say more in that speech than anyone knew was possible. Moments like that are worth everything.

Mick was a fan of my knitting. He wore one of my earliest beanies, made before I even knew how to knit in the round. He admired my crocheted hats, the ones I used to make before i was a knitter and a few times put in requests for hats for family members. That's why I had to make his socks. I couldn't let him go without something for his feet.

Wherever he is now, I hope he is ok. No more pain for him, but he's leaving behind a man who has been his friend for many years and who is going to be lost without him.

Bells

I made yarn

I really would not have believed it possible, but it happened.

This morning after a marathon two hour duel with the spinning wheel, I showed up at the final installment of the spinning workshop in the afternoon feeling like maybe I was getting somewhere. 

I'd made something that looked nice, even if it did take me an hour to slip back into the rhythm of it. 

Once in class, our teacher began explaining the notion of plying yarn and I froze. I'd just come to terms, mostly, with spinning the stuff. I had to learn something new now?

For those not in the know (and I was one of those before today) plying is pretty much what it sounds like. You take two (or more) strands of spun yarn and twist them together to make yarn.

In short, I figured it out. Leigh is a very good teacher and I got it. Look. This is a finished skein of yarn. I can scarcely believe it.



We took it off the bobbin, wound it up on a niddy noddy (love the spinning terminology!), washed it and voila! So. Very. Cool.

Whether this mystifying, wonderful process continues much beyond the workshop remains to be seen. All the people in the comments talking about how great it is to knit with your own stuff did rather thrill me. 

The fact is that I've been out of sorts this week and being challenged to try something new and not easy has been more than a little disconcerting. I cursed the whole notion more than once (and this is in no way a reflection on the workshop or our teacher). I could have bailed at any time but I paid good money for it and I knew I'd be letting myself down if I didn't go. I suppose the lesson here is that sometimes, a bit of a struggle is good for the soul, even if you are out of sorts and generally snarky. 

In the meantime, there's some lace that's feeling a bit neglected. We need to spend some quality time together.

Bells

The Canberra Jane Austen Festival

I'll break with usual subjects here for a moment and put a call out for anyone (local, or even a bit further afield if you're interseted) in attending

The Canberra Jane Austen Festival 16-18 April 2009

Sean spotted an ad for this event this morning and called me at once. Somehow I'd managed to never hear of it.

A quick glance at the program reveals a host of seminars on subjects ranging from clothing to food to Regency Bonnet making!

If this sounds delightful to you and you think you might be intersted in attending (with me! Because I'd love the company!) let me know. Early bird tickets are available until 25 January at just $95. Considerably more expensive after that.

This is a weekend just made for people like me, I think, even though I confess I've never longed to make a Regency Bonnet. I just might discover such a longing, I think.

If no one's keen, that's ok. I will still go but it'd be lovely to have some company.

Bells

Something like progress

Last night, which was a very hot night (still 21C or 69F at 8pm) I went along to the second installment of the intensive spinning class, not holding out much hope for myself. I had a headache, was overtired and not feeling inspired.

Witness the first bobbin of the evening.



It was ok. I saw that I had spun the fibre into something and managed to get it on the bobbin but it was fluffy.

As Leigh, our lovely instructor said, 'It's novelty yarn!'

I replied, 'Yeah but I wouldn't buy novelty yarn, much less want to make my own!'

We tried a different wheel for me, a traveller, which is an upright model, and lo and behold, magic occured.



I made that. I really did. It came through MY fingers. After watching my other classmates Carrie and Nettie do that kind of magic with a degree more ease than I could manage, I felt like watching them enviously had finally paid off. I learned something.

I'm still not sure I'm going to be a spinner though. That said, Leigh had some examples there of her own spun yarn turned into real knitted items and they were far from the lumpy, uneven products I imagined (not to suggest that our teacher would only make lumpy yarn - I just didn't know it could be quite so beautiful) - I should have taken photos - there was one particularly fine lace shawl made from the delicate yarn you'd expect to use for something like that.

But really, when it comes down to it, it's a bit like dyeing for me. I'm interested enough to find out how it works but in reality, I don't feel 'called' to contribute to this end of the fibre spectrum. Why, when there are people out there who love it and who have the skill, talent and drive to provide beautiful work for the rest of us to use in our knitting or crocheting? Someone has to be on the user end of the process and I'm pretty sure, at this point in my life, that's where I fit in the scheme of things. User. Not provider.

But there's still another lesson to go and between now and then, I have to spin a lot more yarn for homework.

Bells

Sock Club 2009

If you read RoseRed, you'll probably have seen that she has set up a nice little arrangement for herself, inspired by others on Ravelry, whereby she conducts her very own Sock Club. She first floated this idea with me when I visited her last week and I thought it was bloody marvellous.

The idea is that you set aside skeins of sock yarn from your stash and earmark them for selection during the year. Like RoseRed, I've selected 12 but I'm not pressuring myself to get one pair done a month. There are always other commitments that come up, like gift knitting etc.

Never one to let a good bandwagon go whooshing by, I figured I would join in the fun. As RoseRed says, it's a good way to make your sock yarn stash exciting again. All I need now are the brown paper bags which are part of the fun - bag it up, choose at random throughout the year.

So, here's my selection, it's all special stuff. Items that were either gifted or which have been 'saved' for some time for a special occassion. But, like the good crockery, sometimes you have to just get on with using the stuff otherwise those special occassions never arise!



1. red koigu, 2. Light Blue Koigu, 3. wollmeise, 4. Knittery Autumn, 5. Socks that Rock Sapphire, 6. Schaefer Anne, 7. Socks that Rock Ravenscroft, 8. KnitPicks Gloss, 9. Socks that Rock Tanzanite, 10. Socks that Rock Mustang Sally, 11. Donyale's Burnt Butter, 12. Donyale's Bruised Bloodwood

Not all of it might be made into socks, either. I know for certain that two skeins of purple Socks that Rock are probably going to be a shawl, but that's ok, that's the beauty of a personal sock club - you can do what you like!

Now I just have to put them all together, in bags, so they're ready to be selected. Gathering the photos from Flickr doesn't quite count as getting fully prepared, does it?

****
Spinning Update Last night, I worked on my spinning for around 90 minutes. I got something that looks a bit like yarn. I accept it's not perfect. I'm cool with that now. And I even got some consistency in terms of having long bouts of spinning between accidental breakages.

Just not so sure I enjoyed it. I felt like I was neglecting my knitting. And I felt sick at the end, like I'd watched the wheel too much. There was some serious wooze happening in my head. Note to self: take breaks.

Bells

The Idea of Perfection

I like to do things well. I like to do things well easily. If it takes a lot of effort for me to do it well, I tend to give it up. 

The other thing is, for a lot of us, knitting was learned in childhood. Lots of things were hard in childhood and we just accepted they were hard because we were children and we persevered. At least that's how I think it went. I know I learned to knit. I don't really remember how. I recall a really lumpy, uneven scarf for my dad but I don't remember making it. The struggle of learning to make those stitches is a memory lost in the mists of time. 

Today I went to an all day intensive workshop (the first of three sessions) to learn to spin. Quite a few months ago now, Jen loaned me a spinning wheel. Around that time, Julie gave me a book on learning to spin. A few times, I sat down with the book and the wheel and tried to figure it out but some things are better learned with someone showing you how.



It was a small class. Just me and a couple of friends - Nettie and Carrie.

Being so small, it was less a class and more an all day conversation with a lot of treadling and some wool-play thrown in. Nice, huh?

For the most part, yes. It was lovely to hang out with other wannabe-spinners, the teachers, Leigh and Susan and a really nice doggie



Seriously though, today really challenged me. Really, really challenged me. Spinning did not come easily. While beside me Carrie and Nettie, who are both slightly more experienced than me, began well, I kept cursing under my breath and needing to stand up and take a break.

It was that hard.

That said, there were some great lessons to be learned.

Turning this raw fleece



into something workable



was eye opening and a sign of the kinds of transformation ahead of us.

By the end of the day I'd done what Leigh said we needed to do, which was take raw fleece and get it, in some rough form, onto a bobbin.



I did it and there's some achievement in that, even if it's lumpy and nowhere near the idea of perfection I, quite foolishly, seemed to expect of myself.

Getting home, I was so tired but I managed to see some merit in what I'd done and to tell myself that one day does not make a spinner. One week's worth of lessons won't make a spinner either. Time, effort and patience will make a spinner, in the same way that it made a knitter of me.

To be honest, I may never be a spinner. I love knitting and I find plenty of challenge in it. But I'm going to give learning to spin a go and see what I can make of it. I'm just interested enough in the magic that happens in getting the fleece from the sheep to the finished product. Just.

Bells

Everything must end

Today was our last day of leave. Come Monday, we are back in the real world (although I do have another week off coming up) so and today, I did what any good procrastinator does, and did some of the jobs I'd left til the last minute, like cleaning the hideous dark hole that is the cupboard under the kitchen sink and digging into the abyss that is my fridge. 

These jobs had to be done, and now they are. I can now get on with the last weekend before returning to work no longer berating myself for being a Slacker Supreme. 

This morning, before starting the big day of jobs, I spent a few moments in the garden taking photos before I set out to plant my autumn crops. Donna Lee had mentioned in the comments that she was looking forward to seeing some summer greenery. I thought of you as I took these photos Donna Lee. 

Here are the multi-headed sunflowers which grew next to the ash trees without much in the way of help from us. The single headed ones have been eaten by cockatoos.



Later in the morning, I found a rosella having a nibble. I got as close as I could before the pretty thing flew away.



Potatoes are a fairly ordinary, utilitarian plants, except for when they get lovely little flowers. 



The plum tree is starting to get some colour on it. We can't wait for our next batch of plum jam or plum sauce!



Here are my everlasting daisies, which aren't looking so everlasting right now. I think that if they are left on the plant, they do what nature asks of them and give up their seeds. Their furriness is rather lovely, I think.

The roses my Father in Law gave us continue to grow and produce stunning red roses. Such little plants with so much to give!



In less successful corners of the garden, I figured out why zinnias should always be planted in full sun.



Kinda pathetic huh? It's tiny - nothing like the full, rounded head it's supposed to be. I spent weeks growing these from seed and then stupidly planted them in a shady bed. Duh.

Finally, my calla lillies. The colour is so vibrant. I never get over these. 



I love my garden. It's a work in progress and if you saw the big, open dead spaces in it, you'd see that. But over the break, in the mornings when I was outside digging and doing all those other gardeny jobs, I was reminded why it's so important to me. 

Apart from when I'm knitting, gardening is the only other place where my head goes quiet. When I'm out there, I'm not caught up in worries, concerns, things that make me angry or things that make me anxious. It's just me (and usually Sean) and the air and the dirt and the roots and the leaves and the flowers and the produce. Everything else just fades away and there are days when that's absolutely, utterly vital.

Bells

'Twas a lovely visit

Thanks for everyone's kind comments on the sad visit we made to our sick friend yesterday. I know Sean felt the kindness was in some way comforting. 

I did wonder beforehand if winter weight socks he may never wear was kind of insensitive as a gift, but I hadn't realised that extremities can really suffer when those with Cancer are so near the end. So thank you.

***

Earlier in the day, we visited RoseRed at her lovely new home. We found her in the pretty, leafy suburb where she now resides and settled in for a meltingly hot visit as Sydney had one of its hottest days in ages. Sean planted himself in front of the TV and RoseRed and I retired to the room, which I dubbed The Parlour, for knitting and chatting. 

Here's proof I was there. I call this photo Portrait of a shawl in the Parlour. 



Note RoseRed's perfectly suited and elegantly draped Lady Eleanor shawl in the background. 

At some point in the morning, we exchanged belated Christmas gifts. I can now reveal the gift I was SO excited about giving her. 

About six months ago, a friend of mine who is a print artist, took us to an exhibition of her work. The loveliest piece, in my opinion, was of a pair of red shoes. I fell in love with it and thought of RoseRed naturally enough. Polly said she would make a print of it for me and late last year, I got it and some time after, framed it. Here it is.



Isn't it lovely, and perfect for her? There's a tender, sad story behind the shoes. The piece is dedicated to the artist's friend who died around a year ago of cancer. The shoes were hers and somewhere, Polly hopes, her friend is still wearing them and dancing.

I also gave her Loani Prior's lovely book, Wild Tea Cosies. It's gorgeous. Check it out. I bought it from Wool Addiction in Bowral who sent it so beautifully gift wrapped that I had to leave it as it was for RoseRed, rather than doing my own notoriously dodgy wrapping. 

RoseRed's gifts to me were equally lovely and beautiful. 

Some red Alpaca Silk from Blue Sky Alpaca which is so very gorgeous.



I have some in ice blue which was a gift from Mad, Mad Rachel and it's quite possible the two will make something beautiful in some colourwork. We shall see.

As well as the yarn, RoseRed gave me a beautiful, delicate shawl pin. Here it is adorning my Adamas shawl.



Stunning huh? I feel so blessed to have someone with such exquisite taste as a friend of mine! 

Now, I shall go back to sitting around sweating. There's an image for you all! 

Bells

Socks for a friend

As mentioned yesterday, in Sydney today, we visited a very old friend of Sean's who is dying. They have known each other for nearly 20 years, thereabouts and he's just always been there. I met him the same day I met Sean, a decade ago this month. Soon, he won't be here any more. 

Today was strange. I kept feeling myself sink into 'remember when' moments and then stopped myself. It didn't seem right. I think we both just wanted to be there with him no matter the awkwardness, the sadness, the uncertainty.

Even though it's summer now and even though he may not ever wear them, I had to knit socks for him. I've been telling him i would for so long and I was continually put off by his size 13 feet. The state of things meant that last month, I decided at once I had to finally knit the socks, no matter the absurdity of heavy weight socks in an Australian summer.



In the absence of the words to say what we feel, sometimes we just have to do something. I couldn't let him go knowing I'd failed to knit these for him.

He was weak and quiet but he smiled and tried one of them on despite the fact that in Western Sydney today it was pushing 41 degrees (or 105 F). He smiled. I got the size right. They are huge. 

They are the Thuja pattern from Knitty, knit in 3 balls of Patons Jet, which is my new love. Lovely alpaca-wool blend and just great for so many things. I made these as inside socks for our friend, but I reckon the thickness of them could mean they are great winter weight boot socks. 

I sincerely hope he'll be around to wear them in winter when they are most needed.

Bells

Summer thoughts

I haven't done a dot point post for a while and in the absence of any knitting I can post, this seems fitting for a Monday night.

• Summer appears to have arrived. Finally. A few days ago, the veggie garden was still looking decidedly unsure if it wanted to grow or not. Suddenly, things are springing into life. To that end, I've been out early in the mornings the last couple of days working on it and it looks all the better for it.

• Isn't it funny how how when you actually get down and do things, like gardening in the morning, stuff happens and everything looks better for it?

• Tomorrow we are going to Sydney, just for the day. We're visiting RoseRed first to see her lovely new house and exchange belated Christmas gifts. I'm particularly excited about what I'm giving to her - and really, isn't that the point? 

• After we see RoseRed, we are going to visit one of Sean's oldest friends. He is dying. I don't even know what to write about that.

• We got a new BBQ this weekend. It's second hand, from friends of ours who recently upgraded. We got one that way because even buying a second hand one meant we got a better one than if we'd bought on on that budget new. It's got six burners and a wok burner and it's big. We ate chicken salad and drank wine in the back yard when it was almost dark. Fun. 

• We are still on leave. Lots of people went back to work this week, but not us. This is good. I don't think we really unwound in the first week. The second week, I'm planning to find a nice balance between the easy, floaty dream state of having few commitments and being super  productive. If that means working hard from dawn for a few hours, then knitting in the dark of a lounge room with closed curtains, then so be it!

• Adele returned from her holiday in the Snowy Mountains this weekend and declared the Hemlock Ring Blanket I made for them was put into immediate service. In January. Apparently it was cold enough at nights for it to be warm and comfy under a heavy woollen blanket. Who knew?

• Yesterday we saw The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Long movie but beautiful and breathtaking. I never used to like Brad Pitt but he's growing on me. I've thought about this movie a lot in the last 24 hours and that's a good thing in my book.

• The lace knitting, just so you know, has gone very well since the first few aborted attempts. I've settled in; we're getting on well and becoming very nicely acquainted. This is good. 

Bells

Retrospective

I wasn't going to. Then I saw others were doing it and I liked it. So I made my own little retrospective of the year that was 2008.

Just the knitting, mind. Nothing else. I have to draw the line somewhere. Once I get started, I could go down several paths of looking back and this one will do for now. It's the one I'm most proud of. What a year. Gifts, major personal achievements, countless stitches. 



1. Mick's Socks, 2. Adele, Will and the Hemlock, 3. Adamas Shawl, 4. Blue Handtowel, 5. Cream Handtowel, 6. Boy Fetchings (Dad), 7. Sean's Birthday Socks II, 8. Sean's Birthday Socks I, 9. White Fetchings, 10. Mauve Fetchings, 11. Embossed Leaves II, 12. Verdes Pi Shawl, 13. Alpacky Vest, 14. Hemlock Memory Blanket, 15. Purple Trainwreck Socks, 16. Shetland Shawl, 17. Adele's Cardigan, 18. Grace's Crochet Jacket, 19. Waving Lace Socks, 20. Clapotis, 21. Zara Cutaway Cardigan, 22. Willem's Mittens, 23. Keith's Birthday Vest, 24. Sean's Gentleman's Socks, 25. Pi Blanket, 26. Fetchings, 27. Donyale Socks, 28. The Steeked Jacket, 29. Dublin Bay Socks, 30. Willem's Socks, 31. Ribbed For Her Socks (Claire), 32. dishcloths, 33. ballband, 34. Gentleman's Fancy Socks, 35. Forrest Canopy Shawl, 36. swapsocks

Once I got the mammoth, 14 month project of the Steeked Jacket done and dusted in March it freed up so much time. I finished that project wondering what the year held for me in terms of knitting output, once the albatross was lifted from around my neck, and now I see it held many, many good things. 

It has to be said, though the jacket was a trial, it taught me so many things that really, made the rest of the year's output possible. 

And this year? I see more lace, more socks, and something big, warm and filled with cables in winter. Beyond that, who knows?

I can say one thing with certainty though. There's a stash that needs sorting and I'm itching to work from it this year. I'm not saying I won't buy new yarn, but in the short term at least, I'm working with the materials I've got. I'm keen to see what's there.

Let the year begin. I'm ready.

Bells