A Day In My Life - Feb 09

It wasn't until I was emailing with RoseRed today that I remembered today is A Day In My Life day. 

Each month, RoseRed does this meme, which is about capturing the day, recording the great and small moments, and each month I forget. By the time I remember, I realise I've not taken photos and give up on the idea. 

This month I thought i'd give it a go, despite the almost lack of photos. Mainly it's because Sean is watching Mythbusters which doesn't interest me in the slightest and I want to do something else.

So, my day. 

We went to the markets nice and early, stocking up on veggies and meat. We bought a chocolate croissant from the delightful French-style patisserie, Knead, and brought it home to have with a pot of tea.

By 10:30am we were at the National Gallery of Australia waiting for our friends Polly, Steve and Julia so we could see the Degas exhibition before it finishes its run in Canberra. I know almost nothing about Degas, other than that he was an Impressionist. My knowledge of art history is sorely lacking and it's something I try and rectify by going to exhibitions when I can and watching Sunday afternoon art documentaries as much as possible. I seem to enjoy it so much that I think I really ought to make a study of it, even if it's just in these fairly simple ways.

Sometimes, I think these sorts of excursions are really defined by who you go with. The paintings are wonderful but there's something about the company and the mood of the day that contributes significantly to the moment. 

I've known Julia, Polly and Steve since university (approaching twenty years). We have dipped in and out of each other's lives over the years and now, in our late thirties and early forties, we seem to have all reconnected in a really meaningful way. Our lives are all at different points. We each have either grown up children, small children or no children but the differences don't seem to matter at all. There's a common understanding, a shared history that overrides all of that.

Being with them, and Sean, made the Degas exhibition the most enjoyable art gallery experience I've had in a long time. We've not done this sort of excursion before and together we seemed to just fit. Sometimes we sniggered at Degas (some of the paintings of horses really seemed strange as if he'd never really seen a horse before) and sometimes we were in awe. To stand in a dimly lit room with old friends, inhaling the colour and light of, for example, the ballerina paintings was special in ways I can't really explain.



Old friends are as valuable as these paintings.

We left the gallery to go our own ways and because of a wrong turn, Sean and I ended up near Kingston where one of the better yarn shops, Cassidy's, is to be found.

I must digress here for a moment. A few days ago, in a quite serious need of some retail therapy, I went to Cassidy's at lunch time to indulge in the Rowan sale. I admit to feeling a small twinge of guilt to be buying something like this when so many have suffered and lost so much in the bushfires but when another round of IVF fails, as I found out it had on Thursday, I allow myself to do whatever helps in the first 24-48 hours. I can hardly speak about this, but that's what the  yarn indulgence was for. It's pathetic really to think that a yarn sale can even come close to making up for the loss that yet another failed IVF represents, but like the wine I'm drinking right now, it doesn't fix anything. It's just something that soothes me in those first, horrible days.

I emerged on Thursday with more than a little Rowan Felted Tweed (some was for RoseRed!). Like I said, few photos of today, but I can post other photos. 

My new Rowan.

Ten balls of this.



Four balls of this.



Sigh.

When Sean saw this on Thursday, he immediately asked if the chocolate colour was for him. Ah, no. It's been earmarked already for a shawl. But today, as we were out that way, I deviously suggested we call in and choose some yarn for him which I don't have a photo of right now, but he chose a colour called Dragon. For a fantasy/sci-fi boy as he is, that seems somehow fitting. It'll be a scarf for him by the time winter arrives.

Sean and I spent the better part of the afternoon preparing food. We bought a BBQ recently and last week Sean bought a BBQ cook book. He's all enthused and we've dined well since the book arrived. Veal steaks, pepper steak, lamb burgers. Fabulous stuff. So now we have various kinds of meat marinating, just waiting to be cooked in next to no time after work this week. 

Tonight we dined on an Indian feast that was also partially prepared this afternoon. Madras Chicken with dhal, raita and basmati rice. We work well in the kitchen together when we get motivated and work in tandem. We drank champagne while we prepared it; red wine while we ate it and felt immensely satisfied afterwards. I even remembered to get a photo.



And that's really it. The rest of today will be spent knitting, watching TV and polishing off the rather delicious Shiraz we're drinking. We don't really bother about Valentines Day, but cooking something tasty together and doing the things we love, well that feels like a celebration of love to me.

Bells

All About Grace

I don't often undertake Baby Knits.

Many more babies are born around me than I ever knit for because sometimes it seems like a cruel form of torture to knit cute little baby things when it often seems that I might never have the chance to knit for a baby of my own. Yes, we still hope but while we are hoping and struggling, knitting baby stuff is not something I choose to spend my time doing. 

I do make exceptions for the special ones. I hasten to add that all babies are obviously special, but the babies of a) very dear friends and b) very dear friends who are knitters are the ones I'll most often put aside the Bad Feelings and knit for. 

Exhibit Grace. Lovely daughter of Amy from Rhode Island. That link takes you to the post where Grace models what I made for her. You have to see it. Even my sister pointed out today that Grace looks especially delighted with her outfit. 

And that outfit would be Anouk, a lovely Kate Gilbert piece from Knitty. 

I'd admired it from the first time I saw another Grace wearing Anouk - George made one and dressed her Grace in it late last year. One lunch time I swooned over George's Grace and knew at once I'd make it for Amy's Grace. (Is the title of this post making sense now?)



I took my time. Both RoseRed and I decided we'd send our baby gifts early in the new year to avoid the rush of things Amy would receive after Grace was born. 

I have to say, Anouk, while delightful, is not the most pleasant pattern to work from. I messed up several times which is frustrating given it's really just two pieces with a bit of shaping and some additional bits. It's not written all that clearly and even though I know I can be a bit scatty on getting details right sometimes, I didn't think it was the kind of pattern that would lead to that much stuffing up. But it did. I fudged the neck and shoulders. 

It's actually meant to be joined on one shoulder, buttoned on the other but I ended up messing that bit up and so it's not joined at all. Just the straps on the side and the buttons at the shoulders.  I think it works.

The original calls for pockets with intarsia flowers on them - George did them and they are fabulous. Me, I chickened out on two fronts. I didn't feel like learning intarsia at the time and I had a feeling Amy would like it to be simpler. I was right.

To go with it, I made a Berry Baby Hat. Amy had mentioned one day that Grace was a bit short on hats (and you call yourself a knitter, Amy! ;-) so I made one. Cute huh?



And all together? 



It all adds up to sweet baby loveliness, don't you think? Do check out the modelled photo on Amy's blog. There's nothing like seeing how it actually looks on the intended recipient.

I made Anouk from Patons Superwash, 2 balls of red, one of green. This is nice yarn. I'd not used it before. I think it washes up beautifully. I'll no doubt make this again, now that I've sorted out the troublesome pattern. It's too cute not to. One day.

Bells

Day 15 - Not many words

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Day. I lit two candles and kept them burning while I cooked dinner. 

We opened a bottle of wine and remembered. It's so important to remember. I took a little journey, a pilgrimage if you like, into the sad place and thought of how there are two little lives not here when they should be. They never will be here. But that doesn't mean we don't remember. 

If you have lost a pregnancy or an infant, or more, light a candle, or do whatever feels right for you and remember their small, too short lives. 

Bells

ps Thanks to Jejune for these candles, one of which was a gift after the first loss.

FO: Hemlock Ring Memory Blanket

I know I posted photos of the Hemlock Ring Blanket blocking a few days ago, and lots of people said lots of lovely things, but there were questions about how what the specifics were with regard to modifications. 

Now that it's off the floor and ready for use, I thought it was only right to do a proper write up.

It all came together so well. I had never thought really of doing this pattern - not sure why. I think I thought it was too hard to bother with, though I admired it. Where I got that notion from, I don't know, since I've done harder stuff and I'm not afraid of blanket weight lace. 

A few weeks ago, at lunch one day with Quilting Mick and Bec, all that changed. Bec said she was working on a version of her own and it was so fast and so easy. A lightbulb flicked on for me, and I knew it was the blanket I had to make.

As I've said previously, during my brief pregnancy, I was planning blankets but hadn't yet cast on. I wanted to wait until we were more certain things were safe. Sadly, we weren't safe at all and in the blink of an eye, all my baby knitting plans came to an abrupt halt. The blanket was a big plan and to have that taken away was devastating, in amongst everything else.

And so on the recommendation of someone who had been through this same painful situation, I started a memory blanket, something tangible to remember our lost little one by.

Pattern: It's BrooklynTweed's pattern, but thanks to Jejune, I used instead the corrected pattern by The Rainey Sisters.

Yarn: Bendigo Woollen Mills Rustic in 12ply. Colour: Sandstone. 600g (3 balls). Just. I very nearly ran out.

Needles: Knitpicks Options 7mm (10 3/4). This is a big deal for me. I'm a fine gauge girl at heart. Chunky needles and chunky yarn is outside my comfort zone, but I settled in very happily.

Time: Started Wednesday 24 September. Finished Wednesday 1 October. Pretty much everyone gets through this quickly. I attribute my speed to being on holidays, away from home, and needing in my sadness something all consuming to focus on.

Modifications: None, strictly speaking. But I did do a magic loop cast on instead of Emily Ocker's cast on as recommended. I also knit one repeat beyond the 63rd row (as indicated on the chart by a gold line), taking it finally to 536 stitches. It's made it a really nice size. Not too large, not too small.  

I also chose to do the crochet cast off, instead of the knitted cast off which many seemed to suggest on Ravelry was a time and yarn suck of extreme proportions. I cast off, did one round of Single Crochet and then one round of the loops, each of which is 7 chains, with 3 single crochet between. That's a double crochet, if you're American. Single for everyone else.

The middle is my favourite part. It wasn't hard and it wasn't until I'd finished that bit that I realised what I'd been doing. I'd worried the flower was difficult but I stopped, looked and realised I'd done it. Easy peasy.

Also, the feather and fan part is good TV knitting. I'm not usually keen on feather and fan but this sucked me in. 

One evening while on holiday, Sean did about half a row of this blanket. It seemed like a nice way to include him in the significance of it. I gave it to him on one of the plain rounds and away he went. He was worried you'd be able to see which bit was his, but you can't. I was so proud! 

Come next winter, this will be so lovely and warm. In the meantime, I like it decorating the back of a chair, where I can see it, and remember.

Bells

Time away

I am very happy to report that as far as retreats from the world go, Berry is among the best.

We just spent four days hiding out at Coolaroo Lodge, a spacious, peaceful B&B which just so happens to be run by the in-laws of a friend of mine. The garden, which we spent much time admiring, is beautiful.

Our hosts, Robyn and Peter, were friendly, welcoming and also nearly invisible. We really felt like we were quite alone for much of the time, which in our experience of B&Bs can be a hard balance to strike. 

We really couldn't ask for anything more, except perhaps for more time. You know how you just start to unwind on a holiday? And it's time to come  home again? That's how we felt, a bit.

Berry is the perfect town for us. It's nestled comfortably in dairy country, with mountains surrounding it, beautiful bushland nearby and just a short walk down the road you hit Seven Mile Beach.



 
1. Tinselworm Kite2, 2. The waves of Seven Mile Beach, 3. crab, 4. scrub, 5. flowers, 6. daisy, 7. lantana,

We ate, drank, walked, slept, knitted and watched DVDs and most days that started early because we both woke around 6am, loving the knowledge that the days stretched out before us.

Do we feel better? Sort of. 

I can really only speak for myself and I have to say that going away did not make me happy. It gave me the space to be sad without the pressure of work or things that needed to be done at home. I think we both needed that. No doctors appointments, no injections, no grim reminders. 

For the most part, I lost myself entirely in knitting my Hemlock Ring Blanket which, in a day or so I'll be able to post as a completed project. I honestly think that without the focus of an engrossing project, I would not have been able to switch off as much as I did. I find it hard to get out of my head sometimes and I think I did manage it sometimes in Berry. 

One of my favourite moments was the morning we spent on the beach flying a kite. I think we both found a new way to unwind. 

And for the observant among you, yes, the face you see there on the kite is that of British comedian, Bill Bailey. The kite was for sale recently at his show and Sean thought it was too novel to pass up. It was tremendous fun watching Bill Bailey sail above the waves.

I've not yet touched on the fact that RoseRed came to visit and that we got to hang out in a fabulous wool shop. I'll save that for the next post.

Bells

What I plan to knit on my holiday

Yesterday, in a case of absolutely perfect timing, my order came from Bendigo Woollen Mills. Late last week, I chose some of their Rustic yarn in 12ply so I could make a Hemlock Ring blanket. I was inspired by a couple of friends and knew the time had come to make my own. It'll be my second BrooklynTweed designed blanket. Love that guy's work.

The timing  of its arrival was so perfect that I had just sat down after a morning of baking and tidying up when the nice delivery man pulled up in my driveway with the lovely big bag of wool.

About an hour and a half later, this is what i had done.



It's good fun. It grows fast and so far isn't too hard to keep track of.

It's a special blanket. During my brief pregnancy, I was planning all sorts of baby knitting, but most especially a blanket. Not this one, per se, but some others. This blanket is my way of not letting myself feel robbed of that experience. It will be a way to remember and I'm thankful to the new friend I've made who, in an email about her experience, told me she had made a blanket in memory of her loss, too.

It'll be the perfect project to work on during our time away. Just a few days. We'll be back next week.

Bells

A Case Full of Chocolate

Last week, I received something at work by special delivery. I knew it was coming because my sister, Adele was starting to panic by the end of the day that I'd not called to say I'd received something from her.

It eventually came the next day and everyone in my team gathered around my desk to see what marvel was inside the huge box I'd collected from the mail room.

There was this case.


We held our collective breath, waiting to see what wonders lay inside.



It was chocolate. One massive block weighing in at 500g or just over 1lb and a series of smaller blocks. That's one enormous block of chocolate and if you haven't noticed what's with it, look closely.

There's a hammer. A fairly weighty hammer, actually. It's to break the chocolate. Adele tells me that it was the hammer that sold her on the concept of buying this for Sean and I. And who would disagree?

The smaller blocks are all gourmet flavours like White Pepper and Cardamom, or Lavendar, or Masala. There's an intriguing one with pink peppercorns in it.

Isn't it amazing? One big case full of love and kindness and indulgence. You can't beat it. 

Adele wrote the next day asking how much of the chocolate was left and was, I think, quite amazed to find we hadn't touched it. We couldn't. For at least 24 hours we wanted it left whole, pristine. Even now, we've only had one small block - the white pepper and cardamom one which was just divine.

We'll be taking it away with us tomorrow, on our little holiday, along with some bottles of wine, books to read and knitting to be worked on. 

We're going to Berry, a small town about 2.5 hours from here. We've got self-catered accommodation with plans for walking, sleeping, eating and sharing a few bottles of wine. I don't think I have to explain that this will be a very good time and will help us to heal a little. 

I'm so looking forward to taking a hammer to that big block of chocolate. How very satisfying that will be. Thank you, Delly. We just love our case full of chocolate.



And to the friends who have sent flowers and cards, also, a huge, huge thank you. Our house feels full of colour and these symbols of kindness and love. It's really lovely.

Bells
xo

An awfully complicated swap

First up, thanks everyone for your very, very kind comments and emails. Someone said to me that I must think hard about whether or not to post that sort of thing, given I don't often get deeply personal here, and  yeah, I did think long and hard. 

Last time it happened, I wrote about it weeks afterwards, not immediately. It was all a bit removed by then. 

This time, writing about it more immediately seemed to help. I've read the words over and over again and in some ways, it's soothing. I've captured something about the way I feel that sort of puts it outside myself - making it somehow less sharp in the way it hurts. That's how it feels today, at least. Tomorrow, who knows?

At any rate, putting the words out there connects to me other women who've gone through this in a way that joining an online support group doesn't. I can't explain it and probably should stop trying. It helped in a small way to write a tribute to our lost little one, and that's what's important.

Onto other, nicer things. 

A while ago, RoseRed, BrownPants (who doesn't blog so much anymore, but I'll link anyway) and I participated in a swap that was a little bit different. A sock swap. It's kinda hard to explain and given I got confused about who I was knitting for a number of times, I'm not sure I can even explain it properly now. But I'll try. 

You give yarn of your own choosing to the other two participants, and they each knit a sock for you so that you get a pair of socks back for which you didn't knit a stitch.

The same is done for the others. 

The girls had to explain this to me numerous times. Even now, trying to remember the steps, I need to make hand gestures in the air and talk to myself to try and figure out how it happened. I'm so dense.

Maybe pictures will help.

Here are the socks made from my yarn, Cherry Tree Hill, with one each knit by the other two girls. That's clear, isn't it? Pattern is Nutkin. 

They are fabulous. They fit like a dream, despite being knit by two different knitters and I have worn them heaps since I got them. How good is it to have socks made out of my yarn, with not a stitch made by me?

And here is the first sock I made for BrownPants. Lorna's Laces yarn and the pattern is the Show-off Stranded Sock pattern.

To see the ones BrownPants and I made for RoseRed, check out the post she just put up!

It's a fun idea. I really recommend it as a way to try some yarn you don't own and avoid Second Sock Syndrome into the bargain!

Bells

Sometimes everything is wrong

For nearly a month I've been drafting a blog post in my head. It would have been a wonderful blog post. It would have been the announcement that I was at last pregnant. That finally, Sean and I had made it.

It would have told the story of an ordeal that some of you are aware that we have been going through for a long, long time. I was going to talk about the magic that happens the day you get the news, the day the IVF clinic calls you at home to tell you that the waiting is over, the blood test has shown what you didn't dare believe might be possible.

Instead I'm writing a different post to express how devastated we are that the little tiny being we saw on the screen this week did not have a heartbeat. The little white flicker we were so excited to see wasn't there.

The baby was. But the life wasn't.

We're two days into this recurrent nightmare. I say recurrent because a year ago this week, we lived through the same scenario, only we were more innocent then. We had no expectation that this would happen the first time we were lucky enough to succeed in an IVF attempt. We showed up at the early scan that IVF patients are granted, excited at the prospect, and left in a shattered state.

Things were good this time. They were different. I had strong, clear symptoms. I had good blood test results. My body was changing. It was a miracle. It was very different to my pregnancy last year.

A year on, I have been approaching that anniversary with relief. After what's been a very, very dark year of continued failed attempts and a depression like none I've ever known, I was not going to have to suffer the torture of living through that anniversary with a still empty womb. Unlike the due date when our baby should have been born earlier this year, I was going to be happy.

Now, I won't be. I can't. Neither of us can.

Instead, on the anniversary of that loss, I'm going to be most likely in hospital having a curette.

And starting over.

Strangely, I'm ok. Well, not really. By ok I mean I'm not comatose on the floor. I'm at work. I have a good team who have been so very sweet to me. I have my beloved sister looking out for me on the phone every day and a husband who is as shattered as I am, but taking care of and loving me.

And I have spent a little time with some friends who made me laugh. I keep hearing the great Michael Stipe's beautiful lyric floating through my head

Everybody hurts. Take comfort in your friends.

And that's exactly what I'll do. For my friends who have small babies or are having them soon, please know that I still love you and your babies. I'm just a bit scared of how I might be around you and yours for a while.

At the end of next week, Sean and I are going away for a few days. It was to be a celebratory mini-holiday. Now it'll be a recovery time because we just can't believe we're here all over again.

And trust me, this post doesn't come close to even touching the depth of my, or indeed, our sadness. If you've suffered through this hell, too, you'll know that.

Bells

You stopped and pointed and you said that's a crocus

It's a quiet day at home for me, today. A spot of down time. Doctor's orders. This suits me well and I'm making the most of it. 

But rest time doesn't always have to include couch or bed rest, as a friend said to me yesterday. So I hung out in the garden for a little while and found this. My first crocus of the year.

I just love it. Crocuses are really my sentimental favourites, not that they're even Australian. Why is that important? Because I sometimes feel disloyal loving foreign plants so much. 

At university, my favourite English literature lecturer was the late Dr Axel Clark, son of the also late historian, Manning Clark. Axel had a profound influence on me with his off beat personality and his passion for Australian history and culture. We used to talk a lot and he'd show me ways of seeing that changed so much for me. 

There's an avenue of (I think) birch trees at one of the entrances to the Australian National University and I'll never forget the day I told Axel how I loved walking through them, how I always felt somehow transported by being under their limbs. He said, 'But don't you feel as if they're not very Australian, those trees? They're a bit fraudulent, don't you think, trying to create a European atmosphere in a university in the national capital.'

He was right and I was at an age where I was ripe for seeing new things. I loved all things British or European then and I thought Australia had little to offer, entertaining my own little cultural cringe party. I began to look around and notice native trees and to see that perhaps things could be wonderful here, too. I didn't have to imagine myself somewhere foreign and exotic to feel that the world was beautiful.

That conversation with Axel comes back to me, more than a decade later when I find myself drawn to foreign flora. In the intervening years I've learned to love our natives, too but I still love an avenue of birch trees and I still adore the crocus which I always think, by rights, ought to pop out of a snow drift, not just cold dirt.

Every year, I will continue to be happy to see them pop up in the garden and every year, I'll be glad I live somewhere cold enough to grow them.

While I'm resting, I'm working on a new shawl. The Shetland Triangle by Evelyn Clark. 

After the annoyingly fiddly crochet cast on with just two little stitches, I was off and running. And this morning I remembered how hard red is to photograph. But it's Wollmeise, in Rosenrot, and you'll just have to trust me when I tell you how amazing this colour is away from a camera.

It's not just red. It's got darker patches of nearly-black which just won't show up. But it's lovely, and fast, and it's doing exactly what knitting should do right now - making me feel good.

Bells

Pretty things

I've got some stuff to show off. A random collection of pretty things that have come my way.

First up, the final part of the box that came from Amy in Rhode Island a couple of weeks ago. It's her Pay It Forward gift to me (and a timely reminder that I need to make some too!)
It's one of Amy's hand made books. Isn't it gorgeous?! The red paper is very fine and delicate and the whole thing is beautifully put together. Thank you, Amy!

Next is some fibre from Queen of the Froggers! I won Lin's blog contest!

Some of it is spun.



And some of it isn't!



What I haven't got a photo of right now is the drop spindle that came with it and sadly snapped in transit from the UK. I was devastated when I opened it at work, but Sean thinks he can fix it - and when he does, I'm going to give spinning a go. I don't imagine I'll ever become an obsessive spinner, but I would like to try it.

Remind me of that when in six months time from now I am spinning in my sleep, ok?

So thank you, Lin. It's so beautiful and I keep stroking it all and wondering what I will make of it.

Also, some flowers I got last week from a friend who thought I could use some cheering up. She was right. I needed it and they helped.


It's strange but lovely, when you think about it - receiving flowers because you get your period. Imagine how much brighter each month would be if we got flowers when the cramps set in, and not just because it meant yet another failure.



So thanks friends for pretty things. I value and treasure each one of them.

Bells

Warning: Cuteness alert

Is there anything nicer in the world than a little person who truly appreciates your knitted gifts? There have been two instances recently where I've had the chance to learn that my beloved nephew, Will, who is just four years old, loves what 'Aunty Bells' makes for him.

For his birthday, I made him his first pair of knitted socks. Note the hardwood floors in his house. They soon became known as the 'slippery socks' and then later, after a collision with the corner of a cabinet, the 'naughty socks'.

However, despite the collision, he apparently still loves them enough that on a recent trip to Brisbane, he was telling people about the socks that Aunty Bells knitted for him. Awww.

Then, a few nights ago, the phone rang in the evening and it was Will - well, it was my sister calling me for him. He was in the bath and apparently had something to tell me. He'd been washing his face with a facewasher I made from Peaches n Cream. The conversation went like this:

Will: Did Aunty Bells knit this?
Adele: Yes she did.
Will: For me?
Adele: Well, for all of us.
Will: We should say thank you.
Adele: Would you like me to get her on the phone?
Will: Yes.

And so they called and, on speaker phone (because he's shy of actually speaking on the phone) he told me all about how he loves the face cloth and said a big thank you.

That's pretty special, huh? What a dude. And here's a photo of him, just because I love him.

I think I need to knit a jumper for him now. He's old enough to appreciate it.

****

Thanks for all the tips and suggestions on dealing with migraines. Sadly, while on IVF meds, there really is very little that can be done, including caffeine (well, minimal caffeine) and the gamut of migraine medications which I'd normally be able to take. One thing I found really helped on Wednesday morning was spending longer than is really allowed on water restrictions standing under warm water in the shower. So very soothing.

Bells

Do you mind if I knit?

Recently, Kim left a comment asking about social knitting and how I do it.

See, I have never mastered the knitting while entertaining or being at someone's house. People think I'm being rude, and I succumb to the pressure and quickly put my knitting away. How DO you do it?!

This was in response to my post, late on Saturday night, in which I said the pi shawl blanky was great dinner party knitting.

It got me thinking about knitting among non-knitters and the etiquette of doing so.

I think the short answer is that from nearly the first moment I took up knitting again about four years ago, it was with other people. I crocheted in isolation for a long time, but knitting happened because of a friend, Claire, who was a newish knitter and bursting with enthusiasm for knitting. She was very attuned to what was happening around the world. She'd heard of the Stitch n Bitch book and hung around on Craftster.

She learned that people were getting together in groups, going to cafes and pubs and although we were the only younger knitters we knew then, we set about trying to set up such groups ourselves. Almost right away, we started going to the pub near my house on weekend afternoons, knitting away with beers and all afternoon chatting.

Claire has long since left town but those early days of knitting socially, albeit with another knitter, set the tone for the rest of my knitting life. I'd taken my craft out of the home, away from the couch, and into the world.

Four years on, and I've taken my knitting to all sorts of locations. Most of my good friends now know that it will happen when I'm with them. If we're sitting, eating, drinking, talking, Bells will have her knitting out faster than you can say, 'another drink anyone?'

They mostly accept that me knitting doesn't mean I'm bored with them although I'm sure we all know of situations where knitting is a reaction to boredom. It just doesn't signify boredom. We'll knit whether bored or not, right?

The challenge comes when you take the knitting out around people who either don't know you knit or, if they do know, prefer it was something you did in the privacy of your own home. It's an afront to some people and that makes it hard to be brave enough to take your knitting out.

About a year ago, I told the story of knitting at an informal cocktail gathering with a bunch of women who were not all that receptive. There were some fairly snide remarks at the time about how all those women around the world who were knitting could be doing far more important things with their time. I admit it was a bit of a social experiment to knit that night, but it also hardened my resolve to do it more.

Now, I'm less militant. I try to be very light about it. Sometimes I'll ask, 'Do you mind if I knit?' and I might explain I just like to keep my hands busy and I can concentrate just fine. Some people will joke, 'Oh, we're that boring are we?' and I'll make a joke or just explain that actually it's a sign that I'm so comfortable I'd love to be knitting.

In fact, that's really my most common method of addressing any concerns people have. I make sure it's clear that knitting is a sign of comfort, not avoidance or boredom. Unless of course it is exactly about that, in which case, I just lie!

****
A quick couple of things:

- the garden appears to be fine. The little shits who abused me haven't been back;

- thank you so much for all your kind wishes about IVF. Those who've been around a while know we've been doing this for nearly a year - but we've just started a new level of treatment and well, it's not going so great so far, but thank you. Kind words and support are always appreciated. I might even write about it in a little more detail some time.

Bells

A day in the country

Yesterday was our day trip to the Southern Highlands - or more specifically, two small towns called Berrima and Bowral, where we were to meet RoseRed.

The day started out promisingly grey. This is the view out over Lake George, which, as you can quite clearly see, is not a lake at all and hasn't been for a long time.


Sean and I arrived in Berrima ages before RoseRed did. We were early. Very early. We hung out with a pig.
Don't ask why. He was just cute and seemed like he could use a cuddle.

Sean headed off to Bowral to meet a mate who was getting the train in from Sydney for the expressed purpose of drinking beers with Sean in a local watering hole. Clearly, I would be driving home.

I took photos while waiting for RoseRed to arrive. This is the main street of Berrima.


Some colours of autumn.



A little heritage listed cottage on which there is a sign explaining it was formerly the butcher shop in around 1867.


Once RoseRed arrived, the real fun began. Tea and scones in The White Horse Inn, followed by disappointment in the alpaca store (RoseRed couldn't get what she was after) and then a spot of fabric shopping.



I'm going to continue my sewing endeavours with those.

Then, onto Bowral and Wool Addiction, which is just as delightful a wool store as you are ever likely to find and also doubles as my contribution to the "This Is My..." meme this week. The subject for this week is This is My....Latest Discovery. Wool Addiction. I had no idea such a wonderful shop was so close to home. It's got everything.

Including Noro. Which I bought. I had to. Just two skeins mind.



Later, when we met up with Sean and he tried to guess the price per skein, I laughed and laughed and laughed at his first estimate. He didn't. For the uninitiated, of which I was one until yesterday, Noro Silk Garden is part silk, part kid mohair, part lambs wool. Sigh. Once explained to him, Sean understood entirely.

At the pub, RoseRed and her Cherry Tree Hill yarn were reunited. Cherry didn't want to leave me at first, but was soon convinced to return to her mum.


Lastly, RoseRed produced, from the boot of her car, a box. She called it a Box of Happy.

This is a very special box. It's to help me endure the trials of IVF, which I'm going through at the moment. Each time I need a spot of happiness, I'm to reach into the box and find something to unwrap. It's utterly perfect. Thank you, RoseRed, for this and for a fabulous day.

Bells

Saturday Afternoon Contentment

Thanks for all the votes on the Donyale socks. If you haven't voted yet, and would like to, the poll will be in the sidebar for a few more days. I'm quite surprised by the outcome so far.

***

It's been raining. Isn't that wonderful? Last night we had a cracker of a thunderstorm. Today the sky is heavy and grey and I love it. There's plenty of time left for scorching heat. Today, I'm enjoying the soothing grey, as seen above my rose bush.

Sean has just come home from the Computer Fair and says there's a huge downpour on the other side of Black Mountain and he drove home slowly. Bring it on!

This morning I checked out the $2/ball sale at Cassidy's. There wasn't a lot left after some people, who shall remain nameless, apparently cleaned the shop out, but I ducked in quickly anyway and came out with this. Some Caressa, some Cleckheaton Country, some Jet and some Patonyle (not on sale).


I don't know if I have much in the way of immediate use for this stuff but the colours were nice and it's been a while since I stash enhanced with anything other than sock yarn. And to show I'm not entirely selfish, I called RoseRed while I was there and made sure I got some stuff for her too. She's coming down from Sydney next weekend so I'll be able to hand it to her in person! Yay!

And look at my socks! If you recall, this was gift yarn from Mad, Mad Rachel. It's my bus knitting and I'm finding it utterly enjoyable.

Some time this afternoon, we are going to meet the woman who may well be our new cleaner. Mad, Mad Rachel talked about having a cleaner recently and it got me thinking. Fortuitously, a woman dropped a flyer in our mailbox recently. I spoke to her on the phone this morning and she sounds lovely. All things going well, she'll ensure I have a nice clean house next weekend when I have a little, or not so little, afternoon tea. I can focus on the cooking and not the cleaning.

So there is much to feel content about right now. I needed today to remember this. It's hard when I realised this morning that it's December today. 2007 will close soon and we're still not parents. This year we got closer than we have in the last three yers, but we're not there yet. We are taking a break from IVF and just enjoying December. No tests. No drugs. No waiting. I think the lesson I'm learning here is twofold.

1. Don't set unrealistic goals (ie: wanting to be pregnant by the end of the year) and
2. Have more Saturday afternoons where I take stock of the good things that are in my life. Like tonight, I'm giving away the red socks I made and that will make me very happy. They're going to a fellow IVF buddy and we'll eat, drink and be merry, enjoying our lives for what they are and not for what they lack.

I think I can do that.