Should Auld Acquaintance be Forgot....

Well, the votes are in and most people preferred ‘a stash of knitters’, but there was some feeling out there for a ravel of knitters.

I was surprised that we all missed the obvious one – a yarn of knitters. This would work 2 ways (considering that most of us are, um, somewhat loquacious). We could also be a skein of knitters – so that would work, too.

Currently we have an old friend of mine staying for a few days. The Director and I have been friends since I was in Kindergarten and he was in grade 2. He is good looking, articulate, straight, witty, funny and a great cook. He is single.

His is also, I should point out, highly sought after, but rebuffs advances. He likes his urban life just the way it is. When he needs rural recreation he visits us and gardens. He weeds and prunes, mows and digs up thistles. The children adore his visits and he copes very well with small people following him around. We drink red wine and eat nice food. My husband gets on really well with him. In fact, on both occasions I was in hospital having children the Director came to stay and he and the Accountant went out for dinner and drank rather a lot of red.

This got me thinking about long relationships. Up until my 20s I complained that most of my relationships only lasted around 6 months (with a couple of exceptions which went on much too long!). Then I realised that I was too focussed on boy/girl love/romance relationships and that I wasn’t terribly good at those.

What I was good at was friendships. I put work into friendships. I had a number of friendships that had lasted decades. Many of my friends had been that way since I was 4, 5 or 6. They definitely outlasted romances. They also overcame living in different states and countries, they outlasted marriages (on their side, not mine). They outlasted fashion disasters, the sixties, seventies and eighties,nineties and noughties, careers and studies.

These friendships were both male and female. They were substantial and dynamic. A gap of a few years made very little difference to the quality of the relationship.

On one occasion, I hadn’t seen an old friend for more than 10 years. We slipped back into the friendship with no change in tempo – it was as if one of us had popped out for some milk.

These are not static friendships. They contain no competition (although there is occasionally friendly rivalry). They have no problem with different interests or priorities, even different politics. The wax and wane sometimes, but have remained the lodestone of my life. I value these friendships.

So while I am still pretty hopeless at romance, the Accountant and I started off as friends, then became best friends and then the romance followed. We are still best friends, but there’s always room for more friends, old and new.

So after all that, I am pretty good at relationships. They just weren’t the ones I was thinking of!

You put this bit in, you take this box out....

Hurrah for declutteration!!

I am feeling like a de-cluttering powerhouse today!!! Hurrah for our school fair and its white elephant stall - I am supplying white, blue yellow and polka dot elephants at present!


IN:

Well - the ins are always with us!

The Shoes (see yesterday's post)
A top for me
4 balls of Anchor Magic line cotton I forgot to fess up to last week!
10 balls babysilk cashmere (Prestige yarns sale)
400gr Bendi mango Cotton
600gr Bendi Rustic green
Some Spidey yarn
3 sewing patterns from Taph


OUT:

Portacot - sold
Baby backpack - sold
Pram - sold
4 bags childrens clothes - sold on ebay
1 bag clothes - Lifeline
6 boxes crockery and glassware (around 150 items)- donation
1 large moving box kitchen gear (around 80 items or more) - donation
1 large box books - donation
12 lipsticks - old and colour strange and dried out - binned
4 chipped plates - binned
1 vase - broken - I wasn't going to fix it - despite past protestations - binned

I'm not even going to count them up, because this week the 'OUTS' are certainly out weighing the 'INS'

I'm feeling better already!

I'm so pleased that Taph put me onto this challenge. Its a wonderful thing and I feel better with every box and bag that leaves the house. I'm also much more conscious of what's coming in to the house, and tend to check with myself whether we really need something - or I just want it!

On that note, I'll point out that Bendigo Woollen Mills is having a sale until December!! Also, that Meaghan at Yarns Online is having a book sale. The Prestige Yarns sale continues.

You have been warned!

A Tinking of Knitters? A Purl of Knitters?

Just thought I’d get a head start on Shoesday! Found these in the local op-shop, never worn, $4! Red, Rosered, Red! That makes 4 pairs of red shoes in the last 2 months or so, a personal record! So why on earth am I wearing my aging green crocs today? I have no idea. Excuse me while I change!

The 7 things challenge reached a bit of a crescendo this weekend! I’ll put in my updates tomorrow – but a large chunk of the weekend was spent unwrapping stuff, looking at it and re-wrapping it and placing in boxes for the white elephant stall. I even managed to part with some books – more next weekend, I hope.

I have difficulty parting with books – even books I don’t like. The 2 exceptions to this were ‘Chung Quo’ which was so sexist and violent that I heaved it into a bin and the first Traci Harding book which I felt was lazy, poorly proofed and badly edited. That got heaved into a bin somewhere in Ireland (so disappointing when you hate your holiday reading). While backpacking through South East Asia in the 1980s I used to take James Clavell books – weighty, but a high swap value – and interesting to read. However, I met 2 favourite books in Singapore and refused to part with them – Mark Helprin’s ‘A Winter’s Tale’ and Raymond Feist’s ‘Magician’ – about 3 months before it reached Australia. I refused to part with them and carted them through Malaysia, Thailand and Indonesia.

However, today’s post is not really about books. It’s really about collective nouns. I am a great collector of collective nouns – I love them. They’re a peculiarly English language thing, and a great drunken party game. You’ll remember some:
A gaggle of geese
A dabble of ducks
A murder of crows
A bumble of bears
An exaltation of larks
An unkindness of ravens
A shrewdness of apes
A sulk of foxes
A pride of lions, and so on.

The Princess's school diary has a whole page of these things – and I just love them. There are hundreds of these, and a favourite game after a few drinks is to invent new ones. (Yes, we are nerdy, Arabella, but someone has to be.)

Some of ours are
A corruption of politicians (sometimes changed to a headline of politicians)
An argument of lawyers
A plunger of plumbers
A shortness of jockeys
A rate of councillors
An investigation of police
A perseverance of farmers, and so on

Invent your own. A fun game for the whole family! Costs nothing!

So what are we? A tinking of knitters? A purl of knitters? Please not a frog of knitters? A whoredom of stashers? A spindle of dyers? A niddy noddy of spinners? A colour of dyers? What do you think?

Thinking of the lucky ducks that went for a road trip to Waratah fibres got me thinking about this. That and the fact that I still haven’t finished the mystery sock!

Sox, Sox, Sox - Is That All You Ever Think About?

Well, sometimes - but I also think about shawls and jumpers and jackets and cardis and hats and patterns .....

It's hard to explain to a muggle (especially a muggle husband) the true, pure joy of knitting. The fact that the knitting itself is great and so is the giving or wearing of an item you made, with your hands. This creation is a very primal thing, I think.

I imagine that anyone who creates anything feels a surge of pride that their hands and minds have created this beautiful thing.

I have a bent (enough sniggering down the back) for creating useful, functional and sometimes wearable items. As a potter, I specialised in ware, that is, things which people could use to eat or drink from, or to serve food and drink. I admired those who specialised in sculpture or 3 dimensional art pieces, but that was not where my skills or inclination lay. I have sewn and enjoyed it (although since the advent of children, my sewing machine has not had much of a workout!), and I love to cook (but not clean, as you already know!).

I love to create things, and that was my one problem with my academic career. Although I am the proud holder of several degrees, the problem with academic life is that for all the work you put in, you don't always have anything really tangible to show for it. You have words, or reports, or project notes, and although in the hands of a poet or writer words can be beautiful and revolutionary, in the hands of an academic essayist or researcher, that is not usually the case. Your academic words may change the world, but they are rarely as beautiful or fulfilling as the things you make with your hands.

Mind you, it's still miles better than any words I wrote back in the dark days of working for the public service, specifically in the CES (Commonwealth Employment Service, for those of you too young to remember this institution)!

Knitting not only allows me to create beautiful object which I enjoy wearing and giving, but it also allows me to exercise my mind (all that maths and creative visualisation), and to design. My first ever socks design is on the needles and is working really well at present (small break for sacrifices and libations for Knitting Goddesses).

I have posted my first completed socks on the SSS blog and am working on the second pair - don't expect close-ups though - if they work I'm aiming for my first knitty.com rejection!

Ins and Outs and Shake it all abouts:

A better week this week than last! The de-cluttering fairy has been helping me this week!

IN:

3 balls Jet, 3 prs knitting needles, fridge magnets and plastic table cover stuff - from the Doomlight of Spot!
3 balls yarn for my tea cosy swap
1 swift and ball winder (courtesy of the lovely Donyale)
1 top, 1 girl's dress, 2 bamboo handles, 2 doll's dresses (op-shop)
1 layby paid off (stocking stuff for children - 4 boys t-shirts
3 books knitting patterns (gift in from stepmother!)

OUT
1 pair shoes (gift)
1 large bag clothes (op shop)
1 bag hats and toys (child care centre)
4 bags children's clothes (ebay)
1 cot (sold)
1 car seat (sold)
25 kg of walnuts (sold)
1 book (gift)
4 pairs girls shoes (gift)

The work continues - I hope to have several boxes leaving the house this weekend!

I Love Paris in the Springtime... (NO, Not THAT Paris!)

You Belong in Paris

You enjoy all that life has to offer, and you can appreciate the fine tastes and sites of Paris. You're the perfect person to wander the streets of Paris aimlessly, enjoying architecture and a crepe.

What European City Do You Belong In?

It's interesting, because Paris along with Florence and Rome, is one of my favourite cities. I have always found the Parisians friendly and polite (don't laugh) with one exception. Perhaps it's because I'm an Australian and they really don't think that Australians should speak French, or perhaps because my cookbook and Ballet French is so laughably bad that they thought I was.. ummm... intellectually challenged and they had to be nice to me! Regardless, I've always had a great time in France - in Nice we met a restauranteur who had spent time in Australia who kept bringing out the GOOD wine while we chatted, and on another occasion I couldn't remember the address of our hotel and we went round and round and round and round the Pigalle roundabout in a taxi with the meter turned off while the patient taxi driver waited until I remembered what the street looked like! (I did incidentally, otherwise I would still be there!)

Ahh, Paris, City of food - and shoes! I'd like to go shopping with Rosered in Paris - I think we could scare any shoe shop owner into submission!

Here is the finished Juno!!



Although I did block it by steaming it, I have had to wash it properly, because the wool has a very strong dye smell, and I wanted to get rid of it! I love it - despite the miles of 2x2 rib and the miles and miles and miles of not 4 (because I was obviously stunned) but 6 interlacing cables and 2 extra baby cables on each side!

I have also almost finished the tulips socks and have the invention socks ready to start and all the materials for my tea cosy swap ready to go! It's knitting central here, guys!

Due to being harrassed by a small and very loud boy (who'd have thunk it!) This is only a short blog - have to collect the Princess from school and hear all about the kindergarten trip to a wildlife park - including local examples, plus exotica such as Tyson the Bison! Pray for me!

Every Home Should Have One...

Okay. Please admire this. (Shoe is for scale). This is Juno’s collar. It is finished, but unblocked (as you probably noticed). This is my first ever attempt at cables and I did nearly 6 freaking feet of them – four intertwined lines, edged with four more lines.

It looks like this when you get closer.



I can’t believe the sheer scale and gorgeousness of what I have created. I am continually impressed by the amazement of knitting. By the way – if you see any mistakes (I know there is one stitch in there that is not doing what it is supposed to and I’ve decided to live with it because it was 2 feet from the end when I saw it!), I don’t want to know – really, I don’t. (You don’t see any, do you – because – well I’d just have to cry at you and then we’d both be embarrassed and I look so awful when I cry – you know how it is – drippy, swollen, red nose – what do you mean you can’t see any difference from the way I look normally? I’m going to cry!)
.
I like to think of that stitch as the deliberate imperfection included by a knitter. Japanese master potters always marred their work slightly, introducing a deliberate imperfection to make their work human, and to not challenge the gods. Every time we packed a kiln, someone would do something that made them bleed (accidentally, not on purpose – though if there had been no blood….), and we always considered that a sacrifice to ensure the firing went smoothly.

That misplaced stitch is my sacrifice. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.



On a different note, I thought I’d include this photo of the incredibly originally named Blue Lake. The colour has not been touched and it is a very grey day – isn’t that the most gorgeous aqua you have ever seen? Apparently the white clay at the bottom of the lake reflects the sky, but if that is so, by my reckoning the water ought to be a drab grey with dark grey overtones.

I have a theory. I have decided that the world consists of two types of people (stop me if you’ve heard this before). The first type is the instruction reader. When they receive a new appliance or gadget, they open the box, remove the instructions, read them from cover to cover, acquainting themselves fully with the device and its controls. They ensure they understand its quirks and the expected outcomes and results. Only when this process is complete, will they unpack the appliance or gadget, carefully removing all components from the box, assemble it and turn it on. My husband is this type of person.

The second type receives a gadget, rips the box open, whacks it together and turns it on. They may mutter things like ‘Yup – this bit goes here’ and ‘I wonder what that is for?’. They may occasionally look at the picture on the outside of the box – just a glance to check that it looks roughly right. They will refer to the instruction manual if, and only if, the device will not work, breaks down, or makes a peculiar noise. I am this type of person.

In 1998, we bought a 6 year old, second hand BMW. The Accountant had coveted a BMW since he was a teenager, and now he owned one (in both our names, of course). He read the 240 page manual from cover the cover several times, making sure he really understood this piece of German engineering perfection. Then he told me I wasn’t allowed to drive it until I read the manual. I didn’t drive the car for nearly a year. I still haven’t read the manual – I just waited him out.

I thought about this again yesterday, when a friend rang to ask if the Accountant would chauffeur her eldest son to his Grade 10 School Leavers’ Dinner. In Tasmania, you finish high school in grade 10 – except in some private schools which offer classes to grade 12. Grades 11 and 12 are offered at matriculation colleges, on separate campuses and with entirely different rules to high schools. They generally don’t require a school uniform and have a more relaxed attitude to pupils coming and going from school property.

They were originally designed as a bridge to the independence of university. Now they mainly exist to keep kids off unemployment lines and try to get them to stay at school until they’re 18. Tasmania has the lowest rates in Australia of school retention to grade 12, mainly due to this system.

But, back to the Leavers’ Dinner. I remember when this couple started dating. I remember when the son was born – the Accountant and I have been together longer than he has been in the world. This is a sobering fact – or perhaps the sort of fact which requires drunkenness – I’m still working on that one. Of course he can arrive in the BMW.

There is a tradition of arriving in exotic transport for these dinners. Rich parents have supplied helicopters and limousines. Inventive parents and children have used enormous trucks, tractors, horses (with and without carriages) and all types of cares – from the sublime (beautiful vintage cars) to the ridiculous (tuktuks and gogomobiles). It’s all part of the fun.

So he will get the BMW. He’s just got to clean it first!

In and Out and In-Between

Well, the de-cluttering fairy has certainly been giving MY place a miss this week!



IN
(Just been to the op-shop)

Lovely lined straw tote with bamboo handles
Stone coloured linen skirt
Overnight bag for Princess
Gorgeous fine wool purple Country Road jumper (going straight out again – gift for stepmother)
2 balls of gorgeous sock yarn – not from op – shop – from ebay
Turkish drop spindle
Addi turbo needle
6 bamboo buttons for Juno



OUT


2 balls sock yarn – sold on ebay
10 items children’s clothing - sold on eBay
The appalling cone winder of doom – sold on ebay
1 box assorted stuff – school fete white elephant stall
1 bag clothes etc – Lifeline (I buy so much from them, it’s only fair I replace it sometimes!)
Gorgeous purple jumper see above (gift)


In – 9 items (counting buttons as 1)
Out -16 items
Just made the 7 things this week – will have to do better for next week!

Now, speaking of obsession – I forgot to mention some incredibly telling signs of obsessions (yes, yes, they do all apply to me, and, I’m extremely glad to say, to most of you too. In fact, it’s very telling that most of you didn’t turn a hair when reading the list, which only goes to show that we may have a teeny, weeny problem here, Houston).

You may have an obsession if:

- you visit the Jansz winery, which specialises in champagne style saparkling wines (take THAT, appellation controllee). You try the yummy wines. You buy some yummy wines. You buy a bottle of the expensive vintage sparkling champagne-y wine (hah!! Appellation Controlleee). Your very first thought is’ Look at the great packaging for that bottle – my knitting needles will fit in that lidded tube beautifully!’


- you are still trying to work out a method of knitting while asleep


- you are evangelical in your pursuit of non-knitters


- many of your non-knitting friends have begun to get a glazed, yet hunted, look in their eyes when you speak to them of knitting. Nevertheless, you are sure that if you could only explain the excitement to them properly they would take up your standing offer of lessons and learn to knit.


- you drink the vintage champagne-y sparkling wine and, guess what – the needles fit in the tube brilliantly.

One of our Canadian friends didn’t understand the Catweazle reference in my post from a few days ago. Catweazle (for the un-initiated, and those below a certain age (pah)), was a BBC children’s series from the 1970s, starring Geoffrey Bayldon, about an inept Medieval magician and alchemist who is transported to the 20th century, and his adventures in the 1970s. He tended to fizz and pop when confronted with modern technology, become addicted to bananas and adored ‘Electrickery!’ People of a certain age (yes, yes, alright, ME!) still giggle and use that term.

Mind you, I STILL think faxes are magic – you put a drawing in one end, and out it comes in Hong Kong or Murmansk (or both if you have my fax!). Remarkable invention, and much spiffier than teletypes.

Technology and I are old foes despite my nerd rating– my computer keyboard, for example, has swapped the AT and the “. I have to think every time I type in my email address and go for the quotation mark key, and not the ‘at’ key. In time, this will become habitual, and whenever I use a properly working keyboard, I will get them mixed up and have problems with everyone’s email address.

On a more selfish note, ignore everything Donyale said about sales at a certain yarn shop. I’m sure they’re not really having one. Stay away. You won’t like the yarn. Truly. Bound to be awful. Itchy. Splitty. Really. Please don’t buy all the things I want before I can get there!