The Theoretical Aspects of Knitting (and other weird stuff)

Thank you for your wonderful comments. While I haven’t yet sold my children into slavery, I have toyed with the idea of plonking them out by the roadside with a 20 dollar note attached in the hope some passer by will claim them.

The afternoon tea was a non-starter as both littlies developed various yucky illnesses – the boy had gastro and the girl a fever – we’ll do afternoon tea next week. That’s the problem with having birthdays in winter – it tends to laughs in the time of cholera, or plague or possibly flu. The latest flu scare is a little worrying – with strong and healthy people dying of flu.

I’ve had flu – in fact I used to welcome a decent dose of the flu in winter – not only did you get to spend a couple of days in bed or convalescing in a big armchair drinking cups of tea and knitting, but you could usually count on losing 5 kilos with absolutely no effort – I used to think of it as the no fuss winter weight loss program.

As you can tell, I haven’t had the flu for years (that’s my excuse for the Junoesque figure) and, let’s face it, being sick certainly lost it gloss when children came along. When I was young, being sick meant a day or so in bed, a pile of magazines, tinned tomato soup (a treat in our house) flat lemonade, crackers and mother’s soothing hands on my forehead.

Apart from a short spell at uni with a gay flatmate who gave me similar care, being sick hasn’t been as much fun since! But even after that, the prospect of a few days off from work and schlepping around the house, or lying on the sofa had its own appeal. Once you have children, forget about restful illness.

I look back rather wistfully on my time in hospital – daughter was a difficult pregnancy and I was on first name terms with the staff on the women’s and children’s ward after several admissions. I spent 2 weeks in their care trying not to have a baby (it worked until 34 weeks) and I thoroughly enjoyed it – people brought me meals, cups of tea and made my bed. I was fussed over and for 3 weeks or so I didn’t have to do the washing, ironing or washing up. As I look back, it was a holiday.

The second pregnancy only had one week in after the C-section, but even that was a pleasant break. I can see why my grandmother (who had 5 children) loved the 3 weeks in hospital that each new baby brought in those days. I remember her saying that ‘People brought me cups of tea!’- an unaccustomed treat for her. These days of course, it’s 3 days in hospital for a natural birth and five for a C-sec. Unless you’re a private patient – then you get a week for a C-section.

Had a lovely morning at Community Knitting yesterday. The same group from the first one, and a nice gossip. I got through 2 more of Taph’s beanies in around 3 and ½ hours – and the interesting thing was – all these ladies of a certain age – mainly in their 60s or so, and they were fascinated by my socks (I was wearing Spidey’s rainbow socks – heels re-knitted last week and had taken my sock knitting bag because it has my paraphernalia – scissors, darning needles etc- and one completed turtle walk sock). And when I cast on for the beanie using a twisted German cast-on, five of them clustered around for a lesson.

It struck me that these women had been knitting all their lives – for themselves and their families, for charities and presents, but they had never set out to learn more about knitting. They are all wonderful knitters, they can fair isle and cable, a couple have done intarsia. Most (I’m envious) can crochet, but they cast on and off one way. They knit but they don’t set out to extend their skills or learn the history of knitting. I’ve been vaguely obsessive for just over a year. I know and use 8 different ways to cast on, knit all sorts of stuff, know about the history and techniques.

This isn’t to say I’m an expert – or even a good knitter – I’m not on my learner’s licence, but I’m probably on my ‘P’ plates. I have aspirations. I am interested. I want to learn lots more about my chosen craft. I want to understand it.

One of the ladies said she couldn’t teach her left handed daughter to knit. I asked if she would be better learning the continental method. They all looked at me as if I were from Mars. I explained that the left hand did all the work, demonstrated (badly- I’m not good at the continental method) and suggested that some people fairisle this way, because they can have the colours in different hands. They still looked at me very oddly.

These are really good knitters. They make beautiful objects. Most of them have been knitting for longer than I’ve been alive. And I have more technical – and theoretical - knowledge than them. To say I was gobsmacked was putting it mildly!

So thank you to all of you – all you bloggers who support me and keep me interested and obsessive. Who discuss the technical and theoretical aspects of our chosen craft. Who encourage me to extend my skills and KAL and try the new. Who provide beautiful pictures of WIPS which make me slaver with covetousness. Who provide advice and encouragement and funny and smart comments. Who make me laugh as I vicariously join you in your lives. This WIPs for you.

Angling for a holiday (or some time off)

Well, there’s nothing like starting off your day with a pap smear and blood test! Or being woken by the whining of … sorry, laughter of little children.

Destructoboy’s 3rd birthday today – but I had to race off to a doctor’s appointment for the aforementioned checks (my strategy for not spending time in waiting rooms revolves around trying to get the first appointment of the day, before they get a chance to run too far behind – I have been known to give doctors a bill for my time – charged at my consultancy rates!).

He has been asking for a torch for ages (so did Princess for her 3rd birthday) so he got a Torch truck and various other goodies. This afternoon some friends are bringing their littlies around for a visit and afternoon tea. This will involve fairy bread (it’s not really a birthday without fairy bread), chips (crisps), apple tea cake and muffins. You can see I’m going all out on this one!

Truth to tell, I’m just exhausted. I’ve still got the lurking lurgy, I’ve got a convalescent husband (I keep snapping ‘it’s not as bad as a c-section, stop being such a girl’), I’m still chasing my daughter with eye drops and at least Destructoboy can be fairly said to be toilet trained now. Quite frankly, I’d be happy to go to bed, lock the door and let them fight over a packet of mixed lollies for dinner!

Why is it that mothers are always so tired? How come we never seem to get any time off? Heavens above, you only get 10 years for murder – and you’re likely to have time off for good behaviour!

I don’t even get to go to the toilet without small voices outside demanding to be let in – afraid that I’ll sneak out the bathroom window and run away if they don’t keep their eyes on me. (And don't think I haven't been tempted!)

On a lighter note, I re-knitted the heels on the 3 socks my Crocs ate. This took up valuable knitting time, but it’s like finishing 3 pairs of socks all at once!!! I also cast on for the second Turtle Walk sock. I had a parcel from England yesterday with Rowanspun mist grey DK, and I’m waiting for the arrival of some Yorkshire Aran. Apart from the purchase of some yarn for the Happy Clappy KAL, I’m not going to buy any wool for a while.

Well probably not. Unless it’s a bargain. Or too beautiful to resist. Or sock yarn. Or something involving silk. Or cashmere.

Oh, poop! Who am I trying to kid? We all know that if I have money, or room on my credit card, that I will buy more yarn if it offers itself to me. Even if I have to chase it down and crash tackle it!

In-laws, Star Wars and Koalas

Well, I survived the onslaught on the in-laws. We had 11 for lunch – got up moderately early and made French bread, beat the living daylights out of the pumpkin soup and added coconut cream, orange juice, cardamom, garam masala and jalfreezi curry paste, put on a Christmas pudding to boil, made quiches and felt dreadful – sandpaper throat, earache, cough – had been hit by lurgy in the night – drank around 44 gallons of blackcurrant juice (possibly a slight exaggeration) and only 1 latte!

Everything went off without a hitch – the presents were wonderful, the children were angelic, the food was fine, the weather was pretty good (the flood having gone down by then) and the Accountant and I looked like fabulous, well organised parents. How wrong impressions can be!

It was the old saying about the swan all over again – you know, the one about looking serene and unruffled on the surface, while underneath the water the legs are going like egg beaters? Well, the main fridge and its associated freezer died on Monday. The man is coming tomorrow to take it away and install a new compressor. It’s currently an extremely expensive gallery for children’s art and shopping lists. Hooray for the beer fridge.

This is much smaller and means that much of my wine and San Pelligreno mineral water has been unceremoniously tipped into the pantry. The pantry is cold enough to crystallise honey and make my olive oil go solid, but it really isn’t properly cold enough for wine. Or mineral water. There’s certainly much less room than in our usual fridge.

On the up side – at least it forced me to clean the other fridge out properly.

As soon as everyone left yesterday, I promptly collapsed. I didn’t even quite get the Turtle Walk sock finished. I’m halfway through the toe decreases – photos tomorrow, I promise.

Then in the middle of all this I realised that it was a really good friend’s birthday yesterday – AND I HADN’T KNITTED HER ANYTHING! Luckily, I won’t see her till Friday, when she brings her kids over for Destructoboy’s birthday and I actually have ‘Last Minute Knitted Gifts’ out of the library (a book I think I must buy) and I will knit her the wrist warmers. So tonight’s job is to get those wrist warmers going – I have the yarn (Silk Road) and the needles in my ziplock project bag, all ready for the off.

I think the reason I didn’t finish was that we watched the last Starwars film last night. We’ve had a bit of a fest over the last week or so and watched all six in order. I must say that doing this shows how poor the most recent three (first 3 in the sixology) are in comparison to the first three. (last 3 in the sixology) The ones from the 70s and 80s are better scripted and acted, have a better story, more humour and take themselves far less seriously. The special effects were amazing for their time, but the films didn’t rely on them – they were much better all round entertainment.

The most recently made were portentous and took themselves much too seriously. Despite the stellar casts, Anakin was a pretty crappy actor and the films relied on special effects, rather than great script and story, to carry the film. They seemed too much like a cash-in exercise – too bitty and badly edited – too much jumping about.

There. That should provoke some comment. I will say that I saw the films in the 70s and 80s when they were released and loved them, and time hasn’t dimmed that love – I really think they are great romps and despite seeing them heaps of time, I still think they’re pretty well perfect – I love the mixture of action and tongue in cheek.

From the toilet training battle front – Destructoboy finally had his first poo in the big toilet – and event inspiring much praise, a present (dinosaur underpants), jellybeans and a caramello koala – I want to make sure that I don’t many more pooey pants to wash, believe me.

I have no problem with bribery – none at all! I am happy to bribe my way into old age. ‘Anything that works’, is my motto. I would have been appeasing and negotiating with terrorists and paying ransoms with no qualms whatsoever. See – it takes an attitude like this to be a really appalling parent – oh, and a pantry full of jelly beans and caramello koalas!

It's my party

Well we’ve survived the 5th birthday party – getting to be old hands at thegame now, and it gets a bit easier in some ways as they get older. Ten little girls, and 2 little boys all 5 or nearly 5, a ‘Come as your favourite fairy tale character’ theme – the girls did Disney proud with Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, 2 Snow Whites (including the Princess), a Dalmatian, a number of assorted fairies. The boys went to less effort – 1 had a tube on his nose (yep, Pinocchio in a wildlife warriors T-shirt), the other turned up as Harry Potter and took his robes off within a millisecond of arriving.

Destructoboy did not dress up. His only interest in the entire party thing was the Party food, so he sat in a high chair in solitary splendour, eating his way through chips, fairy bread and the icing on 2 cup cakes while ignoring everything else.

The kids had a great time. We did bursting balloon games, balloon races (you’ll notice we like balloons – they’re cheap, cheerful and unlikely to break the china or injure others) and pass the parcel – a prize for everyone and messages such as ‘to the person who makes the best animal noise’, who has the longest tongue, who blows the best raspberry, makes the funnniest face etc. This is as much fun for the parents as the children.

Then party food, the cake, playtime, loot bags and home – while the Accountant and I collapsed exhausted into a glass of wine.

Princess was over the moon about her presents – hooray for parents who buy crafty stuff and useful things – she scored a little over night case, which will no doubt later become a beauty case, some dolls and books and activity books. All deeply satisfying and lots of fun.

The mess was minimal and quickly cleared up – hooray for plastic plates and tablecloths and for having the food bit on a polished wooden floor – slightly louder but very easy to vacuum up – and now they’re a little older – no spillage!

Everyone was getting into the party spirit. Cat of the House (COTH) brought home a friend last night. I let him in and he was closely followed by a rather gorgeous ginger and white fellow. The ginger and white boy decided to claim the back room as his territory and was promptly hustled outside again. He would very much have liked to return inside, but I decided that one cat is enough. We once acquired a cat when I was a child because he came inside, ate everyone else’s dinner and refused to leave.

It’s an interesting way to acquire residents – ‘He followed me home, Mum – can I keep him’ has to be one of the oldest excuses for acquiring a pet (and one I used to use with remarkable frequency and success when I was younger. I love having a houseful of animals, but we are hoping to have some holidays over the next few years and animals must be cared for. I haven’t wanted another dog since our gorgeous elderly black lab died last year and while I love cars they tend to be hard on native wildlife, bells and nights inside not withstanding.

I have a feeling that rabbits and guinea pigs may just be providing meals for quolls and we’re down to 2 bantams who eat, scratch around and provide eggs for about 6 weeks a year!

Tried out my ball winder on Friday and it gave me a large tangled mass – maybe it doesn’t like the Colinette jitterbug. Managed no knitting that night as I prepared for the party instead and last night I spent the entire allocated knitting period doing 3 rounds of the Red Bird May sock of the month and then disentangling and re-balling the damn jitterbug.

Tonight ironing night (hope there’s a decent movie on) and if I’m fast I might get some knitting done. Squatty sidekick remains unfelted and Rowan aran un-balled.

As a knitter, this weekend has been an abject failure.

As a parent – maybe I’m not as appalling as I hoped.