Pastels

Winter berries, bare branches and pastels… strange, but 87-year-olds get whatever 87-year-olds want.  And this yarn from English Yarns may look soft and fuzzy,however the end product is angled towards very practical warmth... 

- still at work on a very late Christmas present indeed... about to be even later due to Franciska fallout, seasonal demands and most recent addition to my joys:, an eye infection.

But, happy new year and here's to the next  project.... 

To knit or not to knit…

If someone were to say I must, I'd probably never knit another stitch, but the luxury is all in having the option

This week, an elderly neighbour from childhood died and people gathered for her funeral.  Some extremely old women, unseen literally for decades, reemerged for the first time in eons to pay respects....  local ladies who'd been widowed, sold up and moved on long since -  former powerhouses from my early childhood now in need of sight, hearing and walking aids.  Back into the old church they came slowly from different directions, leaning on only marginally more youthful relatives, to send off one of their own.  Swathed in shawls and clucked over by all, they mostly remained serene and removed until spotting similarly burdened contemporaries of yore:  then they clapped their hands and cracked up like school girls at their own resilience and the fact it wasn't quite their turn yet. 

ArRiva Round-up (!)

A couple of years ago I got some Riva in one of This Is Knit’s brilliant sales and literally made up this sweater for Jane as I went along – you’ll have heard about Jane before: she’s like family - When I went to meet her last week she was wearing it. In its own right, it's nothing particularly remarkable, but the fact that it’s still on the go and looking well on her is amazingly gratifying.  The pattern (so far as I can remember what I did) is hereby copyrighted as "Jane" by Karen Duggan!

Then I met my godson, Jonathan, who’s more or less family too (although his blood relations may have a thing or two to say about that).  And he's  just in for the holiday season.  But woohoo -look - the scarf!

Best part of this time of year is everyone coming home - my son is due to get on a flight shortly too - safe home, Tom!  See you soon!

It's a time that doesn't always bring out the best though. Fractiousness, when you're not immediately available to accept a hassled friend's goodwill, is endemic, as is bah-humbug when you realise that you now have to go out and buy another gift, because someone upped and broke the habit of a lifetime and gave you something for nothing - something, as it happens too, that you really didn't want (and now they've signed you up, you're just going to have to take those classes with that person) (or some equally dismal outlook)

A few years ago we had the only white Christmas in my memory, and just as well it was the only one, because a madness came over Dublin city: we don't fare well in snow.  We all had wildness in our faces and moved about, slipping and sliding with spiritual clubs in hand, generally acting like grappling elemental creatures on a slow downslide...literally and figuratively.  And -  one-hundred percent true and no exaggeration - on Christmas Eve that year I saw real fists fly over a parking space at our local shops...the two individuals involved seemed to have lost the point that they were likely to meet each other again, probably once a week at least, for pretty much the rest of their lives (unless their wives and children were prepared to up sticks, and move houses, jobs and schools to save their faces)(which at the time they seemed so intent on smashing up in any case)

"You know what you can do with your peace and goodwill to all men...?!"  

I thought it was kind of funny, even though at that point I myself was tortuously making my way home, crammed shopping bags strung over arms and feeding street railings into my hands in order to stay upright on the packed ice..  As we don't generally get much snow anytime,  there's no tradition whatsoever of any obligation to clear pavements.  I was also possibly feeling fairly smug that for once I had everything done...

And while I'm on that theme...

"Have you got everything done?"  

"Are you all set?" 

Ask me either of those at the wrong time on the wrong day, and who knows what I might be capable of doing myself...

Funny ole time alright!  What are YOU lookin' at?

HUGE

Franziska

By Galina Carroll in Rowan Felted Tweed

I opted not to knit the 45cm collar, and those are purple dots every 4th stitch on every 4th row throughout the rust section. Just so you know.

Last May illness struck our family but mercifully it turned out that we were only in the throes of one of life’s stunts of perspective, as opposed to out-and-out tragedy. Meaning that what initially had seemed bad turned good, and time, freedom and health suddenly took star billing.  We set a goal to make a trip to London, all going well, to see the RSC's Wolf Hall & Bring Up The Bodies.  And that's how we ended up in sweltering, steaming London in August with a few additional objectives (other than theatre) to get through too. And it's also why I ran - in blazing sun through scores of ambling shoppers - the full length of Regent Street to squeeze in a fly-by of the autumn colours in the Rowan section of Liberty's.

And even if I'd walked in cool as a breeze with nothing else on my mind, on such a day I'd have found it hard to think about winter.... but to say I wasn't cool, and I was struggling to convey what I wanted are understatements.  So Carole simply took over, and pin-pointed colours to which (between gasps) I appeared to respond well.  Then she observed that she and all her colleagues were all massively enjoying knitting Franziska...

"Good enough for me", I said, fanning myself with a theatre programme. - "That's the one I want to try too".

... and gradually a plan began to emerge.

 She advised me to stick to size S, and at the time I was so confused that that seemed reasonable. But when I started to knit, S seemed extraordinarily  optimistic.. 

Now I'm beginning to wish I had, because I did XL instead and it could definitely give a Clint Eastwood poncho a run for its money... I feel like I've fallen into the Land of Lilliput - I'm experiencing a lot of confusion about sizing these days... 

Hum, haw...

On the other hand it’s clearly intended to be monumentally large and the fabric and yarn are fine…

... haven’t decided yet... too soon, too sore...

Yesterday, with an end finally in sight, I cast off the last stitch and handed over to the ever wonderful Milla of The Stitch Shop to sew up.  

Today...

1. Even typing hurts my neck

2. No way will I get my mother's scarf finished on time for Christmas....   

3. Maybe if I wash my hair I'll be better disposed

But.... when the dust settles on 2014 at the very least, Franziska is likely to make me contemplate just how well things turned out this year.  

                       *                                                    *                                                            *

One day old and growing on me (arf)!  

But really - it is!