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.