Weddings and Hats!

My dear friend P is getting married in a couple of weeks and this has prompted a flurry of creative activity and ideas. I like to use these special events to create something memorable and unique for the occasion. Besides, the idea of paying good money for something you only wear once seems to be a flagrant waste of funds which could be channelled towards increasing one's stash (because you're worth it! Read this!).

One of the first things I made in my young knitting career was for my good friend Jon's wedding last May. It was based on this in the first Rowan magazine I bought.

But this is what I ended up creating:

Let me first explain that it was a cold, windly May afternoon and the photo captures a strong gust of wind almost blowing off my satin pashmina - hence the gormless, dorky expression. I did look the picture of composed elegance (see left) for most of the lovely ceremony - honest!

For P's wedding, I'm thinking of making a plum red beret based on Knitandtonic's Le Slouch jazzed up with some beads and sequins, perhaps with an eyelet row at the bottom of the ribbing to thread some ribbon or velvet for a flapper look. Hmmm,.... might have to check out the Bead Shop on Beak street as yesterday's hunt at Liberty's was slightly disappointing.

Rooneys on Snow!

Nothing clears your head better than a mountain holiday. It must be the combination of fresh air and the demented act of hurling yourself down steep slopes that makes you feel so darn good to be alive. We were fortunate enough to have 4 days of heavenly snow followed by 2 final days of glorious sunshine. I'm also happy to report that Gruff's caught the snowboarding bug and got the hang of the whole turning thing really quickly. By day 5, he was looney enough to be doing little jumps with me.... It's one of the things I love about snowboarding, you just have to throw caution to the wind and go for it. You feel exhilarated, thrilled and you get wrapped up for days in those delicious feelings. Maybe it's the purity of the white snow or the sugar-coated green conifers that gives you that high. I always come back from these holidays feeling changed, transformed, empowered and elevated with a mysterious & quiet force.

Did almost have a VERY bad injury though, was tightening up my bindings and dislocated my thumb! Yes, it snapped back in a truely hideous manner but cool as anything, taking it all in my stride despite the unspeakable pain - I just popped my thumb back and wriggled it about. I was that determined to board that not even a broken thumb was going to stop me. It was blue for a couple of days but contrary to my worries, I could still knit which meant that it wasn't a debilitating injury. Phew, I say!

The naming of colors

Today's post is prompted by some magnificent collisions of colour that I witnessed on the tube this morning. A bright fruschia wrap casually drapped on a lady was lodged next to a brilliant turquoise on another fellow commuter. One rarely sees such vibrant splashes of colour in the dull, grey expanse of city workers in the morning rush. There was an inspired combination of maroon on beige, vermillion and grey and orange on brown (damn, where's my bloody camera when you need one!)

I then remembered a young temp at a previous firm who was amassing booze money over the summer holidays for his next term at Cambridge. Young boffin had a habit of sending emails in Latin (??!!) and endeared himself to no one by constantly correcting their grammar and punctuation which only served to make us feel like naughty schoolchildren. (How cheeky, honestly young people these days have no tact!). But young boffin was clearly quite intelligent and would someday join the legion of crusty academics coccooned off another planet. He told me that he wanted to do a Phd on Modern Languages and went on to explain his idea for his dissertation which would examine how different cultures with their different languages develope their own terms of reference to describe colour. Of course, whilst boffin was going off in a mini-lecture, I drifted off hardly listening much like most of my time at college.

But today, I was struck by how young boffin had an interesting point. The word 'blue' doesn't just describe a visual shade of pigment but also a state of being low. Black is synonymous with evil, white with purity and good, green with envy... and I remember one of my most heated arguements with Gruff was over colour. I insisted something was blue and he was convinced it was green... i kid you not, this debate went on for hours and even spilled over into the next day.

Me: 'It's so blue, it can't be anything else!'

Gruff: 'That's not blue, it's definitely green!'

Me: 'You must be blind then because it's blue'

Gruff: 'It's green, anyone can see that...!' (you get the picture and yes, perhaps Gruff & I should get out a bit more)

I also remember my grandfather's funeral when an aunt who was already disliked by the whole clan had the gumption to wear red - a colour symbolising celebration and joy. More howls of weeping and consternation followed and said aunt became further ostracised. Funny how colour can evoke such strong passions.

Don't know about you, but I'm off to study the colour wheel now!

My fluffy contribution to high couture

Those of you at K's & P's will know that I was busy knitting some fluffy mohair hats for my friend Sara's final year project. She did knitwear for her MA in Fashion at Saint Martin's. Much to everyone's dismay, she wasn't selected for the cat-walk show despite having worked so hard these last 9 stressful months. Anyway, I saw the ones that were selected and they were pretty insipid and unimaginative. Ludicrously sculptured outfits that a Guardian journalist called the 'Zoolander' look. Whilst I'm not into bling myself, I thought Sara's idea of studding knitwear was ingenious and a bold way of updating the dowdy image that knitwear generally has.

These terrible photos were taken at her exhibition recently and what they fail to capture is the hours of painstaking, finger-aching work that went into placing each and every stud in those intricate patterns resembling intarsia.

Sara got a pretty good spot in the exhibition compared to some poor students who were stuck in a grotty corner but it was sad to see these beautiful garments just hanging limply when they deserved to be displayed in all their gorgeous dimensions.

Don't those fluffy hats look sweet? (Ahem!) Some of them got studded too which made them look pretty gangsta. Now THAT's something you don't usually find in the woolly world of knitwear.

p.s. speaking of 'gangsta' and opposites, I saw Pete Docherty this morning on my way to work and he looked like a right old pasty, weedy, indie-boy.

15% off - Bah!

One bloody week - my stupid, dumbass attempt to be pious and refrain from indulgent, sinful, yarn buying lasted 7 days. All because it was 15% off and I was weak.

I've managed to go into Liberty's and not buy any yarn for the last few weeks before our K's & P's at Leon. But it must have been the free wine coupled with the combined efforts of Flibbertygibbet & Caroline sitting on my shoulder and whispering encouragement that pushed me over the edge. Once the beast was unleashed, I splurged and gave my card a good spanking. So to atone, I hereby confess that yesterday at Liberty's I, Knitterrooney bought;

- some tiny sock dpns
- the Rowan Studio 1 book (which was the Delilah that emasculated me) because I then had to buy
- 5 balls of Kidsilk Haze and 2 balls of Felted Tweed for 2 of the patterns.

and once those were in my basket, I found myself picking up 4 balls of RYC Cashsoft Baby Alapaca for some cabley socks I have in mind. In my defence, I did actually put some yarn back in order to limit the financial freefall, the damage could have been a LOT worse.

I feel quite relieved & relaxed now - I was getting hot and flustered, my heart was palpitating wildly, my palms were getting damp and I could feel the beads of sweat forming on my forehead as I stood in Liberty's battling my yarn demon. Okay, so in this instance I succumbed to my darker desires but if there are lessons to be learnt from this whole debacle - it is that you must embrace the inner you and not embark on flighting worthless battles,... I feel humbled and enlightened by the experience (although my stash has got heavier - heh heh!) and next year, I'll stay clear of any knitting related abstinences which has proved impossible and just vow to be nicer to pensioners, let them have my hard-fought seat on the tube or something similarly challenging. Hee hee ...

(I'm chuffed to bits now just thinking about the knitting goodness to come! I'm so glad I listened to Fibbertygibbert and Caroline's wise words of support. Oh, how I've suffered this past week!)

Lent and Cats

The Big Blanket project which I blogged about here was initially going to be this - i loved the geometric squares and all the countless colour permutations. What dampened my enthusaism somewhat was the prospect of sewing up all those darn squares of which there would be many. And THEN, I saw this and the happy, cheery colours convinced me that it'd be a lot simpler and stress-free as no sewing up is involved. The only small, snag in my grand masterplan is that I can't actually crotchet. Yes, yet another one of my loony ideas - i think I live in denial that I have a proper, grown-up job and that I need sleep to function properly in life. At yesterday's K's and P's, I discovered that there is a whole rippled crotchet blanket craze going on in blogsphere. It is really comforting to know that there are others out there who are similarly obsessed and preoccupied with the project. It also bodes well that it's a guaranteed stashbuster project which ties in nicely with me giving up yarn buying for Lent. My last purchase yesterday was for this project which got delivered here at work a few hours ago. Hoorah! I was just sitting here at my desk, lost in thought about my knitting and yarn fixation and then by magic it materialised before my very eyes. (Great, speedy service online shop! - I'm very impressed). If I wasn't caught up in my woolly thoughts almost all of the time, I'd be half inclined to believe I possess special yarn-summoning powers. (Hah! Jedis eat your heart out). Gruff has learnt to recognise the glazed, thoughtful expression that comes over when I'm listening to him talking about work, music, sockets. He knows that in secret I'm dreaming about yarn, patterns, books, projects and that I could happily spend hours unravelling these delightful thoughts. When he confronts me in exasperation - 'you're thinking about your knitting!' I just have to sheepishly concur. I think Gruff should start a victim's support group perhaps called 'Partners of Yarn Addicts Anonymous' - they could all sit around drinking tea and sharing biscuits whilst wiping away the odd tear saying sadly to each other; 'She used to be normal - what's happened to us? The floor is strewn with needles and I found some bags of yarn stashed in the car boot/under the bed/in the garage.' They'll then all discuss these alarming tendencies and come to the conclusion that their partners are slowly turning into cats. Meow.

Midweek blues

Finished my pair of Fetching over the weekend - my fastest ever knitted item yet and one that wasn't driven by a dead-line. I normally throw myself into knitting overdrive to finish a project because i'm meeting the person in 5/3/1 hours time and it MUST be ready otherwise it'll be summer when they finally get their woolly gloves/scarf/hat.

Fetching was such a joy to make as the exhilaration of doing the 'cabley thing' just got me on a roll. I'm trying my best to temper this new obsession because it might just wear me out and I'll quickly reach saturation point. It's happened with the Knucks - having now made 4 (2 of which were back to back), I must confess that the prospect of making yet another pair fills me with a little dread. I was so thrilled with the pattern that yarn for 2 more Knucks have already been bought,... oh dear, perhaps I should find some other use for the felted tweed. Hmmmm,.... in the meantime, I've given myself a bit of a break from gloves with a baby beret hat as a surprise 'Thank you' present. I'm making it with DB Pure Cotton in pink which is a welcome change from the blue, blokey coloured stuff I've been making of late.

But speaking of the blues, I was saddened to read about this. So much of it seems driven by simple economics yet the long term reprecussions of gender demographics and the intrinsic devaluing of a person's life just makes me feel so angry and impotent. What makes it aggravating is that there are a whole host of contributing factors and no easy solution is in sight when it's a result of a firmly entrenched, pernicious cultural belief. Midweek blues indeed.

Goodness Cables Me...

Have been struck by the cable virus - my thoughts have been twisting and spiraling around a pair of grey fingerless gloves I'm knitting. Started on my first cable with some trepidation at this Wednesday's K's & P's and it is so addictive! Will try to post some photos soon although I still haven't really got the hang of my new digital camera which continues to produce fuzzy photos - the fact that I've got shakey hands reminiscent of an ex-junkie has obviously got nothing to do with it. Hmmm, maybe I should cut down on my tea and sugar intake.

The other exciting event this week has been rediscovering the joys of cinnamon (the word istelf sounds so yummy, cinnammmmmmmmmmon). It's a crucial component of my morning porridge but last night, my obssesion with it went one stage further. I sprinkled a little bit in some fried onions and potatoes and I kid you not, it was yummy-licious.

Funny how my 2 favourite things this week both start with C - there's also the double whammy of the Chocolate Cake we had at Wood's birthday on Saturday - yum, yum! Unfortunately, all this goodness invariably brings me unto the nastiness in my life which also start with C. Yup, it's the CA-LOR-IES and Cross-trainer,... booooo, hissss!!

But back to cables (see how the subject keeps coiling back?), I can't wait to finish the gloves so that I can perhaps start on this or this! My cabley ambition clearly knows no bounds.

Kicking back!

The movie was fantastic plus it featured some kick-ass knitting to boot. As Pip's declaring his love and pouring his heart out to Estella - she is calmly knitting a sock next to the evil, wretched Miss Havesham, her needles flashing as she tells him she's marrying someone else. The small tiny gestures signalling how she's pierced and wounded his heart repetitively through the years. Must go back to the book to check if it was Dicken's idea (Knitting features in 'A Tale of 2 cities' that I know). What does that say about us knitters I wonder - we're femme fatales moulded to break men's hearts? Cool ice queens with the potential for good and light? In the 'Happily ever after' between Pip and Estella, I imagine her knitting and churning out socks and jumpers for Pip, the good old Joe Gargery and kind Biddy in contented marital bliss. (My eagle eyes also spotted the scarf that young Pip wears later reappearing around Herbet Pocket's neck... hmmmm, looked like a double-ribbed, worsted yarn CO 25 perhaps?)

But I can finally breathe now that all the tat is off the shop shelves and obscenely expensive dead roses aren't being sold on street corners. Funnily enough, there was one V. Day that actually did involve continuous projectile vomitting on my part. I'd long suppressed the memory just simply because it was so embarassing. (There's a great blog on Valentine's Day disasters).

My traumatic experience occured some years back when I should have known better - went with my shady boyfriend to a top-notch restaurant owned by a celebrity chef (all the alarm bells should have been ringing by then). We'd left it a bit late and therefore could only get an early table which meant we had to be done by half-9. The meal was so-so, far too over-priced for what it was and packed with couples trying to be intimate in what was esstially a canteen. Pretentious, urban chic trying to be coolly romantic - that description befitted the eatery and our relationship.

What ensued when we got back to my flat was the ultimate barf-o-rama, an orgy of puke - I chundered as I had never chundered before or thought humanly possible. At one point I thought my entire being was going to get flsuhed away - I was staring death in the face as I clung to the rim of my toilet bowl, peering down its watery, smelly depths with my glazed eyes. Each time my 'lover' tried to look at me to tell me how special he thought I was, I had to run to the toilet to empty my guts. It happened about 20 times the whole evening.... I think my body was wholeheartedly rejecting the whole tackiness of the evening's proceedings and was nauseated to the core.

Needless to say, that 'relationship' did not last - I'd always thought there was something insincere and shifty about the guy anyway but I'd been thrown off track with his oily charms. The moral of the story is to stick to nice and simple and ignore all the pressures to declare your love - it ain't no one else's business!

Amazing Grace

Had a cultural binge which started on Friday all the way through to Saturday evening. Even managed to squeeze in a visit to a gallery and Bikram yoga in between. As I was walking from Bikram to the gallery, all I could think about was the grace of the previous night's dancers and how my name means Graceful, my full name being 'Graceful one of the family'. I'd always thought it was pretty naff and never bothered to invest it with much thought. But this weekend, I really pondered its significance (or lack of) in my life, how my parents must have agonised about the choice of name and how perhaps I should redirected my life towards living gracefully - specifically not pigging out so much, pulling so many childish & silly faces and generally being more disciplined. How I'd like to have more grace and poise and how giving grace and being thankful would make me less dissatisfied with life.

I thought about an aunt of mine who was also called Grace and how that word is so linked with the 'Hail Mary' (ies) that people recite verbatim. (Learnt once in poetry class that the last word in a line of a poem is always the most magnified).

Then, eerily enough at the exhibition, as if to cement this recurring thought in my mind - one of the rooms contained footage of a little old biddy singing 'Amazing Grace' on loop in a wispy voice. It was just far too much, every time the song played, I seemed to hear the words afresh discovering a new emphasis each time. It's one of those songs you've always known all your life but it was almost as if I was actually listening to it for the first time- 'Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound (??) that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see. A pretty simple ditty with an obvious choice of sensory words to rhyme with each other but it also made it very human and visceral - the song is also of course loaded with significance as a paen to slavery and suffering that promises redemption, enlightenment. Hmm, definitely food (chocolate) for thought.

On a another note, i've been sickened by all the crass, distasteful displays in shops cashing in for V. day. - it's enough to induce projectile vomitting. Do these marketing men actually think that heart-shaped bears in vermillion red somehow reflects the state of romance or is an appropriate token and sign of one's affections?? Do they all think that the combined waft of gorgonzola cheese encapsulated in their stupid teddys will elevate us to a higher state of ecstacy? Any alien descending upon earth right now would think that all humans were infantile retards with purile fantasies. I know it shouldn't make me so angry but it just smacks of how people have such limited imaginations and how they're high-jacked emotionally.

And before you wonder, no - i'm not single but if I were, i'd hope that sheer tackiness of the whole affair would make me choose a lifetime of celibacy rather than such obvious and contrived gestures. In fact, if I get a Huggy Bear from Gruff, I will tear it apart from seam to seam and yank out the stuffing to shove it up his jaxxy.

Ok - tirade over,.... one day I will learn how to rant gracefully. I'm honestly not a bunny boiler ... hee hee. (Man, that just makes me sound even more deranged!)

First photos - hooray!

Made this little Kimono Top from a 'Quicknits' book bought off Amazon. A bit of an impulse buy but it was a case of yarn greed - and my eyes being too big for my.. err.. stash? Also has some yarn that I bought from Loop on a whim when I had delusion about making a big blanket. Notice a trend here? Anyway, I know the top looks a bit like a small straightjacket but my nephew Alex is very little with long ape-like arms so this will definitely fit. Plus, the straightjacket functionality might come in handy when he's being particularly naughty - which is more often than not! Made a few adjustments to the fastenings because I couldn't be arsed to make 6 Icords plus naughty Alex squirms and wiggles whenever you try to dress him so tying up 3 cord-like things will be next to impossible. Not sure what the consensus is with toggles and babies but I thought they'd be much more practical and easy to fasten.




The 2-coloured scarf was inspired by one I saw at The National. Kept staring at this lady's neck and was itching to ask her if she could take it off so that I could examine its construction more closely. Thankfully, restraint was exercised on my part but this is the result - a present for my friend Kartini. I like the fact that she can choose to change the way she wears it from day to day and according to the whims of how she feels that day - optimistic and looking forward to spring (limey) or warm and flushed with life (pinky)?. I know that it if it were me, I'd be racked with indecision every single day so it's good that I haven't got one of these (must confess though that I was sorely tempted to make one for myself!).

Now that I can load on photos - i'll have much more to share - bring on the Ks and Ps I say!!

p.s. also found a long lost friend - Lisa who runs the divine U-Handbag! I met Alan and her on a idyllic, remote, diving island in Indonesia when I was on my year out. Bumped into her last year then promptly lost touch again. But I was looking at some comments on a crafting blog last week and chanced upon her again - I love the little moments of serendipity that Life throws up.

Stringfellows

Haven't been blogging much about my knitting lately so here goes;

My 'Beer & Duck' Knucks were finally completed - all I needed to do was sew the lettering on but I had too many UFOs on the go. Plus I had to frog Gruff's hat as it was too fluffy for his liking although I still think that it made him look ultra sweet and adorable, anyhoo the point was to make something he would actually wear so it was reworked over the weekend and now has a grey stripe on it - Gruff has a thing for stripes, add in that and he'll wear it. The fluff in his first hat was caused by the mixture of kidsilk haze with the RYC soft tweed - that's now been used in my fluffy legwarmers which were inspired by Sarah hats.

Lost my big darning needle over the weekend whilst finishing Alex's kimono top - it's in the bed somewhere as I had a very lazy, lie-in blissfully reading and knitting in bed. So I HAD to pop into Liberty's to get a replacement and picked up some striped sock yarn inspired by Gail and some more Felted Tweed to start on another pair of Knucks. I looove Felted Tweed, it's so nice and soft to knit with plus I've promised Sara a woolly gift, hers are going to say 'Snow Babe' on them. (Thanks to Gail, I've learnt how to put links in - hooray!)

I have also joined a gym!!! Having ranted and raved in the past about how they're for sad-masochists, I've finally relented due to a growing necessity. Although it's not actually near the flat or work it is kind of on my way home if I take a detour. The main thing that swung it for me was the 'no joining fee or mandatory 12 month contract' promise. What it lacks in convenience it more than makes up for with the great view of the Houses of Parliament - a deciding factor obviously besides the state of the changing rooms or equipment. Have a look!

On the entertainment front - it was Nigel's birthday so we went to the Bavarian Beerhouse and THEN ended up in a strip joint! My first ever time, it was also one of the seediest, according to our guide. It was Gruff's first time too but ladies get in free - (special discount - i like it) here's an email account to P about the night;

'went to my first strip-joint yesterday (it was Nigel's birthday and we all got very drunk - I'm still a little bit hungover). Anyway, I take it that you've never been to one so this is what happens (in a nutshell) - nice ladies old and young go round with a collection - they're obviously a little poor because their undies have gotten quite tatty and skimpy. They then show you how cold they'd get if they were naked and how they'd need to rub themselves warm with the help of some poles. You then donate some more money so that they can buy some decent coverings. Gruff got told off by some ladies because the only loose change (har, har) he had on him were coppers, it obviously goes against Strip-joint etiquette. Useful information to know when you go there for your stag-do!'

P doesn't fancy ladies so I doubt he will ever have to experience the poles. I told Gruff that if I ever had a hen-do, it'll be guys in various types of jumpers, maybe some woolly Y-fronts with exotic yarn wrapped around their bodies, they'd have to twirl around to unravel it and perhaps cavort around huge giant knitting needles - maypole dancing styley.... I think it would go down well just on the novelty factor, I could call it 'Tingsters Stringfellows'? Genius!

6 weird facts about me

I have been tagged by Helen – (thanks!) – now my devoted readers will realise what a complete loon I am. I did actually think of a couple more than 6 but had to cancel out some that should just remain confidential. So, here goes;

1. When I was little, I’d watch old black & white movies on our tv and somehow came to the private conclusion that colour didn’t exist in the world before the 1950’s. I clung to this belief for many years and finally shared my theory with Kim, my sister when I was 9. She promptly laughed in my face and told everyone we knew which made me look like a complete idiot – thanks sis, love you too.

2. I was born with a little hump-like thing on my back. My poor mother, she must have thought she’d given birth to Satan’s child. I can’t in my wildest dreams imagine the pain she must have been through. What must she have thought at the end of a hell-ish 23 hour ordeal when she looked down at this deformed, bloody crying mess of a creature. The hump-like thing went quite quickly and my parents have managed to get over their suspicions, I think.

3. At the grand old age of 10, I decided that all I wanted from life was to have a never ending supply of my 2 all-time favourite things - books and Tropicana Orange juice. Nothing else was necessary for me to be happy and content – I was a simple child.

4. I sometimes sleep with my eyes half-open – I’ve never seen it myself (obviously) but I know it has freaked some people out. They either think I’m awake and try to have conversations with me or according to some others, I look like a corpse.

5. I went to a convent school, was dragged off to temples by relatives when I was little, briefly went to a Methodist Church on Sundays and even joined the youth fellowship. Luckily, I’ve managed to escape the clutches of organised religion relatively unscathed although I reckon a little of the Catholic guilt thing has rubbed off on me.

6. I would secretly like to live inside a man’s body for 24 hours. Before my feminist sisters out there chastise me, I want to make it clear that it is purely out of curiosity – to experience urinating standing up and having a tumescent penis, I do actually enjoy being a woman.

I have no one to tag unless I can somehow re-tag other people??? Is that allowed in tagging universe?

1 down - 33 to go

Hurrah, Sarah was pleased with her fluffy hats and these were delivered on saturday. It was such a relief that I managed to meet this deadline even though it meant a lot of intense knitting whilst hanging out with the girls on Friday and being teetotal. I've got my fingers crossed for her assesment today, I really hope she makes the show - plus my hats will get a little strutting on the catwalk which would be wicked. It was actually really fun being involved in her little crafting club - there were about 6 people in different parts of her flat busy with either sewing, studding or painting. I also got to watch the first 2 episodes of the new 24 and Gruff got to watch the Simpsons which made him very happy.

So, that's now done and dusted which means that I can get on with finishing off some projects that have been loitering around like Asbo-ed hoodies.

Except for the fact that I've started a fixation with 2 new projects - a pair of fluffy greyish-blue legwarmers inspired by the grey January clouds and a sea cushion that I've decided to make out of some Sidar yarn I picked up from John Lewis. It's a lovely shade of blue and turquoise and reminds me of the sea and diving... ahhhhh..... will post some photos soon I hope.

I feel quite smug today if a little achey because I managed to make it to Bikram yoga yesterday. In fact, I feel even more virtuous (if that's possible) because yesterday was supposed to be the most depressing day in the year according to The Guardian and I for one was more than ready to slob out on the futon. I actually got quite a lot done because I had to organise my time properly. The dude Joachim taking the yoga class was the tallest guy I'd even seen who purred out instructions with a slight German accent. 'Fill ze strech, allaw yur baady to rich out. Bee patient, empty out yur mind as you foll in two ze pazicion.' I'm now working out a little timetable for my Extra-Curricular activities and am close to the big decision regarding the torture chambers.. urm, I mean gyms.

Confessions & Contrition

I have been very bad. I think I need professional help.

Whilst surfing the net yesterday, I ended up buying some patterns off the Rowan website then wandered into Liberty's as it was late might Thursday shopping and ended up buying some bargain yarn. So I went into John Lewis during lunch today to find a pattern book for yesterday's yarn and ended up picking up another 10 balls of yarn just because they were on sale. Plus I bought more off the internet after I came back from lunch. I need to seriously stop this insane habit before I bankrupt myself and end up being an homeless bum on the streets because I've been fired from my job as I'm always on the internet blogging, reading other people's blogs, searching for knitting patterns and buying yarn.

I can just see it now, I'll be wheeling my mountain of stash in a Tesco's trolley with bits of colourful yarn twisted in my greasy, unwashed hair. I'll accost random strangers to tell them tales of how I used to be a city professional with a lovely flat in one of the trendiest parts of London. They'll wrinkle their noses and pull their children away from this deranged woolly witch of a woman. Being addicted to recreational drugs has at least some modicum of glamour, I feel so depraved with this yarn habit, can crack be any less addictive??

Sigh,... I need to exercise some self-control in all aspects of my life. I have been eating like there's no tomorrow so much so that my clothes no longer fit me. I don't know if it's a sign of abject misery that I have to console and satiate myself with food or happiness since there's also the theory that being miserable makes you loose your appetite and there is clearly no sign of that in my life. I find these angry, red gashes right across my tummy every evening which cry out, 'Loose the weight, you fat biffer!' It's getting to a point that I find it difficult breathing and it's seriously uncomfortable. I'm also incredibly nervous and paranoid about ripping the seams of my clothes whenever I sit down.

I need to confront this, bite the bullet and either buy an entire new wardrobe or just eat a lot, lot less i.e. no constant snacking on biscuits and chocolate throughout the day. Since the first option is clearly out of order (what? spend money on clothes instead of knitting books/pattern/tools/yarn/books??!!) - I just need to eat less,... and buy less yarn.... and skiv off less,... less, less less.... hmmmm,... I guess I could make a start by getting on with some work! Okay, I'll go make myself a cup of coffee now to perk myself up... and maybe have some chocolate biscuits with it, and THEN I'll get to work....

The Ks & Peas

Frantic flags cling to their poles
and
Clouds rush by into the Grey
horizon.
Gale force winds have slowed our strides
and
Pressing work due last, last week
Glares out at me with hands on hips
and pursed up lips.

Instead,
I read page after page of
screen-based blogs about
Knitting (hurrah for the Phoenix
and Wasabi peas)
and
Books
and other fun mindless things.
Inner discoveries thanks to Myer's Brigs.
(I'm an INFJ for those in the know.)

This latest entry was inspired by
a man who vowed to learn
100 poems off by heart.

The morning's distraction
has therefore been reading
Poems that people like and know.
I like reading poetry,
I like writing poems
I like words that never reach the edge of the page
but hang suspended, kept up by the wind.

It's not my fault my inertia can't be moved
though gale force winds prevail.

Word dreams

I have been on a huge reading over-drive and thereby making a small gnat-strengthed dent on my pile of 'unreads' which currently equates to about 97.67% of the books in my little flat.

(Come to think of it, I'm currently only utilising the same percentage of my stash. I might actually analyse the figures as part of my drive to be more organised - that way, i'll be able to keep track of yarn/book supplies, keep them low like inflation and hence ensure that should the flat ever catch fire, at least the firemen won't have to wrestle through a mountain of burning yarn and books to reach me)

I think I desperately need more sleep - was wide awake after washing my hair and read a few chapters of my Jilly Cooper book, indulgent I know but i need some fun to balance out the woolly grey blanket that is the January skies. This resulted in the most bizarre dreams involving horses, children, the payment of public-school fees and rich, lascivious property developers. Hmmm, I guess they make your dreams so much more interesting. Having (only) a day away from the book, I found myself struggling to remember who was who and how they inter-related. I much prefer getting stuck into a book at long, chunky sittings - finished most of 'Perfume' on the train to Exeter which made all the signal failures and delays vaguely tolerable.

With this influx of literary images and people embedded in my mind, I now find it next to impossible to get my mind switched onto more pressing things at work, issues that I have been sitting on. Important work stuff that I need to sort out! But it's hard to concentrate when my mind drifts off into the land of 'ks' n ps' and I think about what I need to knit next, for whom, in what order, by when etc.

Then flipping over to thinking about what book I want to read next and then what ECA I should do in the coming week, how to fit some swimming practise in and the time-tabling required. Honestly, I just wish real-life wouldn't get in the way of all the fun stuff!!

p.s. watched a programme on growing your own vegetables hosted by a wrinkled and over- enthusiastic witch-like lady and I so long for a garden - life's SO unfair (mentally thumps table)

Dancing fish

Went on a Total Immersion weekend down in Hampton to learn how to swim freestyle - it has changed my life. It focusses on swimming as an artform as opposed to sport and I can't wait to dip into a pool to practise the drills I've learnt. Who would have thought that balance and rotation goes into swimming, that it should be pared down to its bare essentials. We think that thrashing and pullling our way through down to the end of the lane in the fastest, spashiest manner is doing it right but it's about keeping swimming (and life) simple and gliding through with effortless grace and elegance. It's not a competition and learning patience was one of the major points constantly repeated to us. What a revelation and so applicable to everyday life. There was something zen-like about learning to love every stroke you take and embracing the water instead of fighting it. I realise that I need a lot of practise but being able to achieve more fishlike swimming would be just perfect.

Also went to my first ballet class last night and what a joy! The graceful stretches in time to the music was so calming and relaxing. I always knew that i'd enjoy it and Teresa our teacher was the archetypal, strict ballet mistress. I love learning new things and ballet has been one of those things I've thought about doing for the past few years and just never got round to for some crappy reason or another. Ah well, better late than never I guess. I'm secretly hoping that both swimming and ballet will help me with my Quasimodo-esque posture!

This Other Life

Like most of the UK's 30-something, telly-watching populace the prospect of This Life + 10 was simply too intriguing. A symptom of the Friends Reunited syndrome. Yes, the characters still hadn't chaned much and could swear and bitch for England but surely that's the deep-seated fear that we all have within. That life and life lessns have taught us nothing, that we repeat the same mistake unable to escape our own demons and weaknesses. This Life was simply groundbreaking in terms of content and stylistically. I was a little too young to completely identify with the characters then but I suspected that this is how we were headed that we'd be a disaffected, unhappy, navel-gazing lot caught up in the trite minutaie of trivial anxieties. It was never 'real' or edgy (for that 'Shameless' pushes more buttons), you never believed that they were really lawyers, just young people in LA Law style pretending and blagging their way through their jobs much like what we all do. In any case, my post-uni life was more 'Gimme Gimme Gimme' than anything esle!

What followed was 'The Thick of it' - what a sublime show, the blinking politician on Paxman was hilarious. This and Radio 4 makes me happy to pay my license fee if only there was more.

Very excited - have joined the Bookcrossing thing and released 2 books this morning. Am planning on dropping a couple more off and hope this will make me read all the books I've amassed so that I can pass them on. Want to be better at reading the books on my list this year.

Also have to get on with the knitting of mohair hats which will mean all other projects taking a back seat for now.

Full moon over Marble Arch - Hello 2007!!

I cannot believe it is 2007... it's so terrifying that we're 3 years away from 2010 yet numbers become meaningless after a while. It's just that it's so difficult to comprehend that the years flash by in minutes. What happened to 2001? 2003? My mind is completely blank.

Spent yesterday bursing a hangober from hell thanks to Harry at The Macbeth who was more than generous with his drinks. But at least I didn't shlep all the way to Shepherd's Bush and got to spend this New Year's hanging out in my hood. Everyone wanted to do seperate things and compromise wasn't really an option as people (myself included) dug in their heels.

Watched loads of telly yesterday under the duvet, shows that I hadn't watched in almost 20 years. 'Superman' - how tacky and cheesy? Couldn't help but be reminded of Christopher Reeves mortality and untimely death. It was again unfanthomable that Superman was fallible. 'The Great Escape' ( have never watched that from beginning to end but what a totty fest! Steve MacQueen... yum!). Then 'Top 10 wild dives with Tanya Streeter which was pure nirvana to me, I was deeply envious of her free-diving abilities but also that she got to dive in such cool and exotic places AND she swam with manta rays - something I want to do before I die! But her eyes lit up whenever she talked about dives and you could see in her aqua-marine eyes that she's got such a passion for the underwater world and a lot fo respect for its marine inhabitants. Then we got Melvyn Bragg interviewing Damien Hirst in 'The South Bank Show' which was brilliant as usual. Thought DH came across as really bright and unpretentious which was a revelation - Brit Art has never seemed cooler. Plus there were interviews with other artists who ranted against these youngsters at Art school who were more concerned with getting their hair gelled and sculptured than delving into art history. Sigh - we were all young and foolish once and we possessed such arrogance. So much time was wasted and we thought that youth was everlasting... and 2007 has crept up on us.