knitonlybutalso

my new blog home

2006-02-17T00:01:00.000Z

I am trying TypePad as a new home for the Blog , so far I am spending too much time playing with all the pretties - one could be seriously side-tracked. Being a not very inventive type it is still Knitonlybutalso .

progress and a little diversion

2006-02-13T20:34:00.000Z

I am progressing with rambling rose – done the back and one of the roses. I am full of kiwi patriotism - having joined team kiwi, I think I will have to wait until the wekend before I figure out the blog button side of it all.

However today was taken up by a work meeting in Edinburgh. This meant setting off on the 6.35 bus to Glasgow and then a train to Edinburgh for a 10.00 start. So by the return trip for 4.30 I was starting to flag a bit and got to Edinburgh station thinking I would have a bit of shut-eye on the train back to Glasgow.

Anyway, the train was not at the usual platform, so it meant scurrying off to a side area to find Platform 19. A number of us make it at 4.28 and arrive to find the doors firmly shut and people already inside, so we wait for the doors to open, and we wait, and we wait. By 4.39, a little voice comes over the tannoy to inform us that the train would leave for Glasgow at Platform 16 at 4.45. My guess is approximately 500-600 people turn and run towards the usual platform only to find the automatic gates have seized and there are just two guards on duty to check tickets as we go through, this happens just as two fire engines turn up to free the trapped passengers and also as the station staff decide for no apparent reason to evacuate the main concourse causing a totally impassable wedge of people to gather. Somehow I wriggle my way past man-nipples and back packs with trainers strung to them through the barriers and onto the train.

This makes me very happy, despite a very large man then coming and sitting next to me, pinning me into my seat. Everything is sorted I am on the train home. Although I do feel a bit of a sardine and can’t move my arms which means I can't drink my water.

The train fills with people, and a wee voice comes over the announcement system; “This is the delayed 4.45 train for Glasgow, stopping at Haymarket, Linlithgow and Croy” which means limited stops, people bound for Polmost and Falkirk Higher now have to climb past or over people to get off. Once they are off, another little voice comes over the announcement system “This is the delayed 4.45 train for Glasgow, stopping at Polmont and Falkirk Higher” so the people for Haymarket and Linlithgow and Croy get off and the people for Polmont and Falkirk Higher now get back on and climb over ginger haired toddlers screaming and struggle past the small squat old lady with bin bags and nose deep in a Maeve Binchey novel who aint moving no matter what. A new voice now comes over the train announcement system “This is the delayed 4.45 train to Glasgow and we are making limited stops”....

I love Scotrail at times like this, every journey is a potential adventure.

The bus home is such an anticlimax.

I have now begun the first side for rambling rose,which means 15cm of ribbing on 2 and ¼ mm needles. Now I am not in favour of stimulants to help wth sports or any of that sort of thing, but I think either chocolate or a Shingle Peak Sauvignon Blanc is called for at this moment...

Theo and the knit olympics (and still no Dave)

2006-02-07T18:14:00.000Z

"I'm the only rodent kinda guy around here - grrrrrrrrrrr...."

This is possibly not the angel face we thought it was. Now I am not saying he was involved in Daves's disappearance, but every time he goes past Daves empty cage sitting on the living room with its' little door open, he gives the door a firm and thorough nudge shut.

Dave is still missing - we are hoping he is hibernating or semi hibernating or well, y'know something positive....

In the meantime, this is what I will be knitting for the Knit Olympics - I even found some ribbon that might work o.k-ish not that a trip to VV Rouleaux is exactly hell-ish (found whilst I was turning over the stash in a late night Dave hunt). Note it is sealed in its' plastic bag - I feel so virtuous - yarn I can't even touch until kick off, whatever next.

January 29th

2006-01-29T15:22:00.000Z

Oh, we are a house of woe (when are we not – just pick your type). Dave has escaped – this is bad, it has also meant much hand wringing, I guess we were not the benevolent humans we fondly thought ourselves to be otherwise Dave would not have sought freedom. So now not only are we agonising over the well-being and general happiness of Dave, but also our fitness as a hamster-inclusive family (why didn’t we clock any signs that Dave felt so unhappy and unsupported within the family unit?). We are currently divided into two camps – do we completely uproot furniture that has not been shifted in ages in our quest to find Dave? (which to me suggests inadvertently squooshing sleeping Daves’) or do we just leave his little cage on the floor with little Dave treats inside to tempt him back – or at least to keep him well nourished whilst he is on the skedaddle? (thus, a silent reproach to all in the living room) and what if he doesn’t come back? Anyone with hamster psychology experience please let us know.

In the meantime, we have vacuumed more diligently than ever before – so we can better estimate fresh hamster poo (yikes), doing a whole room with the small nozzle attachment thingy to avoid the unspeakable even in a small house is no mean feat. Come back Dave or at least send us a message (even a little pooky message is fine)….

Dave in happier times (at least that's what we thought)...

Apart from that, I have finished Thistle (had to shorten the fringe a little as otherwise I might need a retinue of little helpers to hold the train as I walk…..) and Tree for baby-yet-to-hatch for my fellow Kiwis holed up near Gartacharn. Somehow a missing Dave takes the gloss off things.

New Years Resolutions’ and all that (or should this be called l-cord limbo?)

2006-01-16T14:49:00.000Z

Having spent most of December lying low and feeling pathetic as a result of a flu bug that decided it liked our family and wanted to become one of us, my New Years resolutions are probably going to kick in around February time, or maybe later. But having thought about the year just gone I have to admit with a heavy heart that there are those little projects that got away (for the moment) – Thelma the pink Jaeger Fur bunny is still armless and legless – which is not unusual for those enjoying a thorough Hogmannay, though it is stringing it along a little bit. The pink socks for Madam are still on the first sock (haven’t even turned the heel), the Hisdal Jumper is still mainly a nice neat kit, but more depressing is Thistle….

I fell in love with Thistle a while ago, it is a RYC design and just the ticket for looking lovely as one wanders the grey and windy western Scottish shores at this time of year. Except having collected up lots of Rowan Magpie in Toad (no, not the correct yarn but I LOVE Magpie – why the H*** did they ever discontinue something so near perfect??? Can you hear the cry of pain? Can you? Can you?) from various sources at discounted prices (4 corners of the UK were involved and weirdly they are all the same dyelot – an auspicious sign if ever there was), I have ground to a halt. Over Christmas, I rallied from hibernation and managed to knit the cardigan bit of it in 4 days (sounds so fast doesn’t it, but plain knit and 4.5 mm needles…), however I have now run into l-cord limbo of 72 stitches on the end of each scarfy-thing that need to be cast off over a 62 row of 2 stitch l-cord. It is taking longer than the actual cardigan and despite counting and re-counting each fringey-thing the 62 rows do not all look the same length and I thought my knitting was very regular. Sigh, double sigh and sigh again. But I sooooooo want to be wafting along the pebbly beaches looking mysterious and fabulous in Thistle – I can almost hear the swell of music and everything and the gorgeous stranger with the intense and passionate eyes and …. (oh darn I have a husband, that might put the mysterious stranger off, in fact if the husband doesn’t – he after all may be too engrossed in the shingle as that is what he does for a living, then the three fractious little treasures certainly will, in fact if I meet the mysterious stranger I might just smack him one, Very Hard for taking so jolly long, humph, after all I wasn’t meant for the type of life I am living - but one of being loved and utterly adored and worshipped). The reality of course is that I will look like an unravelling skein fighting to stay upright, and not tripping on the dangly scarfy things could be a challenge in high winds, but a girl can dream.

In fact having worked a fair bit of the scarfy-fringey thing at the end of each trailing bit, I may just look like a knitted squid. This may not be the year for mysterious stranger and I may have to wait a while more.

Anyway, New Years Resolutions so far (I make them up as I need them – that way an inappropriate NYR doesn’t linger into June, perhaps I should call them revolutions as my NYR are kind of the revolving door variety).

To only knit things I love (whether for me or for other people)

To get rid of (by any means) things that are not proving lovable (i.e. by frogging, donating or just plain old “disappearance”) rather than leave them festering in darkened corners and haunting me with reproachful rays that can penetrate wood/glass/plastic bags.

To be a more adventurous knitter – try new shapes, techniques, materials and colours.

To create more of what I knit from scratch.

To appreciate more what I have knit – more padded hangers for knits and general care and even actually thinking about what I wear with them.

To share more at knitting shows (volunteer more time this year than last year – which means I would probably see more Yvonne too!!!)

To “purchase with pride” no more sneaking yarn into the house from the car when everyone has gone to sleep (does anyone else do a 2.00 a.m run to the car in their jim-jams?), or bringing home 1 skein at a time from my work address etc etc, and definitely NEVER again will I stuff yarn into my clothing and smuggle it in that way either.

Swatch.

Let the yarn decide the project – if it says knit at a certain gauge and use particular needles, then I am actually going to do it (most of the time), and if a yarn has enough interest without doing knittable acrobatics I am going to restrain myself and just let the knit develop.

Apart from that I am finally shaking off the sluggishness that had me slumped on the sofa and I am back on the baby clothing kick for my friends the soon-to-be parents that are due to hatch in a month. The Noro Blossom took an evening of enthusiasm (and then I ran out of yarn on the final sleeve) and now can’t decide if I want to sew it up purl or knit side out, the Graphic was coffee breaks at work, the little hat is supposed to be felted on a wing and a prayer (front loading washing machine – means you can’t interrupt mid-cycle, kind of like my husbands thought processes) however it looks kind of baby-head size anyway, as more yarn is coming there will be denim pants and some Rowan things still to knit.

Graphic Baby Sweater

Noro Blossom Baby Sweater

Pick Up Sticks Baby Hat

Dave - the Christmas Hamster for Number 3 Child and Theo

Couldn't resist a photo of Dave, the Christmas hamster who is very lovely but lazy. Theo is getting used to his "step brother" gradually but initially was petrified, however we have placated him with the card board box the cage came in.

The run up to Christmas and knitting do not mix

2005-12-11T21:48:00.000Z

Tis not the season to be jolly – no sirree. I don’t want to carp during the season of happiness (well actually you just know I am going to), but Christmas pays havoc with my stash. I am slowly losing the plot moving yarn, and then parcels into where the yarn was, then moving the yarn again and making way for other parcels, or decanting parcels into collaborative parcels and oh it is all too much, this is eating into valuable knitting time of which I have precious little at the moment. The fact that I haven’t felt inclined to pick up my knitting this weekend despite good intentions is besides the point, if I had felt like knitting I would not have had the time or been able to find the project.

Actually it has brought back memories of when I was young at home and my paternal grandmother would come for Christmas day much to my mother’s ill-suppressed fury. Grannie had gone slightly dotty by the time I was 12 (something to do with it being the only coping mechanism for dealing with my then recently departed, very cantankerous grandfather – vague waftiness completely nulified his Alf-Garnet-type rantings). Anyway at Christmas she would often sit at the head of the table floating in and out of our familial orbit (or at least that is how she played it) admiring the going-ons on board ship, as she was always convinced she was on a cruise when she came to our house (strangely the ship had summer-yellowed lawns with parched leggy petunias in the flower beds and was surrounded by the Port Hills that were bleached with heat and now and then they caught fire – which is odd in the middle of a nameless ocean). Grannie however was not conned – this was a cruise and we were floating gently towards Lord-alone knows where, with the odd swell of the boat brought on by pink fizzy plonk that went with the inappropriately large roast dinner. After admiring the trappings of the cruise “Nice service, but that waitress is a little surly y’know – she keeps giving me the evil eye….” (that would be my fizzing mother - glaring silently at my helpless father pinned between wife and mother duties), she would then get up and for some unknown reason begin to rearrange the furniture…..

I feel very close to my late Grannie with all this bag and knitting shifting.

finally - proof that I am certifiable

2005-12-03T21:40:00.000Z

Well first they sent me the invite to the graduation despite not knowing if the thing-that-must-not-be-mentioned had passed (so raising the question of what had I graduated with). Then they sent me the results of the first two years (I'd had those marks back at the time but I guess it needed confirmation) and then finally I got this!!! O.K now we can mention it, its a M.Sc in Health Informatics, 3 years worth of distance study and after 3 years if you understand the health system and provision/organisation of health information within the NHS then you are deeply deluded.

So now I am certifiable - worthy of a "stifikit" as my daughter would call it, but not yet the proud recipient, so as we are in the holding pen of pre-stifikit-but-worthy-of-one, then the only possible term to apply to such a state is just that - certifiable. I do hope when the stifikit comes in January (?) it is sparkly. I do like glitter and spangly bits, but I fear it will be something tasteful.

Anyway, what does three years hard slog, whilst owner-operating three ravenous offspring, one workaholic husband and a full time job with an organisation that has been "dissolved" as it is officially deemed to have failed-and-is-pulling-itself-apart-from-the-inside-out-give-you???

Well, the evidence suggests from a photo, an office-clearing colleague sent over to me that was taken just prior to starting the course, is approximately 2 clothing sizes and nearly three stone. So naturally I have celebrated the stifikation (sounds just short of deification if you say it like that) with a large family sized bag of maltesers just for me (disgusting). However no one in the Brown household seemed that impressed with the occasion so it is only fair and proper that I kept the Maltesers for myself. Oh o.k they did get a big fancy (reduced price) chocolate cake from Tesco - as wheat sends me orbital after 24 hours - they got that all to themselves.

Funnily enough, I haven't gone on a massive celebratory yarn expedition yet, as I am actually trying a bit of a yarn detox - ie using a bit of what I have as the husband as started making sad noises as he trips over little bags or parcels displaced from their usual hidey holes to make way for Christmassy things for offspring. The only knitting progress to report at the moment is Thelma - a pink Jaeger Fur rabbit so far armless and legless and missing her snazzy sunglasses. A pink fur rabbit needs arms and legs and sunglasses, so guess what I'll be doing this weekend - however as she is being knit on the wing so to speak I have no idea what sort of arms and legs etc to knit, still she needs done with - so this weekend is cut off point for her. Wish me luck.

Tag from froggle rock

2005-11-17T22:55:00.000Z

Well for the past week or so I have been just puddling along. Yvonne tagged me – to join this , and to do this below – so watch out Stephanie !

What is your all time favourite yarn to knit with?
Crumbs - often whichever I am knitting with, at the moment it is Blue Sky Alpaca which I spend more time stroking than knitting, Koigu runs close as does Rowan Kidsilk Haze. I'm deeply fond of 4ply weight as it is great for colour work. Rowan and Jaeger are probably favourite brands for their consistent good quality.

Your favourite needles?
I have a very bent pair of very worn metal pins that are 4mm, they are the first knitting needles I ever bought rather than just filched from my mum (in my teens), I have prettier and more exotic needles of most types but these are like part of me as I have had them so long and they hold (literally) loads of happy knitting memories. They are the perfect length to tuck under your arms and just motor through a project.

The worst thing you've ever knitted?
Cripes - which one!!! Are we talking fashion victim or just disaster knitting??? Maybe a brown jersey for the husband when we were first married is the worst knitting experience, what can I say, it was a hideous shade (chosen by him), totally plain (again chosen by him) and took forever (he is long and skinny). It must have been an act of love. In fashion-victim-terms, again a jersey for him (yeah I know, poor guy whatever did he do to deserve me?) - light grey and navy diamonds with pale grey anchors on navy and navy snowflakes on the light grey, navy and grey two colour rib, knitted when we were engaged for our first Christmas (bearing in mind Christmas in NZ is in summer), I finished it 6.30am on Christmas morning and it was 1987. He still has it but says it is like a sauna to wear, it is truly gruesome to look at....

Your most favourite knit pattern (maybe you don't like wearing it but it was the most fun to knit.) ?
Probably "Icy" from Rowan Magazine Nr 30 - a totally plain Kidsilk Haze Tee-shirt style with long sleeves that is slightly shaped to fit. It is fabulous, I have knitted it in Gooseberry green, Lord Blue and added a hood, adapted it for 4ply cottons when I have done colour work etc etc. It is a pattern I always go back to as it fits really well, and in Kidsilk Haze especially attracts all sorts of non knitters or former knitters over to stroke me. (Can you hear me purr?)

Most valuable knitting technique?
Oooh easy question - Fair Isle!!! Love it and always will.

Best knit book or magazine?
Is there a best book?
I currently like Nicky Epstein as a writer, her designs have a great sense of fun and bring in a lot of people who are fazed by big projects (her flowers and borders for instance) so I have to love her for that if nothing else, other books I treasure - Great Knitted Gifts by Shackleton and Shackleton, isbn1402713231; Handpaint Country by Potter, isbn 1893762033; Knitting in America by Falick, isbn 1885183275 and then of course Gladys Thompson and her book on British Guernsey's/Arans etc (sketchy details - can't find it as it is too deep in the knitting pile), A Shetland Knitter's Notebook by Smith and Bunyan, isbn 0900662735 bought on a trip to Shetland eons ago.

Fave Magazine?
That would be Interweave Knits - gorgeous!!!
Too many listed above? Well, I am a librarian and another love apart from knitting and textiles would have to be the written word.

Favourite knit-a-long?
Haven't done one yet, but am about to join the curly knit thingummy that Yvonne tagged me for - does that count? And have just joined the threadybear knitalong too - hooray for knitalongs.

Favourite knitwear designer?
Kim Hargreaves maybe - great styles, lovely soft colours, Sarah Dallas and also Elizabeth Zimmerman for being outspoken and straight talking - boy does she make me laugh (often, as I am sitting there nodding my head in agreement). Alice Starmore for her passion for fair isle and related work.

The knit item you wear the most (what about a picture of it?)
Either this, which is great for winter - you can carry around your own temperature controlled habitat in a deeply unflattering way (and studied by teams of intrepid zooligists, who may be lost amidst the stitches even now) even better, in spring when you finally peel it off you look so much slimmer....

or this, which makes me look like a little fruity pudding

Which lucky knitter gets this next? ;)
How about the wonderful Stephanie !!!

Apart from this it has been a good week – no ranting, and apart from the almost constant headaches from the weather suddenly going very cold, life has been pretty good. Yvonne sent me a knitterly treat – look yummy cone, and look scrummy skein. They are just lovely - lovely, as number3 said when I unwrapped it “Look someone has sent you your colours…” I will have to choose the perfect projects to match the perfect yarns (thank you, thank you Yvonne ).

Anyway, it has been a puddling kind of week and once you start puddling, it is infectious – you start out doing a little of nuttin and end up doing a whole lotta nuttin and eventually all the nuttins join together into one puddling kind of week involving a very big total nuttin, and anything I have done has involved undoing, so nutting is better than that. Still undoing is cathartic and frogging is not a pain, it is cleansing – as long as I repeat that I’m o.k – it’s cleansing, or if you say it often enough with enough reason behind it – its cleansing - dammit. If I keep thinking of it as a knitting detox and its o.k - almost... It’s not as though I didn’t have good intentions, I started the week with the kind of firebrand zeal I am not usually known for – heck I was going to hurtle through a pair of gloves, insert a zip into a cardigan, finish the first sock for Number3, forge ahead with the Hisdal sweater, apply ribbon to cardigan edges etc etc. However I have been waylaid by sinuses (the old head is so sore with the sudden weather twists and turns it is hard to think straight) and also I am plagued by visual dilemmas. By that I mean, everything I touch this week looks hideous (not hallucinations in case you ask) – I went off to my weaving class after 2 weeks absence and had a sketch of a vase of flowers prepared to work on, however getting home and looking at my yarns – it is so obvious these yarns are not flower yarns they are bright little fishies. The curly whirly scarf is not one shade of Kidsilk haze or the other but somewhere between the two – so it has had to be restarted with the two together, and now it is falling off the needles as there are lots of stitches already, and what if it is solid rather than ethereal froth?

The threadybear knitalong has had the yarn sent away for but now I am in a quandary (doesn’t that word make you think of camels and humps? Dromedary = ?, but Quandary should = a sort of confused camel with extra humps?) over colours.

In the meantime I am restricting myself to “safe” projects – a scarf for Madam, a jersey for a cloth Lion that is 12 years old and loosing its’ fur and belongs to Number1. I figured I had better get that done as 12year olds don’t usually commission their mum and he sidled up to me and asked me to knit a red hoodie for Loosey as she is getting on a bit and feels the cold these days, also she has cataracts and can’t see like she used to so it has to be a bright colour so we can see her. So despite the frog blip that has overcome me, I feel impelled to carry on with “safe” projects until the knitting bug is back on track.

hypertext / url for Guardian not working no matter what - bad

2005-11-04T22:00:00.000Z

the URL / hypertext for the Guardian piece won't seem to work - no matter what. So here it is....

"Tony, 22 is a librarian and member of the Chartered Institute of Library and Information Professionals. After five years working in a children's library, on £23k, he wants new horizons."

Point Nr 3

"Tony's research skills could lead to employment as an NHS librarian. Many hospital trusts have onsite staff libraries to help keep clinicians up to date and boost the professional development of other staff. He would ensure information could be found easily through clear library indexing and catalogue keeping. Tony might also provide regular summaries of clinical journals for medical staff. He can expect at least £25,000 a year"

GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGgggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

I would like to point out apart from being annoyed about my profession as a medical librarian being considered as easy-peasy to enter, I am also thoroughly cheesed off for children's librarians - would this also hold as good advice for NHS librarians jaded by their job trying to enter their line of work? I doubt that a children's library holding interviews for a position would be exactly leaping at my c.v which leans heavily towards what can be ferreted from a database or the teaching of information literacy skills to staff - hmmmm, just can't see that going down well at all. I do not have their child-friendly skills, their knowledge of literature, their patience, their ..... in fact put me amongst chldren other than my own for any length of time and I would undoubtably be a quivering wreck. I would suggest that not only is being a children's librarian a profession, but something more undefinable. And thats just my point I guess, children's librarians have as many skills as we do in the health sector and they are just as finely honed etc, but their skills and my skills are not suitable for some easily transferrable flippant "job swop" scenario written up by the ignorant.

GGGGGGGGGrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

good day / bad day....

2005-11-04T18:14:00.000Z

(gratuitous shot of Theophilus on bookshelves absorbing knowledge through book-fur contact)

I have been having a see-saw of a day today –

1. Friday good
2. too much work to catch up on after being off with a gastric bug bad
3. managed to reclaim money I had paid to buy an essential pharmacology book from Amazon (remarkably good considering the bewildering twists and turns of the arcane Finance system here)
4. one of my favourite young docs has left to go down to Bristol to start training as an anaesthetist – look after Dr Jill down there you hear me! very bad, will miss her
5. managed to track down both the laptop and projector I had left in the large classroom for Wednesday’s lecture despite having to leave in a hurry, exceptionally good and surprising - see number 2
6. emails on lis-medical about Guardian, bad – irritating to see your profession written up by people who know **** all about it and probably also know **** all about being a children’s librarian grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Newspaper is hopefully being bombarded by furious children's librarians too
7. sent off feisty letter to Guardian – so all revved up to deal with rest of day v good, better than caffeine for giving a swish to one's tail, bet they don’t print it...
8. Porters bring big parcels from Amazon for me (easier to get delivered to work rather than home) include an electric fry-pan – hard to come by in UK but ubiquitous back home in NZ, can now replace our 17yr old treasure that is almost ready for burial good
9. but came by bus today – not sure if can get them all onto bus…. bad
10. generator test – normally these happen once a month on a Friday and to be fair they do let you know your information world is about to come crashing down around your ears an hour or so beforehand, however….. I almost got away with generator test – only 3 pages of a 70 page document left to print for a screen-phobic punter (aren’t they all?) when the switch was flipped and all came to a shuddering halt. V bad – printer now has to start all over again as it doesn’t like doing anything else
11. now have to wrestle with printer and to pull out papers it is chewing up like family rabbit, only family rabbit doesn’t make that weird growling, belching sound and spit black dust over your cream tee shirt bad
12. however, this was now lunchtime good
13. and the first time in 3 days I felt like eating anything v good
14. only my taste buds have not quite returned good or bad depending on your opinion of hospital food
15. still, they had tuna and salad left good
16. on return from lunch break I decided the generator test all gone and done with, so I could break into a big juicy literature search for a punter on Blood Transfusion / Clinical Governance and TQM good
17. started printing stuff from Better Blood site (SHOT etc – Serious Hazards of Transfusion in case you ask) and blow me, a second generator test VVVV BAD
18. beetled off to do other chores once sorted it all out and retrieved documents and started printing and came back to find 70 pages of what looks like a totally new language of important stuff when it should have been printing away in English VVVVVVVVVV BAD BAD BAD
19. am now a spitting, fizzing, hissing, claw snaggling viperous librarian that would like to sink fangs into any facilities staff personnel that comes near VVVVVV BAD – doesn’t look pretty and scares the punters, Halloween been and went so no other demonic witches left to support me
20. could now power library computers off me in this state good

Still nearly weekend good?

as it will probably not make it into print this is what I wrote to the Guardian...

Whilst I am thrilled that "Tony" a mere stripling of 22 has managed a salary of £23k in a library (quite some acheivement given wages in this sector are notoriously low) I am somewhat concerned by the careers advice given to him (What else can I do? November 2nd 2005). Point Number 3 suggests a career as an NHS librarian. Now I would not wish to dissuade any librarian from considering a career in the NHS - it afterall is a really rewarding job and offers the constant challenge of keeping up with evidence of best practice, clinical governance, the continual upgrading of our own specialist skills often in solo positions etc etc as well as the joys of living a soap opera as we change tack on political whim. I do however feel that Tony could only be disappointed if he applied for such a position, most librarians within the NHS (or other health related post such as in FE or HE) start with the need for a basic degree, a masters and then professional qualification as well, many of these are then not paid as much as "Tony".

I would also like to warn "Tony" that the advice given that NHS librarians would value his "clear library indexing and catalogue keeping" whilst entirely plausible (we are a very inclusive and welcoming bunch), when it comes to job applicants we are more likely to be looking in other areas; such as the ability to teach critical appraisal skills, clinical knowledge or understanding of local practice developments so as to best match our expertise with what is wanted by other staff.

I hope this helps "Tony" and any other jaded 22 year old librarians out there.

At last something off the needles...

2005-11-01T23:29:00.000Z

Yarn from Mo Bair and Book is Wrap Style by Allen and Budd

(Interweave Press isbn 1931499918, Top Down Capelet by Ann Budd p49)

The first project from Operation SECC (Glasgow) is off the needles...

Anyone who knows me would say I am a pootler, what takes most people minutes can take me eons as I faff about exploring the ins and outs - I always take the long way and thats no different with yarn. I am full of ideas which I start and then I.... well I...... However I have finished the first of what are probably many projects from the SECC, I had to start with the Mo Bair (the alternative would have been to just lay it out on the floor and roll in it, but knitting seemed more productive). Now for me, this is remarkably classy and remarkably quick.

That yarn is positively scrumptious

On a completely unrelated front, this is Theophilus investigating his first Halloween pumpkin, what you can't hear are the awful noises that sounds as though they are involved in heavy duty smooching (in fact Theo can't resist a little nibble).

This is Theo seconds later when he realised he was being watched - note the innocent big eyes as he stands guard right in front of some of the childrens books where he likes to recline (yup on top of them, which doesn't seem that comfortable to me)...

Knitting Quiz

2005-11-01T10:02:00.000Z

You appear to be a Knitting Goddess.
You are constantly giving and are unconcerned with
reward, you simply want others to love knitting
as much as you do. If someone wants to knit
miles of novelty yarns, you are there for them.
If someone wants to learn short row shaping,
you can help. There are no taboos in knitting,
only opportunities to grow. Everyone should
have friend like you around if they want to
learn to knit, and there's a good chance that
your passion has rubbed off on a few others.
http://marniemaclean.com

What Kind of Knitter Are You?
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From one of the lists I'm on, not sure how much of a Goddess I am the rest of the time / or even right now - we have had a weekend of watching each offspring come down with a spectacular 24 gut bug, one by one. Nr.1 Child has it now and is totally forlorn as eating is his reason for existence, poor little chick.

Glasgow...

2005-10-23T22:23:00.000Z

Oh my, what a weekend - I took myself off to the SECC for the Hobbycrafts knees-up (the main stitching one is in March each year) to meet up with the sublime Yvonne again and volunteer for the Knitter-Natter stand where knitters suck people in with siren-call promises of free yarn and lessons in knitting.

So for a show that isn't the main stitching show, and some have slagged off (so I hear) for offering little to the general knitter, here are just a couple of offerings...

T A J Crafts

What you can't see are all the gorgeous books and Alchemy yarns and Kaalund skeins and Lion Brand and needles and buttons and ...... How the heck these people managed to get so much gorgeousness into such a small space I do not know - it was heaven. Yes, I did buy a few little things, ahem (churlish not too, if they have come all this way).

Then in the show there was also Mo Bair.

This photo doesn't do justice to the stand - those skeins were screaming "take me home, take me home, take me..." So naturally I did. The yarns are delectable - the feel and the colours are heavenly, I bought enough of a bobbly, hand dyed, brown-toned mohair to knit a simple wrap from Wrap Style by Allen and Budd (Interweave Press, isbn 1931499918), all I can say is that the yarn is divine.....

Oh, but I was there to work and yep, there was even some of that too (in between the cheese stand and the fruit cordial stand and the roasted nut stand and the curry sauce stand and the home made jams/preserves and ....)

"Knitter - Natter" (Sunday 23rd October)

This of course there is the chance to meet other knitters and (soon to be knitters), it is the volunteer stand, manned by hardened and shameless yarn-junkies. It was a total blast and in there teaching two eager little chicks is the supreme Johanna - Lord alone knows how many people she has now taught to finger knit. During the show she began to finger knit a scarf that grew each day - until the final day it measured over 35m - so if there is a cold snap, Johanna is all set. All I can say to Johanna is "you are the shiniest amongst the most shiny and may you shine on forever..." (Johanna would understand that). And there on the right at the close of show is the finger scarf snaking off into the distance.....

I don't know who these two scary women below are - but they volunteered and I am told (by reliable sources) that you never - and I mean NEVER get between them and a little skein of something from MoBair or TAJ Crafts - NEVER. They are smiling in the photo but two minutes later after some serious fur-flying over those balls of yarn they were both completely bald and sobbing in seperate corners over a ripped ball band.

Oh all right then, this is what I bought - but it was all yarn-rescue stuff. I knew it had to go to a good home so my purchases were an act of yarn-kindness that all knitters would understand. We are talking Alchemy, we are talking Kaalund, we are talking Mo Bair - we are talking hide-it-quick-in-case-the-husband-sees-it (its o.k - he doesn't read my blog).

more...

2005-10-20T21:54:00.000Z

Having been exploring some of the knitting blogs I admire, I came across this Google search on Clementines Shoes... take the first five sites of "your name and needs"...

So taking the first five sites of "Juliet needs" from a Google search I get:

Juliet Needs YOU
(possibly)
Juliet Needs sex!
(wrong, Juliet actually needs more yarn and more space to put it)
Juliet Needs to be in bed
(wrong again, Juliet needs her favourite knitting chair vacated and a nice cup of tea)
Juliet Needs to find the way to release him before the chaos gets out of hand
(Juliet suspects that releasing him, whoever he is, will only add to the chaos - that is pretty sexist but it is a general truism around here)
Juliet Needs court bilingual interpreters
(I do???)

I never knew I had such an exciting life, I just wish I was there when it was all happening.

My husband on the other hand

Trevor Needs to start a RCMB generator fund
Trevor Needs to Pay $2
But Trevor Needs his own thread
Trevor Needs to show how residential density is affected by each of the three options…
Trevor's Needs change and we just change with him

I do quite like this one which just missed out - Trevor Needs this sense of strangeness (that must be me!!!) . I need to have a hunt to find out if we are compatible, but there isn't a lot of common ground there at first glance.....

However if I were being a bit more realistic, the phrase would go "Juliet should"...

Juliet should make an excuse
Juliet should meet him
Juliet should marry
Juliet should not have lied to her parents
Juliet should have replied briskly

all quite possibly true.

And finally, Juliet did... a hoodie in her own design in Kidsilk Haze, which looks a little wierd laid out like that.

held to ransom...

2005-10-13T23:20:00.000Z

Can you read this???

(fresh organic carrots everyday or the PC cable gets it)

Someone has nibbled though the Broadband cable. We are not sure who - but this appeared on the kitchen notice board, suggesting an inside job. The husband has pointed the finger at the rabbit (is that libellous?) although I doubt the rabbit can reach the board and if - as the husband claims, the rabbit is as thick as mud, then it is highly unlikely he would post a ransom note with all the letters selected from The Independent. Personally, I suspect the husband, he is deeply jealous of Theophilus afterall, and this could be a stitch-up. Would a rabbit with a face like this really do such a thing?

It is much more likely to be the husband as he is not competing as successfully as he once did for food around here (something to do with slowing down due to his advanced age – 41). Still it was only the broadband cable (which can be replaced) – it could have been yarn……

I have just realised in the last week or so, that my non-knitting-expectant-fellow-kiwi friend is about 6 months along and all I have knitted is one wee cardigan. What sort of knitting friend does that make me? So all projects have been flung to one side to knit a teddy to add to the cardigan - two things makes it officially a collection as far as I am concerned. Lil' Ted is sitting next to my Ted who is modelling a scarf knitted by my non-knitting sister - isn't that just gorgeous, the colours are like paua shell and I cried when I opened the parcel (and then slept with the scarf under my pillow for the next week - is that too much information?).

Lil' Ted Yarn: Felis trends by Adriafil, shade nr 10.

Socks are GO!

2005-10-11T21:45:00.000Z

The socks are fini! Theophilus is just inspecting - a rabbits' quality approval is all important in our house. I used to curse the fact I had these short fat trotter-like feet, but now having knit a pair I realise I am truly blessed - well at least it means with my very short attention span I actually finish them both. I still however dream of long slender feet that look fabulous in winkle-pickery type shoes and wistfully gaze at the slender gazelle like legs of the daughter, she will never have problems zipping up boots over her pins. Knitting is having a big slow-down this week due to half term and the fact that three treasures are in-house and I am on almost constant kitchen duty as it is raining with typical West of Scotland thoroughness. I am not necessarily feeding the treasures you understand, more guarding the remains of the recent shop run (yesterday). The thing about 12, 11 and 10 years olds is that they are like aphids - they are voracious and nothing much seems to stop them and they hunt either in packs or singly and even at night. I am worn out with fending them away from the cupboards and barricading the 'frig. Despite my valiant efforts I can see another big shop on the way home from work tomorrow. Hell - if you believe it exists, is (at least I reckon) a recently re-organised supermarket where you know its all there and you have to get it in a hurry, but you are absolutely D***ed if you can find it, sigh....

This is the next project....

(Solveig Hisdal - Poetry in Stitches, isbn 8251784352, page 140). Kit from Nordicfibrearts.

This has been sitting in my official knitting pile for a while (that would be the pile the husband knows about). So far as of this evening, I have managed to cast on the 280 stitches on circular 2.5mm and progress as far as the hem and picot edging. I should be finalising a teaching session for Thursday when I take 6 hardy souls for an afternoon of literature searching and critical appraisal. I would far rather teach them knitting. The photo doesn't do the sweater justice - it is totally scrumptious and I will be thinking about it all tomorrow as I head off to a meeting regarding the ins and outs of repeating our joint NHS Trust journal subscriptions at Inverclyde.

autumn

2005-10-03T22:22:00.001Z

Oh autumn should be the season of mellow fruitfulness, however up here in bonny Scotland (at least on the western side) it is usually not. Don’t get me wrong, we have our days of bright clear weather when the place glows with an intensity of stained glass. But really autumn to this neck of the woods means dreich. Which is exactly as it sounds - sort of “dreek” but with a lot of phlegm at the end… “dree-eghkkkkk...” as if you are spitting the soggy drizzly weather out with distaste. Still at the weekend, this was a brief interlude of something bright and sunny, so number three and I headed off to Stirling to do the "messages" – which is what locals call grocery shopping or any other shopping that is necessary as opposed to the other sort. Stirling can be a bit of a grim place down in the city centre – new shopping mall with every chain store and chain-smoking poverty on the streets, but up in the old town there are marvels to be had. For instance Mars Wark – a huge town house up near the castle built in the late 1500s for the Earl of Mar.

Then slightly lower down is the Cowane Hospital – built 1630-40s by John Cowane. I love the inscription above the hospital door – “…for the entertainment of decayed gild breither”. Note, there are no wives of these decayed breither in the gild mentioned – they were probably at home silently fuming as they paired socks or whatever as their menfolk entertained their decaying selves. I think it is proof if ever proof were needed that man-flu has been around a long time. These men are decaying dammit, whilst the women are carrying on as usual. Things just don’t change.

I have finally finished the baby cardigan for my friend the expectant-non-knitter. I have spent a pleasant hour in the kitchen making Fimo buttons but now can’t decide which ones look best, still as I was waiting for the Fimo to bake I found some Rowan Kid Classic in the perfect red for some bootees/socks to add to the outfit. The husband as I was pootling came and peered over my shoulder and sighed – and then inquired as to whether or not I was regressing back to childhood just a little, the answer to that is heck NO! Some of us have never left it (and do not intend to). Even at the ripe old age of 41, I am still surprised each morning when I wake up and realise I am not 8 anymore (or maybe I am inside still).

Finally, I have cast on and even progressed a little with my slouch socks – in winter I get such cold feet that they wake the husband up when I put them on him to thaw them out when I go to bed (and I thought it was a man’s job to provide the warm bod to do this smallest of tasks). So, I have found some nice bright yarn to knit some good thick bed/sofa-slug socks to mooch about in, now this (and the mug of something hot and calorie laden) suggest the nights are finally drawing in. Isn't that the perfect mug for a librarian? No one knows who's body it might be......

rant (just a small one)

2005-09-26T13:15:00.000Z

The husband's mother phoned, this is never a good thing. Some people get on great with their in-laws but the husbands family are not my in-laws - they are not mine, period. She wants me to remind him that it is his sisters birthday and to get him to ring her. I get on even less well with his sister than I do with the rest of his family (something to do with the fact that she cannot stand me as not only did I have the temerity to marry her precious older brother, when none would ever be good enough, but also he seems quite happy to be married to me; and then again it might have something to do with the fact that I am not a hard-bitten gold digger and don't generally judge people before I have ever met them/know anything about them so we have nothing in common). Ooooooh feel the love.

What I do not understand is;

a) in all my husbands 41 years and his sisters 35, maybe he could have learnt to remember her birthday himself?

b) if he really wanted to phone her, does he really need me to help him dial (he has all the fingers necessary)?

c) if the stuck-up little princess really wanted him to give her a phone call now and then, maybe just maybe, she should either call him or send the odd thank-you for presents once in a while?

d) if she really wanted ME to remind him, then maybe she would have remembered my name by now, after nearly 17 years of marriage to her brother.

I have passed the message on but he doesn't seem to have bothered as yet. Don't hold your breath. You'da thought that the husbands mother could have instilled that little chore into the husband as he was growing and not waiting until he was all up and gone to suddenly start trying to get him to bother about his family birthays and such like, by the age of 41 it may be a bit late. Think calm thoughts, think calm thoughts, think calm thoughts, think calm...... Nope not working - too much history there, these must be the only two people in the world that genuinely annoy me. Think happy thoughts, think happy....

weekend

2005-09-25T22:28:00.000Z

Well, its the end of the weekend, and I have been gradually been re-acquainting myself with the poor neglected little garden. It all looks quite pathetic, partly it is the end of summer when everything looks a little raggedy, but also due to the thing-which-must-not-be-mentioned, I have ignored my poor little plants so they all look very unloved. It is interesting to see just what is flourishing and what is looking distinctly sad.

The funny thing about a digital camera (oh yes, new toy!!!), is that anything (I mean anything) can look good - see the dianthus above, it languishes in a pot by the front door looking manky and dusty, but with the macro-thingy on the camera, it is a thing of relative beauty, and the colour looks like a delicious berry pudding.

Then there is this viburnum, it is having a fight with a weigelia and it sticks its branches out and slaps your face if you wander along the path with too many bags of shopping, so that often I think "I must prune that flipping thing", when what it is trying to say is "Look at me, I'm trying to show you my best little flowers to cheer you up, you dumb old biddy".

The cranesbill is fighting underneath a spirea that is full of spiders and looks baked by the summer, you could brush past it, and never notice it at your ankles, what a wonderful colour.

The autumn crocus is in the "I don't know what to do with that corner of the garden" it is full of odds and sods that don't quite belong anywhere else, and the black currants with their heady cats-pee scent means people don't usually linger in that corner to look at anything. The achillea looks rusty and dry amongst the herbs which are in a terrible tangle and need some serious sorting out.

Finally the hydreangea - it is large and shaggy and out of proportion to the other things in that border, but the flowers when you look at them are so pretty - the dleicate shades of lilac in there are exquisite, but for the last couple of months I have been too busy to notice and soon it will be too dark by the time I get home to go out looking.

I have spent the weekend bumbling about, not really managing to acheive much - maybe I am in some sort of recovery phase or maybe it is the sore ear/throat bug that is affecting just the right side. I would quite like some sort of stiff wire brush I could shove right down and scratch the irritation away, thought currently I am settling for irritating the husband by constantly reminding him of the sore ear/throat thing - which makes me feel 10 times better. After all a problem shared is a problem halved and he is used to me.

I am knitting the almost seamless baby cardigan from Elizabeth Zimmermann's "Knitter's Almanac" which has a four row gull pattern repeat. I knitted this for my babies yonks ago, but have now found the prettiest pale tweedy blue to knit it for my friend who is expecting. However, despite the fact that I don't remember any problems knitting it up all those years ago, this time I am slowly going demented - I may end up with a negative cardigan for the poor little mite as I am sure I am frogging more than knitting, this could be like the emperors new cardigan, and only visible to the ultra-discerning. I am desperate to start another project, but I have made a mental promise to myself to get this over and done before I do anything else. Boy, do I make dumb promises...

Tomorrow is a bank holiday in Scotland (yippee), but I am going into work (even more yippee) I need to prepare for the medical students coming for a tour around the hospital the day after so the husband is going to be stuck at home with the three little treasures and no car (oooooooooooh the revenge), I shall be taking the long route home, and he shall be climbing the walls. Hah!!!

Theophilus

2005-09-20T16:44:00.000Z

This is the most handsome rabbit that ever lived...

Now if that isn't the cutest little rabbit you ever did see? He is a total heart throb and he escaped, still he is now back and all is forgvien (at least between me and the rabbit but the husband is still in the doldrums - I blame him for rabbit scurrying off in the first place, suggesting he would go well with carrots and to call him Stu - that sort of thing, I mean what is any sane rabbit to think?..). Anyway, after a couple of days of freedom some people near us in the flats in the converted church found him cowering under a car and took him in. When I went to collect Theophilus, he was sitting in his own room in a massive cage with all the treasures a little rabbit could want - talk about landing in clover.

In the meantime I have been almost unable to knit, I have spent most of my knitting time frogging anything I have managed to get on the needles.

Anyway, Theo is now home and looking quite happy, do rabbits need therapists? I was really worried - after all he is just a baby and not only are there lots of dangers out there with big dogs and cars etc, but he could have got in with the wrong crowd and his life could have gone totally awry, before long he could be hanging out at the rabbity equivalent of the local bus shelter where all the kids in the village (and the surrounding ones) seem to impregnate each other. He could have taken to drinking bottles that are mysteriously wrapped in brown paper bags (where do people get those these days?) and then falling over in the middle of the main street and worst of all smoking all manner of dubious substances (and he has such little lungs).

One of the neighbours after seeing him says he does not look like Martin Kemp, she says quite firmly he is much more Martin Fry from ABC who had a longer and floppier blond fringe. She may be right but he is just not a Martin.

Don't even try to resist, Theophilus knows it is futile, go on, stare into the beautiful bunny eyes, and feel yourself going, going, gone..........................

You are soooooooooo hooked.

the joy of rings

2005-09-17T21:40:00.000Z

Well, I am no longer little miss-billy-no-mates, I have managed to join a ring, this is no mean feat as it involves meddling with the html gubbins on the blog template and my small brain just doesn't respond well to following instructions, especially if there are no pictures (the husband calls it "wilfully thick"). Still, with the wonderful hand-holding of the supreme Heidi-Jane I am now attached to other people (this has erased horrible memories of being in the school playground when I was about 6, when my best friend and neighbour told me I couldn't join in with any games as I was too ugly and too stand in a corner facing away from everyone, which I duly did, I think the thing that bugs me most about that memory is that I did what she said, not her actions). Still thats the nice thing about nearly all librarians - they just don't care, and that's generally true about knitters too.

I even found Heidi-Janes blog (that is such a wonderful name, I am going to obssess over it now for the next week) and all the cute baby knitting, I have a really good friend at work who is expecting her first baby in February (on Waitangi Day), she doesn't knit but loves the look of it (ohhh, she is the best kind of friend to have!!!), so I can knit anything and everything. I had moved beyond the realms of baby stuff (numbers 1,2,3 are 12,11 and 10), but the baby things around these days are so cute - I agree with people who say it is just a shame they are not scaled up. But then who in libraryland could stand the sight of little plump me swishing around the library at work in my knitted Stitch'n'Bitch Nation (isbn 0766135901 pbk) li'l devil pants (page 204). I think I could look so good with a forked tail, but it might scare the punters.

I have now moved from wotsits (small maggoty shaped cheese flavoured "corn snacks", with fluffy orange glow-in-the-dark extra cheesy powdery gunge coating each and every one like a Chernobyl mildew that coat your fingers in a most delicious kind of way and are best eaten at 2.00 am) to Food Doctor Soya Nuts. These are supposed to do one a power of good, and the body could do with a bit of an overhaul after the thing-which-must-not-be-mentioned. I will have to wait and see if they have an effect, if I have funny dreams I am going back to the junk...

the unbearable lightness of handing in the dissertation

2005-09-15T22:06:00.000Z

OOOOOOOOOh I should be such a happy little camper, I have finally finished the thing-which-must-not-be-mentioned, I have sent it off special delivery and I should be soooo.... But I am not, I feel naked and as tho' there is a bit missing (actually, thats a dumb thing to type as my husband would swear there has always been a bit missing). I never thought I would say it, but I do not feel blythe and frolicky or any of that stuff, I feel sad, deflated and orange (too many late-night packets of wotsits, which send me orbital - a very cheap way into space if NASA ever ask you).

Still there are oodles of things I can now concentrate on (yup, I am reduced to just managing to think of one thing at a time after the all-consuming thing-which-must-not-be-mentioned, this must be what it is like to be a man, a certain kind of man) knitting, reading (for pleasure - yikes), gardening, walking, family bonding (hmm -move that one lower down the list) and loosing weight, patchwork...

I shall start tomorrow by feeding the family something wholesome and nutritious and not flung together. What is more, I intend to not-use-chicken, this will be a big shock to the household as for the last few weeks as I have been in the throes of writing up, that is pretty much all they have eaten - chicken and pasta thing or pasta and chicken thing or pasta and chicken and other ends of a bag pasta thing or even chicken and whoops I have almost run out of pasta thing... Just how much chicken can you feed offspring before they grow feathers and start to cluck - some people would call this bad parenting (and who am I to argue, it is not my strongest point I admit) but I like to think of it as an experiment and furthering the bounds of science is a noble thing.

Work is doing my head in (not hard these days), I had a little puppy of a doctor that appearred in the library from somewhere overseas today and he just followed me around in a kind of hopeless way as he asked for this and that and the next thing, finally he wanted to be logged on a computer, which I did. As I got up to walk away, he queried in a tone of suprise "but, now you type..." - how the heck do these guys manage on the wards and why the hell don't they bring their flipping mothers???

Still a good nights sleep and a spot of therapeutic knitting and I can track him down tomorrow and be extraspecially nice to him. This may be making a rod for my own back as sometimes they latch on like a second skin seeing they get such a rough ride every where else, being the bottom of the pile.

how neat is this?

2005-09-12T00:50:00.000Z

Your Brain's Pattern

You have a dreamy mind, full of fancy and fantasy.
You have the ability to stay forever entertained with your thoughts.
People may say you're hard to read, but that's because you're so internally focused.
But when you do share what you're thinking, people are impressed with your imagination.

What Pattern Is Your Brain?

...and my heart went "Ping"

2005-09-12T00:30:00.000Z

Here is a serous question - can you love a rabbit too much??? We have taken proud possession of one rabbit, a dear little sleek mainly black (white tummy, white-ish paws, wispy floppy grey fringe hanging in front of his eyes) rabbit. He is the most wonderful rabbit ever and we've named him Theophilus, he is a Lionhead rabbit and totally darling. So far there is extensive debate as to whether he will be in-door rabbit or outdoor rabbit, I hesitate to call him a "house-rabbit" as that sounds like a dancing rabbit that is out there clubbing until the wee small hours and coming home pished and with all sorts of issues like getting tattoos when he is just too young.

I've used almost a whole roll of film on him (went back to my camera as Number1's camera just wasn't playing ball) and now discovered my battery is flat. This may mean another roll of film and a new battery, still Theophilus is soooo worth it.

The thing-that-must-not-be-mentioned is now in one piece as I have pasted all the chapters together, this means just checking for STOOPID (a programme that seems to have downloaded itself onto my machines at home and work and basically it stands for Special Technical Occurrences Overtly Proving Idiot Drivel, and it seems to run best when I am totally NITSAL - No Idea, Too Soon After Lunch, in case you ask which can last all day ) which translates the usually brilliant into worthless crud, and the more brilliant it is, the worse it ends up.

I am now feeling slightly more hopeful about handing the thing in and turning my attention back to more important things like knitting.

Found

2005-09-07T13:44:00.000Z

Oh, I am a happy woman (it doesn't take much to please me), the results for the dissertation have met with reassurance (phew) so far, and I have found the photos of the knitting I was looking for.

Tess from Rowan Nr30

I have also been rootling around and found the Icy in Kidsilk Haze (see below) from the same Rowan Book, I even found my Patons "Must Have" or should that be "Must-Have-shrunk-whilst-I-was-knitting-it" as it is a close fit, at least I've read that on other blogs too so I guess it isn't me, thats the Bonne Marie ribby shell underneath (must take photos elsewhere in the house - that door is distinctly over-used).

Icy also from Rowan Nr 30

Patons "Must-Have" Cardigan in Rowan Yorkshire Tweed

(shade 347 - Skip)

and

Bonne Marie Burns Ribby Shell in Rowan Calmer

(shade 463 - Calmer)

Unbiased Bag from Knitty (Fall 04)

Himalaya Recycled Silk

Designed by the brilliant Stephanie Shiman - note the daffs happily nodding in the foreground, shows how long ago it was that I was young, carefree and not writing up.

Charlottes Web Shawl in Koigu

And finally proof that I do bond with the children (but only now and then), here is Number3 happily finger-knitting (well not actually happily - just look at that fearsome gaze of one little girl being told it is bed time as soon as her hair has dried)

Floo finger-knitting (and I blame YOU Yvonne!!!)

And finally, proof that we even bond as a family - husband and little critters on enforced summer bike ride along Loch Katrine (can you feel the air of general suffering caused by 30 mile pedal and how Floo at mid-way is slumped by the fence looking distinctly filleted). I have a feeling the famly are going to regret the ending of the dissertation as there could be more of this.

Poor little things, it was over 30 degree heat and they really were NOT keen.

And not a word in this post about knitting...

2005-09-06T12:36:00.000Z

I have done a terrible thing. But motivated by love. The thing-that-is-so-nearly-written-up is really stressing me now (anyone hear nervous whimpering – that’ll be me). I was looking round the other evening to see who was making those weird sounds when one of the children said “But its you, mum”, so I took the day off (to sit at home and word-wrestle and silently stew) which meant I have taken the car in for a service, done the laundry, made the beds and then undertaken a wee trip to Milngavie to visit that supermarket that begins with a T (which they are re-organising as the one starting with an A just down the road is being pulled down and rebuilt and there is no relation to the lack of competition at all), so there I am getting more and more distressed (the results chapter is a killer, trust me) and circling, circling looking for where they have put the olives – a woman on the edge must have her olives. I swear there are people that look like they have been in there since last week still hunting their elusive last items on their shopping lists, but then they have done such logical things when sorting where what goes where – Jelly/custard is now above the frozen cauliflowers. Pickles are right next the chocolate (maybe they’ll move those…just too tempting for anyone pregnant).

So eventually when I come out I am fizzing slightly like an electricity sub-station and take myself off to the pet shop to look at hamsters for Madam for Christmas. I go downstairs to the critters and start looking – oh they are all so sweet. There are the amazing albino chipmunks that look like flying streaks of fluff, gerbils with furry tails, rats with naked tails, guinea pigs and a United Nations of hamsters – Russian and Siberian and whatever else that exist. But then I saw the rabbits, and one in particular. He was sitting in the corner cage and he was exquisite. Dark and glossy and with such a delicious dark thick coat, and most gorgeous of all he had a floppy grey fringe hanging over one eye. The Martin Kemp (Spandau Ballet) of rabbits, now I don’t remember ever being particularly attracted by Martin Kemp at the time, nor have I ever been bitten by the rabbit bug, but the combination…..

We pick the rabbit up Friday once we have sorted his new home, pet therapy is of course a recognised intervention in the health services (check Pub-Med if you don’t believe me), though I am not sure that human therapy (at least the Brown family method) is a recognised intervention for rabbits… The husband is going to have a flakey.

Misery-Me

2005-09-05T19:37:00.000Z

Today a baddddd day, totally hacked off and had a serious yelling at 3 people who DID NOT, repeat DID NOT not leave empty biscuit packet on floor in living room. One has been made to pair socks, one emptying rubbish bin in kitchen and one made to vacuum. Will introduce concept of washing up their own flipping mugs tomorrow. Friend of child number2 is not welcome unless I am about, as am totally p---ed off with his trail of biscuit crumbs/inability to wash hands after toilet - using flimsy excuse the damn kid is a health hazard to restrict access to whenever I am in cheery mood (like bleepin never) probably not nice to say that real reason is he farts and picks skin off his feet and leaves it all over dining table (nice)...

Have long words to put in dissertation but short ones starting with f seem to be the flavour of the day and suit mood better. Have worked out how to download pictures from H's camera - he seems seriously unimpressed with me, can even upload picture to blog profile if you ever want to know (yup I'm good, just looks like global dimming has hit West of Scotland).

Feedback from methodology was that its fine (just spelt lickert wrong - freudian slip). Am trying to think of clever things for results (yes, I have some -in fact I have too flaming many). That just leaves conclusions and introduction and tidy round edges, sigh...

Boss had talk with me today (he has had to fill out a referee form for a job app - do I have any criminal convictions/mental instability etc etc, answer being none that get in the way of the job so far, crazy helps in fact) says he would miss me if I decided to go, he really is a great guy and we rub along really well. I would really miss him.

Am seriously hacked off with state of kitchen, oven on blink and have discovered that doing oven chips under grill not a success and am going to skin next little treasure that stands in front of fridge when I am trying to cull dead things to feed them (not a successful tactic on their part only makes me madder and more determined to poke slippery mushrooms into them). Would like a new kitchen but husband says that it is just fine (never mind defective oven that won't work, frig with door that swings open and big gap at end of bench that swallows teaspoons and houses mega-spiders, and of course the cupboards that are wrong shelf distances so containers with cereal etc only fit in the one cupboard and that is so full it can't hold any more, we won't even mention the plug doesn't fit the sink so washing up is a race against time) he is currently in hiding for a week at a conference somewhere near Vienna? Not actually sure where he is, but unless he comes back with firm offer of kitchen he is not welcome. If can't have new kitchen would settle for new husband.

Am about to go check contents of laundry basket as they have decanted vast quantities from upstairs and anything that can be scratched/flicked will do for tomorrow, may even find enough money for litre of milk if lucky. Number1 has offered to have a bath - think I am supposed to be grateful, am going to wring madams neck if she doesn't stop yabbering at me I do NOT want to know what R did to her at school today or how M said whatever to V and that C isn't talking to K as K smells, and how she can't believe that S would eat...

Need a serious yarn fix but have banned myself from even touching it until the results for the dissertation are sent off.

Look at those poor needles - they'll be gathering dust if left alone any longer.............................

little miss no-willpower

2005-09-03T18:54:00.000Z

Well, I’ve succumbed. I made myself a promise that no new yarn would be bought whilst I was cobbling the dissertation together and would remain calm and focused and sharply honed like an intellectual scythe cutting through the crap in the write-up so far. But that was such a dumb idea and at least I recognised it in time. On the way home last night I accidentally ended up in John Lewis (took quite a detour I can tell you to make this happen but the husband has gone off to Austria for a week of conference about gravel) and bought some Rowan Ribbon Twist which I have no idea what I am going to knit into – maybe I will get all creative once I have handed in the study, but there is enough for a jersey/jacket/binkie. I am deeply impressed with myself – it is a very sophisticated choice for me (normally I caper up and down the zingy bits section like an overgrown child) but this is positively sludge-like in colour and I mean that in a good way. Just to show I haven’t changed spots – I did buy some Rowan Polar in leery pinks etc – but it was so pretty, again I have no idea as to what its going to be.

Also I have no morals - I have borrowed Number1 childs camera but have no idea as to what I am doing with it/to it. I have sort of sussed out the camera bit, but as for the photo editing - well it just isn't playing ball but then it is hard o learn something new when people are breathing down your neck wanting to play runescape.... So the purchases do look kind of dark.

Not to be content with parting with more money than I should I tootled off to Miller Street to check out V V Rouleaux which is now in Glasgow, that was a distraction intervention to keep me out of Costa Coffee and away from food otherwise I would have eaten one of their macaroons which is always a bad idea as 24 hours after eating them (wheat) I go kind of like a hot air balloon inside. Bad, bad idea. I have now got the most gorgeous trims – one for a long sleeve tee (another Icy Tee adaptation??? How many can one woman need), but it's yummy, these little dinky beady thingys would look so perfect around a red kidsilk haze plain knit (oooooh I am seeing the transparency of the knit and the twinkling of the trim and I see it in red as opposed to the one I already have in Gooseberry and the hoodie I adapted from Icy in a deep blue and the one still in my head that was going to be brown and with tiny beads through it...) and then there was this other stuff – perfect for a light shade and light shining through the beads they look like fat summer berries and there was this chenille fringing stuff that looked like purple millipede on a roll and would be so perfect to go around a bulky knit so I wouldn’t have to do fringing and this other fringing (suede) that I have no idea as to what I could do with it that cost over £50 a metre but I want it, want it, want it. And I haven’t even mentioned all the ribbons and gimp and … But best of all the staff in there were so nice and friendly and it was all so glorious and so completely unrelated to what-I-am-supposed-to-be-writing-up-and-almost-cannot-bear-to-mention, I love shops like that – where people are so enthused about what they are doing they talk to you without trying to sell you stuff or else leave you alone to mooch until you need help and then act as though they have all the time in the world whilst you mentally faff over which, what and how much. One of the staff (the guy with dark hair) did a degree in knitting – oooooooooooooooh imagine, studying something you love? Actually I remember the grand passion I had for my topic when I chose it, but now it has the horrible taint like that of a friends choice in boyfriend – I just can’t see the attraction.

(see - just like ribena berries, must figure out the darkness thing)

I have at least written up most the thing-that-cannot-be-mentioned, number2 child was asking me last night how on earth can anyone possibly write 15K words. Actually it is not how someone can write that much, it is more how someone can write that little – how can you put in all that is necessary to cover your bases/make you look like you know what you are supposed to and then chop, chop and chop again. It is the equivalent of knitting a huge pair of bloomers and then whittling them away to a g-string and with a butt as big as mine that just isn’t right.

Woman off the edge

2005-08-30T23:05:00.000Z

Grrrrrrrrrrr, grrrrrrrr oh lordy am I an angry woman these days. It may be because the dissertation write-up is getting to me or it may be working in an officially failing organisation, perhaps it is both. But whatever the reason, I am getting decidedly cranky – take this morning on the way to work for example. I am driving along kind of late to work (as the dissertation requires nightly word mangling in the wee small hours when all in the house have gone to bed) admiring the Scottish countryside as one does (well, it is all so green and pretty) when I get to the little humpy, dumpy, one track stone bridge. I check to see no traffic and begin to mosey my way over, when I get almost half way across this BMW 4WD kind of thingy hurtles up the other side and stops inches – I mean inches from me. Hello – I am already on the bridge, is this woman blind??? So anyway there we are on a single lane bridge and she flicks her shiny yummy-mummy hair in a self important way and motions in a you-go-back-there kind of gesture, this would be a bit difficult as there are three other cars behind me and I don’t necessarily appreciate being wafted by her condescending limp hand movements. I smile (in a friendly kind of way, no teeth bared yet) and shake my head and motion at the 3 cars behind me. She flicks her hair in a slightly more self-important way and then gestures the same gesture, I shake my head. She can’t believe it, here she is, in her big swanky car that could transport a small nation in the back seat on her way to do very important coffee with other women-who-have-had-children-but-have-retained-their-flat-tummies and there is what looks like a troll in a Renault Megane waving and gurning like a complete idiot! I can tell what she’s thinking - doesn’t that peasant person in the other car know that trolls go under bridges and not ON them??? S’anyway she obviously has the most important places to go and I am heading for work, only given the way things are at the moment I am not that keen to get there. So she begins looking cross in a very snotty manner and I think to myself hmmmmmm you’re keen to get where you are going but not so keen as to reverse, and I am not keen to get where I am going, so what’s a little old librarian that looks like a troll with floaty hair to do? Especially as I am an angry, grumpy librarian with hair that would never, just never flick (too floaty), I am not that kind of yummy mummy (I’m only yummy if I have sat on toast or cereal and it is sticking to me) and I have a vendetta (deep rooted jealousy thing) against bimbos that drive huge cars that cost more than many peoples houses along tiny, skinny, little roads where they just don’t fit. By now she is looking distinctly frosty so the limb-waving loony look is obviously not working on her, still I am made of strong stuff (solidified coffee granules in these days of constant study) and start to examine her – I could spend all day just idly imagining her life – big hunky rugger-bugger husband with one syllable name, 3 ballet dancing, dainty, little girls with pretentious names, say Poppy, Floppy and Hoppy (what happens when these kids hit fifty and they are sad and fat in a one bedroom council house and they spend all their days talking to the t.v and drinking vodka – will they hate their delicious yummy-mummy and one syllable-monikered daddy who gave them such silly names that all their lives they have been snickered at by librarians children??? especially as they are names more suited to their pet rabbits, and their lives are just completely ruined, ruined), oh but I am digressing and there is a Labrador and big house and au pair and everything….. But heck, I don’t really want to go to work, I could sit here all day, in fact I would prefer it, just how do I convey this to Madam?

So, then I realise, I have the perfect weapon right next to me in my bag, and so I lean slowly over and withdraw my knitting. I pick the project up just so she can see it through my steering wheel and slowly knit a couple of stitches (well it is 100% alpaca – one does tend to want to savour such gorgeous buttery yarn as one knits it, so mustn’t rush), I glance at her to make sure she can see what I am doing and her face has changed colour slightly. Now I don’t know if she is desperate for her colonic or if she has a deep-seated phobia about knitters but I can see she has definitely changed somehow, so I go back to concentrate on the knitting and do another 10 or so stitches and then look up again.

She gives in – she puts the huge nonsensical chugging beast in reverse and slowly inches back (maybe she didn’t know she had that gear – perhaps she only has to go forwards as other people get out of her way all the time), so I drop the knitting and zip past her with at least 6 cars on my tail.

See – work and study are not good for me, normally I’d have sidled the car into some bushes to get outta the womans way and to make for an easy life, more importantly, knitting is the ultimate weapon and the moral of the story is she who knits, wins and if only all politicians knitted we’d have world peace.

I like to think the experience did the woman some good.

knit projects - proof I don't just knit things that are green

2005-08-30T00:50:00.000Z

I am currently debating an important ethical issue - how soon can a loving mother borrow her son's digital camera if she gave it to him for Christmas? Currently I am using a conventional Pentax Espio 200 but Number1 has a camera that he wanted but just hasn't got interested enough to use. I thought maybe if I figured out how to work it and whatnot I would be doing him a favour, you know there are moral dimensions to this.... although it would save me shooting film and getting it developed and then the good people at Boots sending it back to the labs as they had clearly marked CD on the packet but that just never happened and then having to wait.... However if Number1 child isn't bothered how does that help him? However if it is not going to get used maybe it would be a good thing to pick it up and .... Oh I could go on and on. Actually I do go on and on, truth is I have to find the camera and then the instructions and then any connecting twiddly bits - it all seems such a lot of effort.

Found piccies to brighten the blog up and to cheer myself with the happy thought that the needles will soon be flying again once the dissertation is over and I mean needles flying in a productive way, not through the air in frustration that my brain is now seriously fried and I can't think what to have for dinner let alone clever things to put in the 20K words to be handed in just as soon as (or 3 weeks in normal terms).

Anyway, whodathunkit - not all the items are knitted in green yarn (actually I lost my photos of my two fave items which are both green). The two that escaped are a Kidsilk Haze long sleeve tee in gooseberry (Icy from Rowan Book Nr 30) which compels people to stroke me (dangerous thing to do that - librarians and hamsters can be a bit nippy if handled by unfamiliar/overfamiliar? people) and Tess in a softer matching green RowanspunDK in moss stitch (also in Rowan Book Nr 30) and has definite "binkie" qualities. I am feeling infinitely more perked up now I have looked at knitting stuff - I may even go further and indulge in a nice glass of NZ Shingle Peak Pinot Noir, now normally I am a kiwi blond kind of woman (with the odd leaning towards - or is that after? Aussie reds) but that was the only Shingle Peak in the shop and I was homesick and hankering after a bit of kiwi sunshine even if was a year or so old sunshine and came in a bottle and besides my aunty used to live on a farm near where it comes from, oh happy memories.... too many reasons are perhaps giving the impression I am desperate, well given the brain-jam I am currently undergoing (sent off the methodology for criticism last night and believe me that was a trauma and a half as after struggling with it, I have realised I am just not methodical and having to justify something I am just not, well it just about did for me) well just maybe I am a leetle stressed.

Kaffe Fasset Cardigan from Rowan

knitted last year and not 100% successful in my opinion

Berrocco Seude Jersey, no pattern

like the yarn and wanted a simple no-brainer to knit, worked out better than I expected

Yarn from Ashford (makers of all those spinning wheels), NZ; no pattern

yarn from Ashford in Ashburton bought eons ago during a visit home

testing testing testing

2005-08-29T05:59:00.000Z

Anything could happen, anything quite likely is. This is probably a dumb time to enter the world of blogdom. The husband is upstairs doing unspeakable things to a kit from IKEA (a bed for the daughter (number3 child) should you ask, or actually half a bed as he bought half and realised later there was another half to buy, so it is actually more of a cage for a 10 year old which is kind of apt considering). Number2 child is prowling the kitchen like a feral beast on a quest for food (we did the supermarket shop today and already he has eaten a fair amount of it) and number1 child is watching something about dinosaurs. So in between husband thumping and crashing (in a non planned way), number2 thumping and crashing in a food-seeking way, number1 thumping and crashing in a trying-to-get-comfortable kind of way that could wreck the sofa and number3 just thumping and crashing because she is that kind of kid... I'm not sure I really can concentrate. Still fingers crossed (can one type with crossed fingers?).

Get a life.....

2005-08-29T05:41:00.000Z

Well, I think they (number1, number2 and number3 children) are kind of gone to bed (the thumping and crashing has generally moved upstairs). So I thought I would try and post some pictures of the other grand passion in my life - knitting. This photo is a sweater I knitted last year when I had a life, in other words pre-dissertation. I vaguely remember what that was like, to go hither and frolic merrily here and there (well mainly in yarn shops actually) without the guilty feeling that it was all about to cave in on me. Oh yes, I remember, sort of... Anyway onto more important things like knitting, and more specifically this jumper - I'd had the idea in my head for oooh ages and then finally gave up the procrastination to actually knit it (after sitting on the floor with colouring in pencils and graph paper and sellotape and scissors and ....), as even though I left the yarn and needles lying 'round it just wouldn't knit itself. It is supposedly inspired by scabious flowers which is why the flower centres are checkered like pin cushions. I was so suprised when it finally worked out, but it took kind a bit of brain power to work out the centre and and repeats and shaping (oh, yes I believe in shaping - otherwise yours truly looks like the missing link between hamsters and humans, trust me they can mingle). I had a ceremonial burning of the scrappy bits of paper when I had finished it and a big bag of wotsits were eaten mmmmmmm mmmmmmmmmm. So what else did I knit last year? (this year has been so taken over by studying, so much so that I am almost an educated kinda gal, which is boring, boring and boring and as the dissertation is on health literacy they won't accept a pile of knitted things so I have had to resort to actually putting words to paper or screen rather than stitches to swatch).

Well, I know I have pictures somewhere of things I knitted, mostly they are green things. I have a thing about green, I know it, I recognise it, I plan yarn visits around avoiding green but somehow I usually come out with green yarn. There must be a deep seated void within that can only be met with green yarn... yup that must be it. Yarn should be available on prescription. You heard it from a health information professional.