day 3 - wood lice for the win!

I finally finished my Cowichan-inspired cardigan and I LOVE it. I used a pattern that included blank charts so that you could design your own patterns. I started with a bunch of old Mary Maxim/Buffalo wool patterns that my amazing mother scanned in for me as a base, and then designed from there. The wool is actually the old discontinued Buffalo wool (not, disappointingly, actual buffalo) that Mom scored for me in a building sale in Canada (did I mention amazing? Seriously people - that is love).

I've been fascinated with Cowichan jumpers as long as I can remember. When I was looking for design ideas, I found so many pictures of other people's jumpers that I had taken surreptitiously (and sometimes not-so-surreptitiously) on our trips to Canada. Then a few years ago I read a book that really made me love and respect these sweaters even more - Sylvia Olsen's Working with Wool. Here's the link - https://sononis.com/product/working-with-wool-by-sylvia-olsen/ - go buy it now if you haven't read it - it is amazing. She creates a history of the west coast and colonisation through wool and these sweaters and it was eye opening to say the least. 

There is a history of these sweaters being usurped and stolen, knocked off and the people who make them cheated. I hemmed and hawed for awhile because I did not want to in any way join that brigade. But I am so inspired by them and I wanted to pay homage in a respectful way as well. I hope I managed to stay on the right side of that line but comments welcome as always.

The wool was a PAIN to knit with - 6 strands of unspun cloud fluff that broke as soon as you looked at it. Good luck with pulling snug for colour work, which, I may add, I knit in the traditional way of back and forth so that means stranded purl rows. ARGHHHHH (European stranded knitting like fair isle is almost always knit in the round, so no stranded purling). It was a good thing I was utterly besotted with it from day one or it would have landed up in the rubbish bin almost as quickly.

Can you tell what the creature is? I knit a test to make sure you'd be able to see it, and when I tried it out on a few people, I got responses that ran from "a chameleon" to "whale" and "some sort of fish" but the best was my friend John who looked at the sweater, looked at me, furrowed his brow and tentatively guessed, "Wood louse?"  For the record it is SUPPOSED to be a salmon but I guess it can be whatever you want it to be.

And best of all? It has pockets!

In social isolation news, we walked up to the Shipwright today, the long way, around the marsh. It was sunny and windy and we felt so much better once we hit the fields. We barely saw anyone out there, and we had a pint sitting on the bank watching the tide come up. Neal didn't go into the pub at all (there's even an outside loo) so I don't think it was particularly risky. Who knows how long our pubs will stay open for?  It did us a lot of good. And I'm glad I got out at least once in my swish new cardigan!

Day 2

It was a bright sunny almost-spring day here which has helped enormously as we all try to get to grips with this new life. I'm going to try to stick to a vague schedule so I've just shut off my work laptop and had a trombone practise. I really feel for people who can't make music - I feel so much better after that practise. Neal has made chicken stock and sourdough bread and the house smells like heaven. We even dried laundry outside for the first time this year. I have a furniture delivery for one of my projects tomorrow which looks like it is going ahead albeit without me (sniff). The market was still on in town and there were quite a few people out and about.

I even found quite a few half-used blister packs of paracetamol - hurrah for being disorganised and never putting things away in the same place! My colleagues have been sending photos of empty shelves, and one of their sons has a temperature today which is not good news at all (I haven't seen her in a while so hopefully no cross contamination there but you sure get a feeling for how easy it would be).

I've started a "loose ends" list to refer to if we get bored (!!) and I think I'll start a jigsaw tonight too. I have lots of wool :) We're more fortunate than many people so far as at least one of us is still getting paid (for now anyways). I can't really comprehend what this is going to mean long-term, I don't suppose any of us can.

Stay safe peoples xxxx

day 1 - night 1 - ???

Already time is heading liminal.

We're officially in lockdown now - no non-essential travel, working from home. We weren't this morning, and I went (reluctantly) into London on the train, armed with a pre-defined set of behaviours (don't drink your coffee on the train, don't touch the seat rests or the table, stay as far away from anyone as you conceivably can - in London - tricky, wash your hands IMMEDIATELY). Neal is reasonably severely asthmatic and has a tendency for problems in the lung department when he gets a cold. In the last few days it's been very difficult to know if you are tipping into paranoia or not.  We've settled for just-before xmas levels of stocking up, although we may up that slightly over the next days. I did stock up on the stuff that's easier in London - noodles, cheap scotch from Aldi (I am willing to improvise on toilet paper - but scotch? let's hope our supplies last). I haven't been able to buy any paracetamol which worries me slightly but maybe things will even out as we get used to this new normal.

It's very surreal.

At least we like each other, Neal and I.

oh what a day

It has been one of those only-so-often lovely-from-start-to-finish days - the ones, that when you have them when you're younger, completely distort how you think adulthood will be. That was great, you think when you have a day like this when you're 15. This growing up thing is brilliant.
Years pass.
*tumbleweed*
Gradual slumping into inner existentialism commences.

But not today.

This weekend is the Faversham Literary Festival ( https://www.favershamliteraryfestival.org/ ), which is in its 3rd year. I set a £20 budget, and when Neal decided he didn't fancy anything, I went to town. I only had today, as tomorrow we're flying up to the Highlands for a highly-anticipated visit to Neal's cousin, north of Inverness. I saw 5 talks today, all of which, if not all entirely brilliant, had interesting parts and were well worth the attendance.

It was a day of relaxed connecting - full of ideas, seeing old friends, bumping into loads of Faversham friends, and beautifully ending with an impromptu dinner feast with Helen and James.

And tomorrow - Scotland - and maybe even SNOW!!!!

some things take time

I finally started knitting my Cowichan-inspired jumper. It has been a rather long gestation period. I've had the wool for nearly 4 years. I finished charting the design 18 months ago. I knitted swatches  last year. Today I started knitting, and it feels good. Even when Neal said, off-hand, "I thought you were going to use black."  "I am using black," I retorted. Neal, ever cautious, replied slowly "....it looks quite a lot like navy blue - maybe it's the light?"

It was not the light. I've had this wool for 4 years. I have gazed at it, fondled it, even weighed and measured it, and not once did I notice that I had two cakes of black and one of navy. This is a problem on several counts. For one thing, how on earth did I not see that? I even have new glasses. For another thing, my first impulse was a very strong rejection of the very idea I could be wrong. Even as I simultaneously stared at a suddenly undeniably navy blue skein of wool. 

What do you want to be? A colour blind, intransigent knitter, said no one ever. Worrying.

I just got back from a yoga class, held, amusingly, in St Jude's - the patron saint of lost causes. I was just trying it out to see if I liked it or not. The friend who recommended it said it was like going to therapy. I could probably use that, I thought. I really did try to like it. I would love to be the sort of person who likes a class like this. Alas it appears I am not that person. The woman who ran it was lovely, and had a very melodious voice (in the first relaxation I swear to god someone was snoring which was slightly off-putting but I guess they were just very ....relaxed). But as the class continued, she kept saying things like "you are pure light" and I kept thinking things like "well no not really". She'd say, "what is your heart telling you?" and I would think "hmm possibly angina?" And worst of all, in the final relaxation, I had to stifle a terrible urge to shriek with laughter - it kept bubbling up -  I think it was just the sheer earnestness of it all. I didn't laugh, thank goodness (oh but it was a close call).

I guess I'll have to find my therapy elsewhere.

and sometimes the universe rewards us (or rather coincidences align)

I had a site meeting this morning so couldn't go for a run before work ( ah - too bad - 😄 ) but I did come back to work from home after the site visit so I could still get in a run before dark. I was tired. My legs ache. It's the first Friday after the holidays. My site meeting was trying. I did not feel like running. I vocalised this to some length, accompanied by shuffling and sighing. Finally I headed out the door. And the moment - the MOMENT I hit the rec ground, the sun cam streaming through the clouds, lighting up the trees and making even the rec ground construction site look beautiful. Out in the fields it was even better.

Although - I suppose if I hadn't spent so long bemoaning my fate I would have missed some of the sunbeams.  Make of that what you will!

winter walks

The entryway of the Shipwright Arms yesterday afternoon. Bit muddy out there!

I'm dreaming of a soggy christmas....

In 15 minutes I have to go out of doors, out of the dry, warm, deliciously-gingerbread-scented (Felix and I have been baking) house into the cold, wet, dark, did I mention wet? marketplace and play Christmas carols (again) on my trombone. So what if hundreds of Faversham people also come out and everyone sings together and loads of people say it's their favourite Faversham event of the year? There's wine, and whiskey in the house - did I mention that?  And some really lovely nibbles. If I did actually want to go out (!!!!!) I could go to Helen and James' where there is also wine and whiskey and a roaring fire too. And undoubtedly more good nibbles.

There is no wine, no whiskey in the darkness ahead. Just rain, and a driving wind that slinks water into all the gaps in your outerwear.

THE THINGS I DO FOR CHRISTMAS (stomps off to find band rain coat)...