Sleevies

There's a joke about "sleevies"; I won't repeat it here for fear of a great groan of derision. But these will be sleevies quite soon. I have been knitting a jacket since darling daughter bought me the wool for my birthday in August (a "significant" one). She really shouldn't have but I had been wanting to knit up a pattern I found at a Knit and Stitch show we had been to several years ago. It was on my "when I've finished x,y,z and all things in between" list.

The pattern begins with the words "cast on 503 stitches" Not for the faint hearted then, but it is a lovely one; the body all knitted in one piece. It is the "Venus Coat" from Purl Alpaca designs. Like my previous jacket I have no illusions that I will look all sylph like, as per their model, but I thought it a lovely design and I've never knitted an all in one garment before so was looking forward to the challenge.

As I have reached the sleeves, you'll gather that the main body of the jacket is now completed. Every row of the "skirt" section took a Very Long Time, but was worth the effort. The pattern involved lots of "yo, sskpo, yo K2tog, yo ......" instructions, but the resulting open fabric will have a lovely swish to it. It was fascinating seeing how the pattern maintained the lacy open skirt while reducing the bulk up to the 3/1 rib body. The sleeves are now nearly complete and I face the final hurdle. In this case it is the fact that there are no making up instructions - no, really, there aren't. It just says "FINISHING Fasten all loose ends". I have looked and looked, and there is no small print hidden just beneath the front picture, or tucked away in the bit showing the measurements. I'm pretty sure I can work it out. At my advanced years I jolly well should be able join shoulder seams and neckband and set in a sleeve, but I think an email to the company might be in order, just in case there is a catch! 

In other news, I am considering moving all my stitch/textile/yarn related posts to my other blog - one I started in 2017 in an attempt to take part in the Year of Stitches project. (I lasted 'til May!). Perhaps that would be a better place for textile themes, leaving the current blog for my more family, garden and pondering posts. "An Elbow's Length of Thread" seems a more appropriate title for stitch related things. I wonder about the variety of posts here; perhaps the blog's title doesn't reflect content; can I manage to keep two blogs going? If I keep everything here then "An Elbow's Length" will just have to go!

What do you think?

Chilly evening

 It is getting harder to keep up the motivation to go out and get exercise with these frigid days of winter. Yesterday I was all but resigned that my walk was too much effort, especially as the snow began to drift down again, but I gave myself a Good Talking To. I had noticed that sunset and low tide would coincide, so despite gathering clouds I told myself I would regret it if I didn't pop down to the seaside just to see - after all I didn't have to get out of the car did I?

And, as the wise Sandra Brownlee says "you have to begin ... that's all you have to do" and once you've begun things flow from there, though I often forget this and get stuck in "not doing". So I hopped in the car, grateful for the heated steering wheel and seat, and drove the short way down to the seafront, snow hissing on the windscreen, to see what I could find.

There weren't many folk there, but the tide was low and the sun was glowing from behind the snow clouds, shining on the wet sand all the way round the bay to Eastbourne, with Beachy Head and the Downs, dusted with snow, in the distance

Folk were walking along the shoreline, dogs prancing and dancing on the sand

And the De La Warr Pavilion was looking rosy in the evening light.

Well worth the effort of just beginning; beauty to delight, the brisk evening air to refresh and a walk to invigorate and add to my step count for the day.

Scent and yellow

 I wish I could bring you the scent of this, I hadn't realised it was so full of flower this year, it's relatively young and in previous years, only had a few yellow tassels, but this year; a taste of things to come. It is still quite small, but the scent permeates the garden in little pockets of deliciousness

Further down, in the less picturesque, but more productive space, the greenhouse really could do with a washdown, but the canes are ready for beans. They are part useful harvest, part desperate attempt to keep the bamboo under control, because the thought of having it removed is a little anxious making!

Down in the Dell, the really wild space is also beginning to come alive. Green shoots of daffodil leaves, barely visible, line the left side of the path; last year's hazel poles await use on the right; the bare limbs of two fruit trees dance in the quiet. This is where the badgers have their home, and the foxes too, and in summer it is full of butterflies, the scent of the rambling rose and a riot of native umbellifers which feed the buzzies.

At the moment, the hazel is festooned in yellow catkins; in certain lights, a gentle blaze at the bottom of the garden; today a quiet dropping of colour

signs of spring

Some little bits of pleasure from my garden just now. The birds think spring is coming too, all sorts of singing in the garden first thing in the morning, and around and about when I take an evening constitutional. The sun is beginning to find its way into little nooks and crannies as it moves higher in the sky. 

 

Mended

These gloves! Mum made them for me I would guess around 45 years ago, both greys from other projects, the fingers and cuff from a ripped down school cardigan. You can see from the way they have moulded to my finger shapes that they have has a lot of use.

This week I noticed a hole as I pulled them on; the first in all these years. That grey wool now long gone, I repaired it with red thread, a symbol of my enduring love for her, though she’s been gone more than ten years now. And a symbol of her love for me, given so freely, keeping my hands warm all this time.

some wild swooshy'ness

It has been very wild and windy the past couple of days. We are lucky enough to be in the south where the rain has been dramatic, but not damaging and as we live on the top of a hill we are unlikely to be flooded, though the pond has been rather full.

Because we are all constrained by the current restrictions I have been making the most of our lovely seafront for my hour's walks. I was wildly proud of myself earlier this month when I managed three miles of brisk walking. No great shakes for my fitter friends, but it made me very happy. Most days though it is about a mile, and I have been interested by how many other folk have been down there too - I suspect fitness devices across the country have recorded far more steps than usual over the past year as we all get our allocated daily exercise.

Today and yesterday have been enlivened by Storm Christoph. Yesterday was particularly blustery, and as I was trying to capture the whooshy sea foam swirling at the shoreline, what should come past but this fine machine, known at home as a wokka wokka. They fly up the coast from Odiham and have been seen much more frequently along the shoreline than in past times. A rather nice rumour suggests that "they" have changed the pattern of their training sorties to cheer us up in these difficult times. A lovely thought, and perhaps it is true.

Today was less grey, but no less windy. With a low tide there was no foaming froth flying up the the promenade, but there were folk out enjoying themselves in the waves - how marvelous to be fit, strong and confident enough to trust yourself to the water and fly across it, skipping the peaks of the waves with your rainbow sail high in the air.

I was rather glad these clouds were far out to sea, and gave me time to scurry home before they dropped their water on us.

Time for some quiet stitching I think.

Happy New Year

I hope you and yours have had an enjoyable, if quiet Christmas and New Year. Tomorrow we take down the tree with it's message of hope for the return of light in the darkness, and our little colour changing angels and snowflakes will be safely tucked back in their boxes to come out again next year. 

We aren't amongst those who have a themed Christmas and buy new decorations each year. Some of mine go back 30 years to when my daughter was a child, and upstairs I have a box with the last few remining ornaments that went onto our tree in Petersfield when I was a very little girl. And yes, Amanda Jane is tucked away in a box upstairs as well, along with all her clothes. She was given to me twice, the first time I was underwhelmed by her and she was "tossed to one side", so Mum packed her back up, put her away and brought her out again the following year when I was more appreciative!!

I have some new reading for the New Year. Thank you Rachel for the indirect recommendation - I was given two for the price of one! I am amused by the way that the same font has been used on both covers. Better finish "Early Mesopotamia, Society and Culture at the Dawn of History" first though. I think these will keep me busy for a good while, in between such delights as re reading PD James, for when I have an evening brain rather than morning one - you know how it goes.

I have been stitching as well, those little bits of blackwork all finished now, along with some Dorset buttons, which are rather fun to create, and may get a bit more embellishment. I will probably work a better version of the darkest square as well, it's lopsidedness is even more obvious here. They will be gathered together with others for a group project which must be finished in the next couple of months. I will post the results when it's done. I wonder what it might be?

I have enjoyed doing some simple stitching that hasn't required too much thinking. Sometimes that's all you need, a set of instructions, a needle, some thread, fabric and an embroidery hoop. Oh, and some good music to stitch by, in this case one of my favourite Christmas albums - Jethro Tull's Songs From the Wood with it's glorious ringing out of Solstice bells.