It’s My Birthday

Had a great day. Physio says he doesn’t need to see me any more (if I keep up my exercises), bought yarn, had lunch and shopped with Mum. Bought “Handknit Holidays”, but am sending it back – $60 is too much to pay for the one pattern I would knit from the book. But I am keeping the James Blunt CD. Tried my first home dyeing, the purple did not work out, but I am pretty happy so far – lets see how it knits up.

Had a family dinner at a great Indian place in Harris Park (no, I have no idea where it is), mum’s brilliant fruitcake, and maybe one too many glasses of wine 🙂

Sick!

I’ve been feeling a little poorly for a few days, but this morning my sore throat felt like it was closing up entirely – and I woke up to a very bad asthma attack. My asthma has been bad since the weather has become colder, and I’ve been careful to take my preventer religiously, knowing that if I don’t, I could end up in hospital, or worse.

So today I’ve had a very quiet day. I’ve been feeling frustrated that I don’t get enough time for myself, for my knitting, photography, writing, gardening, and all the things that get forgotten in my busy life.

So with a day off, I was feeling miserable that I wasn’t able to use my time constructively. I did a load of washing, and put the dishwasher on, but between the painkillers, the sudafed, and the vast amounts of ventolin I had to take to keep breathing, I was about as jittery and scattered as a frog in a blender. Which, as you know, is strongly against my deeply held beliefs.

I finished the Surprise Jacket for little Lara on the weekend, and on monday I finished the Baby Fern Jumper. My dear friend Anna and her lovely husband are probably going through labour right now. On Saturday afternoon, she was 11 days overdue – and she was going to be induced today. I’ve got everything crossed, and am waiting with bated breath for an announcement.

Anna and I shared a house in the early nineties, and without going into too much detail, we shared some turbulent times. I am very happy that she is back in my life, and more than a little touched that she and Rob are considering naming their baby daughter Lara.

I knitted a fab blankie for them when I first learned they were having a baby. At that time, the baby was called “Boris Bump”. I am hoping to document the pattern properly, and perhaps even have the pattern published, so no pics yet. It’s pretty simple, but I think it’s the sort of thing I would have loved to knit as a newbie, so the Boris Blankie has to stay off the blog for now.

But I took pics of the Baby Fern Jumper today, and decided that it would be a good exercise to try to write up the pattern properly. Knitting things from a pattern is one thing, but writing up a pattern other people can follow is a skill I haven’t attempted until today.

So here it is, and here is a schematic. I’d love it if anyone actually wants to knit it, and if you do – and please send me any notes and corrections.

My Brother Got Married :)

One year and 363 days after I married Mark, Adam married Sarah, on a perfect day at Waverton Bowling Club.

I think this is my favourite image. Adam was playful, Sarah is the perfect foil for him, and the light was extraordinary.

I was asked to do a reading, and I found this very appropriate, given Adam’s “wandering past”. I have great hopes that he and Sarah will be very happy together, and I am thrilled that he has found someone he adores.


Our grandmother, Rita, modeled for Norman Lindsay- sculptor, painter, poet and author,who also wrote and illustrated children’s books. Before I was born, and just before he died, he gave Adam a copy of his book called “The Magic Pudding”. The inscription in the book reads “A slice of puddin’ for Adam”.

This story has always been special to Adam and I, and the reading comes from the end of the book, when Bunyip Bluegum has finally found his place in the world, and his seafaring friend Barnacle Bill sings his final chorus of his shanty “The Salt Junk Sarah”.

On winter nights there is always Puddin’ and hot coffee for supper, and many’s the good go-in I’ve had up there, a-sitting round the fire. When the wind blows and the rain comes down, it’s jolly sitting up aloft in the snug tree-house, especially when old Bill is in good form and gives us “The Salt Junk Sarah”, with all hands joining in the chorus.

“Oh, rolling round the ocean,
From a far and foreign land,
May suit the common notion
That a sailor’s life is grand.

“But as for me, I’d sooner be
A roaring here at home
About the rolling, roaring life
Of them that sails the foam.

“For the homeward-bounder’s chorus,
Which he roars across the foam,
Is all about chucking a sailor’s life,
And settling down at home.

“Home, home, home,
That’s the song of them that roam,
The song of the roaring, rolling sea
Is all about rolling home.”

More pictures can be seen here.

Learning a new skill

This past week has been very slow in knitting news, as I have decided to bite the bullet, and try to teach myself to knit right handed.

I first started knitting by holding the yarn in my right hand, and dropping the right hand needle to wrap the stitch, but for my first major project (The Go Everywhere, Wear with Everything Cardi from “Stitch ‘N Bitch”), I decided that my techniquie was far too inefficient for about 30 bajillion miles of stocking stitch (Note to American readers, what you call stockingette, we call stocking stitch).

So, armed with the instructions from “Stitch ‘n Bitch” , which are excellent, I taught myself to knit continental. And I forced myself to use the method for every bloody stitch of that god forsaken project. I love the cardi, but it is a challenging knit. Brain death occurs about 1 inch into the back piece, and then you realise you have two fronts, and two arms to do, and there is no way you can go back and frog because even that 1 inch has caused you so much pain.

So after THAT, I was pretty comfortable with continental, and have been happily speeding through my kniting and feeling (although not the fastest knitter in the world), that my knitting is not embarassingly slow, and that I have enough speed to be able to conquer a big project.

And then I saw Emma knitting the Fair Isle Sampler Hat from an old Interweave Knits magazine. And she was knititng with a strand in each hand, and I was in awe.

GIven that I am slightly left/right challenged in the first place, and that I had already pushed my boundaries to switch to continental, I really felt that that technique was not for me. But then I tried doing it another way, and quickly learned that only pain lies in that direction.

So I have pondered the problem for about 18 months, alternating between “I really should pull my finger out and try that” with “I don’t want to go backwards, look how far I’ve come”.

So this week I cast on another Umbillical Cord hat, and gritted my teeth, and decided to do it.

And I have discovered 2 things.

1) It’s very, very hard, but I can get about 1 stitch in 10 to slide off the needles with a proper flow, and if I am determined, I may get better with practice.
2) It’s much easier to knit in traffic with your gearstick hand free.

A Lovely Weekend

On saturday my parents came to help us get ready for the house inspection on wednesday. The housework has been a low priority whil I was ill, and now that I am recovering, it is still a low priority after getting myself to work, working a full day, and getting home. Recently I have started to cook again, but spare anergy for cleaning toilets has been thin on the ground.

After Mum and Dad left, we drove to Wisemands Ferry to visit Barry and Cath and to celebrate Barry’s 40th birthday. I met Barry because he had a bunny, Bunyip, and Bunyip has come to stay with me a few times over the years while Barry and Cath had holidays. Early this year Bunyip was diagnosed with a tumour, and about 3 weeks ago he went to the Rainbow Bridge.

Here is a picture of Barry and Bunyip that I took in January.


This is the view from our car as we crossed the river to Rivendell.

A Wee Rant

Politicians Want to Filter the Internet

Now, I am sure there are some very bad things on the internet. I have seen a lot of them. Mostly, because I was young and curious, and I wanted to know what goatse was, despite knowing it was going to be disgusting.

That was informed consent. I am sure there are a few people out there that haven’t seen the image I am talking about, and may be curious. Google at your peril – but rest assured that the information is there for those that wish to open their minds to a rare and little known hobby.

This is a hobby I am not interested in, and I am sure I will never want to get any more information on the subject for the rest of my life. But I do have a sense of security knowing that the information is out there for those that do wish to know about it.

Goatse is an interesting image to think about in the light of this whole “let’s save the kiddies from the evil intertron” palaver. Yes, it’s not for the weak hearted, but neither is it going to send me off to the nearest crack dealer for a hit. Information is power, and I am very, very frightened by our politicians continually ramping up their controls over what goes into my head.

Firstly, who decides what is porn, and what is not ? Who decides what is clean and what is dirty ? Do we cover up the rude bits on the Knitters Olympics Medalas one of Franklin’s readers seemed to want ?

Who decides if I can talk about my left wing politics, my knitted uterus, my desire to perform gay weddings, my friends breast cancer scare ?

You can’t legislate good manners, and you can’t control the internets. Nor should you try.

And a Post About Knitting !

These are the socks I didn’t quite get finished for my mother’s Christmas present. She was very gracious about it, even though dad got his. I finished knitting them over New Year, but I did the kitchener graft on sock one after a few too many shandies, and IT ALL WENT HORRIBLY WRONG.

Two months later, the socks were still languishing in my knitting bag as a mocking reminder of my multiple failures, and I decided to take the bull by the horns, and DEAL WITH IT. I was not going to let a pair of socks get the better of me. No, I am bigger than a kitchener graft, and what does not kill me will make me stronger.

So I took the socks to the pub, determined to get them finished. And….

Emma didn’t show up !

Of course, I had tied myself up in knots so tight that I couldn’t deal with it without Emma, so I waited another week, Emma showed up, undid the horror, put it all back on needles, and I did a neat, but spineless, three needle bind off.

The point of all this, is that

1. Emma is a superb human being.
2. Knowing your limitations can be a strength if you have support and can learn from experience.
3. It is good to put down a project and revisit it with fresh eyes.
4. You don’t need fresh three months to gain perspective on a knitting problem.
5. Three months can easily turn “perspective” into “terror”
6. Emma is superb, and everyone should have one.