Saturday 27 September 2008

Second fog

My prediction is that it will be a cold, harsh winter here in the UK. We didn't have much of a summer (it was wet and cold, even by British standards), but waking up to the second fog of the season this morning was still a bit of a shock. I'm wearing my knee-high ugg boots as insulation against the draught that breezes past the couch.

Since when did we get fogs in September? OK, I've only been here 19 years, but that is 19 Septembers. September is normally "good" weather: late summer days, warm, not much rain. Not this year. This year, I've been wearing my trench coat to work - and I drive(!) - complete with the warm lining zipped in. This year, we had our first fog nearly four weeks ago, at about the same time as the I-Knit-London-Day*.

I haven't blogged much this month. Not that I haven't had things to say - I frequently write blog posts in my head - but work sapped most of my intelligence so that when I finally sat down to write all that came out was "wibble". It was easier to reach for the knitting needles than the laptop in the evenings (even then, I couldn't cope with checking patterns so abandoned several things whenever I hit a pattern change). Oh, how I needed a holiday! I told one friend, "I'm too stressed out by work to even think about what I'm cooking for dinner!" (highly unusual for me, food being top of my mental agenda).

DH and I took this week off as annual leave. I've been looking forward to it for weeks. Our goals: sleep, rest, recuperate and spend time together. We've barely left the house. It's been wonderful. I now feel more "me".

The break has been great for my knitting, too. I've finished the third sleeve of the Must have cardigan and now only have to sew it up and knit the bands. (Remember, I didn't have enough of the original yarn so had to frog the first sleeve to integrate the new yarn.) I've also completed my [cough] crochetted [cough] pink, fluffy, double-ruffled scarf (using the charity shop yarn). And have been working on a pair of fingerless gloves using some leftover DK alpaca from my stash (I'm on version 3 - versions 1 and 2 were far too big for my small hands, so I've thrown out the pattern books). Photos and patterns** will be published in due course.

One thing is for sure, when the cold spell I'm predicting really hits, I will be prepared.

- Pam




* My big regret is that I didn't use that opportunity to buy more Alpaca for gloves. A couple of years ago, I knitted a pair of fingerless-gloves-mitten-combos in DK alpaca for my MIL (inspired by Subway Knitter's urban necessities). Now, I want a pair for myself. And I want to perfect the pattern I created then.

** Yes, patterns. I won't be compromising anyone else's copywright. I've taken ideas from other places but these designs are essentially mine. To some extent, all patterns are derivative (just look at the thousands of sock patterns published). What makes them unique is what the designer does with the components: "I'll take those sleeves, this cable and that neckline, please, with a side order of mohair trim".

Tuesday 9 September 2008

Co-incidence?

I saw my Dad tonight.

No, I wasn't seeing things. It wasn't a ghost (even though he's been dead since 1989). Rather, it was a double. I was watching the Jerry Springer episode of the BBC's excellent, Who do you think you are? which we videoed a couple of weeks ago. In it, Jerry talked to Tony Grenville of the Association of Jewish Refugees. Tony looks so much like my father, it is uncanny. He has his ears, his chin, his mouth.

Watch the segment (shown half way down this page). You never see a full frontal shot of his face but. Oh. My. God. The expressions! It was like watching my Dad 30 years ago. He has got to be a cousin.

How ironic that I saw this today. It would have been Dad's 93rd birthday today.

- Pam

Saturday 6 September 2008

Meeting a "rock star"

Today, I met the Yarn Harlot

and gave her some beer



in beer cozies (aka stubby holders).


We met at the I Knit London Day.

It was a brilliant day. Stephanie Pearl-McPhee is lovely: funny, friendly, the sort of girl you'd love to be your best friend. A knitting rock star! There were hundreds of people queuing up to meet her

and she was lovely and gracious to each and every one.

Thank you for a great day, Stephanie. I'm tired* from shopping and queuing, you must be exhausted from talking and signing and being "on stage" for hours.

- Pam


PS: And a big "Thank you" to DH, who not only braved a day full of yarn and knitters (as a complete muggle), but also carried everything for me, gave me yarn(!) and took the photos.

* My back is killing me again.