Last time, I went out with two of the cost engineers - one is an accountant by training, the other a quantity surveyor. We wandered around and pretended we knew what we were looking at, playing engineer.
- Pam
Saturday, 28 November 2009
Playing engineer
I've told you, haven't I, that I work for a firm of engineers? A couple of months ago, I finally did the health and safety course that would allow me to walk the building site at Site. I've walked the site a couple of times since then. It's interesting seeing where all the money has gone and identifying those components for which I actually remember the vendor invoices. (Not many - we've had almost 6000 invoices since we started.)
Last time, I went out with two of the cost engineers - one is an accountant by training, the other a quantity surveyor. We wandered around and pretended we knew what we were looking at, playing engineer.
- Pam
Last time, I went out with two of the cost engineers - one is an accountant by training, the other a quantity surveyor. We wandered around and pretended we knew what we were looking at, playing engineer.
- Pam
Monday, 16 November 2009
Giving thanks where thanks is due
A big thank you to:
- Pam (who had to spend the morning at her regular office and didn't escape until 3pm)
Mark Kermode and Simon Mayo (Hello Jason Isaacs!)for keeping me sane on my 230+mile drive to Site this evening. Your podcasting efforts are much appreciated. It was a very long and boring trip, which would have been much worse without you to keep me company. How long and boring? Well, suffice to say that I got through THREE episodes of Lime & Violet after I turned onto the M1 and they run to almost an hour and a half.
Lime & Violet
Never Not Knitting
- Pam (who had to spend the morning at her regular office and didn't escape until 3pm)
Thursday, 5 November 2009
Touching base
For the first time in what feels like weeks, I've got the house to myself. DH has gone up to Town* to meet up with a friend. I had been looking forward to my alone time immensely, but when it finally arrived, I didn't know what to do with myself. There is nothing to watch on the telly. I don't want to watch the downloads on the laptop without DH in case there is something he'd like to see. And it's taken me two hours to drag myself out of my inertia and start blogging.
So, what has been happening? Last week can be summarised as two concerts, an NFL match, two deaths and a funeral. It was a busy, draining and highly emotional week. I'll write about the football later - there are photos to post, when I can find the camera - and much fun to describe, but I did want to say "Amy, got your email; I'm glad the program I posted to you arrived so quickly".
The concerts were Spandau Ballet at the NEC in Birmingham, and Fleetwood Mac at Wembley Arena. Again, I'll talk about them later. It is difficult to create a coherent post that ties together, when I really want to talk about the other things that happened last week.
I got a text message on Monday morning: P's mum finally passed away on Sunday after a years of battling with osteoporosis and, more recently, "chronic" breast cancer. She was 89 and, I think, had lived a long happy life, although the last few years had been filled with pain and disability from the osteoporosis. Nancy broke her hip last December and never quite recovered. P nursed her at home for the last few months, providing round-the-clock care. She did her mum proud.
The other news on Monday had me in tears sitting at my desk at lunchtime. Thank God I face the window when I look at my computer screen. Andy, the husband of one my net-friends, Dianakalt, fitted and died in hospital on Sunday afternoon. (Some of you may remember Diana from the Motley Fool.) They'd only been married a couple years. He was 40 and had recently been diagnosed with a brain tumour. No one had been expecting this; not yet. His diagnosis was recent - they were evaluating him for treatment - but he was well enough to be moved from a high-dependency unit to a physical rehabilitation unit to aid his recovery from the small stroke that led to his diagnosis.
How do you comfort a friend when your only medium of contact is words on a screen? What can you say? Losing a life partner is far more devastating than almost any other death - not only do you lose the person but all of your hopes, dreams and plans for the future as well. At least in real life, you can reach out and hug. And cry together.
I have something on my needles for Diana. It'll be finished soon. That is the best I can do - a gift, made with love, to hug her when I cannot.
At Nancy's funeral on Thursday, I said a quiet prayer for Andy. I don't think Nancy would have minded. And I hugged P and shared her grief.
- Pam
* Note the capital "T" on "Town"; a hangover from an earlier era which denotes London. All other towns in this country were once referred to with a small "t"; London was the Town. (Blame my mother.)
So, what has been happening? Last week can be summarised as two concerts, an NFL match, two deaths and a funeral. It was a busy, draining and highly emotional week. I'll write about the football later - there are photos to post, when I can find the camera - and much fun to describe, but I did want to say "Amy, got your email; I'm glad the program I posted to you arrived so quickly".
The concerts were Spandau Ballet at the NEC in Birmingham, and Fleetwood Mac at Wembley Arena. Again, I'll talk about them later. It is difficult to create a coherent post that ties together, when I really want to talk about the other things that happened last week.
I got a text message on Monday morning: P's mum finally passed away on Sunday after a years of battling with osteoporosis and, more recently, "chronic" breast cancer. She was 89 and, I think, had lived a long happy life, although the last few years had been filled with pain and disability from the osteoporosis. Nancy broke her hip last December and never quite recovered. P nursed her at home for the last few months, providing round-the-clock care. She did her mum proud.
The other news on Monday had me in tears sitting at my desk at lunchtime. Thank God I face the window when I look at my computer screen. Andy, the husband of one my net-friends, Dianakalt, fitted and died in hospital on Sunday afternoon. (Some of you may remember Diana from the Motley Fool.) They'd only been married a couple years. He was 40 and had recently been diagnosed with a brain tumour. No one had been expecting this; not yet. His diagnosis was recent - they were evaluating him for treatment - but he was well enough to be moved from a high-dependency unit to a physical rehabilitation unit to aid his recovery from the small stroke that led to his diagnosis.
How do you comfort a friend when your only medium of contact is words on a screen? What can you say? Losing a life partner is far more devastating than almost any other death - not only do you lose the person but all of your hopes, dreams and plans for the future as well. At least in real life, you can reach out and hug. And cry together.
I have something on my needles for Diana. It'll be finished soon. That is the best I can do - a gift, made with love, to hug her when I cannot.
At Nancy's funeral on Thursday, I said a quiet prayer for Andy. I don't think Nancy would have minded. And I hugged P and shared her grief.
- Pam
* Note the capital "T" on "Town"; a hangover from an earlier era which denotes London. All other towns in this country were once referred to with a small "t"; London was the Town. (Blame my mother.)
Wednesday, 21 October 2009
Still here
It's been a busy couple of weeks and I haven't had sufficient time to myself to put together any coherent thought, let alone write the posts that are floating around my brain. I think, at last count, I had six topics on my "to write about" list; I've just been too brain dead after work to string a sentence together.
On the upside (or downside, if you are our client), my work project is still growing strong and doesn't appear to have got any closer to completion than four months ago. It's entered the construction version of the "knitting black hole" (where you knit and knit and the piece your are knitting on never seems to get any longer). The current estimated completion date is nearly a year after the original one. Oops!
On the downside, DH is now officially unemployed. He was made redundant nearly two weeks ago. The parsimonious so-and-so's made him work his notice period (3 months), gave him the statutory minimum redundancy payment (£380 per year of service), and made it as difficult as possible for him to hunt for a new job. He's had more leads in the last week than he had in the preceding 3 months.
Oh, and I went to the Knit & Stitch Show at Alexandra Palace two weeks ago with BBAW* and was very restrained. I somehow managed to fritter away the money in my purse, but I came away with almost no new yarn. I did buy a skein of Buffalo Gold #4 directly from Ron Miskin (who's family owns the firm), and picked up 3 mill-end skeins of Colinette's Jitterbug from a basket on the Colinette stand. For £2 a skein, instead of the usual £9.74, I got enough for a three pairs of socks (the skeins weigh in at between 65g and 95g instead of the usual 100g). The colourways are Moss, Adonis and, I think, Turquoise, but they weren't labelled so I'm guessing a bit.
- Pam
* BBAW = Best Buddy at (former) Work. Neither of us work there now but, for four years, I got to work with one of my best and closest friends.
On the upside (or downside, if you are our client), my work project is still growing strong and doesn't appear to have got any closer to completion than four months ago. It's entered the construction version of the "knitting black hole" (where you knit and knit and the piece your are knitting on never seems to get any longer). The current estimated completion date is nearly a year after the original one. Oops!
On the downside, DH is now officially unemployed. He was made redundant nearly two weeks ago. The parsimonious so-and-so's made him work his notice period (3 months), gave him the statutory minimum redundancy payment (£380 per year of service), and made it as difficult as possible for him to hunt for a new job. He's had more leads in the last week than he had in the preceding 3 months.
Oh, and I went to the Knit & Stitch Show at Alexandra Palace two weeks ago with BBAW* and was very restrained. I somehow managed to fritter away the money in my purse, but I came away with almost no new yarn. I did buy a skein of Buffalo Gold #4 directly from Ron Miskin (who's family owns the firm), and picked up 3 mill-end skeins of Colinette's Jitterbug from a basket on the Colinette stand. For £2 a skein, instead of the usual £9.74, I got enough for a three pairs of socks (the skeins weigh in at between 65g and 95g instead of the usual 100g). The colourways are Moss, Adonis and, I think, Turquoise, but they weren't labelled so I'm guessing a bit.
- Pam
* BBAW = Best Buddy at (former) Work. Neither of us work there now but, for four years, I got to work with one of my best and closest friends.
Tuesday, 6 October 2009
Autumn has started
It's cold here. The weather turned on the weekend. Yesterday was particularly brutal, with cold radiating through the office walls. Here is this morning's message from the Facilities Manager:
Just a quick note to let you know that the heating system has failed due to a defective pressure switch and we are urgently attempting to source a replacement part. As soon as we have it the engineer will be back to fix it.
Hopefully this will be today.
Translation:
I really have tried to switch the heating on. It's not my fault that it isn't working - it's broken. STOP NAGGING ME!
- Pam
Just a quick note to let you know that the heating system has failed due to a defective pressure switch and we are urgently attempting to source a replacement part. As soon as we have it the engineer will be back to fix it.
Hopefully this will be today.
Translation:
I really have tried to switch the heating on. It's not my fault that it isn't working - it's broken. STOP NAGGING ME!
- Pam
Sunday, 27 September 2009
This gardening lark is harder than it looks
If it was 1942 and we were reliant on the produce from our garden to get through the lean rationing years, then I think we'd starve. This has been a far from successful year for my gardening. I'm not sure what I did wrong, although I'll make some guesses. Feel free to contribute.
The onions and the garlic
At the start of March, I bought a bag of 100 onion sets. I planted out 50 in April, which was a bit late but it was the first weekend when it wasn't raining. By mid August, the "flags" (the onion leaves) had fallen over and died off, so I unearthed them. Out of 50, less than half survived. Of those that survived, the majority were smaller than a golf ball. I really don't know what I did wrong - they were watered every night that it didn't rain.
The garlic were cursed from the start. I bought three starter-bulbs (what do you call them?) at the same time as I bought the onion sets. I had to bin most of the cloves before I planting out - they were covered in mould. Instead, I planted out some sprouting garlic that I had in the veggie basket. From 12 cloves, I have just unearthed 5 marble sized bulbs of garlic.
Did I plant the onions and garlic out too late? Was that the problem? Or didn't they get enough water, even though they got 2-3 watering cans worth every night?
Broad Beans
I know I planted the broad beans out too late. From the first batch of seeds in April, I got one seedling. The seeds were old. So in early May, I started again and planted them out 3 weeks later. In early June, we got the big invasion of black fly - at the first sign, I got online and ordered ladybird larvae.
The larvae arrived over a week later. From the look of things, most were dead before they got here. We carefully decanted them onto the broad beans, but the damage had been done. We got maybe a dozen beans from the crop. (Two years ago, I planted out the same number of bean plants and got a couple of pounds of beans.)
I'm going to try potting up some broad bean seeds now and over-wintering them covered in fleece. Maybe that will work and beat the black fly?
The courgettes
I mentioned earlier in the year that only one courgette survived (the other was snipped off at ground level by some nasty bug). For a long time, I thought the plant wouldn't survive. It just sat there for weeks with two or three small leaves and didn't get any bigger. Finally, it came good but unlike the first time I grew courgettes when they started cropping in June, this one didn't commence cropping until the start of August!
The sweetcorn
Eight corn survived planting out and grew. Six of them formed cobs. I managed to harvest three. I caught a fox eating the rest!
The potatoes
I had high hopes for these. We finished earthing up at the end of June and they had a healthy crop of leaves growing until a couple of weeks ago, when they started dying back. Tonight, DH and I unearthed our crop. Twenty potatoes. None larger than the palm of my hand and most of them smaller than a golf ball. What did I do wrong?
Fennel and pumpkin
I thought I got the timing for the fennel spot on, since I planted it out the day after they told me to on Gardeners' World. From two 18-inch drills of seeds, I got two seedlings and, nearly three months later, neither is more than three inches high.
The pumpkin is even worse, so doesn't deserve a section on its own. [sigh]
- Pam (So what did I do wrong?)
The onions and the garlic
At the start of March, I bought a bag of 100 onion sets. I planted out 50 in April, which was a bit late but it was the first weekend when it wasn't raining. By mid August, the "flags" (the onion leaves) had fallen over and died off, so I unearthed them. Out of 50, less than half survived. Of those that survived, the majority were smaller than a golf ball. I really don't know what I did wrong - they were watered every night that it didn't rain.
The garlic were cursed from the start. I bought three starter-bulbs (what do you call them?) at the same time as I bought the onion sets. I had to bin most of the cloves before I planting out - they were covered in mould. Instead, I planted out some sprouting garlic that I had in the veggie basket. From 12 cloves, I have just unearthed 5 marble sized bulbs of garlic.
Did I plant the onions and garlic out too late? Was that the problem? Or didn't they get enough water, even though they got 2-3 watering cans worth every night?
Broad Beans
I know I planted the broad beans out too late. From the first batch of seeds in April, I got one seedling. The seeds were old. So in early May, I started again and planted them out 3 weeks later. In early June, we got the big invasion of black fly - at the first sign, I got online and ordered ladybird larvae.
The larvae arrived over a week later. From the look of things, most were dead before they got here. We carefully decanted them onto the broad beans, but the damage had been done. We got maybe a dozen beans from the crop. (Two years ago, I planted out the same number of bean plants and got a couple of pounds of beans.)
I'm going to try potting up some broad bean seeds now and over-wintering them covered in fleece. Maybe that will work and beat the black fly?
The courgettes
I mentioned earlier in the year that only one courgette survived (the other was snipped off at ground level by some nasty bug). For a long time, I thought the plant wouldn't survive. It just sat there for weeks with two or three small leaves and didn't get any bigger. Finally, it came good but unlike the first time I grew courgettes when they started cropping in June, this one didn't commence cropping until the start of August!
The sweetcorn
Eight corn survived planting out and grew. Six of them formed cobs. I managed to harvest three. I caught a fox eating the rest!
The potatoes
I had high hopes for these. We finished earthing up at the end of June and they had a healthy crop of leaves growing until a couple of weeks ago, when they started dying back. Tonight, DH and I unearthed our crop. Twenty potatoes. None larger than the palm of my hand and most of them smaller than a golf ball. What did I do wrong?
Fennel and pumpkin
I thought I got the timing for the fennel spot on, since I planted it out the day after they told me to on Gardeners' World. From two 18-inch drills of seeds, I got two seedlings and, nearly three months later, neither is more than three inches high.
The pumpkin is even worse, so doesn't deserve a section on its own. [sigh]
- Pam (So what did I do wrong?)
Friday, 25 September 2009
Showing off the shopping from I-Knit London Weekender
There is a new love in my life - Blacker Designs Blue Faced Leicester 4-ply. Isn't it pretty?
OK, this is the True Confessions Time where I 'fess up about what I bought at the I-Knit-London Weekender.
I didn't set out to buy yarn, really I didn't. My shopping list was a copy of Alice Starmore's new book, a swift and a ball-winder, if I could find one. (I succeeded.) I was quite happy wandering around looking, touching and not buying. And then I stumbled upon the Blacker Designs booth. Blacker Designs are also known as The Natural Fibre Company (when they spin yarns for others). Earlier this year, they very kindly sent me 20-or-so 2-gallon ziplock bags, which are virtually unobtainable here. So when I saw the stall, I popped over to say "Thank You" in person.
I was chatting when the Blue Faced Leicester caught my eye and wheedled its way into my stash. Earlier, when I was queuing to get in, I'd been chatting with a staffer from The Knitter Magazine, who showed me a preview copy of Issue 10. The Blue Faced Leicester spoke to me and told me that it would be perfect for the cover sweater.
I dashed off to find the girl from The Knitter and begged her to tell me the yarn requirements for the cover sweater (called Virginia (rav-link)). The pattern said 10 x 50g balls plus 2 for the beret. Back at Blacker Designs, I told my contact "I'll take 14 balls. The pattern calls for 12, so I'll have two insurance skeins". The yarn diet was broken.
Of course, once you've broken a diet, you binge. Don't you? I was enchanted by Angel Lace by Bluefaced.com. It was soft and silky and they had a beautiful stole on display made from it. Next thing I knew, it made its way into my stash together with a copy of the Jessica Stole pattern.
My final purchase is all Annie Modesitt's fault. I know she didn't deliberately do it, but Annie is a Yarn Pusher. In class, we had to do a provisional crochet cast on. Annie provided the scrap yarn, a yard or so of Fiberspates' Scrumptious in a gorgeous charcoal colour. Yarn lust gripped me. I had to have some.
I left the show soon afterwards, before any more damage could be done.
- Pam
OK, this is the True Confessions Time where I 'fess up about what I bought at the I-Knit-London Weekender.
I didn't set out to buy yarn, really I didn't. My shopping list was a copy of Alice Starmore's new book, a swift and a ball-winder, if I could find one. (I succeeded.) I was quite happy wandering around looking, touching and not buying. And then I stumbled upon the Blacker Designs booth. Blacker Designs are also known as The Natural Fibre Company (when they spin yarns for others). Earlier this year, they very kindly sent me 20-or-so 2-gallon ziplock bags, which are virtually unobtainable here. So when I saw the stall, I popped over to say "Thank You" in person.
I was chatting when the Blue Faced Leicester caught my eye and wheedled its way into my stash. Earlier, when I was queuing to get in, I'd been chatting with a staffer from The Knitter Magazine, who showed me a preview copy of Issue 10. The Blue Faced Leicester spoke to me and told me that it would be perfect for the cover sweater.
I dashed off to find the girl from The Knitter and begged her to tell me the yarn requirements for the cover sweater (called Virginia (rav-link)). The pattern said 10 x 50g balls plus 2 for the beret. Back at Blacker Designs, I told my contact "I'll take 14 balls. The pattern calls for 12, so I'll have two insurance skeins". The yarn diet was broken.
Of course, once you've broken a diet, you binge. Don't you? I was enchanted by Angel Lace by Bluefaced.com. It was soft and silky and they had a beautiful stole on display made from it. Next thing I knew, it made its way into my stash together with a copy of the Jessica Stole pattern.
My final purchase is all Annie Modesitt's fault. I know she didn't deliberately do it, but Annie is a Yarn Pusher. In class, we had to do a provisional crochet cast on. Annie provided the scrap yarn, a yard or so of Fiberspates' Scrumptious in a gorgeous charcoal colour. Yarn lust gripped me. I had to have some.
I left the show soon afterwards, before any more damage could be done.- Pam
Saturday, 19 September 2009
Pilgrimage
It's all Ted Egan's fault.
Or maybe you could blame Howard. He gave me a copy of The Dish for my birthday, which I watched with DH and was stunned when I discovered that DH had never heard Russell Morris sing "On the Wings of An Eagle" before. That lead to me buying the movie's soundtrack as a download off Amazon, which lead to a further "I wonder if I can find...." session, where I looked for more obscure tracks. It was then that I purchased Ted Egan's A Town Like Alice album.
Maybe you can lay the blame further back, on the shoulders of the coach driver who played A Town Like Alice constantly on the school Central Australia trip, all the way from Port Augusta to Ayers Rock and then on to Alice Springs.
Me? I'll stick with blaming Ted.
Anyway, there I was driving back from Site a couple of weeks ago, when Ted Egan began singing about John McDouall Stuart dying at his sister's house in London, a few miles from where I sat stuck in traffic. Stuart is one of Australia's greatest explorers, the man who successfully mapped the route south to north across the heart of Australia, from Port Augusta in South Australia to what is now Darwin. Apart from the highway named after him, I knew nothing about him until I sat listening to Ted. If you asked most Australian school kids of my generation who mapped the route for the telegraph, they'd tell you, wrongly, that it was Burke & Wills. In fact, it was John McDouall Stuart.
Consumed with a sense of sadness that Stuart died unappreciated and forgotten, miles from his beloved Australia, I decided that the only thing to do was to mount a pilgrimage to his grave. On Saturday, I dragged DH down to Kensal Rise Cemetery to lay a branch from a gum tree on Stuart's grave.
It was the best that I could do. You can't get wattle, or Sturt's desert pea, or bottle-bush around here, and a European flower just wouldn't have been fitting.
We stood there silently for a couple of minutes, paying our respects. I hope, somewhere, Stuart knows.
- Pam
PS: When doing my research to find Stuart's grave, I was pleased to discover that some people haven't forgotten him. The John McDouall Stuart Society ensures that he isn't forgotten.
Or maybe you could blame Howard. He gave me a copy of The Dish for my birthday, which I watched with DH and was stunned when I discovered that DH had never heard Russell Morris sing "On the Wings of An Eagle" before. That lead to me buying the movie's soundtrack as a download off Amazon, which lead to a further "I wonder if I can find...." session, where I looked for more obscure tracks. It was then that I purchased Ted Egan's A Town Like Alice album.
Maybe you can lay the blame further back, on the shoulders of the coach driver who played A Town Like Alice constantly on the school Central Australia trip, all the way from Port Augusta to Ayers Rock and then on to Alice Springs.
Me? I'll stick with blaming Ted.
Anyway, there I was driving back from Site a couple of weeks ago, when Ted Egan began singing about John McDouall Stuart dying at his sister's house in London, a few miles from where I sat stuck in traffic. Stuart is one of Australia's greatest explorers, the man who successfully mapped the route south to north across the heart of Australia, from Port Augusta in South Australia to what is now Darwin. Apart from the highway named after him, I knew nothing about him until I sat listening to Ted. If you asked most Australian school kids of my generation who mapped the route for the telegraph, they'd tell you, wrongly, that it was Burke & Wills. In fact, it was John McDouall Stuart.
Consumed with a sense of sadness that Stuart died unappreciated and forgotten, miles from his beloved Australia, I decided that the only thing to do was to mount a pilgrimage to his grave. On Saturday, I dragged DH down to Kensal Rise Cemetery to lay a branch from a gum tree on Stuart's grave.
It was the best that I could do. You can't get wattle, or Sturt's desert pea, or bottle-bush around here, and a European flower just wouldn't have been fitting.
We stood there silently for a couple of minutes, paying our respects. I hope, somewhere, Stuart knows.
- Pam
PS: When doing my research to find Stuart's grave, I was pleased to discover that some people haven't forgotten him. The John McDouall Stuart Society ensures that he isn't forgotten.
Wednesday, 16 September 2009
I-Knit London Weekend
How do you distill two busy days into a single post? I've been asking myself that since Sunday. Friday and Saturday, I spent at the I-Knit London Weekend at the Royal Horticultural Hall in central London. Since Sunday, I've tried to make sense of it all.
In summary: I did 5 classes; met a couple of very nice teachers; spoke to several very nice knitters; walked across St James' Park in the dark; blew my budget; fondled a lot of yarn; purchased a ball winder and swift; blew my budget; bought a couple of books; broke my yarn diet; bought a multi-size pack of Knitpicks DPNs; and (did I tell you?) blew my budget. So, where to start?
Classes
I did 5 classes: two with Annie Modesitt, two with Alice Starmore and one with Marjan Hammink a.k.a. Yarnissima.
Alice Starmore is a lovely, soft spoken, gracious Scottish lady, with an innate sense of colour and an appreciation of the history of her craft and her people. Alice's first class was about fair-isle knitting techniques, but it was far more than just learning how to knit two colours in the same row. We talked about fair-isle garment construction, changing colours, using both your right hand and your left to hold different colours of yarn. Alice showed us steeking and discussed techniques for setting a steek, picking up stitches from the steek, and finishing off the cut edges. The choice of yarn is one key to success - the traditional wool is soft, springy and felts a little when it is first washed.
Alice's second class was about her design influences. She talked about the history of the Isle of Lewis, including her own family history, and her love for her island and her craft. She talked about her own design history, the patterns and the yarn line that she now runs (both of which can be brought directly from her website). Next birthday, I want my present to be one of her kits.
There is a core of steel to Alice Starmore - she is a fierce defender of her land, fighting to protect the ecology of the island from developers. However, she was very gracious to me and to the rest of my class, signing copies of her books (including my pre-publication copy of her Book of Fair-Isle Knitting) and posing for photos.
(Me and Alice Starmore.)
Thanks to the Yarn Thing podcast, I've listened to Annie Modesitt talk about designing and book publishing several times. each time, I've found myself nodding along in agreement, so I was curious to meet the person behind the voice. I am very impressed. Annie is lovely: warm, friendly and very welcoming. After six hours of teaching, she was still as interested in her subject and her students as she was at the beginning.
I learned so many techniques, I'm not sure I could list them all. Annie is an amazing teacher and a thinking knitter's knitter. She didn't tell us to "do X because that gives you Y", Annie explained why X works and what would happen if you chose to do Z or T instead.
My world is richer for the six hours I spent in her class; I hope that I get the opportunity to take another Annie Modesitt class one day.
(Me and Annie Modesitt.)
The final class I did was Socks from the toe up, with the sock designer Marjan Hammink/Yarnissima. To put it bluntly, if you get the opportunity to take one of her classes, don't bother. After Alice and Annie, I was so disappointed. Yarnissima didn't teach us anything; she just handed us a worksheet to knit through. She barely spoke to us as a class and never spoke to me in person. There were no explanations of why you do something or tips and tricks to make toe-up socks better. We weren't even taught a cast-on for toe-up socks - I had to rely on the knitter next to me to cast on for me.
In 3 hours, I learned nothing from Yarnissima that I wouldn't have picked up from following a randomly chosen toe-up-sock knitting pattern. It was so bad that I've written to Gerrard and Craig, the guys behind I-Knit London, and told them exactly what I've just told you. (I also thanked them for a lovely weekend and raved about Annie and Alice.)
I haven't got time to talk about the rest of the weekend, right now. It's after 11pm here, I'm really tired and I need to go to bed. Can I leave you with a one word summary? It was brilliant!
- Pam
In summary: I did 5 classes; met a couple of very nice teachers; spoke to several very nice knitters; walked across St James' Park in the dark; blew my budget; fondled a lot of yarn; purchased a ball winder and swift; blew my budget; bought a couple of books; broke my yarn diet; bought a multi-size pack of Knitpicks DPNs; and (did I tell you?) blew my budget. So, where to start?
Classes
I did 5 classes: two with Annie Modesitt, two with Alice Starmore and one with Marjan Hammink a.k.a. Yarnissima.
Alice Starmore is a lovely, soft spoken, gracious Scottish lady, with an innate sense of colour and an appreciation of the history of her craft and her people. Alice's first class was about fair-isle knitting techniques, but it was far more than just learning how to knit two colours in the same row. We talked about fair-isle garment construction, changing colours, using both your right hand and your left to hold different colours of yarn. Alice showed us steeking and discussed techniques for setting a steek, picking up stitches from the steek, and finishing off the cut edges. The choice of yarn is one key to success - the traditional wool is soft, springy and felts a little when it is first washed.
Alice's second class was about her design influences. She talked about the history of the Isle of Lewis, including her own family history, and her love for her island and her craft. She talked about her own design history, the patterns and the yarn line that she now runs (both of which can be brought directly from her website). Next birthday, I want my present to be one of her kits.
There is a core of steel to Alice Starmore - she is a fierce defender of her land, fighting to protect the ecology of the island from developers. However, she was very gracious to me and to the rest of my class, signing copies of her books (including my pre-publication copy of her Book of Fair-Isle Knitting) and posing for photos.
(Me and Alice Starmore.)
Thanks to the Yarn Thing podcast, I've listened to Annie Modesitt talk about designing and book publishing several times. each time, I've found myself nodding along in agreement, so I was curious to meet the person behind the voice. I am very impressed. Annie is lovely: warm, friendly and very welcoming. After six hours of teaching, she was still as interested in her subject and her students as she was at the beginning.
I learned so many techniques, I'm not sure I could list them all. Annie is an amazing teacher and a thinking knitter's knitter. She didn't tell us to "do X because that gives you Y", Annie explained why X works and what would happen if you chose to do Z or T instead.
My world is richer for the six hours I spent in her class; I hope that I get the opportunity to take another Annie Modesitt class one day.
(Me and Annie Modesitt.)The final class I did was Socks from the toe up, with the sock designer Marjan Hammink/Yarnissima. To put it bluntly, if you get the opportunity to take one of her classes, don't bother. After Alice and Annie, I was so disappointed. Yarnissima didn't teach us anything; she just handed us a worksheet to knit through. She barely spoke to us as a class and never spoke to me in person. There were no explanations of why you do something or tips and tricks to make toe-up socks better. We weren't even taught a cast-on for toe-up socks - I had to rely on the knitter next to me to cast on for me.
In 3 hours, I learned nothing from Yarnissima that I wouldn't have picked up from following a randomly chosen toe-up-sock knitting pattern. It was so bad that I've written to Gerrard and Craig, the guys behind I-Knit London, and told them exactly what I've just told you. (I also thanked them for a lovely weekend and raved about Annie and Alice.)
I haven't got time to talk about the rest of the weekend, right now. It's after 11pm here, I'm really tired and I need to go to bed. Can I leave you with a one word summary? It was brilliant!
- Pam
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
Football, meat pies, kangaroos and Holden cars
Well, not quite, but that was one of the more memorable advertising jingles from my childhood.
Being an Australian, life is all about sport. I love this time of year: the cricket season is not quite over; the English Premier League (soccer) season started a month ago; the NFL season starts tomorrow (go Pats!); and the Aussie Rules season has reached the semi-finals (Come On the Bulldogs!). All my favourite sports are being played and I'm lapping them up.
Today, I used the BBC's website to follow the progress of the One Day International cricket match, England vs Australia at the Rose Bowl in Southampton. The Aussies outclassed the English at our "national religion" and are now 3:0 up in the series. Revenge for the English winning the Ashes at the end of last month.
Tonight, I watched England qualify for the World Cup in South Africa next year. They beat Croatia, 5:1, in a match at Wembley. They played better than I have seen them in a long time (until recently, England played as a collection of prima-donnas; tonight they played as a cohesive team). The Aussies have already qualified, so look out world! When we take a game seriously, we don't stop until we are world champions.
Also tonight, DH and I finished picking our teams for a fantasy NFL game. I've chosen several New England Patriots players so that I have someone to yell abuse at when they play at Wembley next month. That's the entire logic of my team.
Heaven! Now, if only I could find out the date for the annual Australian Rules Exhibition Football Match at the Oval, I'd be really happy.
- Pam
PS: The guys I work with can't quite believe that this girly-girl who knits is a sports fan.
Being an Australian, life is all about sport. I love this time of year: the cricket season is not quite over; the English Premier League (soccer) season started a month ago; the NFL season starts tomorrow (go Pats!); and the Aussie Rules season has reached the semi-finals (Come On the Bulldogs!). All my favourite sports are being played and I'm lapping them up.
Today, I used the BBC's website to follow the progress of the One Day International cricket match, England vs Australia at the Rose Bowl in Southampton. The Aussies outclassed the English at our "national religion" and are now 3:0 up in the series. Revenge for the English winning the Ashes at the end of last month.
Tonight, I watched England qualify for the World Cup in South Africa next year. They beat Croatia, 5:1, in a match at Wembley. They played better than I have seen them in a long time (until recently, England played as a collection of prima-donnas; tonight they played as a cohesive team). The Aussies have already qualified, so look out world! When we take a game seriously, we don't stop until we are world champions.
Also tonight, DH and I finished picking our teams for a fantasy NFL game. I've chosen several New England Patriots players so that I have someone to yell abuse at when they play at Wembley next month. That's the entire logic of my team.
Heaven! Now, if only I could find out the date for the annual Australian Rules Exhibition Football Match at the Oval, I'd be really happy.
- Pam
PS: The guys I work with can't quite believe that this girly-girl who knits is a sports fan.
Apologies if you're eating, but...
I needed to get this rant off my chest.
I work with one of the most disgusting women alive. I don't know who she is, but she regularly blocks one of the toilets in the main Ladies Loo in this building. It's been going on for years. We call her "The Phantom Toilet Stuffer". Of course, she doesn't report the problem to Establishment so the first they know about it is when someone finds it and phones them. (We aren't sure if she's the same woman who used to leave the toilet seat layered in toilet paper, or not. That phase only lasted a month or so.)
She isn't subtle about it, either. Frequently, there is "debris" left in the toilet bowl. Today was the worst yet. Faeces everywhere. EEWWWW!!!!
How can someone live like that? Surely she must know the mess that she's leaving behind? AARRGGGHHHH!
- Pam (Used to work on the Bowel Ward and never saw anything as disgusting as this.)
I work with one of the most disgusting women alive. I don't know who she is, but she regularly blocks one of the toilets in the main Ladies Loo in this building. It's been going on for years. We call her "The Phantom Toilet Stuffer". Of course, she doesn't report the problem to Establishment so the first they know about it is when someone finds it and phones them. (We aren't sure if she's the same woman who used to leave the toilet seat layered in toilet paper, or not. That phase only lasted a month or so.)
She isn't subtle about it, either. Frequently, there is "debris" left in the toilet bowl. Today was the worst yet. Faeces everywhere. EEWWWW!!!!
How can someone live like that? Surely she must know the mess that she's leaving behind? AARRGGGHHHH!
- Pam (Used to work on the Bowel Ward and never saw anything as disgusting as this.)
Sunday, 30 August 2009
Hobby versus Activity
What defines whether an activity is a hobby or just "something you do"? I was musing on that this morning, when I was writing up my latest sock on Ravelry. Knitting is my hobby, but so is crochet, needlepoint, cross-stitch, gardening, cooking, singing, and most recently candle-making and jam-making. Or are they? What makes a hobby a hobby? Where is the dividing line?
Is it when you cross the line from focussing on the outcome to enjoying the process? I love to cook. I enjoy the process as well as (usually) the product that results. Sometimes, though, cooking is just a chore, particularly after work: I'm hungry, I'm tired, and I want to eat something now. At other times, I potter in the kitchen, chopping and stirring, experimenting with flavours. Then I'm enjoying the process as well as the product. It amuses me, the men who list "cooking" as a hobby - after a hard day at work, their wives are probably standing in a dirty kitchen contemplating the washing up AND trying to figure out what for dinner in as rapid a fashion as possible. Do they view cooking as hobby? In those circumstances, probably not.
I think, earlier this year, gardening crossed the line from something I had to do (to tame the wilderness around here), through something I wanted to do (I've always wanted a vegetable garden), to something where I enjoy the process for the process's stake. Surely that is what makes it a hobby?
There are some hobbies that I haven't done in years. I haven't deliberately ignored them, more "bad light stopped play" and circumstances intervened. If the tidiness gremlins could tell me where I can find the needlepoint of Simpson's Gap, I'd appreciate it. I have the correct green for the gum tree now.
My most recent additions to the hobby repertoire are jam making and candle making. (My jam adventures will get their own post shortly.) I started making candles after trying fruitlessly to find citronella candles to burn in the kitchen to deter flies coming in while I cooked. I've made 3 citronella candles so far. I'd make more and different colours, etc, but I've had to rely on microwave soy wax - I've been searching charity shops for the last year for a double-boiler without success. Double-boilers virtually do not exist in this country, whether brand new or second hand. Yes, I started candle-making out of necessity but I enjoy the process as well as the product. I think that's another score for Hobby!
- Pam
Is it when you cross the line from focussing on the outcome to enjoying the process? I love to cook. I enjoy the process as well as (usually) the product that results. Sometimes, though, cooking is just a chore, particularly after work: I'm hungry, I'm tired, and I want to eat something now. At other times, I potter in the kitchen, chopping and stirring, experimenting with flavours. Then I'm enjoying the process as well as the product. It amuses me, the men who list "cooking" as a hobby - after a hard day at work, their wives are probably standing in a dirty kitchen contemplating the washing up AND trying to figure out what for dinner in as rapid a fashion as possible. Do they view cooking as hobby? In those circumstances, probably not.
I think, earlier this year, gardening crossed the line from something I had to do (to tame the wilderness around here), through something I wanted to do (I've always wanted a vegetable garden), to something where I enjoy the process for the process's stake. Surely that is what makes it a hobby?
There are some hobbies that I haven't done in years. I haven't deliberately ignored them, more "bad light stopped play" and circumstances intervened. If the tidiness gremlins could tell me where I can find the needlepoint of Simpson's Gap, I'd appreciate it. I have the correct green for the gum tree now.
My most recent additions to the hobby repertoire are jam making and candle making. (My jam adventures will get their own post shortly.) I started making candles after trying fruitlessly to find citronella candles to burn in the kitchen to deter flies coming in while I cooked. I've made 3 citronella candles so far. I'd make more and different colours, etc, but I've had to rely on microwave soy wax - I've been searching charity shops for the last year for a double-boiler without success. Double-boilers virtually do not exist in this country, whether brand new or second hand. Yes, I started candle-making out of necessity but I enjoy the process as well as the product. I think that's another score for Hobby!
- Pam
Wednesday, 19 August 2009
It always makes me cry
Virtually every week, the people of Wootton Bassett stop what they are doing and line their main street, in order to pay their respects to the latest British soldiers to die in Afghanistan and be repatriated home. They are the closest town to the air force base where the bodies are flown.
(If the video link doesn't work, it is here on the BBC website.)
It started with one man, an ex-soldier who noticed a military funeral cortege passing through the village, walked to the curb and stood to attention. It has grown to encompass the whole village and any visitors. The BBC cover it faithfully. And it always makes me cry.
Lest we forget.
- Pam
(If the video link doesn't work, it is here on the BBC website.)
It started with one man, an ex-soldier who noticed a military funeral cortege passing through the village, walked to the curb and stood to attention. It has grown to encompass the whole village and any visitors. The BBC cover it faithfully. And it always makes me cry.
Lest we forget.
- Pam
Friday, 14 August 2009
A Not So Frugal Confession for Frugal Friday
"Hello. My name is Pam and I am addicted to Yarn."
No, I'm not out of control yet. My love of all things wool-related doesn't mean that we can't afford food (but don't count on it if I go near the Quiviut…..). And we can still pay the bills. It's just that I am rapidly coming to the conclusion that I have stash issues. Over the last few months, I've been photographing and logging my stash in Ravelry. It's brought home just how much yarn I really have. The problem is not so much that I'm a hoarder, I think it's that my knitting ambitions far outstrip my abilities!
I thought I had it all pretty much under control: a handful of skeins of sock yarn; some alpaca I'd purchased at a show; the Heathland Hebridean kit DH gave me for Christmas; the white Corrodale I bought to make him a sweater; some leftovers from other projects; a couple of projects-worth for summer tops I'd planned to make this year.
Then, a couple of months ago, I decided to get serious and use Ravelry for the purpose for which it was designed: as a tool to log my stash, my patterns and my projects. The results are a revelation. And a shock!
OMG!
I have 55 different yarns in my stash. FIFTY FIVE YARNS! And there are one or two yarns that haven't made it onto Ravelry yet. OK, 25 are sock yarns and, usually, 1 skein each, but still.... That is one hell of a lot of yarn.
It started with shows. I've spent most of my knitting time in isolation, without a yarn shop for miles, so for a while I'd keep a list of the projects I wanted to knit and their yarn requirements and buy when I got to a shop or went to a show. (All reasonable behaviour.) Then a couple of years ago, the list ran out, so I started buying projects-worth of yarn when I saw something I fancied that I could afford at a show (the 700g of DK alpaca that in total cost less than £35 falls into this category). At each show, I'd buy something: a bargain; a rare wool; something I wouldn't see in a regular yarn shop. Even so, I thought I could handle it.
I was given gift vouchers to an on-line yarn shop. Problem: you could only use one voucher per purchase and I had been given 5 x £10. Generally, I prefer to buy yarn that I've fondled in real life. The exception is sock yarn, because it isn't a total disaster if one skein turns out to be not what I was expecting. Result: I spent them all on skeins of sock yarn.
Things snowballed a bit, so last year at the I-Knit-London Day, I came home with a haul of yarn: the 20 balls of Corrodale, the sweater kit that DH bought (and immediately hid from me until Christmas), 100g/1000 yards of heavy lace-weight cashmere (a lace cardigan's worth, hopefully), two skeins of Wagtail Mohair. That's 4 sweater's worth of yarn in my book.
Then in March, I got a bit carried away when Black Sheep Wools had a sale of Sublime's Angora DK. I ended up buying 3 sweater's worth in 3 different colourways (blue, pink and white). A bit extreme, but it was less than £2 a ball and sooo soft! I tell myself that if the first colour (giggle pink) I'd bought had been exactly what I wanted, I may have stopped with one, but I couldn't decide....
That was followed in June, when I got an email from Australia: Morris & Sons were having a sale. The lovely Cleckheaton Country 12-ply I'd bought to finish off the Must Have Cardigan was going for £14 a bag! Two bags of black were in my shopping cart and purchased before you could sing "Advance Australia Fair". It's currently on a ship, somewhere between here and Sydney, hopefully with the packet of Arnott's Mint Slices I requested.
No wonder I can't shut the stash!
I've already decided that this has to stop. I can't continue buying yarn and not using it up. So I hereby vow the following:-
With the exception of the Rowan Cocoon for which I have a project planned, I, Pipney-Jane, will not buy any more yarn until August 2010. I will only buy the Cocoon if I can find it for less than £6 a ball AND I have finished DH's sweater (not yet cast on).
This will be hard. I have two yarn shows on the horizon this autumn: the I-Knit London Day and the Knit & Stitch Show at Alexandra Palace. Wish me luck.
- Pam
PS: Yes, sock yarn counts.
PPS: It's not all in Ravelry - I'm about 98% done, but so far, the grand totals are:-
24 Different Sock Yarns, inc:
And quite a few odd balls, potential scarves, leftovers, etc.
No, I'm not out of control yet. My love of all things wool-related doesn't mean that we can't afford food (but don't count on it if I go near the Quiviut…..). And we can still pay the bills. It's just that I am rapidly coming to the conclusion that I have stash issues. Over the last few months, I've been photographing and logging my stash in Ravelry. It's brought home just how much yarn I really have. The problem is not so much that I'm a hoarder, I think it's that my knitting ambitions far outstrip my abilities!
I thought I had it all pretty much under control: a handful of skeins of sock yarn; some alpaca I'd purchased at a show; the Heathland Hebridean kit DH gave me for Christmas; the white Corrodale I bought to make him a sweater; some leftovers from other projects; a couple of projects-worth for summer tops I'd planned to make this year.
Then, a couple of months ago, I decided to get serious and use Ravelry for the purpose for which it was designed: as a tool to log my stash, my patterns and my projects. The results are a revelation. And a shock!
OMG!
I have 55 different yarns in my stash. FIFTY FIVE YARNS! And there are one or two yarns that haven't made it onto Ravelry yet. OK, 25 are sock yarns and, usually, 1 skein each, but still.... That is one hell of a lot of yarn.
It started with shows. I've spent most of my knitting time in isolation, without a yarn shop for miles, so for a while I'd keep a list of the projects I wanted to knit and their yarn requirements and buy when I got to a shop or went to a show. (All reasonable behaviour.) Then a couple of years ago, the list ran out, so I started buying projects-worth of yarn when I saw something I fancied that I could afford at a show (the 700g of DK alpaca that in total cost less than £35 falls into this category). At each show, I'd buy something: a bargain; a rare wool; something I wouldn't see in a regular yarn shop. Even so, I thought I could handle it.
I was given gift vouchers to an on-line yarn shop. Problem: you could only use one voucher per purchase and I had been given 5 x £10. Generally, I prefer to buy yarn that I've fondled in real life. The exception is sock yarn, because it isn't a total disaster if one skein turns out to be not what I was expecting. Result: I spent them all on skeins of sock yarn.
Things snowballed a bit, so last year at the I-Knit-London Day, I came home with a haul of yarn: the 20 balls of Corrodale, the sweater kit that DH bought (and immediately hid from me until Christmas), 100g/1000 yards of heavy lace-weight cashmere (a lace cardigan's worth, hopefully), two skeins of Wagtail Mohair. That's 4 sweater's worth of yarn in my book.
Then in March, I got a bit carried away when Black Sheep Wools had a sale of Sublime's Angora DK. I ended up buying 3 sweater's worth in 3 different colourways (blue, pink and white). A bit extreme, but it was less than £2 a ball and sooo soft! I tell myself that if the first colour (giggle pink) I'd bought had been exactly what I wanted, I may have stopped with one, but I couldn't decide....
That was followed in June, when I got an email from Australia: Morris & Sons were having a sale. The lovely Cleckheaton Country 12-ply I'd bought to finish off the Must Have Cardigan was going for £14 a bag! Two bags of black were in my shopping cart and purchased before you could sing "Advance Australia Fair". It's currently on a ship, somewhere between here and Sydney, hopefully with the packet of Arnott's Mint Slices I requested.
No wonder I can't shut the stash!
I've already decided that this has to stop. I can't continue buying yarn and not using it up. So I hereby vow the following:-
With the exception of the Rowan Cocoon for which I have a project planned, I, Pipney-Jane, will not buy any more yarn until August 2010. I will only buy the Cocoon if I can find it for less than £6 a ball AND I have finished DH's sweater (not yet cast on).
This will be hard. I have two yarn shows on the horizon this autumn: the I-Knit London Day and the Knit & Stitch Show at Alexandra Palace. Wish me luck.
- Pam
PS: Yes, sock yarn counts.
PPS: It's not all in Ravelry - I'm about 98% done, but so far, the grand totals are:-
24 Different Sock Yarns, inc:
5 leftovers from socks2 "fillers" for socks (used for feet)
21 sweaters' worth, inc
2 WIPs
6 destined for tanks/t-shirts/tops1 sweater for DH
And quite a few odd balls, potential scarves, leftovers, etc.
Monday, 3 August 2009
An Opera was Attended
Yesterday evening, DH and I went to the opera at Glyndebourne, as guests of some old friends who are members of the Festival Society, which guarantees them access to the much sort after tickets. It was a magical evening.
Glyndebourne is the original country house opera - a privately funded opera house built in the grounds of a country mansion. The audience picnic in the gardens before the production and/or during interval (interval length depends on the number of acts in the opera. Last night, our interval lasted over an hour). Everyone is in black tie - the men wear tuxedos and the women cocktail dresses.
Paul and Shelagh provided the food and we provided the drinks (Pimms, chardonnay, Schloer for the drivers). No other drink typifies an English summer more than Pimms!
Here is a shot of our hosts:
And one of me and DH:
Yes, it was cold after the sun went down.
Last night's production was Donizetti's L'elisir d'amore. The story line is pretty basic: boy loves girl above his social station; girl doesn't care for him but teases him unmercifully; boy decides to give girl cold shoulder; girl get engaged to someone else to teach boy a lesson; eventually girl declares her love for boy and all live happily ever after. The plot doesn't really matter, though - the music is beautiful. Glyndebourne updated the staging to the 1940's, with the hero acting as an electrician.
I haven't been to the opera for at least 4 years (since the last time Paul and Shelagh invited us to Glyndebourne). This time, we enjoyed it so much that I've put my name down on the waiting list for associate membership. I wish I'd done it earlier - only 15 years to wait. :o)
- Pam
Glyndebourne is the original country house opera - a privately funded opera house built in the grounds of a country mansion. The audience picnic in the gardens before the production and/or during interval (interval length depends on the number of acts in the opera. Last night, our interval lasted over an hour). Everyone is in black tie - the men wear tuxedos and the women cocktail dresses.
Paul and Shelagh provided the food and we provided the drinks (Pimms, chardonnay, Schloer for the drivers). No other drink typifies an English summer more than Pimms!
Here is a shot of our hosts:
And one of me and DH:
Yes, it was cold after the sun went down.Last night's production was Donizetti's L'elisir d'amore. The story line is pretty basic: boy loves girl above his social station; girl doesn't care for him but teases him unmercifully; boy decides to give girl cold shoulder; girl get engaged to someone else to teach boy a lesson; eventually girl declares her love for boy and all live happily ever after. The plot doesn't really matter, though - the music is beautiful. Glyndebourne updated the staging to the 1940's, with the hero acting as an electrician.
I haven't been to the opera for at least 4 years (since the last time Paul and Shelagh invited us to Glyndebourne). This time, we enjoyed it so much that I've put my name down on the waiting list for associate membership. I wish I'd done it earlier - only 15 years to wait. :o)- Pam
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