For most of my working life, the last working day of the month has been Pay Day. This morning, as usual, I did my accounts. Using the cash book pages in my Filofax, I listed my income and my outgoings. While I do this every month, today I had a bigger incentive - having watched the numbers closely in June and July, I made the decision in August to save and invest more money. And now, I wanted to see what the effect would be on my bank account. (Yes, that's right, while I can run scenarios in Excel until the cows come home for work, I never seem to get around to doing it for myself. Wishful thinking numbers, yes [e.g. daydream scenarios of lottery wins]. Real numbers, no.)
So, this morning, I added my salary payment to the balance in my bank account, deducted money for the joint account, my savings accounts, Weight Watchers, Audible, the Housekeeping money, my share ISA, £180 to the Petrol/Diesel Accrual, and £180 to my Money to Live Off. I went to write down the next line:, "credit card repay", and stopped. Staring me in the face was a brutal truth: I'd been too cocky with my calculations when I changed the savings and investment numbers. No matter how many times I added up the numbers - and most of them are the same each month - there was no way I could avoid what I was seeing. If I was to maintain my debt pay down levels something would have to give. I had a shortfall of £35.
£35. Not a huge some of money. There have been times when I've spent that much on a meal out. But it was £35 more than I earn. £35 I don't have.
I stared at the numbers. I started arguing with myself. I baulked at cutting the debt pay-down money. It made me nauseous to think about it. I also rebelled at cutting my savings and investments. Just couldn't do it - that money is needed for future things, important things, for which I have plans. That left little else to choose from: my Sanity Fund? No! Everyone needs a Sanity Fund and mine is only £60/month (earmarked for a pressure canner, clothes and craft supplies). Cut out Weight Watchers? No, even though I don't go to meetings any more, I need access to their website to track my points.
ARRRGGHHH!!!!!
In the end, I decided it'd have to be split equally between my Money To Live Off and the Petrol/Diesel Accrual, which is money I allocate to pay for fuel for the car during the month. £17.50 off each. It's not going to be easy. I'd already cut my Money to Live Off back so that I could save more money. Now it's £162.50 a month to pay for everything I might need and/or want: birthday presents, social events, music for choir, hair cuts, clothes, software, books, DVDs, dental visits, etc, etc. Seems like a lot of money until you realise that a round of four drinks at the pub quiz can cost over £12.
The effects on the Petrol/Diesel Accrual will be even harsher. At current prices, it's down to little more than 4 tanks-worth of diesel a month. I usually go through one tank a week in a normal-commute-to-work-week. As long as a tank of diesel stays below £40, then I should have a little time to save up for the next 5-week month. That will be March; September won't qualify because we're taking a holiday and December includes work's Christmas shut down.
Fingers crossed I get a salary increase when the pay reviews are done in December. I'd like my £35 spending money back, please.
- Pam
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
Saturday, 27 August 2011
The Fruits of my Labours
Two weekends ago, DH's best friend sent me a text message: would I like some sloes for sloe gin? "Yes, please," I replied. Monday night, he arrived at our door with 2kg of sloes and a further 3.5kg of crab apples. Unfortunately, he picked one of my busier weeks. I would only have Saturday with which to make anything.
On Saturday, I started the process of making crab apple jelly: washed, chopped and boiled the fruit, then drained it through a jelly bag. (Note: copying an idea from the Cottage Small Holder, I added dried chillies to the fruit before I boiled it, in order to add a bit of zing.)
Saturday night while the apple juice dripped, we made sloe gin, pricking the sloes while sitting on the couch watching the football highlights from Match of the Day. The recipe is from a wonderful website, Sloe.biz. (In case you've never encountered them, sloes are small, very sour members of the plum family, native to Britain.) The sloes will macerate in the gin for another three months before I attempt to decant them and make sloe gin chocolates .
Sunday, I only had time to put the drained juice into the fridge, dump the pulp into a bowl and refrigerate that too. Fast forward to this morning, when I finally had time to make jelly.
The above was two hours hard work, plus several hours tracking down jars. Hopefully the condensation won't be a problem in the clip-lid jars. The others are sealed with wax circles and cellophane.
Tonight, I'll rub the pulp through a sieve and make Crab Apple Chilli Cheese, another Cottage Small Holder recipe. Hopefully, I can rustle up enough jars.
- Pam
On Saturday, I started the process of making crab apple jelly: washed, chopped and boiled the fruit, then drained it through a jelly bag. (Note: copying an idea from the Cottage Small Holder, I added dried chillies to the fruit before I boiled it, in order to add a bit of zing.)
Saturday night while the apple juice dripped, we made sloe gin, pricking the sloes while sitting on the couch watching the football highlights from Match of the Day. The recipe is from a wonderful website, Sloe.biz. (In case you've never encountered them, sloes are small, very sour members of the plum family, native to Britain.) The sloes will macerate in the gin for another three months before I attempt to decant them and make sloe gin chocolates .
Sunday, I only had time to put the drained juice into the fridge, dump the pulp into a bowl and refrigerate that too. Fast forward to this morning, when I finally had time to make jelly.
The above was two hours hard work, plus several hours tracking down jars. Hopefully the condensation won't be a problem in the clip-lid jars. The others are sealed with wax circles and cellophane.
Tonight, I'll rub the pulp through a sieve and make Crab Apple Chilli Cheese, another Cottage Small Holder recipe. Hopefully, I can rustle up enough jars.
- Pam
Friday, 26 August 2011
How this Child of the Sun keeps warm in the cold
(Thanks to sheep, basically.)
A couple of weeks ago, my darling older sister sent me a white woollen cowl for my birthday. It's lovely and snuggly and came with an unspoken message, "This is to keep you warm in that cold country where you live". (That's OK. We both feel the cold. I knit her socks. She moved to Queensland to keep warm; inexplicably to her, I moved to Britain and revel when it snows.)
The week before my birthday, it was warm - really warm, the sort of summer days we don't see very often in Britain, when your limbs are bathed in warm air and the sun shines. It reminded me that I am a child of the Sun; I was born at the beginning of spring in a land where spring last a month and summer goes on and on and on. (Melbourne's spring is August, remember.) My favourite Greek god is Apollo. When I feel sunshine on my face, it makes me smile. Sunshine always lifts my mood.
Thursday of last week, London was colder than Melbourne. Today, it rained again. Our summer has deteriorated into a stereotypical British one.
My love affair with wool began when I was a child. Although winter is short in Oz, it is relatively cold in the southern states and it does snow on high ground. We have excellent ski fields. Growing up, it was very rare for houses to have central heating. Schools did. Offices and public buildings did. But most homes relied on a single heater in the lounge. If temperature was considered at all when they were built, it was with a view to keeping the house cool in summer. Winter wasn't usually a consideration.
My grade 2 teacher, Mrs Cooper, taught all our class to knit, both girls and boys. It enchanted me. Begging yarn from my mum, I created something that, in theory, was meant to become a scarf but turned into some weird trapezoid shape instead. Two years later, I knitted my first jumper, something mustard coloured in acrylic. It was probably Red Heart. Three or four projects later, I graduated to pure wool. I've knitted dozens of projects since and wool is always my first choice fibre.
During my first 10 years in the UK, I mainly lived in properties that didn't have central heating. In winter, I had a recurring dream. I'd dream of merino sheep about to be sheared. The shearer would turn the sheep onto its back and, instead of being sheared, the sheep would wriggle out of a sheepskin coat. Once free of the coat, it looked the same as if it had been sheared. I wanted that coat. I craved that coat. But there was nowhere to buy one in Britain and I probably couldn't afford it anyway if I did find one. In Oz, I could buy sheepskin moccasins at the market but I was told "Skinny's" had gone bankrupt and with that went the only source of sheepskin coats I knew. (On every visit to Melbourne, I go to the Queen Victoria Market and buy another pair of moccasins; it is almost a ritual.)
I'd acquired my first sheepskin mittens a.k.a. ugg gloves, when I was 10. It was the mid-1970's and sheepskin gloves, mittens, coats and boots were all the rage. (There were ugg boots and gloves long before Brian Smith trade marked the name in the USA.). We always had sheepskin moccasin slippers
Throughout my early British winters, I wished for those mittens. When I went home for my mum's funeral in 1994, they were one of the things I brought back in my hand luggage. In winter, my hands were always cold. The mittens were fine, but you had to take them off to do anything dexterous, such as turn the pages of a book or dig out your train pass. Inevitably, I spent a fortune on gloves, trying to find the magical pair that would keep my hands warm. Finally, in about 1997, I scored a pair of sheepskin gloves. They were (and are) wonderful. I wore them until the stitching around the thumb gave out, then put them away until I could fix them, which I did last winter.
I also worked my way through multiple coats; always trying to find one warmer than the last. It's really hard finding a cloth coat that the wind can't penetrate. That took forever to achieve; eventually, I found a cashmere and wool blend, Cossack-style coat in a shop in Ealing. Sadly, after 13 winters of being worn to work, it's beginning to die. At the very least, the pure silk lining needs to be replaced.
The advent of the internet was a godsend for my cold feet. I found a British company that made sheepskin products, Celtic Sheepskin. I can't speak more highly of this company. DH gave me a pair of their "Celt boots" for Christmas 4 or 5 years ago. Another present was a pair of sheepskin slippers, which he gave me when my last pair of Aussie moccasins gave out. Last year, I treated myself to a pair of their sheepskin lined walking boots; perfect for going to the football on cold winters days. These are all my "sheep feet"; a wardrobe of sheepskin footwear, wonderful on cold winter's days when I need to go out or indoors when I don't want to turn up the central heating.
While I lust after their coats, in particular their toscana ones, I'd need to win the lottery to afford one. Instead, I've had lucky charity shop finds. Seven years ago, I found a cream, hooded, sheepskin car-coat. Asking price, £12. The zip was broken and the pockets were full of rubbish. I pointed out the broken zip; they sold it to me for half price. A replacement zip cost £5 and several hours of swearing. Dry-cleaning was £35 (and I got complements for my zip replacement job from the drycleaner). This is "the sheep", which I wear to football and for other freezing-cold-but-casual occasions.
Winter 2009, I scored another sheepskin coat in another charity shop! This time, it was a slim-fitting, 3/4 length chocolate brown toscana coat. My hands shook as I paid them the £15 asking price, since I knew it'd retail for closer to £800 (I didn't tell them that). It's shorter than I'd like (my legs get cold), but the only major downside is no pockets. It's my other "wear to work" coat.
I've always had a daydream that, one day, I'd keep my own sheep. Looking at the list of sheepskin products I have above, I think I've already got 2 or 3. And these ones don't need feeding. Or shearing. :o)
- Pam (got 10 or 20 more sheep in the stash, but we won't go there today)
A couple of weeks ago, my darling older sister sent me a white woollen cowl for my birthday. It's lovely and snuggly and came with an unspoken message, "This is to keep you warm in that cold country where you live". (That's OK. We both feel the cold. I knit her socks. She moved to Queensland to keep warm; inexplicably to her, I moved to Britain and revel when it snows.)
The week before my birthday, it was warm - really warm, the sort of summer days we don't see very often in Britain, when your limbs are bathed in warm air and the sun shines. It reminded me that I am a child of the Sun; I was born at the beginning of spring in a land where spring last a month and summer goes on and on and on. (Melbourne's spring is August, remember.) My favourite Greek god is Apollo. When I feel sunshine on my face, it makes me smile. Sunshine always lifts my mood.
Thursday of last week, London was colder than Melbourne. Today, it rained again. Our summer has deteriorated into a stereotypical British one.
My love affair with wool began when I was a child. Although winter is short in Oz, it is relatively cold in the southern states and it does snow on high ground. We have excellent ski fields. Growing up, it was very rare for houses to have central heating. Schools did. Offices and public buildings did. But most homes relied on a single heater in the lounge. If temperature was considered at all when they were built, it was with a view to keeping the house cool in summer. Winter wasn't usually a consideration.
My grade 2 teacher, Mrs Cooper, taught all our class to knit, both girls and boys. It enchanted me. Begging yarn from my mum, I created something that, in theory, was meant to become a scarf but turned into some weird trapezoid shape instead. Two years later, I knitted my first jumper, something mustard coloured in acrylic. It was probably Red Heart. Three or four projects later, I graduated to pure wool. I've knitted dozens of projects since and wool is always my first choice fibre.
During my first 10 years in the UK, I mainly lived in properties that didn't have central heating. In winter, I had a recurring dream. I'd dream of merino sheep about to be sheared. The shearer would turn the sheep onto its back and, instead of being sheared, the sheep would wriggle out of a sheepskin coat. Once free of the coat, it looked the same as if it had been sheared. I wanted that coat. I craved that coat. But there was nowhere to buy one in Britain and I probably couldn't afford it anyway if I did find one. In Oz, I could buy sheepskin moccasins at the market but I was told "Skinny's" had gone bankrupt and with that went the only source of sheepskin coats I knew. (On every visit to Melbourne, I go to the Queen Victoria Market and buy another pair of moccasins; it is almost a ritual.)
I'd acquired my first sheepskin mittens a.k.a. ugg gloves, when I was 10. It was the mid-1970's and sheepskin gloves, mittens, coats and boots were all the rage. (There were ugg boots and gloves long before Brian Smith trade marked the name in the USA.). We always had sheepskin moccasin slippers
Throughout my early British winters, I wished for those mittens. When I went home for my mum's funeral in 1994, they were one of the things I brought back in my hand luggage. In winter, my hands were always cold. The mittens were fine, but you had to take them off to do anything dexterous, such as turn the pages of a book or dig out your train pass. Inevitably, I spent a fortune on gloves, trying to find the magical pair that would keep my hands warm. Finally, in about 1997, I scored a pair of sheepskin gloves. They were (and are) wonderful. I wore them until the stitching around the thumb gave out, then put them away until I could fix them, which I did last winter.
I also worked my way through multiple coats; always trying to find one warmer than the last. It's really hard finding a cloth coat that the wind can't penetrate. That took forever to achieve; eventually, I found a cashmere and wool blend, Cossack-style coat in a shop in Ealing. Sadly, after 13 winters of being worn to work, it's beginning to die. At the very least, the pure silk lining needs to be replaced.
The advent of the internet was a godsend for my cold feet. I found a British company that made sheepskin products, Celtic Sheepskin. I can't speak more highly of this company. DH gave me a pair of their "Celt boots" for Christmas 4 or 5 years ago. Another present was a pair of sheepskin slippers, which he gave me when my last pair of Aussie moccasins gave out. Last year, I treated myself to a pair of their sheepskin lined walking boots; perfect for going to the football on cold winters days. These are all my "sheep feet"; a wardrobe of sheepskin footwear, wonderful on cold winter's days when I need to go out or indoors when I don't want to turn up the central heating.
While I lust after their coats, in particular their toscana ones, I'd need to win the lottery to afford one. Instead, I've had lucky charity shop finds. Seven years ago, I found a cream, hooded, sheepskin car-coat. Asking price, £12. The zip was broken and the pockets were full of rubbish. I pointed out the broken zip; they sold it to me for half price. A replacement zip cost £5 and several hours of swearing. Dry-cleaning was £35 (and I got complements for my zip replacement job from the drycleaner). This is "the sheep", which I wear to football and for other freezing-cold-but-casual occasions.
Winter 2009, I scored another sheepskin coat in another charity shop! This time, it was a slim-fitting, 3/4 length chocolate brown toscana coat. My hands shook as I paid them the £15 asking price, since I knew it'd retail for closer to £800 (I didn't tell them that). It's shorter than I'd like (my legs get cold), but the only major downside is no pockets. It's my other "wear to work" coat.
I've always had a daydream that, one day, I'd keep my own sheep. Looking at the list of sheepskin products I have above, I think I've already got 2 or 3. And these ones don't need feeding. Or shearing. :o)
- Pam (got 10 or 20 more sheep in the stash, but we won't go there today)
Thursday, 18 August 2011
Proms were attended
Thursday night, DH and I went to the Proms, where we saw the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra perform together with Dejan Lazic play Brahms' 'Piano Concerto No. 3' in D major (reworked from the violin concerto), and Julian Lloyd-Webber play Holst's Invocation. The music was beautiful but, seriously, Julian, you're 62 - get a decent haircut!
The highlight was Elgar's Enigma Variations, glorious as always. Nimrod was over far too fast. My other favourite movement is the one describing Dan the dog falling into the river and barking when he got out (see the program notes available on the above link). It is very evocative.
Friday night was another Prom, the Film Music Prom performed by the BBC Concert Orchestra. It started life as part of a celebration of ten years of Wittertainment a.k.a. Mark Kermode's and Simon Mayo's film reviews (available on BBC Radio 5 and as podcasts on i-Tunes. Well worth a listen). A couple of weeks ago, I caught up with the podcast episode where Mark, Simon, Keith Lockhart (the conductor) and some guests debated what music to include. It was a pleasure to finally hear it all performed live.
Highlights? Star Wars, of course. And the theme music from Murder on the Orient Express has been playing in my head for the last few days. Also, having not seen the film, I didn't realise that the shower scene in Psycho went on for so long or that the knife was wielded quite so many times.
Finally, on Saturday, we went to the Comedy Prom which was lead by Tim Minchin. Lots of comic songs and very funny guests (Kit and the Widow are brilliant. So are the Mongrels, I'd like to catch their BBC TV series now). It'll be broadcast on BBC2 on August 27th and I'll be taping it to watch again.
- Pam
PS: Prom Socks were knitted throughout these events. When you sit in the gods (a.k.a. the Circle) the performers can't see you, so knitting quietly on wooden needles (no clack-clack) is fine.
The highlight was Elgar's Enigma Variations, glorious as always. Nimrod was over far too fast. My other favourite movement is the one describing Dan the dog falling into the river and barking when he got out (see the program notes available on the above link). It is very evocative.
Friday night was another Prom, the Film Music Prom performed by the BBC Concert Orchestra. It started life as part of a celebration of ten years of Wittertainment a.k.a. Mark Kermode's and Simon Mayo's film reviews (available on BBC Radio 5 and as podcasts on i-Tunes. Well worth a listen). A couple of weeks ago, I caught up with the podcast episode where Mark, Simon, Keith Lockhart (the conductor) and some guests debated what music to include. It was a pleasure to finally hear it all performed live.
Highlights? Star Wars, of course. And the theme music from Murder on the Orient Express has been playing in my head for the last few days. Also, having not seen the film, I didn't realise that the shower scene in Psycho went on for so long or that the knife was wielded quite so many times.
Finally, on Saturday, we went to the Comedy Prom which was lead by Tim Minchin. Lots of comic songs and very funny guests (Kit and the Widow are brilliant. So are the Mongrels, I'd like to catch their BBC TV series now). It'll be broadcast on BBC2 on August 27th and I'll be taping it to watch again.
- Pam
PS: Prom Socks were knitted throughout these events. When you sit in the gods (a.k.a. the Circle) the performers can't see you, so knitting quietly on wooden needles (no clack-clack) is fine.
Wednesday, 27 July 2011
True confessions of a yarn addict
I really should stay away from yarn shops.
At lunchtime today, I went to Hobbycraft to buy a couple of row counters. All the ones I've got are in use and I'll need one for my next project. Naturally, I browsed the yarn aisles, while I was there. I had to - the knitting notions were buried in the middle. I wasn't looking for anything - normally, I can resist the yarns at Hobbycraft because many have that cheap-and-nasty plastic acrylic feel. Not today.
On an end-cap, I found a shelf of something that intrigued me: Palette's Vintage, a worsted weight 70% wool, 30% soy blend. The label knocked me for six - you never see a yarn labeled "worsted" in this country, it just doesn't exist. If you didn't like brown, there wasn't a huge number of other skeins: 9 white ("Macadamia"), 6 blue ("Enamel"), 9 red ("Red Bud") and 20-odd brown ("Otter"). But there was no price. I nabbed a shop assistant, who checked - it was 99p a ball and the stuff on the shelf was all they had.
The yarn-lust took hold of me. Worsted weight? Less than a Pound a ball? And it's 70% wool? I stared at it for a few minutes. Was there enough to make a sweater? I did a swift calculation in my head, 9 balls at 125m/ball is 1125 metres of yarn. Not quite enough for, say, a Must Have Cardigan. I scrabbled on my phone to access Ravelry; was there anything suitable in my favourites that didn't use much yarn? Amy Christoffers' Acer Cardigan fitted the bill. As did Bonne Marie Burns' Basic Chick V-Neck Cardigan and her Twist. I could knit an entire garment for £8.91! That's my sort of price.
In the end, I couldn't decide between the red and the white. At 99p a ball, I decided I didn't have to.
- Pam (It's not stash enhancement if you have a pattern for it; it's project acquisition)
At lunchtime today, I went to Hobbycraft to buy a couple of row counters. All the ones I've got are in use and I'll need one for my next project. Naturally, I browsed the yarn aisles, while I was there. I had to - the knitting notions were buried in the middle. I wasn't looking for anything - normally, I can resist the yarns at Hobbycraft because many have that cheap-and-nasty plastic acrylic feel. Not today.
On an end-cap, I found a shelf of something that intrigued me: Palette's Vintage, a worsted weight 70% wool, 30% soy blend. The label knocked me for six - you never see a yarn labeled "worsted" in this country, it just doesn't exist. If you didn't like brown, there wasn't a huge number of other skeins: 9 white ("Macadamia"), 6 blue ("Enamel"), 9 red ("Red Bud") and 20-odd brown ("Otter"). But there was no price. I nabbed a shop assistant, who checked - it was 99p a ball and the stuff on the shelf was all they had.
The yarn-lust took hold of me. Worsted weight? Less than a Pound a ball? And it's 70% wool? I stared at it for a few minutes. Was there enough to make a sweater? I did a swift calculation in my head, 9 balls at 125m/ball is 1125 metres of yarn. Not quite enough for, say, a Must Have Cardigan. I scrabbled on my phone to access Ravelry; was there anything suitable in my favourites that didn't use much yarn? Amy Christoffers' Acer Cardigan fitted the bill. As did Bonne Marie Burns' Basic Chick V-Neck Cardigan and her Twist. I could knit an entire garment for £8.91! That's my sort of price.
In the end, I couldn't decide between the red and the white. At 99p a ball, I decided I didn't have to.
- Pam (It's not stash enhancement if you have a pattern for it; it's project acquisition)
Monday, 25 July 2011
Taking frugality to extremes
Louisa at the Really Good Life raised an interesting point on her most recent blog: when you take frugality to extremes, how far is too far? Although I replied over there, I thought I'd spend a minute or two here working out my thoughts on the subject.
To me, extreme frugality is akin to being miserly – it’s forgetting about the “living” part of “living below your means”. If it makes your quality of life suffer, then it’s too extreme. Frugality for me is about making choices that enhance my life but keep me within my budget. Back in March 2009, Channel 4 ran a program, The Hunt for Britain's Tightest Person where a woman demonstrated how to bathe in a bucket in the kitchen - something she had to do because her boiler had been broken for months and she hadn't bothered to get it fixed. She had the money to fix it but she preferred to boil the kettle and wear extra layers in winter rather than spend money on her boiler. Winter 2009 was very cold - we had two weeks where the temperature didn't get to zero - and I remember thinking she'd flipped over the edge from frugal to miser.
For me, frugality is making the best use of your resources. It may be about getting the best price for something, or buying the best quality item you can afford or ensuring you have cash set aside for car repairs, etc. However, it is also about living the best life you can on the budget you've got. It's living a champagne lifestyle but only spending beer money to obtain it. It isn't about depriving yourself for the sake of it or being a martyr to the cause. Yes, you have to make choices because nobody can afford everything, but it's about making the choice to spend money in ways that reflect your goals and dreams.
- Pam
Saturday, 23 July 2011
Entering the Lion's Den AKA Purl City Yarns
On a back street, five minutes walk from Manchester's Piccadilly Gardens, is a knitterly haven: Purl City Yarns. I staggered in there yesterday afternoon laden with laptop, trolley case, etc, and, within seconds, wished it was my LYS. The staff were incredibly friendly and encouraged me to dump my bags by the couch and take a good look round.
When I planned my work trip to Manchester this week, one of the things on my wish-list was this visit to Purl City Yarns. I'd seen their ads in the knitting press as had the other customer who came in while I was there - she'd heard me say as much to the owner and chimed in "me, too!" producing a battered knitting magazine from her bag, open at the page showing their advertisement.
Purl City Yarns stands on a street corner, with windows on both exposed sides. In a former life, I think it was a typical British "corner shop" (think Open All Hours meets an Aussie milk bar). Certainly, it sold ice-creams - the shop's threshold carries an advertisement for them. The walls are covered in shelving, while two welcoming couches occupy the foreground of the shop. The counter is at the back, tucked against the stairs, with their needle and hook displays beyond that. I think, upstairs is a classroom.
The shop is small but very well organised, with yarns displayed by weight and then by brand. They even had a section labeled "Worsted Weight", which is almost impossible to find in this country (we have to substitute Aran, which is fractionally thicker). It was full of yarns I'd only heard about before: Zealana, Noro, Austerman, Drops; as well as ones I know/already own: Blacker Designs yarns, Fiberspates, The Natural Dye Studio and Debbie Bliss. What they don't carry are the standard yarns you can buy at Hobbycraft, i.e. Sirdar and Rowan. Also, I didn't spot any 100% acrylics. (That alone earns them a big gold star in my book - no plastic masquerading as wool. Blech!)
Luckily for my no-stash-enhancement-goal, no yarns leaped out and screamed "buy me". That isn't to say I left the shop empty handed. I didn't. I just wasn't inspired to buy yarn. Instead, I bought the three sizes of crochet hooks I'll need to make the Moth Wing Shrug from last summer's Interweave Crochet and a large bottle of eucalyptus scented Eucalan wool wash.
They've been open since last November and are filling a much-needed void. Knit-Night is Wednesdays, from 5 to 8. Next time I travel to visit my Manchester project team, I plan to be there.
- Pam (giving them 5 out of 5)
When I planned my work trip to Manchester this week, one of the things on my wish-list was this visit to Purl City Yarns. I'd seen their ads in the knitting press as had the other customer who came in while I was there - she'd heard me say as much to the owner and chimed in "me, too!" producing a battered knitting magazine from her bag, open at the page showing their advertisement.
Purl City Yarns stands on a street corner, with windows on both exposed sides. In a former life, I think it was a typical British "corner shop" (think Open All Hours meets an Aussie milk bar). Certainly, it sold ice-creams - the shop's threshold carries an advertisement for them. The walls are covered in shelving, while two welcoming couches occupy the foreground of the shop. The counter is at the back, tucked against the stairs, with their needle and hook displays beyond that. I think, upstairs is a classroom.
The shop is small but very well organised, with yarns displayed by weight and then by brand. They even had a section labeled "Worsted Weight", which is almost impossible to find in this country (we have to substitute Aran, which is fractionally thicker). It was full of yarns I'd only heard about before: Zealana, Noro, Austerman, Drops; as well as ones I know/already own: Blacker Designs yarns, Fiberspates, The Natural Dye Studio and Debbie Bliss. What they don't carry are the standard yarns you can buy at Hobbycraft, i.e. Sirdar and Rowan. Also, I didn't spot any 100% acrylics. (That alone earns them a big gold star in my book - no plastic masquerading as wool. Blech!)
Luckily for my no-stash-enhancement-goal, no yarns leaped out and screamed "buy me". That isn't to say I left the shop empty handed. I didn't. I just wasn't inspired to buy yarn. Instead, I bought the three sizes of crochet hooks I'll need to make the Moth Wing Shrug from last summer's Interweave Crochet and a large bottle of eucalyptus scented Eucalan wool wash.
They've been open since last November and are filling a much-needed void. Knit-Night is Wednesdays, from 5 to 8. Next time I travel to visit my Manchester project team, I plan to be there.
- Pam (giving them 5 out of 5)
Wednesday, 20 July 2011
I broke it!
My beloved Contigo travel mug that is. -(
It is 7am. I'm on the train to Manchester. Going there for 3 day's work. Being frugal, and a coffee snob, I thought it was a good idea to pack my own coffee so I loaded up the Contigo. I rested my mug on my case while I retrieved my ticket from the machine and promptly forgot about it. I was too busy panicking because i'd just realised my train was at 10 to 7 rather than 10 past and I only had a minute to get to the platform! My mug rolled off my case, hit the concrete floor with a heavy "Thunk!", landed on the side of its lid and now leaks.
Thank God I'm wearing a coat because I'm now wearing half my coffee on it!
If I tilt the mug, coffee pours from the self-seal mechanism. If I push the button to drink, it pours out from below the drinking spot, from around the lid. Damn! Damn!! Damn!!!
- Pam
It is 7am. I'm on the train to Manchester. Going there for 3 day's work. Being frugal, and a coffee snob, I thought it was a good idea to pack my own coffee so I loaded up the Contigo. I rested my mug on my case while I retrieved my ticket from the machine and promptly forgot about it. I was too busy panicking because i'd just realised my train was at 10 to 7 rather than 10 past and I only had a minute to get to the platform! My mug rolled off my case, hit the concrete floor with a heavy "Thunk!", landed on the side of its lid and now leaks.
Thank God I'm wearing a coat because I'm now wearing half my coffee on it!
If I tilt the mug, coffee pours from the self-seal mechanism. If I push the button to drink, it pours out from below the drinking spot, from around the lid. Damn! Damn!! Damn!!!
- Pam
Friday, 15 July 2011
Frugal Friday: Sweating Your Assets
There was a thread on Ravelry recently about saving money for the down-payment on a house. It got me thinking about how buying a house is more than just buying the roof over your head. There's a business concept called "sweating your assets", which is where you maximise the usage of your assets to get the most value out of them. The classic business example is where a manufacturing plant introduces a second or third shift in order to make as much product as possible without having to purchase another factory.
How this applies to owning a home is all about making the most of that house and the land it sits on while doing the things that cost nary a penny. Our house is tiny by American/Australian standards, coming in at less than 900 square feet (that's less than 9 "squares" in Australian terminology). Our back garden is approximately 70 feet long by 22 feet wide, including the patio and a concrete pad at the far end. Thanks to the shared drive, our front garden is even narrower and about 15 feet deep.
Sweating our assets means maximising our living space and our storage space while still living within the footprint of our house, so that our home is a welcoming, happy and efficient place to be. Consider the layout of your home, would the lounge work better if you moved the door six feet to the left? Ours does. And it makes the room look much bigger as a result.
It's about having a productive but pretty garden, growing vegetables and fruit trees alongside the flowering shrubs, a la Alys Fowler or Mother Chaos or The Cottage Smallholder, so that we can lower ourfood bill, do our bit for the environment, acquire a hobby and improve our quality of living all in one stroke. One thing I have to do this weekend is phone the garden designer whose services I won in a charity auction and book my alotted hour of her time. Hopefully, she'll give me a managable plan for the wilderness we own. (If I could borrow anyone for a week, it would be Alys Fowler. I always loved her segments on Gardeners World, I love her writing (see these posts for the BBC) and I wish she was back on our TV screens.)
And, finally, it's about using things that are free or that I've already paid for instead of forking out my hard earned cash for something new. It's asking myself: "Do I need a new dress/shoes/whatever?" when there are four perfectly good ones in the wardrobe that only need an iron to become presentable and usable again. Oh, and using one of these to dry our wash efficiently in the garden instead of running the drier (we don't even own one).
- Pam
How this applies to owning a home is all about making the most of that house and the land it sits on while doing the things that cost nary a penny. Our house is tiny by American/Australian standards, coming in at less than 900 square feet (that's less than 9 "squares" in Australian terminology). Our back garden is approximately 70 feet long by 22 feet wide, including the patio and a concrete pad at the far end. Thanks to the shared drive, our front garden is even narrower and about 15 feet deep.
Sweating our assets means maximising our living space and our storage space while still living within the footprint of our house, so that our home is a welcoming, happy and efficient place to be. Consider the layout of your home, would the lounge work better if you moved the door six feet to the left? Ours does. And it makes the room look much bigger as a result.
It's about having a productive but pretty garden, growing vegetables and fruit trees alongside the flowering shrubs, a la Alys Fowler or Mother Chaos or The Cottage Smallholder, so that we can lower ourfood bill, do our bit for the environment, acquire a hobby and improve our quality of living all in one stroke. One thing I have to do this weekend is phone the garden designer whose services I won in a charity auction and book my alotted hour of her time. Hopefully, she'll give me a managable plan for the wilderness we own. (If I could borrow anyone for a week, it would be Alys Fowler. I always loved her segments on Gardeners World, I love her writing (see these posts for the BBC) and I wish she was back on our TV screens.)
And, finally, it's about using things that are free or that I've already paid for instead of forking out my hard earned cash for something new. It's asking myself: "Do I need a new dress/shoes/whatever?" when there are four perfectly good ones in the wardrobe that only need an iron to become presentable and usable again. Oh, and using one of these to dry our wash efficiently in the garden instead of running the drier (we don't even own one).
- Pam
Wednesday, 22 June 2011
Cut off
I left my mobile phone at home this morning. It's amazing how bereft I feel without it, considering that I can count on one hand the number of phone calls I make on it during the average working week. But it's my main way of communicating with DH during the day.
I realise it's the ability to communicate easily with him that I miss. Sure he can call my work number and I've got his mobile number if I need to call him, but I can't dash off a quick text about something unimportant but informative (e.g. "Went to butcher, bought x, y & z for freezer" or "dinner tonight, will cook Y. If you get home before me, please chop onions, mushrooms & garlic"). I use texts for things that aren't time sensitive but keep him informed about what I'm up to or to make him smile; the sort of things you'd use an email for but he doesn't regularly access his email during the day.
Today, I'd like to wish DH luck when he gives blood this afternoon. And to tell him that I'll try packing "Junior", my carry-on suitcase when I get home so that he doesn't have to dig the next largest one out of storage.
[ sigh ]
I'll just have to remember to tell him when I get home.
- Pam
I realise it's the ability to communicate easily with him that I miss. Sure he can call my work number and I've got his mobile number if I need to call him, but I can't dash off a quick text about something unimportant but informative (e.g. "Went to butcher, bought x, y & z for freezer" or "dinner tonight, will cook Y. If you get home before me, please chop onions, mushrooms & garlic"). I use texts for things that aren't time sensitive but keep him informed about what I'm up to or to make him smile; the sort of things you'd use an email for but he doesn't regularly access his email during the day.
Today, I'd like to wish DH luck when he gives blood this afternoon. And to tell him that I'll try packing "Junior", my carry-on suitcase when I get home so that he doesn't have to dig the next largest one out of storage.
[ sigh ]
I'll just have to remember to tell him when I get home.
- Pam
Friday, 17 June 2011
Hello Stranger
I can't believe it's been 3 weeks since I blogged! Where did the time go?
So, what have I been up to? In chronological order, I've: sung in a concert; helped run a games convention; found some RPG-playing knitters and co-foundered The Order of the Pointy Sticks ("greetings fellow Minions!"); driven to/from Scotland to attend DH's best friend's father's funeral; rehearsed for a concert in France; watched England play Switzerland at Wembley; gardened a bit; spent the day with a friend from the Motley Fool who was en-route to Portugal; visited the BBC; and knitted a lot. I'll give you some potted highlights.
The Concert
On Saturday 21st May, my choir performed Purcell's Funeral Music for Queen Mary; Holst's Choral Fantasia, Rutter's Psalm 150 and the Rutter Gloria. Although the Rutter was lovely ("Utterly Rutterly" according to our conductor), a lot of the concert was music to slit your wrists by: sorrowful, heartfelt and full of pain. Perfect music for Goths. This is particularly true of the Choral Fantasia, which I keep referring to as "A hymn for the damned".
Given that I was mourning one death and expecting another, I found the drum and brass intro to the Purcell to be especially painful. If you need a choir and brass ensemble for a funeral, let me know.... In the meantime, we leave on concert tour on Thursday. We're off to Nancy to sing Faure's Requiem with the Choeur Nancy Ducale on Saturday night.
The Games Convention and the Order of the Pointy Sticks
Shadow-Con is two days of RPG's, mayhem and dice whichdrives DH to distraction DH organises every Spring Bank Holiday Weekend, aided and abetted by a group of press-ganged willing volunteers. This year was more fraught than normal because BF was already in Scotland, having dashed up when his dad took a turn for the worse, and thus could not do his usual share of the workload (printing tickets, manning the front desk, buying some of the stuff for the Tuck Shop, setting up on the Friday night and operating the heart of the sun a.k.a. the coal-fired barbecue we use on the Saturday night of the Con). DH shouldered most of it.
My usual chores are manning the Tuck Shop, ordering and fetching the meat for the barbecue and doing the Saturday morning bacon butty run. This year, I spent several hours re-creating the tickets (unobtainable because the file/template is on BF's computer), shopped for Tuck Shop and barbecue (I was comparison shopping for the barbecue when I found the Arnott's BBQ Shapes) helped set up on the Friday night, ordered outdoor lighting for the barbecue. My reward: I got to listen to the cricket when I was in the Tuck Shop and I got to play in a couple of games for free.
I was on duty in the Tuck Shop on the Saturday, and knitting on my latest sock, when I discovered TWO MORE crafters: a knitter and a crochetter. I'd already outed a third in a Cthulhu game about 9 months ago, and before Saturday was over the four of us girls were talking patterns, comparing projects and swapping Ravelry IDs. By close of play on Sunday, we'd formed The Order of the Pointy Sticks and started trying to arrange meet ups. After ten years of wishing, Ladies and Gentlemen, I've found a knitting group.
Lots and lots of knitting
The body and sleeves of the Willow sweater are done.
After weeks of easy motoring, I'm now working on the yoke. It's a complex, cabled pattern, knitted sideways, that isn't charted. I don't think it can be because of the numerous short rows. This is the first time in ages, I've had to work cables from the written pattern and it's hard. I'm sure it requires far more concentration than working from a chart. If anyone knows how to chart short rows, please let me know, I've got 8 repeats of 45 rows of this.
In the meantime, I needed something more mindless to knit while playing RPG's on Sundays, so I cast on the Three Hour Sweater in Rowan's RYC Cotton Jeans from my stash. The colourway is Blue Wash. This pattern is famous/infamous on Ravelry: it's a vintage, 1930's sweater knitted on big needles to fit a vintage size 16 (supposedly a modern US size 8). The gauge is 4 stitches to the inch. The needle sizes given in the pattern are obviously modern add-ons - 1930's Americans didn't use the metric system.
So, what have I been up to? In chronological order, I've: sung in a concert; helped run a games convention; found some RPG-playing knitters and co-foundered The Order of the Pointy Sticks ("greetings fellow Minions!"); driven to/from Scotland to attend DH's best friend's father's funeral; rehearsed for a concert in France; watched England play Switzerland at Wembley; gardened a bit; spent the day with a friend from the Motley Fool who was en-route to Portugal; visited the BBC; and knitted a lot. I'll give you some potted highlights.
The Concert
On Saturday 21st May, my choir performed Purcell's Funeral Music for Queen Mary; Holst's Choral Fantasia, Rutter's Psalm 150 and the Rutter Gloria. Although the Rutter was lovely ("Utterly Rutterly" according to our conductor), a lot of the concert was music to slit your wrists by: sorrowful, heartfelt and full of pain. Perfect music for Goths. This is particularly true of the Choral Fantasia, which I keep referring to as "A hymn for the damned".
Given that I was mourning one death and expecting another, I found the drum and brass intro to the Purcell to be especially painful. If you need a choir and brass ensemble for a funeral, let me know.... In the meantime, we leave on concert tour on Thursday. We're off to Nancy to sing Faure's Requiem with the Choeur Nancy Ducale on Saturday night.
The Games Convention and the Order of the Pointy Sticks
Shadow-Con is two days of RPG's, mayhem and dice which
My usual chores are manning the Tuck Shop, ordering and fetching the meat for the barbecue and doing the Saturday morning bacon butty run. This year, I spent several hours re-creating the tickets (unobtainable because the file/template is on BF's computer), shopped for Tuck Shop and barbecue (I was comparison shopping for the barbecue when I found the Arnott's BBQ Shapes) helped set up on the Friday night, ordered outdoor lighting for the barbecue. My reward: I got to listen to the cricket when I was in the Tuck Shop and I got to play in a couple of games for free.
I was on duty in the Tuck Shop on the Saturday, and knitting on my latest sock, when I discovered TWO MORE crafters: a knitter and a crochetter. I'd already outed a third in a Cthulhu game about 9 months ago, and before Saturday was over the four of us girls were talking patterns, comparing projects and swapping Ravelry IDs. By close of play on Sunday, we'd formed The Order of the Pointy Sticks and started trying to arrange meet ups. After ten years of wishing, Ladies and Gentlemen, I've found a knitting group.
Lots and lots of knitting
The body and sleeves of the Willow sweater are done.
In the meantime, I needed something more mindless to knit while playing RPG's on Sundays, so I cast on the Three Hour Sweater in Rowan's RYC Cotton Jeans from my stash. The colourway is Blue Wash. This pattern is famous/infamous on Ravelry: it's a vintage, 1930's sweater knitted on big needles to fit a vintage size 16 (supposedly a modern US size 8). The gauge is 4 stitches to the inch. The needle sizes given in the pattern are obviously modern add-ons - 1930's Americans didn't use the metric system.
(I'm knitting it in the round instead of flat.) Most knitters have had to modify it to fit their size, including me - my modifications can be found here. So far, it's taken me about 8 hours.
And, finally, here are my latest socks for DH in Lang's Jawoll Magic.
Simple, plain vanilla, mindless socks. Yay!
- PamWednesday, 25 May 2011
News flash!
Asda sell Arnott's BBQ Shapes! Yay!
Sadly did not spot Tim Tams. Boo!
Still better than nothing for this expat Aussie.
- Pam (the great Tim Tam quest continues)
Sadly did not spot Tim Tams. Boo!
Still better than nothing for this expat Aussie.
- Pam (the great Tim Tam quest continues)
Sunday, 22 May 2011
It's the end of the world as we know it, and I'm feeling fine....
Except, it hasn't ended. If you were a follower of Harold Camping, how foolish would you feel now?
It's people like Camping that make me hate fundamentalists, people who ask you to believe without question, without providing evidence. More to the point, how many fundamentalist preachers ask their followers to bankroll them? (And make themselves rich off their labours of their much poorer followers.) A lot, particularly in the States. Remember Jim and Tammy Bakker? Their followers paid for solid gold taps in their bathroom. And they aren't the only ones - Wikipedia has a long list of scandals, some financial, some sexual, where preachers have used and abused their positions of power.
- Pam (wondering how Camping will wriggle out of it this time.)
It's people like Camping that make me hate fundamentalists, people who ask you to believe without question, without providing evidence. More to the point, how many fundamentalist preachers ask their followers to bankroll them? (And make themselves rich off their labours of their much poorer followers.) A lot, particularly in the States. Remember Jim and Tammy Bakker? Their followers paid for solid gold taps in their bathroom. And they aren't the only ones - Wikipedia has a long list of scandals, some financial, some sexual, where preachers have used and abused their positions of power.
- Pam (wondering how Camping will wriggle out of it this time.)
Saturday, 21 May 2011
Knitting photos
A new use for garden furniture:
This is DH's new sweater drying in the shade in garden. I don't have a sweater dryer but our garden furniture is made our of a coated mesh, which works beautifully.
The body of the Willow jumper, knitted in the round:
The sleeves at 39cm/15.5 inches, knitted in the round, two at at time, using magic loop:
(No idea why these two photos are such different colours - they were taken seconds apart in exactly the same place without the use of the flash.)
Only once before have I ever tried to knit sleeves two at a time and that was just a couple of inches on a jumper my sister had started but fallen out of love with. I hated it. The stitches were crammed on the needle (she was using 14 inch straights) and the two balls of yarn kept tangling. It put me off for at least 30 years. However, I was listening to the Knitmore Girls and Jasmin kept singing the praises of knitting sleeves in the round, two at a time using magic loop, so I thought I'd give it a go. After all, what could be better than a) sleeves that are identical in both length and increases, and b) no seams to sew?
Apart from a bit of pfaffing around setting it all up on the needle, I'm a convert. Without any effort, the yarn isn't tangling. Even my annoyance has worn off at having to regularly slide things around the needle. I'm particularly proud of the sleeve "seams".
Thanks to a class I took with Annie Modesit, I knew how to do left leaning and right leaning increases in the knit stitch, but it took a minute or two to work out how to do them purlwise.
- Pam
The body of the Willow jumper, knitted in the round:
The sleeves at 39cm/15.5 inches, knitted in the round, two at at time, using magic loop:
(No idea why these two photos are such different colours - they were taken seconds apart in exactly the same place without the use of the flash.)
Only once before have I ever tried to knit sleeves two at a time and that was just a couple of inches on a jumper my sister had started but fallen out of love with. I hated it. The stitches were crammed on the needle (she was using 14 inch straights) and the two balls of yarn kept tangling. It put me off for at least 30 years. However, I was listening to the Knitmore Girls and Jasmin kept singing the praises of knitting sleeves in the round, two at a time using magic loop, so I thought I'd give it a go. After all, what could be better than a) sleeves that are identical in both length and increases, and b) no seams to sew?
Apart from a bit of pfaffing around setting it all up on the needle, I'm a convert. Without any effort, the yarn isn't tangling. Even my annoyance has worn off at having to regularly slide things around the needle. I'm particularly proud of the sleeve "seams".
Thanks to a class I took with Annie Modesit, I knew how to do left leaning and right leaning increases in the knit stitch, but it took a minute or two to work out how to do them purlwise.
- Pam
Friday, 20 May 2011
Just a quickie
I'd like to thank everyone for their kind words. I do appreciate them.
I'm on leave for the next week, so I'm hoping to get some blogging mojo back, plus post pictures of my more recent FO's. The only concrete plans I have are rehearsals tonight/tomorrow afternoon for a concert tomorrow night, and a visit to the butcher on Monday. (Why Monday? There's a 10% discount on Mondays.) Oh, and since I seem to be zooming through the sleeves for the Willow jumper, I'm planning to swatch for the next project in my Ravelry queue.
Have a good weekend everyone.
- Pam
I'm on leave for the next week, so I'm hoping to get some blogging mojo back, plus post pictures of my more recent FO's. The only concrete plans I have are rehearsals tonight/tomorrow afternoon for a concert tomorrow night, and a visit to the butcher on Monday. (Why Monday? There's a 10% discount on Mondays.) Oh, and since I seem to be zooming through the sleeves for the Willow jumper, I'm planning to swatch for the next project in my Ravelry queue.
Have a good weekend everyone.
- Pam
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