The Book Worm

I reserved this book at the library after a friend’s recommendation.  This is a great library service that costs nothing, they send an email when the book arrives and allows several days for collected.  I was quite surprised when I called in to collect a knitting books I’d also reserved to be told there were two books waiting for me.

I was even more surprised to see how large the latest book was, a hardback of almost 600 pages, particularly as I was not very far into my current read. I worried that I wouldn’t get onto The Lincoln Highway for a few days, not finish it within the allowed 21 days then not be able to renew it as it would be reserved.  

You will be as amazed as I am to know that I read my reserved book in 2 days.  I think the first night I read beyond midnight and next morning opened the blinds slightly to start again reading beside a sleeping MrFF before 6 am.  I think I stopped at 8 and had another hours sleep before starting the day.  I read on the balcony in the sun and did more or less the same the next day finishing that night, or maybe the early hours of the next morning.  

It goes without saying that I was totally engrossed in this book, it was a wonderful read with a wide range of engaging characters, I loved it.

So far I have continued the routine of waking early and reading,  probably due to the sunny mornings and warm days we are still enjoying.  I remember having friends staying with us in Italy many years ago.  I was up before 6 and found the wife sitting alone out on the terrace with a book still in her nightdress, give it a try indoors or out early morning reading really is delightful.

This afternoon the same friend who made the recommendation came round to lend me a book she’s just finished.  This one has 805 pages, just when I’d selected two more books from the library and an in the middle of another.  She did say I could keep it to take to Italy, phew that takes the pressure off.

The day our cat came home *

I never thought I’d be writing this post though I have longed to be able to for months.  Up to last Friday our little cat in Italy, Grigio, had not being seen since Christmas by Mario who feeds her in our absence, we asked him to keep putting food out. We searched for her when we returned in April, calling her every day from the house and whenever we went out for walks until we left in June but there was no trace of her.  

Last Friday Mario messaged us to say he’d been to the house, everything was fine, the irrigation was working and Grigio was there.  We couldn’t believe it assuming it was mistaken identity, we’d seen a cat that looked rather like Grigio on the security camera earlier that week but it’s wasn’t so clear and we dismissed it as yet another stray.

Mario suggested we check that evening’s recording, there was a small grey cat fussing round his legs and mewing, he picked it up and held it to the camera, this was no stray and it definitely looked like Grigio.  Mario gave her food from the stock we’d provided just in case and left the feeder out by the back door where we could monitor it.  Grigio was back next morning for breakfast.

We told Giovanni who is already feeding at his house Vincenzo the young ginger who appeared this year and the cat he thinks is his mother. Giovanni is so kind he said Grigio would be welcome at his house too and there is enough food for them all, I’d dropped off a couple of bags and some treats before we left.

It was hard to sleep that night but lovely to wake up knowing our girl was home and safe.   Saturday afternoon we received a photo of Vincenzo and Grigio dining side by side whilst being stroked by Giovanni’s grandchildren. Sunday they were having a birthday party, Giovanni said for the whole family including the cats.   It’s a dream come true, for us all because apparently Vincenzo enjoys 3 meals a day and Grigio won’t stray far from that routine. 

We plan to return to Italy in September, if we can wait that long.  I suppose we will never know where Grigio has been or how a little cat, the runt of the litter, who was born in our garden 7 years go, had never strayed from our property and never had to fend for herself has survived 7 months in an area of mainly unoccupied houses.  We are so happy that she has, bless her heart and yes it’s definitely her because we recognise the kink in her tail.

* sorry the football didn’t 

Stuck in our ways

When I retired I loved the novelty of my time being my own with no schedule, it felt like freedom.   15 years on I seem to have set my own routines. Nothing major of course but I do like to do things a certain way, like not tackling Wordle until I’ve washed the breakfast pots and brushed my teeth. Speaking of breakfast, throughout my working life I always set breakfast before I went to bed. I stopped for a few years then started doing it again. It was something my Mum always did and I followed her example, I really enjoy getting up to see everything waiting on the table for my favourite meal of the day, such a good start.

I make the bed as soon as we get up, hoover and tidy our apartment in the morning.  Little rituals that happen automatically.   I suppose we are creatures of habit and our good habits make us feel organised and grounded.  

It seems MrFF’s routine is always to have a disruptive project on the go. All week he has been working on the spare bedroom wardrobes, I am desperate to put things away imagining the room restored. He tells me the dressing table in the recess to the left will be the last part of the work because as soon as it’s made I shall be installing my non urgent toiletries.  Quite right I will, possibly before I brush my teeth because I can still do spontaneity.

He’s only gone and done it

A record 35 stage wins on the Tour de France.  I was one if those who wanted him to stop when he equalled Eddy Merckx’ record because I didn’t want him to keep putting himself in such danger or me under such stress every time there was a sprint finish.  I was a wreck yesterday, luckily Cav and his Astana team were in full control.  A fairy tale ending for a man who has overcome such adversity, he is inspirational and will always be my favourite rider.

It’s another sprint stage today, please just stay safe Cav.

Back to ourselves

 We are recovered from Italy and fully entrenched in Yorkshire life.

I have planted up my 2 new balcony troughs with a selection of mostly white herbaceous plants from the lovely local nursery that I can walk to and from, £1 each and they make me happy. 

Last year I bought white lavender and shasta daisies for the tall pots at the same price, this year they are sizeable.  My only issue with small plants is whether they will spread and flower before we leave again but really there is plenty for us to enjoy now.

We are both back into walking, we’ve had friends round for dinner, MrFF has started his latest project adding more storage and a dressing table to the spare bedroom.  Any work in a small top floor apartment, building or gardening, brings extra challenges and disruption but my goodness we’ve had plenty of experience over the years especially with building work.  Someone asked me the other day why we don't have a handyman to do this sort of thing, we do,  it’s MrFF who I know will make an excellent job, be as clean and tidy as possible and do as he’s told.

We are watching the Tour de France live, so far it’s been amazing apart from me fretting about Cav, soon to be Sir Cav, as he attempts to beat the record for most stage wins on the Tour ever.

Giovanni is in touch regularly, he seems to relish having Vincenzo for company.  Sunday he said Vincenzo was completely exhausted having spent the morning eating, there was a photo of the dear little cat spark out.  It seems that as well as the cat biscuits and treats I provided he is getting lasagna, chicken and lamb, and I imagine lots of attention when Giovanni’s family visit at weekends. 

The weather has turned a little cooler than I’d like and the rain is a bit unpredictable, I got quite wet but never cold on my walk yesterday, but we feel settled and content back in Yorkshire, for a few of months at least.

Home again

We arrived back in Yorkshire last Wednesday evening, that journey from Lazio doesn’t get any easier.  Our first two overnights were in Bergamo, we’ve discovered that getting back in the car for the day 4 mornings in a row is just too much.  So we had a lovely second day swimming in the pool and relaxing on the sunny balcony of our apartment before heading off for dinner in the old walled city.  We left early with the intention of strolling to the restaurant, we weren’t exactly sure where it was and of course it was at the very top of the town.  We ended up taking the funicular up and down the last stretch but we still walked over 6 miles, it was beautiful.

Back in the car next morning we drove to the champagne region of France to an elegant small hotel that was new to us in a pretty little village that we found time to walk round,  it didn’t disappoint.  

Our room was spacious and calm, we had an excellent dinner and fortunately breakfast started at 6.30 so we left in good time catching an earlier ferry than we’d booked.  Just over 12 hours after leaving our hotel we were home.

We are taking a long time to recover, fortunately we brought the sun back with us and have been sitting out on our balcony resting, taking gentle walks and watching a lot of football.  We have the bifold doors open all day and the windows are open day and night, it feels like we are finally on holiday after all the work in Lazio, which is now having a heatwave with temperatures in the high 30s.  This week we have friends here on two days, MrFF has a walk with his group and on Friday fittings arrive to build more wardrobe space and a dressing table in our spare room, holiday over.

Best news of all, our little cat Vincenzo has moved up the mountain to live with Giovanni as we all hoped he would, we left food and treats there for him and Giovanni sends regular reports. 

The closing ceremony

We plan to leave our house in Lazio on Sunday, preparations have begun and some bookings made. We are going back to Bergamo for a couple of nights, last year I had terrible eye problems that spoilt our visit so we are trying again.  We will have one night in France then take the ferry Wednesday to be home in Yorkshire that evening.

So there’s work to be done before we leave.  MrFF was up before six this morning to strim the rest of orchard and burn all our hedge clippings and cuttings.  We have to burn these on site and any fire must be extinguished before 9 am, he’s well on target so we don’t expect the police helicopter to be circling.

The garden is looking good and the new irrigation for my pots is almost ready for a trial run, not that I want to move everything under the spray just yet.

The rest of the garden will survive, it won’t be beautiful when we return but it will come back. I am a little worried for some large yucca cuttings I was given.  I’ve put them in the orchard and watered them for almost two weeks but it’s been very hot.  They are quite robust plants so if they make just a few roots they’ll be ok. I hope so, I have visions of a tropical border where we used to grow our tomatoes.  MrFF is not so keen and has plans for new retaining wall that could accommodate them

Vincenzo the little cat is here most of the time but still visits Giovanni daily.  When we leave I am sure Vincenzo will just move up the mountain so I’ll take some food and the treats he likes to Giovanni and make sure that Mario steps in if needed to for feeding duties.  Giovanni hopes his grand daughter who will be at staying in August might adopt Vincenzo, he’s a calm friendly cat who deserves a home.  

We’ve made huge progress while we’ve been here, it’s a relief to have the garden room finished and it looks better than I’d hoped.  Of course we’ll come back probably late September to a dirty dusty house and a wild garden, the prospect of more projects and the olives to pick.  Don’t mention the planning violation, we’ve heard nothing despite a meeting with our geometra who was going to the regional office to inspect our documents.  Six weeks later he’s still waiting for an appointment.  MrFF was chatting to a lady in the village who had a similar though smaller problem, she said the same geometra took 3 years to resolve it. So just over 2 more years to wait.  

A water solution

The weeks here go by so quickly.  We wake early to beautiful clear sunny mornings, sit out for breakfast and contemplate the day which seems endless.  Before you know it we are eating dinner then falling asleep in front of the 10 o’clock news that’s on at 11.  

In between there has been more progress in the garden room.   I finished oiling the terracotta floor tiles and MrFF is renovating the solid wooden doors.  Much of the brown furniture has left the building including this beer keller type arrangement, a really nice man from the next village was happy to have it.  For now we have the old wooden garden table and chairs, much more in keeping with the light airy room.

Naturally rather than relax and enjoy our efforts we are thinking of returning to Ilkley.  The sooner we leave the sooner we can come back, the heat is starting to build, 30 degrees today when we went down into the valley for provisions and worst of all the mosquitoes are back.  I am disappointed to be leaving the garden now I’ve regained control as so many plants are yet to flower.  I have hardly bought anything new this year, a tray of trailing geraniums that just started to bloom this week 

and a yellow portaluca that I’m not so keen on.  But I want to see the plumbago open, the hydrangea that I thought was dead but is showing a few green shoots come back to life and these geraniums that I’ve had for several years are almost out but not quite.

So today I had a word with MrFF about the possibility of some irrigation for the pots.  Much tutting and head shaking from him as he doesn’t want to leave the water on inside the house, pleading from me.   We have a solution, we will leave all the pots at the front of the house where they’ll be in shade most of the day and netted off from badger invasion.  He’s already bought the plumbing parts and started work on some sort of isolation valve so there will be no water entering the house just supplying the garden tap.  He will then connect a timed sprinkler for the pots.   However at present it looks like he might be installing the Trevi fountain

The garden room

I quite like pretentious room names.  In Scotland we had a large room above the double garage that we called the morning room because it got the sun am. I know a keen weaver and spinner who called her workroom the loom room, you get the idea.  The garden room sounds better than the room under the balcony and makes it acceptable to be a mix of outside and inside.

So the garden room is coming on, it’s decorated, cleaned and partially restored.  I’ve been applying linseed oil to the unsealed terracotta tiles, i love the smell of that stuff, and they look much better.  MrFF has cleaned and repaired the fireplace, it was pretty awful with crumbling plaster and mortar splattered bricks.  

The room was full of brown furniture, we donated the table, bench and chairs to someone opening a taverna down in the valley, the brother of our local bar owner. We have a white wooden garden table and chairs that are far too heavy to move in and out that we can use instead to fill the space, I doubt we will ever wish to traipse our meal downstairs.

I am toying with the idea of chalk painting the large dark dresser as there is far too much brown in the room, it needs lifting and the change would be worth the effort.

Between the spiral stairs and the room we have made a library.  I enjoyed dusting and re-shelving all the books, most of which I’ve read. 

There’s still work to do and it feels rather make do and mend but when I remember that two years ago water was pouring from the ceiling and the walls were black with mould it does feel like progress.  It’s not the beautiful space it could be but neither is it the embarrassment it was, for now we’ve spent enough time and energy on a room we have never used.

Oranges and Lemons

A slight blip in posting as I was logged out of my account, all fixed now and nothing compared to the hassles of Italian life which goes like this.

Two weeks after our meeting with the geometra who as usual told us what he needs to do, nothing has been done.  

The room below the balcony, which I have decided to call the garden room, is almost finished.  It certainly looks better than it did when water was pouring in and the walls were covered in mould but the floor, which has unsealed terracotta tiles is not great and neither is the old furniture in there.  I may do a post to show you.

MrFF ordered some aluminium posts to support a new sun sail for the balcony, to be delivered to our house as they are quite large.  Delivery was due on Monday, by Monday afternoon delivery was due Tuesday.  On Tuesday the tracker said our address was invalid and the courier awaited instructions from the sender.  We’d provided our full address plus what three words identification and our Italian landline number to make sure they’d find us.  So MrFF sent to the supplier a copy of a letter from our Comune that showed our address, they replied that delivery would be on Wednesday, we knew it wouldn’t.  Today Thursday the tracker says the courier is waiting for instructions for re-delivery which is odd since the have definitely not been here to try to deliver, and we have camera evidence, or even tried to phone us.  I am thinking the couriers should offer different delivery options - this year, next year, sometime, never.

In happier news the sun is shining and yesterday we had a morning doing nothing before returning to the work.  The garden is great and my lemon tree is filling me with joy, lots of beautiful large lemons and it’s covered in blossom and bees for the next crop. Not only that, my single orange is gradually changing colour and there are a few more flowers on the tree that I have nurtured for 20 years.  There are also a few flowers on the little kumquat, but the bees are so busy on the lemon I worry the latter two won’t be fertilised.  

We had a wonderful Sunday lunch with friends, so nice to be out socialising after all the decorating and cleaning.  I came away with a large bag of bitter oranges from one of their many ladened citrus trees.  I made 15 jars of fresh fruity marmalade, the taste isn’t quite the same as Seville oranges and it was a challenge getting a set but I was determined.  With all the challenges here I have to be.

Italian update

We’ve been here just over two weeks now and progress is good.  As usual the garden has been my priority.  I’ve lost a few plants, the badgers seem to take the tuberous ones so little sign of irises or dahlias, but generally everything is thriving.  My single orange is still on the tree and changing colour, it also has several new flowers which I hope will set.  My lemon tree is amazing, having been told it would never grow at our altitude, 750 metres, it’s full of fruit, new flowers and happy bees.

MrFF has been busy in the room below the previously leaking now retiled balcony Over the winter the walls and ceiling remained dry so he’s removed the old black mold, which fortunately was superficial and is busy redecorating.  He’s happy to work on his own with me joining in as required to do the cutting in round skirtings, switches etc and help with the cleaning, there was a lot of sanding down that filled the room with dust.

We’ve never used this room which is a pity.  Its huge room and opens onto the lower garden, it’s very private and slightly cooler in summer than the rooms under the roof.  I’ve always had a desire for a day bed in there or maybe a hammock for afternoon snoozes. 

Sadly there is no sign of Grigio.  We’ve walked out and called her a lot, it doesn’t look good as she hasn’t been seen since Christmas.   Meanwhile a youngish ginger cat has appeared.  At first we ignored him but since we have cat food to spare it seemed mean not to give him some, we are a soft touch.  He’s quite friendly, we can stroke him and pick him up, but he doesn’t hang around too long after he’s eaten. We get the impression he has a home which is fine, we like to see him but are glad he doesn’t rely on us.  We really don’t want any more of the stress of leaving a cat for months on end however well we provide for it. So for now we have Vincenzo our time share boy who is very sweet, we are trying not to get attached.

Finally we have a meeting with our geometra on Friday early evening about the planning violation.  He seems incapable of action, so far as we know he hasn’t made any approach to the Comune since we asked him to help us last August.  However his recent email acknowledged we were returning to the village after Easter so he was on programme, his own programme which bears no resemblance to ours.  

That’s just the way things are

When we were in the UK we saw on our Italian security camera a man wearing an unidentifiable high viz uniform call at our back door, leave and come back again with something in his hand.  His car or van was obviously parked up the road so we couldn’t identify that. 

A few weeks later the same man was back, this time he again went back to his car and return with a screw driver spending time at the back door, which is where our electricity meter is housed.  We have a smart meter so there is no need for readings to be taken, besides if he wanted to just read the numbers he wouldn’t need a screw driver.  As a precaution we asked Mario to check and the house was fine.

However this time MrFF took from the camera a still of the visitor which he then sent to our provider asking if they could identify the person and explain what he was doing.  They replied, eventually, saying they couldn’t respond because MrFF had written in English, it must be a special law that utilities cannot use translator. MrFF sent everything again in Italian and this time they replied, in their own good time, that it wasn’t their department and we needed to contact the distributor.  Third time lucky, not, we got no reply at all from the distributor. 

When we arrived at our house last week MrFF discovered that the lock on the meter cupboard had been tampered with, broken and inoperable, so much for the screw driver.  Maybe it’s also a rule that keys cannot be taken out of the office.  MrFF wrote to the distributor complaining that we no longer have access to our meter and are unable to isolate our electricity supply should we need to.   In fact if the meter trips off, as often happens, we have no way to turn it back on without breaking the door open.  We got no response.

Mario arrived with our mail and there was a letter from the electricity people, dated 2 days after our complaint, saying they need to change our meter urgently and we should make an appointment.

If they’d asked us to make an appointment before the first visit and said they didn’t have a key for the cupboard that they provided we could have arranged for Mario to give them access.  Now we have no idea how the man intends to open the meter cupboard and doubt if he going to replace the lock. I know I am being too logical about this, we’ve only been back a few days and I have yet to adjust my brain into Italian mode but now as the usual senseless challenges return we really feel we’ve arrived.

We have arrived

Boxes and cases litter the house which needs a really good clean.  However I have been weeding the garden and sorting the balcony pots, MrFF has got the comfy chairs out so we can recover from our journey in the sun.

Sadly no sign of Grigio, we keep calling and will walk out later in case she’s moved elsewhere.

Lost and found

I’ve regularly been taking my walk up the other side of the valley to see Bertie the alpaca since November, sometimes three times a week.  I have never seen him, there have been goats and lovely brown sheep but no Bertie.  There never seemed to be anyone around to ask about him.

Last week I was returning from my walk and met MrFF on his way for his walk, i reported no Bertie.  So he’d taken himself up to the field to look and fortunately met some people who told him that Bertie was in a field not visible from the road.  MrFF crossed a couple of field, naughty but necessary, and sent me this.  

 

Bertie, behind the gate, is fine and with his goaty companions.  It probably makes sense for him to be safely out of sight, I am just happy he is ok.

Then yesterday MrFF was looking at our Italian security camera and spotted a cat in the garden that looked like Grigio who hasn’t been seen since Christmas.  This morning the same cat appeared where we park the car, had a happy roll on the road and wandered to the back door.  This time we could see better and it could be Grigio.  We’ve told Mario and hope he might go up to check.

We are planning to leave for Italy in a few days, maybe with a couple of nights in France to arrive Tuesday evening. We just hope this is Grigio, that she stays around till we arrive and we can be reunited. Keep your fingers crossed for us please.

Knitting now

I have definitely made space in my yarn stash this year.  Two garments for me and one for the youngest grand niece all of which I’ve shown at some stage of construction.  

So back to the bottomless supply of wool.  

I’ve made another pair of West Yorkshire Spinners socks, this is my favourite colour and I shall be heartbroken if they ever discontinue it.

A little cowl with some super soft yarn I believe is Rowan, bought in the charity shop.

I also made a pair of fingerless gloves with yarn a friend had left over.  The gloves are for her so doesn’t really count as a reduction just some visiting wool.

On the needles I have a pair of men’s socks, I love knitting cables and cable socks.  Over the coldest months of winter I wore a pair of dk ones and they were such a comfort. 

But before you say well done Jen, I have to show you these which arrived in the penthouse just this morning.  

Those lovely people at Rowan were having a great sale, how could I resist.  Rowan Cotton Wool organic merino and organic cotton and Rowan Island Blend Falkland fine merino with alpaca and silk. They are both gorgeous, soft and squashy, well reduced in price and the purple included a pretty shawl pattern.  

What a good start to Easter.  The sun is shining, we have friends here for lunch tomorrow and new yarn beats chocolate eggs any day, though I may have some  those too and there will definitely be hot cross buns. 

Enjoy your holiday weekend 

School dinners

There was an item on the news last week about a headmaster who had complained about the quality of food supplied to his pupils from outside contract caterers.  It does indeed look disgustingly grey and mushy with hardly a green vegetable in sight and was no doubt shipped in from a distant factory.

Photo from Redbridge Community School

However what shocked me even more than the food quality was the dining hall where pupils were eating from disposable cartons, they looked like polystyrene, with small disposable wooden cutlery.  One pupil said he thought if he added salt and pepper to his wooden fork it might have more flavour than his meal.  

There was no table setting, pupils seemed to park themselves anywhere to eat many wearing their outside coats.  The used utensils would be thrown into bins destined for landfill as they left. What life lesson does that give them.  

I remember the ritual of school dinners when I was at junior school.  We left our classrooms and walked a short distance alongside the village stream to queue outside the canteen, which had its own vegetable garden.  Once the supervising teacher arrived and entered the building we followed to our allotted tables, already set for lunch with cutlery, water and glasses.  The teacher announced the days menu and we all said grace. 

Each table had 9 pupils, one of whom was the server, an older pupil who went to the counter to collect the food, two plates at a time.  There was no choice but it was possible to specify your portion size. The server asked each child what they wanted and had to memorise the order, say a small portion of meat, large of potatoes, medium vegetables, with most probably different portions for the other plate.  Food was served onto plates by the dinner ladies, who were all local, they had cooked everything that morning.

We were not allowed to leave food on our plates, which was never a problem for me as that was the way I was brought up.  Besides the food was fresh and delicious, there was nothing I didn’t like. Puddings especially were excellent, various sponges, treacle, jam, ginger, all with custard, fruit pies or crumbles, rice or semolina. If a child refused to eat they had to sit in front of their plate until they did even if it meant being late back to class.

At my secondary school there was a rota for pupils setting the tables supervised by a teacher.  As we filed into the dining room we each collected our own napkin from our pigeon hole,  a fresh one brought from home each Monday and returned for washing on Friday. The food, again a no choice menu,  was delivered in tureens after grace and dished out by who ever was head of the table usually a prefect.  

At both schools lunch was part of our learning, serving food to others, memorising orders, portion control, the sociability of sitting down to share a meal together.  It’s sad that children today don’t have the benefit of nutritional food or that basic social training 

It’s a testament to the quality of school meals in this town that by mid afternoon leaving time the supermarkets are invaded by hundreds of children buying snacks, to the extent they have to be supervised by security staff and directed to their own checkouts to avoid delaying other shoppers. Kids then wander down the street digging into large bags of crisps, eating full packs of biscuits, bakery items, sweets, fizzy drinks, unhealthy rubbish probably costing more than their school meal.  I was taught that it was ill mannered to eat in the street and I never have, we certainly didn’t expect any snacks once we left school for the day and waited for our evening meal.

The education system is doing children such an injustice, our obesity rate continues to climb while the contract caterers and snack manufacturers are coining it in. School dinners have to be provided within a budget but health and well being don’t seem to be factored into the cost.

That didn’t work

I was quite surprised when I finished my cotton top how much I like it which made me determined to solve the colour variation problem.  I soaked the finished garment in a mixture of mild soap and eco bleach, this stuff which I like a lot particularly as it comes with its own tiny cardboard scoop.

It took a while to dry in the utility room and I was quite hopeful until I brought it out to the lounge windows and realised it was much the same, front and back different shades and the top of the back the same shade as the front.

This leaves me with several solutions

Always wear the top with a cardigan to conceal the back

Wear it only in shade where the difference is less obvious,  avoiding direct sunlight in Italy would be tricky

Wear it a lot in the sun hoping that the darker part will fade 

Dye it, I like it white as it shows up the knobbly texture so well 

Knit another one, I do have enough yarn left over but this one has taken me more than two years, time is against me and I didn’t much enjoy the process first time 

Just bluff it, pretend it’s meant to be like that and cast on another pair of socks

What would you do?

Now look what’s happened

The positivity of my spring fever has diminished somewhat. 

Whilst looking through my yarn stash I came across a little cotton top I started I believe in 2022.  The yarn was a charity shop find, 100 cotton with the slubby texture I like. It must have been old because the balls are in ounces, it was very fine so I used 2.5 needles, progress was slow.

I chose this pattern Paloma by Lisa Richardson from Rowan magazine no 65 but didn’t knit the pattern at the front because I thought there was enough texture from the yarn, and yes because I like an easy life.  I did add the detail at the edge of the sleeves just to show some willing.

When I pulled the garment out of my storage box I was pleased to see I’d completed the back and was almost up to the arm shaping on the front. I’ll have that finished before we go to Italy I told myself and pressed on, still knitting the purple vest top in daylight, the white cotton in the evenings. 

Then I noticed that front and back are different shades, in fact the last few inches of the back are different to the rest of the back but the same as the front.  I checked the ball bands, they have the same dye and lot numbers.  How bloomin annoying.  

It’s my own fault of course. I am notorious for not checking my knitting.  I once  made MrFF a 100% wool tweedy sweater that turned out to be two different shades of black, he wore it non the less and I won’t be pulling this one out.  I might wash it and see if that helps, I don’t think it would dye as a gentle cold wash is recommended. 

I really should stick to socks, I could produce those in my sleep.  I’d say it’s my age but another lady in our building, aged 92, is still knitting the most beautiful and complex garments, she puts me to shame.  If I live as long as Margaret I have another 17 years of knitting disasters to look forward to, watch this space.

Spring is springing

On bright mornings we have the sun streaming into our kitchen via the central atrium, such a good start to the day.  I love this time of spring bulbs and flowers that make me miss my Scottish garden and the plants I had, many different hellebores, witch hazels, primroses, I wonder what’s happened to them as I am told the garden is now rather neglected.

I have a few pots of daffodils on the balcony and I added crocus into the two big pots last autumn, they are just starting to flower.   It’s a slow process as our north facing balcony won’t be in the sun for another month.

Indoors I have several amaryllis from previous years, some growing just in water one flowering beautifully. 

Also a couple of hyacinths also in water, I quite like sticking bulbs in vases or jars of water and being able to see what’s happening.  I am prone to rooting about in compost to check for growth often causing serious damage. My Christmas cactus also from last year is still flowering, it’s been amazing for almost 2 months.

Inspired by longer days and better weather I did some work in our communal garden at the weekend.  Ever hopeful I planted out my Christmas hyacinths that had finished flowering, the ones I put in previous years were strimmed to the ground before they could flower by out slash and burn gardener.  I must make a notice telling him not to do anything in that area. I tidied round the daffodils, collected a lot of sodden leaver that concealed more bulbs and weeded the herb garden MrFF and I created years ago.

Next day I was surprisingly stiff and achy, I am considering doing more gardening in the hope it’s going to firm up my inner thighs and bottom, no pain no gain, and I was definitely in pain in those areas.

It did snow, it did stretch

It was snowing when we got up on Thursday and it continued all day, when I drew the curtains that evening the snow was quite deep.

MrFF walked down the hill with me to the opticians, I wished I’d taken a hat and finger rather than fingerless gloves but my new chunky boots kept me upright.  The optician said my eye had healed well after the incident in Italy and I didn’t need to change my glasses.  On the way back we treated ourselves to fat rascals from Betty’s our lovely tea rooms, which was busy despite the weather.

After my charity cardigan dried the sleeves were definitely longer and less tight, the body however didn’t seem much bigger.  I rinsed out the conditioner and put it to dry flat again, giving it another stretch.  Now the process is complete the cardigan is definitely expanded, softer and feels much less felted.  I had no idea that a item damaged in the wash could be rejuvenated or that wool which we consider quite a delicate fibre is strong enough to be manipulated into shape, never too old to learn.