Spiders, Egypt prequel and day one. Or part of it.

Finally, and its obviously finally (it being ages (sadly, I mourn this) since I got back) I have got around to posting.
But first onto an update note. I'm back at work and not even remotely happy about it. Yesterday with very little effort and no intention of doing either of these I got stuck in the kitchen by an arachnid (a spider). Then 15 minutes later in the bathroom (again) by another arachnid (Harvestman) and created an erratic cloud (it was if I was sending smoke signals with white powder) in work's car park. This would happen on the same day that I got told about this being a "Year of The Spider". I was plating the tea up and I looked around. And there, less than a meter away from the defenceless me (I refuse to kill them deliberately) and our poor defenceless tea (chicken one pot and potato and leek soup, too thick for the spider to sink into and drown. But the former was bubbling a lot and could have engulfed it. Either could have burnt it. Which actually disproves the defenceless and makes them more harmful than me, but they can't run away. Why am I rambling like this?).
Anyway (The Prologue), less than a meter away, there was a spider in the lobby by the kitchen door. CGBF got shrieked upon-called is way to calm by a massive margin. And through he came. Armoured with a bill (mine, why didn't he use on of his own? He's happier about them than I am) and one of my Jam jars (not sure if I can ever face placing jam into it again no, I feel a certain mild apprehension which may err towards pre-trauma about the jar now). It was rather large, but reassuringly smaller than the jam jar lid. I wasn't particular happy with its presence. However, unlike me the spider was perfectly calm. And was happily (all legs intact and uninjured=happy just so you know) ensconced in the jar, and vacated it once the jar had been put on its side outside.Spider mark2. which was in fact a close relative of the spider family (same class), it was a Harvestman. Which did the most singularly cruel thing and showed up when I was on the loo and headed right for me. Right along the bottom, of the door which is tightly fitted or I could at least have hope that it may have got frightened by my shriek and mad scramble to get finished before it got my length. But no. Not at all. It had to go up and lurk on the hinge (at least it paused so I could get away with dignity-always dignified). So I could. NOT. Open the door (without squishing it) . So I was well and truly stuck in there. Shrieking at CGBF who, alerted by the yowling (think something along the lines of a cat stuck outside) was lurking outside (he wasn't getting to watch the news uninterrupted but was still surprisingly sweet tempered).
Lucky for me it moved, the door was opened and the jam jar was produced. This too was deposited outside.
On to Egypt. Prequel and Day one.We left from Aberdeen (which was disgustingly sunny) the day before amidst a flurry of "I still haven't picked a knitting project", loosing patterns and "I might need to knit something else" mind changing. I also wove and left the binoculars which I'd gone in there for beside the loom. And finally tracked down assorted undies and socks (which took aagess). Got through knitting through the search points intact (a really tense time that) waited, watching planes taking off which was surprisingly relaxing. Cast on the Lighthouse sock from Knitty somewhere over the borders. It started with purple. EEEEEEEP.
Landed fine and tracked down the bus point for the hotel. It was about half way along the bus stop that we realised neither of us had taken any notes on what the hotel was called. Bu$$3ry.That's what happens when you decided to go for something special. Something nice. You forget the details. Quick (rather grumpy) jaunt around the airport to find the Internet. Not I know you can't find the Internet (unless its stored in a box that's normally kept in a top secret place near Big Ben (IT crowd joke) but we did find an Internet cafe-does anyone have any idea why the word Internet needs a capital?). Then we tracked the email confirmation down and found the bus waiting there. We went for the Great Western Moat house.
And it was awful, we usually go for Premier Inn and leave happy. We get a good room, large, well presented, lovely bathroom with a comfortable mattress, nice meal, good breakfast. We leave happy. In this place the only good thing was the breakfast (best scrambled eggs and mushrooms I've had in a long time and it had Danish pastries, now that's a breakfast I'll support). The room was a third of the size of any that I have got at Premier.
Old furniture with a dated look. Barely any room to walk beside the bed. Only one bedside cabinet (nothing really matched to be honest) and the mattress was bust. I've never tested a mattress that has been dumped but I'm sure they'd have a similar amount of support. Seriously you sat on the edge and the whole thing sagged and more than once one of us over balanced and fell backwards into the center. It felt like a Star Wars Sarlack like beasty was pulling you over and into the middle. Resulting in hardly any sleep that night. The food was almost cold (so cold the cheese on my risotto didn't melt, blaggh) and extremely lack luster.
Maybe its just me but I like to chat during tea, I prefer it to needing to bolt my food down before it goes cold. To be honest, it tasted like it came out of a packet and had mushrooms stirred in. The desert and especially the fruit looked and tasted like it was old and had been sitting for ages. It'd shrivelled and the outside had gone leathery. At least couldn't hear planes. The breakfast was good though. I fully support serving Danish pastries for breakfast. The scrambled eggs were fantastic but I reckon that if I'd come down later they'd be nasty having sat on the hot plate for ages.Bus was broken. Who'd have thought a taxi would be cheaper. 1 statement about Gatwick that covers everything. HUGE queues. Two words and that's it summed up. Let me put it to you this way, Luxor was far better. Huge queue to get checked in and on and after seeing a queue almost half a mile long in Gatwick to get through security we successfully found the shorter one upstairs (overheard man with a wavey sign telling people about it and ran for it). Got through with knitting intact although CGBF's shoes did cause some stress. Twice, they are checked, you get frisked then 5 steps away from there, you get checked. Again.
Got into the airport and was asked for my travel boarding pass in order to buy plasters (I'd burned my arm) so they knew who'd bought it for some sort of customs reasons. Seriously, scanned and recorded a packed of plasters from Boots. How ridiculous is that?
Boarded etc and we were off. Sadly no window seats but it was horribly cloudy so I console (lie to) myself that I missed nothing. We flew for what seemed ages and I knit quite a bit.
We landed in the desert and we walked into a wall of hot. And our guest and my extra travel mate joined us from here. Now I do not want to post my picture on the Internet. And I also did not want to just post a scenery picture like everyone else. I wanted something that added my stamp to it. I was here, I saw this. Meet, The Syphilis. Here He is waiting at Aberdeen airport and reclining on my hat (apparently its quite comfy).
Imagine if you will a microbe, that has been enlarged to 1 million times its actual size and made into a small fluffy toy. A giant microbe (Giantmicrobes.com). You will from here be regaled with tales from the Syphilis and with occasional comments from myself or CGBF.You would not believe the heat that hit you or how you feel your arm burning as soon as it gets into direct sunlight. I was glad of my hat (even though none of the security guards along the way liked it, there was a lot of this->).
Anyway, wall of HOT. Here is what we saw is all its scary glory (the scenery, not the planes).
Here is some pictures of what Luxor is like along an irrigation canal. To clarify it is filthy. 1 part dirt, 1 part dust to 8 parts rubbish.

And here is the nile at sunset. Awe inspiring.
Here is the West bank and the Nile. But there were flowers planted along the verge which were quite beautiful.

Here is a picture of the lobby as you come in the door of the boat. I don't have a picture of it (as it is on day one) because they stack up side by side. And we reached it by walking through the lobbies of other ships. Which got a bit hairy for a lot of people as they weren't always level. We were the fourth or fifth ship out. You can see the door onto the next ship just above The Syphilis's head.

Here is The Syphilis on the stairs to give you an idea of scale.

I shall blog more soon. My eyes are about coming out of me from looking at this thing for so long.
However here is a picture of The syphilis reclining by the pool.

Ill and seemingly incompetent

I feel awful and I have problems at the minute.
Here is a short list.

Seemingly I can't even manage to clean my bread maker. You think after giving it a scrub the view window it would be fine. But no. Its as inscrutable as ever.
The title thing also looks like I've typed III instead of ill. Maybe it'll work out.
My software for to get my photos off the camera (phone) is at his parents house so no photos for today.
I feel ill and head achy.
This stupid thing just deleted my post and I have to type things three times over due to it jumping and there being extraneous letters and part words turning up in odd, random and unexpected places.
I want some tasty bread. I've tried to make Garlic bread and it won't be ready for hours. Nom nom nom denied.

Grrrrrrr grrrr and once again grrrrrrr

Added: I've just checked it. Some of the writing has gone grey. Whyyyyy?

Back.

I am very late in blogging. But I have some reasons...
I am also typing this between (oh no not again runrunrun) jaunts to the bathroom. I have been EXTREMELY unwell. So if this is a bit disjointed its because I was daft enough to try breakfast. Which was sincerely not worth the effort. To quote, CGBF I have been praying to the "Oh Dear God" porcelain god Huey. Lets be politer and say that I ate something and its having its revenge. It wasn't even in Egypt, no, no Pharaoh's Revenge, it was Gatwick's revenge (Gawick is one of London's four airports). I got food poisoning on the way home. First world, not third. What is the chances of that? I feel that's a bit unfair.

Actually I'm doubly late because I have just spent 10 minutes trapped in the bathroom (that, considering the past few days, is not unusual. Sadly/tragically) with CGBF trying to find the source of the whining sound.

Last night I heard a whining sound. A very insecty whining noise which resulted in some extreme examinations of the bathroom's private corners and it being most emphatically sealed. This morning we found the source. It was a bitey looking insect that wasn't a mosquito hat (stupid thing jumps around so the "t" there went missing. I can't find it now either. Gggggrrrrrrrr. Rest assured its not a mosquito hat) that was lurking in our shower. Like a reversed Psycho (the Alfred Hitchcock film) re-enactor. A rather nippy little bug which evaded CGBF and was being chased vigorously around the room (which is tiny let me assure you, almost as much space in the shower as the main body of it). Tissues, towel whipping and in the hand a vigorous smacking he resorted to slamming his hands along the wall around the radiator until he finially managed to blat it. It was much like a cat hunting something.

Could I leave? No.
Why? We kept loosing sight of it and if one of us left it could escape. There was no way we were going to risk getting bitten by some whinny bitey insect after making it through Egypt alive (unbitten).

All was well, it was extremely hot (35C (95F) at 11 at night in Luxor), there was no Mozzy whining sounds, the food was excellent if almost entirely lacking in Egyptian fare. It was horrendously hot, bright. I feel the heat was so extremely orientated towards hot that it requires re-iterating. Especially since it was 35-47 Celsius (95-117 Fahrenheit) in Egypt when we left. And 10C (50 F) when we arrived. Hostile in the extreme. We've been arguing who should get the hot water bottle and I've been wearing my deep winter jammies. There has been no hot water bottle. But only because both of us were refusing to lead the "warmth" of the bed. Wiggling and shrieking at the same time (well I was, but there was a considerable level of man Arraggghhhhhhing from CGBF).

So I have been ill since Tuesday night and have most constructively spent most my time living beside the toilet. It was the eggs I had the morning after we landed in the UK. So I got back, was good, next day, these eggs are a bit funny, ah well, nom nom nom. Later that day illlllll.

Before I go I would like to share my sorrow about what has happened in Asia in recent days. I can only imagine how horrendous things are for people there. My thoughts are with them :(.

Anyway, I'm away off to go back in there again (I really should set a bed up in there, may as well be comfortable). Over the coming days I shall go over each of the days and add photos, I may add a summary as well (a shorter post and easier fitted into the breaks).

Going mayhaps to be an Eclair

Today I finally took action to ensure thatI am not wandering around Egypt nekked I can travel in appropriate clothing whilst being baking hot. Its 40 Celsius, is it just me or is that a tad antisocial? I know the planet does not revolve around being sociable to humans, and nor should it ever. But bloody hell that is scary.
We had difficulty in 26C heat and were pleading for someone to follow us around with a fan to prevent us from dying. I have difficulty coping in the south of France. Which I'm sure most (all sane) people will admit is not Africa nor anywhere near African high temperatures. So I am willing to place money one my one action of the hot afternoon will be to crawl into the shade with something cool. And maybe some knitting (I still haven't decided what to make. Eeeep).

From personal experience what Dara said about the melting point of an Irish person applies to people North of the border as well as south. And I am one of those things that melts, goes gooey and at the same time, crispy bright red on the outside.

However the point is, I needed clothes that did not make me look (as my mum would describe it)like a "sack of spuds tied in the middle" without spending a fortune. What is wrong with designers? It seems to me that Bigger=no waist is in their opinion a law of physics. Which may be shocking to some people when they find out, this isn't true. Anyway, off we went (CGBF to stuff me back inside a likely shop to keep me from not trying on anything). Town was heaving with people, it was a horror. Shop after shop it was like a swarm of flies all over things. I got scared.

We found somewhere quieter and there was a small child screaming in the changing room. Screaming non stop. Her dad was making her try on stuff. I could sympathise. I was 2 minutes from that happening to me. Actually the chances are I'd been that screaming child when I was wee, noisy (actually I'm still noisy) and hated the whole process of buying clothes almost as much as I do now (that dislike has been cultivated).

The first thing I tried made me look like a pudding. For some reason this led into me asking CGBF "If I was a pudding what sort would I be?".

Now he decided I'd be an Eclair.
Now what made him decide that I looked like a long, randomly lumpy sausage-like splodge of pastry coated in sticky stuff and filled with cream that squirts out when poked I do not know. Its hardly complementary is it? Apparently stuff does come out when I'm poked, its almost entirely noise though. Which he insisted on testing at random points during the day (I am quite screamy I will admit).

But an Eclair? Not something light luxurious, delicate and a rare delicacy (moi? high opinions? Never). No, a squidgy bun that is commonly available (that latter is most certainty not ever going to be true). Sob.

Anyway (the prologue) we got there eventually and he realises why I am a horror to shop with. I'll go in disparage everything, want to leave, get hauled back (repeat five times) until I am eventually stuffed into a changing room with a handful of stuff (I don't like but if I try it then I know I'll dislike it and its horrible) and reject it all. Bar one if things are going well. Repeat 3x and I have 3 trousers (one all you can leave bum prints on things, whats wrong with colourfast garments?) and 4 tops.

And rest. Then notice something and start some serious wondering.

We were in asda wandering around the clothing bit (between the DVD's and food). Oooh on the subject of DVD's we got I am Legend, Mongol and a few others I can't remember the name of including a scary sounding one. Anyway, (the Prologue) we nearly wandered into to the Granny pants (seriously they were that big, even the small ones). They were just lurking and yet looming all at once. Yes, it is possible to lurk and loom. They hid in a Granny Weatherwax fading into the background with just as much malice in a clueless manner (they are pants) and them looming out of sheer elephantine enormity, weighted down with lacy frilly fancy bits. Don't get me wrong, I'm not adverse to fancy pants just like the rest of you (assumption here but I'd like to think most of us here have style). But when it comes to HUGE Granny pants the size of a small child or almost, my Torso? I was thinking to myself that having heard people describe clothes as being fit to walk. Not mine I hassen to add, I'm compulsive about having clean and fresh frilly things and socks. Anyway (the prologue) should this Giant Pair of lacy Pants come alive, it could easily eat a child and savage small right up to medium sized dogs, maybe an adult if it moved fast enough, if it could move. Maybe the lace could take on a vast peristaltic movement that would allow it to undulate it around. That'd give us a clue how to stop it, pants have very little lace on the back.... But when you consider it Giant Savage killer pants aren't normal so that may not work because savage killer pants aren't normal so nothing can be construed as being capable of stopping them. Maybe I need more sleep. I am so talking bollocks but anyway. That at least is hardly abnormal.

CGBF just wandered in and said 'yes, yes you are'. Awwwwwagh

Maybe its the withdrawal symptoms from lack of spinning. Its making me INSANEEEEEEEEE Araghhhhh I want to spin but instead I'm degenerating into a mentally desperate person.
I can hang on until I've finished the final bobbin and plied them all up, I can, yes I can I HAVE TOOOOO.

Anyway (the Prologue)Why why why would someone try to make a 'sexy' pair of granny pants, especially those that are big enough to fit a pair of grannies in? Do 'sexy' and 'Granny pants' not mutually destroy each other like a pink frilly antimatter and matter reaction? Minus Gamma rays or an end times that could be taken seriously.

Slogans on pants, these really confuse me, the one that has me bitching has 'I love shopping' along the elastic. Why would ANYONE want the world to know 'I love shopping'. There is no way I would be happy wandering around with that embossed on my bum bits. Especially when it is a sickly egg yolky yellow and has hot dogs, burgers and other random pictures on it. How tasteless can you get, well as tasteless as nasty yellow pants but that brought it beyond the tastelessness that is that, by each tiny increment of decoration. We found some lumberjack shirts and CGBF admired, yes I did ask was he ok? And did his dad have any secrets I should know about and more importantly, did his mum know?

Some of the stuff there really smelled fusty* so we didn't stay long besides staring bemused at the pants. I mean really, who would want Betty bo on their knickers, or Tas Mania. Was glass gemstone studding one pair too. In the end we started wandering around after one of those woman who smell like they have marinated themselves in perfume as well as washed their clothes in it. Managed to pace myself so that I was in her wake, riding the bow wave. That tiny habitable patch between the awful fusty clothes smell and being overpowered by the perfume. Like a planetary system really that was. I was orbiting the over fragranced woman.

*Great Aberdonian word which I have really taken to, means something like musty and mouldy. As in chocolate cake, fusty cake, fusty cake, chocolate cake and more fusty cake (from an old manager). Another Aberdonian one is Spirtle. Which is not a porno pokemon as it sounds. Its a gadget for beating porridge or mashed potatoes up. Truthfully it looks like someone has taken a stave off a chair back. Who knows...I need to get out, CGBF has declared this. I have no bobbins and I need to tidy *sob*

We have now completed packing (I did the socks and knickers) and tidied the kitchen as well as having a dose of hysterics at the spider skin on my shoes.

Well me for now, I've slightly degenerated into a exhaustion rant but there you go. These things do sometimes happen. I need some serious canoodling to sleep before the holiday.
Will report back in just over a week :).

Spinning wheel, spinning wants.

I really want a new spinning wheel and I cannot afford that kind of money at the minute. Sadly I'm on my lonesome, well I say lonesome but CGBF is in the next room. However he has a friend over for dinner (which has very handily helped me to clear the fridge out pre holiday) so I'm in self imposed isolation in the bedroom.

Am I the only one (I am so wandering away from the original point here) who believes that the friend and partner barrier shouldn't be breached? They have been friends for years, long before we met. They have all those shared piss ups and beery nights out mixed with perving on the local wildlife ahem experiences, the in jokes and having another person, especially someone who is a bit shy like me (its bad, trust me) there wouldn't be comfortable. For me or for them. So into (utterly self imposed and enforced) exile I do go.

Which is why I am searching for spinning wheels and feeling a bit depressed. I am really protective over my stuff, I like to ensure it is well maintained. And since I swapped the flyer unit including the Mother Of All (the bit of kit that holds the whirly bits (flyer) that the wool goes into) that the wheel came with for another one then swapped back one of the Maidens (two upright pieces of wood that holds the flyer) has started to rattle. I should elaborate on that one. The Flyer unit is all the fancy rather compact and complex bit that sits above, to one side or in front of the wheel. String (the "drive band") which goes around the wheel to the flyer (a smaller wheel) and causes it to turn (the ratio). Causing the wool to twist creating yarn. By changing the size of the flyer you change the number of times it revolves per one turn of the big wheel. The faster it turns, the more twist and the thinner the yarn that can be spun. Thinner yarn needs more twists per inch to hold it than thicker yarn.

I exchanged my regular flyer kit (Mother of All) to a jumbo one designed for chunky yarn. Because it is so large it is perfect for plying because you can fit two regular bobbins worth of yarn onto it with ease. Allowing you to create a longer length of uninterrupted yarn. But since one of the two legs as it were powers (Maidens) has been loose. I think I'd need to fill it with filler and have to re drill the flyer in. But since its wood I can't tell how well this would work. So it'll have to be a repair job. Sigh.

Here is a labelled picture of my regular bobbin (this holds the yarn) beside a jumbo bobbin and the jumbo flyer (which is holding another jumbo bobbin). Which shows the size difference between the two. I've also included a 15 inch/38cm "Niddy Noddy" which is used to make skeins to act as a scale comparison. Its a pity I don't have a lace flyer unit as of yet to use as a smaller comparison.

I've just realised that the purple isn't standing out as much as I'd like. The Wool/yarn goes in here also looks like I've written Wod/yarn. Brilliant. Well hey, its better than the previous colour.

But with all the problems and worries about damaging the wheel I'm at the point of wanting a second wheel to ply with. Actually that's a point, I really should try spinning chunky yarn. Once I get a new wheel. Maybe that'll be a festive folly gift for myself.

I shall have to ponder what one to get in the mean time. I would like one with as many ratios as possible. I'm not even sure if I want to stick to an Ashford. I love their nice clean lines, lack of over fussiness, but I've never tried anything else and I must admit to being a bit curious... And I've heard of an Orkney make (Haldane) as well as one in Wales or England (Timbertops, who also do repair work). It'd be nice to support a "local" maker. Or as local as being in the same country as that counts.

Oooh, I've found a fool proof way of getting CGBF to seriously look at what I'm knitting or weaving. I now take my top off and drape it across my boobs. Works every time ;).

Well its late and I'd better head off to bed. Clothes shopping tomorrow. Blagggh (still).

More holiday stuff.

Today I have sorted the travel insurance, got heckled about it, flounced around wearing the hat (for some reason that is note worthy to me, I'm not sure if anyone else would feel the same), worked on the Blur shawl mark 2, had a dose of hysterics (CGBF used a phrase WORD FOR WORD my dad used on me, the one about doing things in good time, instead of leaving it to the last minute) and ate a vast quantity of cereal.

Since going on holiday I have knitted a vast quantity, and ate a vast quantity of cereal. It is like a veritable elephants graveyard of boxes stashed out of sight of his chair. I kind (I typed that as knid, I wonder if they are vicious/vermiscious or not) of realised he'd spotted them when I heard a (manly) scream (he maintains it was a (manly) exclamation, not a scream) from the living room. Then he wandered through and did the hug thing, where he cuddles me and asked did I eat all that cereal this week. "You did as well, I know you did" (I did too). Then wandered off with a sigh after patting my shoulder. Bless.

Weaving, I wove something yesterday and am rather amazed by just how much the weaving is narrowed by when you decrease from 1 thread every second dent to every dent. I expected a difference, but not such a large one. Guess I was clueless... (about it.)
I made a slight mistake in the weaving so 2 strands next to each other when woven 1,3 up then 2,4 up are sitting side by side. Otherwise everything seems fine. I got about 2 foot done so I'm pleased about that.

I have also realised that CGBF (who was humouring me by trying it on) looks better in the hijab than I do. Its the longer face. Sob.

I finally showed the "Sex Wax" picture to CGBF. He is insisting on investigating so we are off to Bruce Millers (a music shop).

Well that's me for today, we need to go clothes shopping (Blagh). And I still haven't decided what knitting to bring with me :(.

Holiday preparations.

I'm on Holiday!!

Woohoooooo :)

This is the first time all year I have been on a proper holiday (two days off to go and visit the dentist don't count). So what have I been doing with myself. Knitting (obvious), stash diving in the pretence of bagging it (I just want to squish Merino, which I could happily do for the next few hours but I need to blog). I am also preparing to go on holiday.

CGBF has booked us on a weeks cruise up the Nile! We leave Monday coming and it hasn't quite sunk in yet.

The effort to get holiday supplies is ongoing and so far has proved amusing. Since I only need to be in a place that is sunny to burn, not even in the sun, I burn in the shade (I seriously believe the sun goes Ah ha, there she is and instantly turns up the frazzle) I've got a hat (which I'm convinced looks like this....





but brown. I even said as much in the shop (I couldn't remember the name of the cow and I thought the flower was on the hat. Not a fan of the magic roundabout).



I'm not a hat wearing person normally, them being associated with spectacularly itchy flowery straw and spike based specimen provided by mum an encounter (dun dun dunnnn) with a rather strict church. First the flowers seemed the ultimate bad point, but once I couldn't see the flowers (the hat being on my head) the itch took over as being major massive problem. Until I realised the flowers were sending the spikes back in into my head and I just started to loathe it in its entirety.



Now normally this would be enough to make me forgo the hat as a garment but for another incident which at least gives me some acceptance towards them being useful.

High summer holiday (what possessed my parent?) in France and it was tremendously hot. Miserably so and me being a teenager and for some obscure reason having learned from experience as well as not being particularly interested in playing with sandcastles. Or indeed seeing (not playing with at this stage) people wearing nothing I was not particularly inclined to loving it whilst I burned. I always burn. Nothing good comes of beaches for me. Now most people say swim, I love swimming, but that means, burning, sun tan lotion and passing out for 4 hours in the heat (place your bets on how will I manage in Egypt now). Mum loves the sun and being on the beach and the parents (mum) were being somewhat stubborn in their reluctance to let me skulk at the campsite in the shade. So hauled along I was and told to wear a hat and slather on this thick white goopy stuff that I was told was sun cream, but looked like Lard. Smelled like it too. I still managed to burn to toasty charcoalyness the tips of my shoulders, the top of and down the inside of my cleavage. Sore sore sore. But my face was fine and I didn't have a bright red streak up my scalp where my parting was. I keep having to move the parting an inch along every time I go out so although I have a stripy scalp, one area doesn't become too bad.



So enter yesterday's hat shop trawl. Hat shopping seems to amuse me tremendously despite the fact I am buying something that is essentially frivolous what will have limited use. We found some pith helmets, a security hat and a Korean (or was it Vietnamese?) ones. I think I am being haunted by my dad's hat preference, there must be some type of hat phenotype that the man could tell with some extra innate sense (genotype is what your genes say you can be, phenotype is actually what you look like). It was bizarre, and really scary, try this, or try this, these are lovely, whilst I am screaming "Nnnnnooooooooo" in my head. one even was the same colour as his hat. But I managed to escape to the floppy hat end and proceeded to flounce (I think, I certainly tried to flounce), head mosh (owww by the way, how do people not end up with a sore neck?) or bouncing around to get the brim to wibble about whilst giggling like a complete idiot. If I could be bothered I'd maintain that I was merely testing how far it shaded me. Whilst CGBF watched, perfectly dignified and amused. He really did make spotting the spacer really easy. I wasn't much better at home though.



Here's my hat and some other stuff we got (as well as the second of the Sirdar blur shawls that I included in there because I'm not sure what knitting to take, choices choices).



We also got imodium since my Auntie went on a Nile cruise and was sick the length of it and back. I think she's been sick the length of everywhere she goes on holiday (besides Moscow). We got a rather military looking 2 litre water bottle (the shop did army supplies too), some water purification tablets, odourless garlic pills, miraculous sun cream (I'm not allergic to it, the only one in the whole of Aberdeen that I'm not allergic to. A miracle that).

Ummmm I also got this thing which is like a Hijab. Thats it on the Blur shawl (to be posted asap) and beside the hat and my first weaving project.

Muslim woman (I usually end up spelling that muslin) wear these in Egypt and I've decided to wear one (under the hat, protect my nose), not only in respect for the local's beliefs but apparently you get a bit more peace from hawkers and respect from them. The account I read said that people were more welcoming, they could go into the less touristy bits and got charged less. It also kept the sand out of their hair and their hair out of their faces. I can't even manage the latter with my hair tied back so if this helps I'll be happy. All good as far as I'm concerned.

I've played hunt-the-passport and won, all I need to do is go clothes shopping. :(

We tried but I think the Yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck, what is that? oh, ok, yuck was wearing CGBF and since besides the eye incident the day was a good one we abandoned it.

I also successfully and totally accidentally poked myself in the eye with an insurance brochure when queuing for the money exchange. My eyes were streaming for about 20 minutes so I could barely see and it was agony. I was so sore and kept giving people accidental grumpy looks, growling at CGBF (who was rather amused at my grumpiness) and having to apologise. I got lots of sympathy and assurances that it wasn’t a good idea and I shouldn't repeat it. CGBF also laughed me once he’d determined that I was ok. I was worried I’d pierced my eye or it was streaming that badly, but somehow I think that aqueous humour is thicker than tears.

Here is a picture of the Sirdar blur shawl, I started a new on Monday in purple (that's it to the side). Abandon all gauge all who knitted here applies only to the first one so far. Thankfully.

There is my first weaving and the latest addition to my stash, more of the blur before it sells out.

This is a better picture of my first weaving. Its very...... square and ummm short for a scarf, but there wasn't much that can be done about that. Besides starting again that is.

I also saw this in the front window of a shop!

Right, I'm off to try and join a knitting blog ring.

Knitting on, and on, and on and on and on

You know when your are working on a project that is best described as never ending. Usually a bottom up shawl. Certainly in this case its ups and lows in the joy. its good its good, starting to remember the pattern and zoom. Then at the end of the row, it gone. Slogging it, slog, slog, some more slog (can you use the word slog like that? I suppose I should know, CGBF is an English degree with extra fancy stuffs. Don't remember what the non science Honours upgrade is called). Anyway (the prologue) knit knit knit, done loads, knit knit knit, must be almost there, been knitting for ages and then you hit the halfway mark. Halfway done, only halfway. You can just feel your sanity drain away as your eyes shrivel and dry up. Or that maybe the fact that I've ben staring at it or the tv all day. I love it, but when its the non pattern row Arrrggghhhhhhhhhhhh sob.

I feel rather stagnant today and I am having trouble with the blog. What do you write about and blaggh. Like everyone there are those little amusing things that happen in day to day life that you want to write about. But happens if someone at work reads about it? Everything is about appearances and to be honest its stressing me. A lot.

I was more than a bit of a pleb and in a fit of pride pointed out my Lindawings shawl to one of The Girls. Now The Girls (their formal title. Or description) are really nice, I like them. But still I am kicking myself, just agonising by what I did. Why did I do it? I'd gone up to get their opinion on a shawl colour for the Hap shawl. Told her about the other one and when the picture of my one came up I just didn't think. Oooh, that's my one. And now I'm almost no I'm actually dreading posting. She was busy at the time so I hope she didn't go onto it. What happens if she decided or decides to go back on. I feel awful.

So I'm going to think about the knitting/ yarn. I cut off the weaving (have I mentioned that? hmm). I found that the yarn, despite being part acrylic the outside frayed. I was weaving away and noticed that it was barely there. As worn as ummmm, a ummm, I can't think of anything that isn't rude. It was worn. Anyway, repaired one, ok, spotted another, it was the third that gave me the idea to stop and restart. But what did I do when I cut it off? I cut a heddle too. Superglue doesn't repair them may I just say. I've tied it to the back and when I rewarp it I'll do one per dent instead of every second one. I think the outer ones being forced out is what did the damage. I only hope it isn't to tight now and the fabric isn't going to be stiff. Can't have it being stiff and hard.


Ummm, the Lesley Blur shawl is finished. But it is tooooooo big. My tension is usually too tight so I over compensated and it was too loose and munched into a third ball of yarn. Ooops. Its for a short person. This is the same height as them. Which isn't going to work as a day to day wearing shawl, we'll lose then in the middle of it. Have to launch an expedition in the folds of the shawl to try and find her. But Anneylambie (who was second on the list for one of these) is taller and it my just work as a shawl-come-blanket. It is so cosy and it a tug of wills to not snuggle up to it myself.

My fingerless mittens are as far as I can go without the yarn I need. I've run out. Again. Same pattern and I've run out. Or used most of the yarn as warp lengths so its essentially out.

Harris Socks are coming alone. Not finished yet but they are my bussing socks so that's ok. I may get an aran pattern and use some of my Debbie bliss yarn to make him socks (because I think these maybe too small, lets hear it for denial and assorted flying manoeuvres to evade it. The. Sock. Shall. Work. I tell you).

Hat.
I'm ignoring it.

Ummmm. Think that's it besides the blue hand incident. This is one of those things I've been struggling to decide should I share. We were at an exhibition. A big one full of important people, very much best behaviour time. Chatting away to somewhere and I noticed a smear of ink. Wondered where did it come from and thought nothing much more. Few stalls on and there's another, larger smear. Think about it and no closer to figuring out where it came from. Few stalls on, same again. But this time from the balls of my fingers up is solid blue. I am having to chat and keep one palm downwards. And failing miserably. This is more than slight disconcerting.
It clicks, I picked up a pen and stuck it in my back pocket and its broken. has it dyed the trousers, does it show? What knickers am I wearing? Is my bum cheek blue? One of my work mates very kindly to a constant stream of "I'm tying my show lace, I'm tying my show lace" checked it out. no blue. Now to find a toilet. Frantic scrubbing to clear the hand which stubbornly remained faintly indigo to the end of the day. Now can I see enough of my bum cheek to see if its blue? Ha. Luckily it hadn't soaked through.

That's enough from me. I'm away to stare at the Lindawings shawl.

Weaving away. Finally.

Weaving away.

I took a day to recover and the next day (yesterday) I wove.
Tied up the front ones, tried to tie them on, used tightly tied yarn to try and strap them on (I can't believe I just typed that).
Then... I found the diagram of how to tie the warp on. I did the back ties wrong so the centre ones (10 strands each) were thicker, they bulged and took up the yarn quicker so the outer 2 were slack. And my written instructions were fallign out of lying funny and all the time I was intwined in the castle and through various inner parts of the loom with my head under the top board of the desk which was lunging at me in ita attempts to brain me. Arraggh. This instigated swearing, all of it. Especially when I discovered I finally got it reasonably even I was winding it the wrong way. Yea it came slack and I had to repeat it. Twice because the second time I didn't twig and got it wrong again. Finally. Wound the right way and....... only the outer 2 slack. Rummage rummage and....I found a stick that came in the kit. After a time spent back inside the loom (i'm so lucky its not carnivorous. Or if it is, that it wasn't hungry) I wedged it into the castle slot (its collapsable this castle. Incongrougous in its tradition namesake.) Hope that keeps it tight ((as a Tiger) how and in what way is a tiger tight I ask.)

Seek paper. reject paper, I couldn't find paper I was willing to use so I used one of the sticks that came in the kit. Twiddle the twiddly tighteny thing to pull the warp tight. Push 1 nd 4 up, (aka do as the pictures tell me to). Pull some down, wonder why its sitting int he middle. vaguely wonder that is, then forget it, accidentially ignore it, ignorance is good sometimes. Stick the stick into the center of the warp. Pull out the reed pins and stick them into the castle.

Beat (oh didn't that feel good. I even like the sound of doing that, beating it. :) ) Beat the warp, finally ha ha, get one back. Ha. Lace my shuttle (its a stick shuttle) and put it through the warp. Right, what do I do nect, twiddle the castle paddles, swap them around. (sounds like a strange boat doesn't it? Makes it sound like it should have water wings and a inflatable duck ring.).

Figure that since its fraying and getting fuzzy that swap paddles then beat is better than neutral, beat, put into gear, beat. Do 5. Rejoice
Swap colours. Ignore wobbly edges, the fact I've pulled the green outer edges too tight and the first 5 rows are a bit loose. I can attempt to tightne it later

I can weave. Wow.

Now all I need is a warping thing. And a lie down.

Weekend weaving

You know vast quantities of cussing doesn't make the Loom Loom Loom Loom loom (sung top the He-Man theme tune thanks to all who wish to join in with my musical tendancies) work. I'm not even sure I swore directly at the Loom. If I did I can be recorded ab being definitly not a Loom fonz should such a thing exist. It may, it may not. My exposure to the fonz is what was shown on family guy on the Church of Fonzy episode. Not exactly an expert in the making. OMG I just got attacked by a fruit fly! What do you say to that? You'd think flying up my nose'd be bad enough, but why won't it go away?

I have, after 6 monthsish of crying ahem looking at the Loom and running away screaming in panic ahem panicing I finally got part of a warp on. Part, the back half. to do so I needed the following things

1 Me (calm and compus mentus)
2 Loom (made up) and loom kit
3 CGBF (support of many kinds)
4 yarn for the warp (King Cole Mirage in Istanbul and Edmondton)
5 a cup of calming tea (Yogi brand and rather yummy)
6 a bed with a wire head and foot board (seriously)
7 grief for not doing it before
8 contract to finish it by the end of August as motivation (lets hear it for panic and leaving it until the last possible day)
9 a generous license to cuss and a vide variety of cuss words (at the yarn, my own insanity for getting involved in this sort of thing, bits of the loom, dropped bits of Loom kit and CGBF)
10 most of Sunday afternoon
11 Pizza, decidadly not spectular onion bhajis and naan breads for noms afterwards. i wasn't inclined towards cooking or doing anything afte. Degenerating into a tempermental "want food, thirsty, Raaaar stressed, come here you" does not incline you towards culinary creativeness.

Having this warped up makes me long to go and finish my cabelled gauntlets and then hung out a glove pattern to keep the actual digets warm.

So what did I get done? Well I and CGBF (manual said I'd need a friend so I opted for CGBF instead. Immediacy is good. He didn't complain about being hijacked). But things that are hijacked don't usually complain do they. I should say he was kidnapped but that not really accurate, but saying he's a ship or a plane isn't accurate either.

Either way I had a "friend", I had yarn and I had a loom. Quick meditation to settle down and off we go.

Check the necessary list. Problem I have no warping board. Or cup of tea actually but the warping board seems to be a more of an essential (although CGBF would have started arguing that point, he soon changed his mind. His back hurt worse than mine.). I could make one but I have none of the wood and...no drill and the slight concern that I wouldn't be able to make it more robust. no point the pegs bending. See its a board, with pegs in so you can measure out the warp (yarn that go the length of the loom or the warp) without it tangling (which it really wants to do, trust me). Slightly more pressing is the self imposed deadline. So off we go. No warping board, can't measure it out. What is it? Scarves, of them, one for me friend Linda and one for me. Weavers apparently believe in doing things in bulk. why do one when you can do many. Well I'm limiting it to 2. 3 maybe good but the other person I'd make one for has a really pale creamy complexion and I think the colours wouldn't help her. But if this works I have some more of the green and some nice pale blue and I'll be able to send her that. What with her about to start into an Australian summer I'm sure she'll love it. Anyway, the yarn still needs to me measured.... Has to be and I don't think I can do it the way it says. So how do I measure it.

Hmmmm. Right, the long ways bit is the warp. Check the book and 5 sheets (10 sides of notes!) Arraggh no idea what's happening. Regress to the pictures that came with the loom. I need a good length and I have nothing to measure the warp with. Well I could go from the back stick thing which is tied to the twiddly back twisty thing with the dial nob thing on the side, make sure its the right way. Then I can pull it through the stringy bits that have been coloured in through the teeth thing. Then I can flail around with the tape measures of screams, make up a good length, twist around a chair (pin in place with CGBF, must not entangle around him. Provide him with tea and a book, that'll distract him) then to the bed post and back. CGBF, cool and thoughtfully suggests using the head and foot board. That's about right. Double the length (up and down) and no stick. Decide again 2 colours is good. Centre purple because its the strongest green, purple and half wide green on the outside...
Do the purple first then the green take them off and then tie them to the stick at the back which still needs to be a certain way around. Ok. Twisty twisty, some yarn flinging later.... we have warp. Cut it off utilise CGBF's death grip to hold it whilst I do a chain thing. Crochet in huge.
Right, besides a sore back we are ready to go.

Intertwine arms up, under and through loom bits, realisation how strange a plant Honeysuckle is because it wants to do this (needs to actually but at the minute so do I. Mutual survivorship is at stake-I kid you not) lament the tragedy that is the fact that there isn't anywhere else to put it besides this table. Lament also about how there is no space to move the table. try moving table. Stop straining. It hasn't moved, decline trying again. Tie it to the back stick which we have untied. Unwisely maybe. Spend 20 minutes getting tangled in the loom retying it because untying it wasn't the best idea. Consider tying the warp to it under a desk, the castle and between the heddle holder thing bits. Ah ha, I've just found a "Warning do not enter sign". Wonder if I should (after witing CGBF on it) (note that says should, not could) print that out and glue it to something of CGBF's, or the bathroom door or maybe the kitchen (that'd soo impress the owner). Oooh, my trousers.... or undies.
Take 5 minutes to sit down and fully appreciate how close to further insanity I have come. Literally I did not feel the breeze because I was in that tiny tiny space between the action and the breeze appearing. And that's the only reason I did not spot it. Scary. Contemplate taking a drink of calming tea it takes a
Next, check thing, its 10 dents per inch (DPI), ummm pull thread through every second one.

Right, unchain it, untangle it, rechain with longer length on the other end. Bang head, swear, get tangled, swear some more, get warp tangled (B^**£ry ar$e) untangle, get yarn in paper cut, swear profusely. Miss fact CGBF is almost hyperventilating at the language. Yell at CGBF. Swear, swear loads at and about the tangle. You'd thing there was some invisible cat tangling it right before my eyes. Just how much can it tangle? breathing=oxygen, not fuel for obscenities. Breathe and try to be at peace,be at peace with the yarn. Not that yarn, hand spun. I shall ply it later, reward myself, sooth my soul (ha ha haahhahahahahahaha ha.)
Brief prayer to whatever angels are listening. Untangle it WOOOOOOHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


Pull through the ties thing in order of the little flappy things. Shriek as little flappy purple sticks. Eeeek. There is nothing more alarming as the chink clink clink clink of something falling from something that was previously stuck..... B^**£ry have I broken it. Breathe breathe. Get the courage up to look and.... Well at least I know where the missing screw was hidden. Well no evidence of beer indicates why it may have come out of hiding. Obviously it took 5 months for it do fully check in there. Anyway, look at odd looking screw (that only implicates hardware items... I'm not helping am I?) decide not to swap it for the matching one. Place it with the other odd looking screws in the stash. Pill out Heddle (is that right?) The things that have holes in that you thread your yarn through. Watch CGBF disappear around the corner to watch Star Trek DS9. Leaving all alone, he just abandoned me for the TV and.... Morrow wind. Sob. i'll do that with his tea some of these days.

I need a break. Abandon it and follow Him and knit on the Blur Shawl (getting there, I'm very happy with its progress) I couldn't stand the thought of swearing much more in such a short space of time. You'd think I was channelling a Docker for a bit.

Return.
Feel glad I've already determined the middle tooth space (dent means tooth and I'm not sure if I should call it a dent. I'm also not entirely sure why I'm not sure about this) and marked it (yes its been marked, condemned as it were. Pity I didn't mark it by putting the tie through the two teeth on either side, so I could leave it on and not have to cut it off when I take the thing out -I think its the reed, but obviously despite making 6 sheets of notes I can't remember) with a blue length of yarn (acrylic-so it stays put).
Do one colour -pull through the heddles from 4-1 (right to left or back to front). Then pull through the Reed (sticking with my earlier delusion). Do happy partially chair based dance for the loom and do second colour. WOOOOHOOOOO.
Miss two mistakes, one colour isn't through a heddle, one is through one twice. Crap
I officially have a warp thing on the go.

All goes quiet. This, I can actually do myself. Facilitation CGBF to escape back through. Finish pulling them all through..

Light headed, stressed, sore throat and covered in yarn. Which was bought out with my usual standards of "natural"-colours or fibre. Its fraying. B^**£ry B^**£ry Ar$e.
Abandon it.
I will return within 4 days.

Regressing.

I just realised something.
Years ago I stopped reading books because of or for the pretty pictures. Now I read books for the content. And as I age (I still am convinced I'm 18. Recently i've settled for 23.) I learn to appreciate the content more and more. Do you know what I've realised? I'm again buying books for the pretty pictures..... Not just to look at as an "oooh, thats pretty" fairly luddite style appreciation addition. Heyy its free why not? But now I look for pictures to pore over and appreciate, as if I was 2.

Knitting books. Bought for the pretty pictures. And the charts.
Its true what they say, it keeps you youthful whilst you look old.
I am also delighted knitting is becoming trendy. Pity the rest of the world don't appreciate that more.

But I got some knitting books.
Victorian Lace Today Paperback by Jane Sowerby
Lace Style by Pam Allen
Shawls Two on the Go! (Vogue Knitting on the Go)

I'm not sure if the latter was a good idea. Its a US book and converting the needle size is harder when you've misplaced your needle gauge thing. Hang on actually, nope. Its misplaced. Pants.

I'm now tempted by Shetland Hap Shawls Then and Now and Heirloom Knitting both by-Sharon E Miller. Both books and a stack of gorgeous individual patterns in assorted weights can be got from her own website www.heirloom-knitting.co.uk. I've effectively banned myself from the website for another month until payday next month. Mid month....place bets on how long I'll last?
Well I'll delay because only one of the ordered book has arrived. Texts CGBF, THEY ARE HERE Wooohoooo:(.
Well now I'll delay until I've had a look at them then I'll decide when to get that pair of books. Because I am still bereft of a square pattern for the wedding shawl. I may need to trawl on Ravelry a bit more (which is hardly a chore) but it seems to be mainly triangle shawls that are available. But I did stumble (metaphorically speaking) on a Hap shawl, from there into these books. They sound fantastic.
Apparently Wool for Ewe is getting shawl patterns in which will be also fantastic :) .
I think I'm getting addicted :( (because of the cost and space that I do not have consumption) or :) cos I have more books and especially books that have knitting patterns.

But anyway Wool for Ewe. As if I needed an excuse to go there more often than I do. But I tend to save things up and go on a binge. Then a few days later I go on a second one. the most recent one involved me screaming a girly fashion. I couldn't help it, I didn't know the tape measure had a button on it. All I knew was that the tape got yanked out of my hands and a scream/jump ensued that caused laughter.

My workmates are slightly fascinated by knitting clubs (how can you be slightly fascinated? That's like saying something's slightly nuclear. Well they are wow, that'd be something to see without the intention of making the effort to see it). I mentioned about the Aberdeen stitch and bitch (which I got to go to last week :) ) and questions flew. What do you do? Knit? just knit? No we chat and look at books (and breathe, if its in a pub can drink, and munch crisps)


So how am I spending my weekend. Hope fully not filled with CGBF because he is going on a manly few days camping with whichever of the Bobs that have been rounded up and his birthday present.
Somehow I doubt but it maybe possible that he can prove to the Bobs that all things are possible by getting up early on a Saturday morning. That may not sound like much but it is. It is not only definitely much but was shocking, torturous and totally threw my last Saturday off. That may sound like over exaggerating but I assure you, its not.
Friday nights if he's about we sit and appreciate each other's company, blather and "watch tv/a DVD" (its just back ground noise). Whilst I knit. We stay up late (see the wee small hours together) and totally screw up our circadian rhythms because we are maddddd. We both regularly get up at 6 and find that regular hours is best for out health and detrimental to the frequency of falling asleep on the bus or "rickity mobile" that only bounces when I'm likely to and drooling down our fronts (seen it once, ghastly). SO CGBF sleeps in Saturday morning and I get up early. Do a bit of knitting, spinning, cry at that Loom, go on Ravelry and generally have some me time with the yarn. just me and the yarn or Roving. When I've had my me time then usually CGBF gets his breakfast in bed. But he got up early and it really threw me. No me time. Arraggggh. Poor guy.
Tomorrow, he's hopefully sleep in. Now I may need to drug him (http://www.celestialseasonings.com/products/detail.html/herbal-teas/sleepytime)
, for this, but for the price of peace I'll happinly crack one out. For the record, he typicially gets told. Afterwards. For the other record, his parents know (they don't mind). bit I digress (The Prologue) they'll head off with some ingredients (I'll prepare them), set up the present- a cooking camping tripod, with a cooking bowl hung under it. They fire the food in, let it cook away. Short while later Nom nom nom.


Also I had... a moment... A female one.
Whaaattttt? is this not unusual? Female I am but not stereotypical when it comes to shoes... Not really interested.
I love my new pair of hiking boots.
Typically my inclination to shoes is, a few things, do they leek? Fit? cost a huge pile of money?
Well I got new ones which had an accident but that's by the by (can't like then when the side has split) and the new pair is grey and ..... Purple (with bits of black). Yes I am female,
I am female, see me be pleased by the colour (doesn't quite have the same ring to it does it). And be impressed by the fact that they match my socks. Well maybe impressed is the wrong word. And match is a bit strong but I do have purple socks (with black bits) (and vice versa) and they are so cosy.
Why is that good? Well it is very showing about the weather here that I felt the need to but winter boots in early August. And I have tried them (fairly gingerly) out in a puddle, but it wasn't too deep. And some wet grass. Rather than be ambivalent (I'll get there soon enough) I likes them. Its a great thing that I can afford new shoes when you consider that so many people cannot even afford food, let alone shoes.

I think thats me. Except for the fact I've just filled my shoe with fruit juice. Araggh Buggery.

Soo much to knit so lttle incentive.

Not only is this very late but I am really sleepy. And at work. I'm not that busy. But here we are after a lot of disruption to my Saturday morning I now finally have peace to blog. I like to be alone for this and since I'm at work he can't be distracting.He got up early and wanted to chat and I was rather suprised and about driven to distraction. Usually we stay up late, disrupt our sleeping pattern with chat and knitting (that'd be me). But no, he was up and loooking company. Anyway, I'm bored, therefore I'm daydreaming of yarn. Squishy squishy gorgeous lovely yarn. And I'm tired.

I have projects with me... well one project. The socks. But right now I'd almost rather count the number of feet in a single pair instead of work on them.
It'd probably be disastrous too I am that groggy and out of it. The only way I could focus on the would be if there were a sword of Damocles moment, but with a metal DPN instead of a sword. A pointy metal DPN, with knitting on them impaled on them. Waiting to become unravelled as they fell, to impale me. or I maybe was knitting with a tip-Ex paintbrush tipped knitting needle. It'd need to be a special type instead of a traditional proper knitting needle. That'd be thrilling.

So why am I feeling knitting bereft?
I have many projects. This should negate the previous statement you'd think. But you'd be thinking wrong. I am extremely bored and frustrated.

Hat-needs maths. Arragggggh
Shawl, bit big and for some reason it and I seem to enter a realm of stick when we meet. I'm not sure who is sticking to what, or maybe who is the most static, but we stick together. And it is an absolute bugger to knit when your yarn is stuck to the palm of your hand and shawl to the other arm. Whilst the unravelled length of yarn is acting like a clingy child and has glued itself to your jumper. Glad its glued to the jumper, I got flour down the front of my trousers and I'm unconvinced that hovering got it all out. I can't see any, but considering that hoover is the most useless piece of crap ever I'm doubtful it did anything beyond making my leg cold and spraying the kitchen with the flour and bread crumbs that weren't on my jeans. Pooft, all over the place in a dry ice/london smog cloud. I need a new hover.

Anyway (the prologue) I have 2 shawls,
1 too complex to do when sitting down totally focusing on it, let alone on a giggling clatter mobile (bus name changes dependant on what occurs to me at the time)
the other is too large to take on a but. 140ish stitches on a bus journey, not going to happen. 140ish stitches of static glue loving Mohair, also not happening. More chance of me knitting with my tongue that getting it done in a rattling bouncing Mrrrrrrrrggggghhhhing bus (there is a noisy one that makes horrible noises at random)which sooner or later willl fill with kids. I've not only started, doubled the length of this, but I've also had to rip it back. Same place, same error and I have no idea why or what I've done. I have stitch issues and ripped back to see where they originated so I could fix it. I located a dodgy looking bit. But I've ripped back to the previous line, so it should still be there. Its gone. What's the chances of it turning up when I start knitting again?

Ummm, my gloves, now I come to think of it. I should start the second one (requires me chasing down yarn and needles). No reason I couldn't start this other than lack of effort I shall dig it out tonight because the socks, are not doing it for me. Then once they are finished.... Another pair as festive present is needed too so if I can get on a bender that'd be great. I've also offered to make a pair for CGBF, I've managed to find manly colour for him that he liked. 407 All flamey reds and oranges with a deep rich (Claret 412) red for the cuff, heel, and toes. All Twilley's of Stamford freedom wool (the chunky one).
I'm definity into the pattern because Saturday past I finished CGBF's mum's pair. Also in Twilley's of Stamford freedom wool. This one nice blues (415, lookie here http://www.cucumberpatch.co.uk/freedom_wool.htm) that descended into the realm of disaster when I ran out of yarn. Nowhere had any. So I ripped the cuff off in the assumption that the green 411 CGBF picked (badly) or the navy (423) might work. Not a chance. Pants. Wool for Ewe got some in a few months later (took out the other colour I was after but got in a very nice different shades of purple one 413, I pretty much like anything in or with purple and this one is very nice). I have found 430. Which would have worked. Had I known it existed. Damn, you always find out about these things afterwards don't you.

Anyway (The Prologue) CGBF's mum's pair so don't match, there is more cables on one and I had to try compact one (strip it off my arm pushing downwards to compact it) and desperately stretching the other desperately trying to get that extra half cm to get them the same length. Tragicially for the gloves we were going out for Dinner with them and there was shrieks and tears of frustration and I gave up on doing repairs so they could get them at the time.

I also could start that pair for a mystery person (Hi :) I can't mention her in case she gets referred to this. CGBF's been threatening it :(.

Has anyone else noticed how they get dry eyes when they are tired? From what I've learnt, you blink and your eyelids lubricate (there has got to be a better word) your eyes. I blink more (especially when I have the tired stupid thing going then I blink loads in confusion). So your eyes lubricate, blink loads, lubricated more frequently. So how come my eye's are dry and gritty. Maybe they are off dosing somewhere and that's why they aren't working. Just abandoned me because I was alert and kept waking up last night. Some pleb's car alarm kept going off until well past midnight. So my brain decided the best thing, would be to wake up at random intervals just to check it'd stopped. Now personally, being the better person and ignoring it (sleeping) in is preferable. But nooooo, alert and suspicious my mind was. Actually CGBF doing his furnace impression didn't help so there maybe an aspect of survival instinct there too. Frazzle sizzle sizzle isn't be a nice way to wake up. I'm positive I have a hand shaped burn across my back. I can't say I enjoyed it much, especially when he decides to hold on. Persuading a sleeping person to let go isn't an effective use of time. Even if it is possible to escape he starts chasing me across the bed into the corner. In his sleep. But go to do something as simple as kiss his cheek any other time? 0-72 instantly. And into a bear hug/total body lock. the ones that mean you can't more or breathe at times. All without any indication or really altering breathing rhythm. Shocking lightning CGBF. Like a strange spring loaded Gryphon trap (how that'd work I do not know but it may just explain the really broad (and lovely) shoulders). I loves him.

Anyway thats me for the minute. But tommow (I hope) I'm going to write about...radioactive yellow gloop cake.

Shawls come, grow and unravel. Rapidly

I realised that I should be a bit more interesting on my blog.
What am I knitting, a shawl, one not happy (decidedly teenage acting actually, I've apparently got it all wrong), one fluctuating, a hat that only sees light on sundays as well as the Harris socks.

Socks, yes, that all pervading force in my life at the minute. The socks.
I've just finished the ribbing a few days ago on the second and already made my, "bugger it its not noticeable" mistake. I did 3 of 1 set patten lines instead of 2. But since this yarn unplies itself rapidly when you try to unpick it I declined to unpick it and pull it back a stitch at a time. This stuff cannot be ripped back by the row (circle maybe? they aren't rows because its knit on the round. Maybe its I can't pull them back by the round instead. Makes more sense). These need to be picked back stitch by stitch. 60x5= lots. So no, I'm not doing that for ummm.... calculator says 300. No. Not doing that. I have as much chance of getting those stitches back on easily as pizza has surviving 10 minutes in our house. Or our ripe blueberries around that thrush that only seems to eat them when I'm looking out the window. How does it know? I look out, it flies down and starts pieing out (to pie, you pie, she/she/it/they are pies. Think being an utter gutbag). Its a right chubby bird dicing with death I tell you. How they haven't stuck in its throat I can't predict (stretchy oesophagus muscles must have all the flexibility of new knicker elastic that is about to be twanged by someone annoying who has no sense of self preservation. Just like that thrush). I hope this increases the chance of it surviving to breed next year. More thrushes are a good thing.

Anyway, I digress (The Prologue) the sock, its coming along fast (oh how I am delighted), I have some pictures of it with Marvin on my work computer. I can't put it on but I'm going to (updated) I've ordered the computer at home another bluetooth dongle so I am a bit better at adding pictures. I also need to put on the hat and shawls.

Ohhh Shawls. The nightsongs (or Lindawings as its becoming considered) had a mistake so I needed to rip it back a bit. So it was set aside. Not only because I was a bit downhearted, but because I am a bit of a pattern anti fidelity pattern hussy. Yes I was enamoured with the Lesley fuzz (that almost sounds wrong. No actually it sounds wrong, completely wrong.) But its had a bit of a misfortune. I have no idea what I've done, but I've done something and I have toooo many stitches. 10 stitches do NOT appear out of nowhere and considering I consider myself able to count, I must consider that the numbers of stitches are correct. Therefore I must consider a mistake. Thats a lot of considerings. But this requires consideration is required. So every day I rip back another few rows and when the sob starts. I stop. And work on the Lindawings shawl.
Just so I can go form one thing that is heart wounding, to something that can turn me into a bloodshot eyed screaming raving loony. Well more screamy anyway, I'm already a vocal and screamy person to tell the truth. Maybe I should have more practice knitting from patterns before starting something as large as a shawl. But no matter. Why?

I love this pattern. Jam ahem wedge the worksheet in a book and let it unfold as you knit. And you do see the pattern unfold (maybe this is normal with all lace, I've never done any before so I can't tell). I love the pattern now I am ish becoming ish able to read the pattern. Enough to know when I have muncked up or if a yo is in the wrong place. I am back into the habit of doing a few rows every night. Even if it is the equivalent of a few rows. That is to say I've ripped the same part of a row out several times because the upside down Y thing with the vertical line going down to the same level as the forks of the Y is not looking right. Its poaching on a stitch from the next leaf and that's not right. That happened last night and despite knitting over over an hour, I only had 2 lines to show for it. And I feel pleased, because it doesn't matter that its only the second repeat and it was hardly any stitches. I got it right and added to it with added yea, I was right, that wasn't right. What did I do wrong? I have no idea. but its fixed now and I'm happy.

Other News, I have persuaded a friend to allow me to make her the Aeolian shawl (Knitty Linky). But the shoulderette form, and I've picked the yarn. Its here http://www.shetlandwoolbrokers.co.uk/epages/BT2741.sf/secDuF_fBWppSg/?ObjectPath=/Shops/BT2741/Products/%22Lace%20Yarn%22/SubProducts/L20B . The colour L1A is the pick for the wedding shawl.

I really adore what these people do. Putting things into context two of my uncle have sheep. And when I was speaking to one he said it was hardly worth the effort selling them. They get a pittance. If it wasn't for the fact it was wet and he hadn't been able to shear them I'd have bought one of his. As it is I don't want to post raw wool so he may keep me something in the winter clip. these peopl buy the wool from 80% I think) the local crofters for a decent price, sort the fleece and sell it. In the natural colours and dyed. I love that idea. Which is why my cousin (the aforementioned uncle, who is as awesome as his daughter) is getting her weddig shawl spun from it.

What else. We made plum jam, which is very sweet (i'd worry about my pancreas, but these things seem to be purely decorative, I don't eat them). The last one is also distinctly part of, or a member of a closely related part of a section of society which has a fearable faction within it, it truly is, a widely feared faction in society. Because you can't tell which is which and are you going to be safe. Widely feared for many reasons. Terrors of society, yes, (some, the feared bit) with their strage hair colours, piercing stares, cutting looks and comments and tuts as well as the most scary fact. The fact that they look at you and they know, irrespective of whether or not you've been good, they know you haven't. And they know.Your.Mum.
Yes. Its da da daaaaa its the.... blue rinse brigade. Complete with handbags and glasses. you don't see them much up here.

i've forgotten where I was going with that train of thought. Ummmmmmmmmm.......ummmmm.....ummmm....still no idea.....ummmm....that hasn't helped. crap.

Oh yea, the last jar (which has a half jar) has a purple perm rinse. The ring was hot and caused it to bubble and we didn't do anything about it in our vain attempt to quick-get-it-out-before-it-all-sticks-to-the-insides-of-the-maslin-pan.
Its a purple rice jam. Ahem, purple rinse jam. Get it right. It amused me.

There has been no movement on the pineapple jam and I'm so not doing it on my own. I'm not a fan of pineapple (too sweet) and It'd be much more fun score out soothing to let/get CGBF do the chopping of it into the necessary bits instead. For me anyway.

Anyway, culinary delights. mine has been the new dish kits the spice shop in Aberdeen has got in. I love that shop, there are so many fascinating things you can look at. As if you were a 5 year old instead of a mature (ah ha hahahaha I don't feel it) adult. I love going in there, just so many new things to work up your bravery towards trying to see what you can make. We got Biryani which was amazingly good. Cooked it with carrots a leek, courgette and mushrooms (what needed eating). And what was nice (in a not nice way) There was actual small chunks of the spices that went into it which shows its not flavourings that goes into it. Its natural and every bite is different and its smells lovely. But that's the bad thing, you get little hard chunks. Potential Mouth food shrapnel but nothing serious. we also got Laksa (I think) that needs coconut milk added. It has tamarind paste and you need to cook it for a bit before the horrible unholy wretched stinking smell departs leaving your house reeking. Once your past that stage though, it sweetens and it smells much nicer and you get a lovely dish with a nice bit of heat behind it. But I do add a whole tin instead of a half to make it more manageable. Mee Goreng is also really nice.

I'm obviously experimenting in the far east food and loving it. Sadly score out tragically it doesn't always agree with CGBF's inner workings. But my Thai green curry can be very hit or miss. But it'd help if I measured stuff out rather than firing in anything that needed to be eaten as well as stuff I fancied. Then watching a splodge of the paste in with a tin of coconut milk. I'd say pouring but its a thick paste so in order to get it off the spoon that you almost have to swing around your head like that highland throw the hammer thing. But with a with a sudden downwards swoop instead of an upwards one finishing with a whack on the pot to add a sudden stop before it will come off. Last night's was very think and when you eat it the burn hits you "bloody hell this is HOOOOTTTTT burny burny burny Hotttttt". Then when it fades away there is taste. Then you repeat. Sometimes you let it get almost cool then you try it. but nope. That BURNNNNNNNNNN is still there.


One last thing... Its my little brother's birthday in the coming weeks (almost 3). So therefore its time to start panicing about what present to get him. The one without a neck. They don't sell necks.
I have no idea what to get him. Crap.


The actual final point... I have not wove anything. Or warped it. I live in fear of it. I cried then I yelled at CGBF. :(

Shawls and misfires

I realised that I should be a bit more interesting on my blog.
What am I knitting, a shawl, one not happy (decidedly teenage acting actually, I've apparently got it all wrong), one fluctuating, a hat that only sees light on sundays as well as the Harris socks.

Socks, yes, that all pervading force in my life at the minute. The socks.
I've just finished the ribbing a few days ago on the second and already made my, "bugger it its not noticeable" mistake. I did 3 of 1 set patten lines instead of 2. But since this yarn unplies itself rapidly when you try to unpick it I declined to unpick it and pull it back a stitch at a time. This stuff cannot be ripped back by the row (circle maybe? they aren't rows because its knit on the round. Maybe its I can't pull them back by the round instead. Makes more sense). These need to be picked back stitch by stitch. 60x5= lots. So no, I'm not doing that for ummm.... calculator says 300. No. Not doing that. I have as much chance of getting those stitches back on easily as pizza has surviving 10 minutes in our house. Or our ripe blueberries around that thrush that only seems to eat them when I'm looking out the window. How does it know? I look out, it flies down and starts pieing out (to pie, you pie, she/she/it/they are pies. Think being an utter gutbag). Its a right chubby bird dicing with death I tell you. How they haven't stuck in its throat I can't predict (stretchy oesophagus muscles must have all the flexibility of new knicker elastic that is about to be twanged by someone annoying who has no sense of self preservation. Just like that thrush). I hope this increases the chance of it surviving to breed next year. More thrushes are a good thing.

Anyway, I digress (The Prologue) the sock, its coming along fast (oh how I am delighted), I have some pictures of it with Marvin on my work computer. I can't put it on but I'm going to (updated) I've ordered the computer at home another bluetooth dongle so I am a bit better at adding pictures. I also need to put on the hat and shawls.

Ohhh Shawls. The nightsongs (or Lindawings as its becoming considered) had a mistake so I needed to rip it back a bit. So it was set aside. Not only because I was a bit downhearted, but because I am a bit of a pattern anti fidelity pattern hussy. Yes I was enamoured with the Lesley fuzz (that almost sounds wrong. No actually it sounds wrong, completely wrong.) But its had a bit of a misfortune. I have no idea what I've done, but I've done something and I have toooo many stitches. 10 stitches do NOT appear out of nowhere and considering I consider myself able to count, I must consider that the numbers of stitches are correct. Therefore I must consider a mistake. Thats a lot of considerings. But this requires consideration is required. So every day I rip back another few rows and when the sob starts. I stop. And work on the Lindawings shawl.
Just so I can go form one thing that is heart wounding, to something that can turn me into a bloodshot eyed screaming raving loony. Well more screamy anyway, I'm already a vocal and screamy person to tell the truth. Maybe I should have more practice knitting from patterns before starting something as large as a shawl. But no matter. Why?

I love this pattern. Jam ahem wedge the worksheet in a book and let it unfold as you knit. And you do see the pattern unfold (maybe this is normal with all lace, I've never done any before so I can't tell). I love the pattern now I am ish becoming ish able to read the pattern. Enough to know when I have muncked up or if a yo is in the wrong place. I am back into the habit of doing a few rows every night. Even if it is the equivalent of a few rows. That is to say I've ripped the same part of a row out several times because the upside down Y thing with the vertical line going down to the same level as the forks of the Y is not looking right. Its poaching on a stitch from the next leaf and that's not right. That happened last night and despite knitting over over an hour, I only had 2 lines to show for it. And I feel pleased, because it doesn't matter that its only the second repeat and it was hardly any stitches. I got it right and added to it with added yea, I was right, that wasn't right. What did I do wrong? I have no idea. but its fixed now and I'm happy.

Other News, I have persuaded a friend to allow me to make her the Aeolian shawl (http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEspring09/KSPATTaeolian.php). But the shoulderette form, and I've picked the yarn. Its here http://www.shetlandwoolbrokers.co.uk/epages/BT2741.sf/secDuF_fBWppSg/?ObjectPath=/Shops/BT2741/Products/%22Lace%20Yarn%22/SubProducts/L20B . The colour L1A is the pick for the wedding shawl.

I really adore what these people do. Putting things into context two of my uncles have sheep. And when I was speaking to one he said it was hardly worth the effort selling them. They get a pittance. If it wasn't for the fact it was wet and he hadn't been able to shear them I'd have bought one of his. As it is I don't want to post raw wool so he may keep me something in the winter clip. These people buy the wool from 80% of the crofters (I think) for a decent price, sort the fleece and sell it. In the natural colours and dyed. I love that idea. Which is why my cousin (the aforementioned uncle, who is as awesome as his daughter) is getting her wedding shawl spun from it.

What else. We made plum jam, of which there are two things to note.
The first of which is very sweet (i'd worry about my pancreas, but these things seem to be purely decorative, I don't eat them, neither does he from what I can tell).
The second point is also distinctly part of, or a member of a closely related part of a section of society which has a fearable faction within it, it truly is, a widely feared faction in society. Because you can't tell which is which and are you going to be safe. Widely feared for many reasons. Terrors of society, yes, (some, the feared section) with their strange hair colours, piercing stares, cutting looks and comments and tuts as well as the most scary fact. The fact that they look at you and they know, irrespective of whether or not you've been good, they know you haven't. And they know.Your.Mum.
Yes. Its da da daaaaa its the.... blue rinse brigade. Complete with handbags and glasses. You don't see them much up here.

I've forgotten where I was going with that train of thought. Ummmmmmmmmm.......ummmmm.....ummmm....still no idea.....ummmm....that hasn't helped. crap.

Oh yea, the last jar (which has a half jar) has a purple perm rinse. The ring was hot and caused it to bubble and we didn't do anything about it in our vain attempt to quick-get-it-out-before-it-all-sticks-to-the-insides-of-the-maslin-pan and it set with the bubbles. Which are a paler purple than the rest of the jam. Before anyone thinks about suggesting scum, there wsan't any on it at that stage.
Its a purple rice jam. Ahem, purple rinse jam. get it right. It amused me.

There has been no movement on the pineapple jam and I'm so not doing it on my own. I'm not a fan of pineapple (too sweet) and It'd be much more fun score out soothing to let/get CGBF do the chopping of it into the necessary bits instead. For me anyway.

Anyway, culinary delights. Mine has been the new sauce kits that the spice shop in Aberdeen has got in. I love that shop, there are so many fascinating things you can look at. As if you were a 5 year old instead of a mature (ah ha hahahaha I don't feel it) adult. I love going in there, just so many new things to work up your bravery towards trying to see what you can make. We got Biryani which was amazingly good. Cooked it with carrots a leek, courgette and mushrooms (what needed eating). And what was nice (in a not nice way) There was actual small chunks of the spices that went into it which shows its not flavourings that goes into it. Its natural and every bite is different and its smells lovely. But that's the bad thing, you get little hard chunks (I got 2 bits of cinnamon). Potential Mouth food shrapnel but nothing serious. We also got Laksa (I think its spelt that way) that needs coconut milk added to make a rich creamy sauce. It has tamarind paste and you need to cook it for a bit before the horrible unholy wretched stinking smell departs leaving your house reeking. Once your past that stage though, it sweetens and it smells much nicer and you get a lovely dish with a nice bit of heat behind it. But I do add a whole tin instead of a half to make it more manageable. I love that it hasn't been so processed that its been already cooked through to make its fragrant. Mee Goreng is also really nice.

I'm obviously experimenting in the far east food and loving it. Sadly ahem tragically it doesn't always agree with CGBF's inner workings. But my Thai green curry can be very hit or miss. But it'd help if I measured stuff out rather than firing in anything that needed to be eaten as well as stuff I fancied. Then pe lting in a random splodge quantity of the paste in with a tin of coconut milk. I'd say pouring but its a thick paste. So in order to get it off the spoon that you almost have to swing around your head like that highland throw the hammer thing. But with a with a sudden downwards swoop instead of upwards ending with wacking the spoon on the edge of the pot for that sudden stop movement required before it will come off. Last night's was very thick and when you eat it the burn hits you "bloody hell this is HOOOOTTTTT burny burny burny Hotttttt". Then when it fades away there is taste. Then you repeat. Sometimes you let it get almost cool then you try it. but nope. That BURNNNNNNNNNN is still there.



One last thing... Its my little brother's birthday in the coming weeks (almost 3). So therefore its time to start panicing about what present to get him. The one without a neck. They don't sell necks.
I have no idea what to get him. Crap.


The actual final point... I have not wove anything. Or warped it. I live in fear of it. I cried then I yelled at CGBF. :(