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.

Frustration

Last night I was supposed to go to the Aberdeen ravelers in Aberdeen. Now since I live within the city bounds this is no great trouble for me.
But I didn't go. I got a bit scared and just stalled. And I just didn't go. I thought I'd just be ah well, I'll go next week, but once 7:30 hit and it had started I felt really frustrated. Really really frustrated with myself and uptight because I'd wasted an oportunity to be creative. This is something which has recently become apparant as making every aspect of my life feel wasted. I don't feel happy because I'm not achieveing something outside of work. Sitting on the computer, cooking the usual stuff, playing computer games or just hanging out with CGBF and watching tv. It just isn't enough.
I've had a second lightbulb moment and I am so annoyed to the point of being unable to sleep at having wasted this opportunity. I was able to sleep because I realised I was that annoyed, that I had been to a degree taking it out on CGBF (who'd only just got home) and I wouldn't be able to sleep. So went and spun a bit before bed. Which was definitly one of the better decisions I made.

I had a dose of the luddite when spinning. There are two ways to go while spinning, zen or stew. Now I know how to spin and can do it automaticially it gives me time to think, which means I can stew over things. Usually things that annoy me (does anyone stew over things that are nice? That would be remanicing I suppose). Stewing is bad and I find affects the quality od what i am making. But last night I was being a bit of a Luddite over the colours. Oooh, pretty colours wow.

I was facinated by how they shifted and flowed according to how they were spun. Emphasis on them and how they swirled as they were spun and a length when spun gave rise to a multitude of different shades and combinations. Much more zen than stewing over stuff whilst spinning. I don't think its good to spin whilst being pissy or annoyed, for the yarn's sake as well as my own. IMHO (In My Humble Opinion) you leave that annoyed energy behind and when you are creating something the more positive you are, the more positive all you feelings, better care you'll take and all those will improve the vibes about them. Don't know if I'll include this in the final draft of this.
My Blue yarn is coming along well though and I'll soon be fit to start on my white corridale (hmmmmm). I am so looking forward to it. Its a wonderful fiber, soft silky with the most glorious luster.

News on the shawl. After the great rip back I'm getting back to where I was. Another few rows and I'll be happily onto my second repeat.

Socks, caught up and passed. What I really need to do now is to figure out at what point the heel starts. Every photo has the socks from the front. There is an easy answer. But involves more counting than I have fingers or toes. Explanations are good, the lady who designed them did 71 rows. Mayhaps I should lay my socks once again at her socky master feet. Bow before the talent and feel the joy as I ralise, it worked for her. It may be catching. Or I can say she did it and act like I'm 5.
Either way, I may buy her book...

Spidertoid update. Still missing. Status unknown to me. I'd sincerely love to presume it knows its status. I hope it hasn't been swallowed by either of us.

When you speak too soon... and spider relatives

This should have been posted last night but the software deleted part of it so it took me an extra day to retype what I remembered of it :-/.

You know when you speak too soon. You say all is well (Tuesday), your project is coming along fantastic. Its good and because of that the world is good and all is happy (or will be once CGBF tracks down and rehomes that Harvestman that's loose in the bedroom). You feel great because your project or in this case projects (its both of them Grrrrrr)....looks fantastic.

By saying that I now realise I've wantonly done it again. By that I mean... what I did.

Shawl. Start with this one as its the main offender and its wanton behaviour (no way am I claiming the (rather) dubious honour of being the only wanton one here). Actually the Harris sock will be quicker. I made a mistake and had to rip some back :(. But I've made up a good protion of that which was lost so I'm still getting there.

I spotted an error in one of the leaves SMILY. So in the spirit of Arragggggh Nooooo I do not want to repeat this pile of lace work I decided my best option was to drop the stitches and try and knit them upwards from there. So went and put a skirt on (this is relevant) so that it'd act to hold everything as well as support the shawl. Raid my Knit Picks kit and found some of the wires (retrieved from the stack of half knitted gloves) and some DPNs.
Right, its an edge one, use a DPN. The long metal one (its purple). Off we go, examining, examining, right it looks ok where the 4 yo's start to separate the base off the line before would be a good place to start. Twang twang twang (feeling like Nanng Ogg with those sounds) and slowly pull them out. Right ok. Check chart. Check big chart. I am.... ummmm here. Double check, Arraggghh dropped chart. Get it back up. Find place and off we go.Ya do a twiddly thing here and there should be a yo here because of how the leaf moves. I should check this on the other side so pull it out nicely and what the hell was that something that just slid down my leg and oww that was my foot. ARSEAGE DPN and (pitch getting closer to where only dog's can hear) more of it is unravelling. Reach to extract it from my foot and even more is coming out Raaarragggh. Rapidly loosing it and will to live. Rescue it and it looks weird. Pretend it doesn't. It can be fixed. Later, there is no problems here at the minute all is perfect (foot throbs).


Right back down to the important bit. Get comfy, set up another knit picks needle out of the pile on my lap (which turns out to be too thick and requires changing) with small strand of circular needle wire.. Get whacked in the face by the other loose end. Ow.

Drape self sideways over the side of the chair trying to find the Knit picks kit in the wool box. Stop when stitch manifests. Get CGBF to seek out the Knit Picks kit and get me a button thing whatever its called that screws on at the end. Yell instructions as to its vague location "the bed". Untangle self and poke in the side and wander through to find the kit. 5 minutes later (sound funnier if it was 10, but it wasn't so there you go) find and grap handful of pointy sicks, sicks? sticks. Ow.



Get on knee, stab leg with DPN and off we go again. Stab repeatedly, so the rest of the fiddlying is done to a chorus of ow, ow OWW, oh no, that's and going to pierce the skirt will it cause the fabric to ladder and get bigger, Arragggh grab the rapidly escaping DPN.



Will this never end? Its barely begun Hmmmmm. A good sign, this is not. I'll unscrew the circular needle closest and then swap it over. its thicker so that it'll hold it better (bonus). Totally forget that its shorter. And on some bizarre signal it abandons that area too. As the other end of the circular needle does the same thing leaving both ends loose and floating. Stab self and smack self in face with the end of the circ. track down blatently feeling left out DPN. If I use it, it won't feel sad and I'll know where it is so it'll stop stabbing me. Arrraggghh (-I do that alot on here).. That bit could be a hold but it moves left so it must be a knit. So there will be a yo here then a ssk and bla bla bla.
Ok thats ok, purl and that last one looks funny. Replace DPN whilst think about it. Realise other side is again making a break for it. stab self with DPN again (now many of them are there!?) Confirm there are 2 and one too tight Knit picks one.


Bla bla bla, try next pattern row, Drop chart mid point, retrieve, realise have picked up the wrong sheet. Retrieve, feel relieved when find point and line goes well. Purl, ok can't muck that up in theory. What is wrong with the one at the end. Fiddle with it and drop newly made stitch. Crap.
Retrieve. Try next line, go back and redo last yo, should it be a k2tog? Check pattern. Nope. Check correct part of the pattern. Yes. Okay. Fixed. Repeat twice.... twist around to look at the clock, stab self and realise its almost 60 minutes since I started approx. End bit stubbornly looks distinctly dodgy. Fiddle fiddle fiddle for another 20 odd minutes. Realise something is wrong and after all that effort it still needs ripped out.

PASNTS


The night before last and last night were erring towards a stressful pair of nights. There was a Harvestman loose, yes just roaming (sitting quite happily perfectly still near a corner) and loose in the bedroom. Now although I'm not as phobic of them as I am of spiders, I'm not fond of them in the slightest. Good example CGBF was moving a plant pot and there was one near to his hand. Me shrieking crap and levitating not only to my feet but 2m away will attest that fond of them, I am not. And this one was loose, but since it was loose at the far end of the bedroom, I was marginally happier that I would have been had it been sitting on or by the headboard awaiting me to lie down so it could gaze at my sleeping form. Or come and stroke my face, curl up beside me or whatever a Harvestman desires doing at that hour of the night. Actually chances are its under the bed preparing to come up the side of it to terrorise me (thats where CGBF found the eye mask) or something like that. Its still missing...location unknown...Bugger.


So last night I had a hissy fit at CGBF. The curtain pole fell down again. Right on top of me. I was lucky I'd only just got into bed, because being brained by it when I was sleeping directly under it would have been even less pleasant. In fact it would have been swear and pain filled because its a large and heavy chunk of wood with little random wooden bits ready to come off and hit me too. As well as also having a large heavy curtain attached to it. Ready to hit me too, or come off and hit me marginally pre/post pole hitting me. There is no knowing what could happen and in what order. Or what could crawl out to yell at us (ahem meaningfulglances) for not repairing it and therefore preventing it happening. The curtains are used daily, so if something was to be in there, I'm sure we'd find out. But still a missing Harvestman is a missing Harvestman.


The night before last and last night were erring towards a stressful pair of nights. There was a Harvestman loose, yes just roaming (sitting quite happily perfectly still near a corner) and loose in the bedroom. Now although I'm not as phobic of them as I am of spiders, I'm not fond of them in the slightest. Good example CGBF was moving a plant pot and there was one near to his hand. Me shrieking crap and levitating not only to my feet but 2m away will attest that fond of them, I am not. And this one was loose, but since it was loose at the far end of the bedroom, I was marginally happier that I would have been had it been sitting on or by the headboard awaiting me to lie down so it could gaze at my sleeping form. Or come and stroke my face, curl up beside me or whatever a Harvestman desires doing at that hour of the night. Actually chances are its under the bed preparing to come up the side of it to terrorise me (thats where CGBF found the eye mask) or something like that. Its still missing...location unknown...Bugger.


So last night I had a hissy fit at CGBF. The curtain pole fell down again. Right on top of me. I was lucky I'd only just got into bed, because being brained by it when I was sleeping directly under it would have been even less pleasant. In fact it would have been swear and pain filled because its a large and heavy chunk of wood with little random wooden bits ready to come off and hit me too. As well as also having a large heavy curtain attached to it. Ready to hit me too, or come off and hit me marginally pre/post pole hitting me. There is no knowing what could happen and in what order. Or what could crawl out to yell at us (ahem meaningfulglances) for not repairing it and therefore preventing it happening. The curtains are used daily, so if something was to be in there, I'm sure we'd find out. But still a missing Harvestman is a missing Harvestman.

Passed out about 12. No sign of the Spidertoid.
Wake up and its 5. No sign of the Spidertoid. I could have been sleeping another hour. :(. Got thinking, we've (I've) lost the eye mask what can I use?
A sock, not the sock of non Dem-sock-racy as its not finished (I was mistaken needs another few inches. Sigh). But considering I have little dainty feetsys and CGFB has these great big things that cause potholes to form if he steps hard and the tar cracks means... I had a solution. Big feet....means.... big socks and shoes actually (everyone with a dirty mind which was gutter bopund there now, you know exactly who you are, tut tut). To the Clothes horse (for clean ones). Not quite long enough, same, same, i don't like that pair, this one, if it t'were but slightly smaller, could act as a winter sleeping bag for a very small child. About 3 years old. But only if it was water proofed. Sock trawl came up (sadly) negative. So I had a further rummage on the clothes horse and came up with something else which would fit neatly over my head (The only thing that wasn't a sock or a knitted top EEEEEEKKKKK ), was nice and light. 2 problems

1, it had 2 leg holes, waist hole and ahhh alternate use
2 if that fell down around my neck and could be dangerous if I had a peddling session or decided I neeeded to levitate upwards and hang from the room (hey its happened, I have no idea why but it did. Wierd huh?) or CGBF rolled over on top of it. One time a few weeks ago when it was how I woke up and he (dead to the world) had me right up against the wall, half on my side at an awkward angle, his shoulder was on my hair so I was pinned and he'd stuffed the duvet on top of me. So I was roasting, pinned and unable to move because of the duvet.
So I ended up folding it over my face (main hole near me) and having a snooze.. Actually 10 mins before the alarm went off I figured that I could manhandle CGBF's arm so that I could hide in his lee and use it to shade me.
Was going to bbe one of those (still plum bereft) days (they are for jam he tells me. See if he goes for that pineapple...)
3) I was exhasted, and desperate and I work somewhere can be dangerous to have a sleepy person ablut. Thats 3 but i'm only 1 out so thats ok in this situation. If it was money that that wouldn't be so good.

Just one final note, there is still No sign of the Spidertoid...

Finally some knitting news. More Marmalade too

I have knitted, spun, knitted some more, stared at charts, mucked up knitting, rectified the knitting, made Marmalade, gave some to a workmate and home brew to my manager (yet to see how that one pans out, him being at work tomorrow will be very telling tho) and sprained my ankle again (the other one this time about 5 minutes ago). I should be doing Reiki on it instead of typing.

I've figured out that when I'm making crafty things or cooking I'm content. I feel like I've achieved something and as a result I work harder and faster at work. I also enjoy the making of things and totally loose interest with the finished product. Which puzzles the hell out of my workmate. Does anyone else do this? Just wander off and not really care what happens to what they've made as long as someone else enjoys it? Seems not.

I've been thinking back. My dad is a fantastic gardener and as far back as I remember has had a garden full of many different types of fruit and veg. More than could be used and often we (the parents) were able to freeze them for use in the winter. Mum was renowned for knitting or crochet, making blankets, cooking, baking and conserve making. As far back as I can remember mum had a baking day, made jam, marmalade, tarts and puddings. People used to bring her stuff to make and she sold vast quantities of stuff.
Yet besides gathering some stuff for the kitchen or topping and tailing stuff they never really got any of us involved.
If we asked question sure they'd answer. Mum used to give us scrap pastry, jam and a plate (the blue china one was my favourite) to allow us to make a "tart". Which invariably came out like a tile exploding into shrapnel when cut. It could easily be used as a discus if you glues 2 together.

I and my brothers don't know how to do any of what they did. And that is a huge loss now that I find that I am doing some of these things myself.
I'm trying to learn crochet, learning lace,making jam yet she's fantastic at both and has been doing it for years. Until recently that is. Now besides the gardening and odd tart (pie for any Americans who wander by) they've stopped it all. We've come away with nothing and now I live in a different country I have no chance to learn first hand.
My bush tomatoes are over 7 feet tall and have tried to smother me, my Rosemary doesn't like life, my potatoes are the size of toffee pennies (chats) I have no idea how to prune things or thin them out, how often should I feed? I have a new respect, so now I can appreciate the loss. Bit sad about that.

Anyway The shawl. I got to the end of the starting chart and did not know how to proceed. So I went onto Ravelry... found a fan group (MaweLucky Love) of the designer (Jane Araujo or MaweLucky) and left this message.

Helphelphelp. I?m stuckk?. Arragggh.
This is my first shawl and first time reading a chart and I?ve got as far as finishing the first chart (after only doing the half the first time ooops) and I?m not sure what to do now to get from the starting chart to the repeats.

I?ve been staring at the patterns on the second chart and I?m just not making sense of it (you know those times when your brain just wants to go vegetate somewhere (or as I suspect is currently doing so and has no intention stopping) and is yelling ?F you? at everything that isn?t spinning/something you really shouldn?t be doing because you have a gift to complete?). Anyway since staring at it and willing direct instructions to manifest on the page has failed to work I?m on here. Can anyone tell me how to get from the starting chart to the repeats. How do I start? Which bit is next. I?m sure this is terribly obvious but my brain?s going huh? Blaggh.

I think I?m supposed to do line 3 somewhere after the starting 2 stitches. But nothing more is coming through. Think I?ll go cry under the desk with some toast and cheese now.

Thanks

Never did get as far as the desk with that toast.
Then after some really helpful replies (thank you all so much) I posted this...

Hi.
I think I?ve got it! Wooooohooohooo
I truly think its the fact that I haven?t used a chart. Actively avoiding them has that effect.

Thank you all so much for the tip. I went trundling around google and found that post by Gurnard but would this computer accept it? Ah ha hahahahaha. Never. Typical . Finally I managed to locate a chart by someone who I have since found out has been doing stuff against the designer's wishes and has made mistakes. Fortuneately not in the bit I was on tho. Which is much larger and clearer than the tinsy weensy fit for a tinkerbell sized fairy chart I had. I just followed 23 and just knit back and forth across the segment she highlighted until I reached the end. Did 2 rows.

Then I realised symmetry is a fantastic thing and wandering away from it is not, in fact its a terrible thing. Frogged it back and now I?m off I?ve finally got my eye in so I now recognise the pattern ?ah ha, I did this and need to do this ?instead ?yea, that's a stitch, pfft, helps hellpssss Arragggh?.
I?ve also put a central stitch marker in which helps a lot.
Awesome.

Thank you everyone. I should get a picture of it up on here tomorrow .

I feel like I am moving along really fast with this and feel like I can get it done this year. Since its laceweight and this is Scotland it'd be preferable if it was finished and sent in the warmer end of the year.

The Harris socks are coming along fast and I've got a picture of them on Marvin the Moose (brought back from an exhibition for me) there should be a pair of pictures here (pre Harris pattern attempt and it as it was on Friday).




On Thursday CGBF and I made Marmelade. 2 pink Grapefruit, 2 limes and a lemon, all juiced then the rest chopped finely. I was very suprised that there wasn't huge quantities of pith when chopped. In fact, there was no pith really. It took ages and blunted our 2 scary sharp knives (you know those old ones that seem to get sharper with age and regenerate sharpness, them. One-a true old one has recovered ). What I have discovered is that despite having 1kg of citrus fruit in there, it still needs lemon juice added . Cooking it for over 2 hours must do something to it but I'm not sure what but its possibly related to the sugar being added at the same time. What I've also learnt, is that marmalade almost totally takes out the redy and pink colour that the plum, strawberry and raspberry jam left on the wooden jam spoon! Which is great. Marmelade takes hours to make dependant on the method. The one we did requires you to do the chopping the previous night, then leave the peel and juice to sit in 2.5 L of water over night. Boil (takes ages to get that far) and then allow to bubble of 2 hours. Add sugar and lemon juice and then... stare expectantly. It actually takes on an amazing clarity here, boil again. Quick cry about wanting to go to bed because it takes ages and then to allow to sit for 10 minutes. Bottle then stagger off to bed after snarling at the seemingly disgustingly fresh CGBF. Will be making more with the other method later. I am mad.
I gave some to a workmate on Friday to try out. Along with some home brew. I also gave my manager one after wandering into his office and declaring "Beer fairy". Now this may not be a sensible thing (givng him beer, he knows my sense of humour is quite random poor man). I will blog, let you know how it went.

I think our crazy neighbour (er upstairs) is recutting the grass . She moans that "Stevie" doesn't cut it often enough (CGBF has been renamed for some obscure reason). But it actually needs to hit the 2 inches mark to be worthwhile and actually be dry. Otherwise it takes ages and just squishes flat, then with great joy sproings back up again. It is so patchy atm. CGBF was getting really annoyed at it and I had to go out and sing to him (I just manage to make random songs up). This one was to the tune of the Elizabethan BlackAdder

"Hot boyfriend/ my floosy (your choice), Hot boyfriend he is cutting the grass,
Hot boyfriend, Hot boyfriend, your tea is cooling fast"

Thats me blathered out. I shall put a picture of the shawl on soon.

Jams induced exhaustion. Random strikes again.

Originally posted 28/7/9 (for CGBF's benefit 28/7/09)

I started this on Sunday
I. Am (was). Exhausted.

So much so I stopped and lay in a heap.
I (we part time) have however increased the jam stash by 5 jars. Its Raspberry and since claming the first lick of the rather dubious (self appointed) reward of licking the ladle (CGBF got the spoon) I have no intention of EVER having any more.

Why?... Pips.
Should have filtered, but I don't have the kit. It also (here is the cunning part) makes you look like you've made more than you have .

It tasted nice though, not too sweet, had a glorious ruby colour with excellent clarity. The instructions were excellent and we managed to avoid getting the jam separating. I distinctly if distantly remember my parents making some and the first (why doesn't this thing have spell check?) few jars were nothing but pips and the last being like perfectly clear jelly from and CGBF. We started with 4 punnets of fruit that we got at the farmer's market yesterday (this bit was typed on Sunday). 3 Raspberry and 1 Loganberry.
I got 2x 500ml Le Parfait (I keep thinking of Donkey from Shrek 1 dribbling and asking for a tissue when he "hears Parfait") bottles of raspberries in brandy syrup, 1 mixed fruit (raspberry, Loganberry and strawberries I rescued from CGBF who is the all devouring when it comes to the latter). I also ended up with the low sugar Raspberry jam (bringing some into work along with pancakes because the admin girls asked me to bring some in) and some tropical fruit in syrup.

Peaches, pineapple (tinned in its own juice) and apricots in a mixture of the pineapple juice with some Malibu rum with sugar dissolved in it. I was obsessed with it being nectarines. The fact they were fuzzy and had PEACHES written in bold block capitals didn't really twig. I was looking at the fruit and thought they were nectarines.
It all started well, clean and sterilise the jars. I do the latter in my slow cooker. Pour the water into it and leave it on high. Place and leave them in there until needed. The long low oval shape helps make it easier to get them out with a wooden spoon. Heated the pineapple juice with the sugar to make the syrup and added Malibu. Trust me when I say it stinks when you get it on the hob. Sugar and burnt coconut is nasty and leaves little lumps on the ring as well as brown stringy boogy (ewwwww ) like things hanging off the bottom of the pan . I rapidly cleaned that up before CGBF got back from getting pineapple. It'd upset him too much. Peaches, or maybe more accurately these peaches didn't want to give up their skin. They won. After 20 odd minutes of dropping them into hot water then flinging (oww hot hot hot Eeek) them into cold they (unlike the apricots) weren't giving them up. So I sliced some up and left others whole and mixed fruit up and packed it into 1x 1Litre and 1x 500ml Le Parfait jars (which went awol, I spent ages hunting around flinging obscenities the flat about the thing buggering of on a roam when it had no business doing so. Only for CGBF to find it within minutes of coming with the pineapple). Poured the syrup in and sealed. Woohooo. Few minutes preparing and sealing the excess syrup in the final Le Parfait jar. Then basked and nursed my slightly scorched fingers (those seals and the glass itself really do hold the heat).

Proceed the fight. The Maslin pan will not hold an upright 1L jar. Could it go sideways and could I fit the other 2 sealed jars in? No. Could I get the syrup to sit upright? Hahahahaha. Every chance it got it went pinging upwards from the bottom of the pan and started bobbin upside down at the surface. Forcibly ripping its sick little self out of my hands to do so like the sadistic little jar that it is. I cried and after fighting with it for 10 minutes had to repeat the heating process for it on its lonesome later. Thankfully the other 2 with the fruit filled and formed a seal. Pushing the clasp down helps bubbles vent out and since the flat didn't start reeking of coconut and more than it was already. I considered it to have not leaked. Exhaustion based collapse beckoned so I staggered into the living room and barely budged. I do this willingly and have 2 matches of stuff this week. Am I mad?

Well I am working on the sock so yes, I suppose so. I got asked by a very hyper person on the bus, I couldn't hear what she was saying well though. The bus was noisy and she was power speaking. Or maybe skim speaking. She was a veritable road runner (mep mep/sock sock) of words. Wonder if she'll be on the bus some time in the future?

Has anyone seen Pink's video "So What"? I've just seen it and it is hilarious. Jigging around on a lawnmover singing away while driving down a busy road. Considering how stupid H&E is I'm suprised it didn't have a "Don't do this at home" disclaimer. Its probably has (happened I mean). With a golf buggy.

My initial thoughts somewhere you are going to get someone who'd been dumped, was drunk who is singing would then get in the mood and go looking for a fight on a Friday or saturday night (maybe with their exes and co., who's to say). Stupid I know but there you are. People hurt or kill each other because of the colour of a t-shirt or what football team they support and in so proving there is no end of stupidness people indulge in. Anyway. Moving on and back to whence I came, I didn't or really listen to it. Not deliberate, we were busy and noisy at work and couldn't have the radio on. But when you consider it, I'd put money on somewhere people believing that there are dancing milkmen chocolate milkmen/spaceships and spacemen/cavemen hitting each other with chocolate rocks in their cereal. I predict there'll be tears when these kids (I feverently hope its kids)realise its not true, its in fact fictional. It'll be like finding out that Santa's lost weight after going on a diet because chimney's are thinner and smaller than the big Medieval Germanic farmer's ones that they used to hang whole haunches of meat up in to smoke. I cannot find a picture but lets just say that they are big enough for to fit a double bed in that thing. It was HHhugggge (also had a corridor that went around the entire house, acting like a giant cavity wall because they had no glass for windows and having windows directly outside from the living quarters would have been unwise when its -32 (-25.6 according to the online conversion website) Celsius the snow could be 12 feet high. The inside wall had little windows, the outer had larger to allow enough light to illuminate the inside. Smart huh? I thought so)

Actually I wanted to cover the instruction for the Maslin pan.
First it is the usual initial bla bla bla don't use it on children. Metal gets hot don't touch/lick/wear it when you've just put it on the heat.
Don't walk with it in a traffic jam or a teenager's bedroom (make sure path is clear its hot and heavey etc etc)
don't let boil dry (hmmm, fairly normal state of affairs that, average behaviour that bit. But little was I to know that from here it got interesting) as this can deform be base (hokay no quazimodo pans desired), and in severe cases turn the almunimim sandwich (looks at the base for a sandwich, hmmm, nope, its totally incased, on we go then) into molten metal (Eeeep bloody hell). If this happens switch heat off and allow to cool before removing ( If its molten and somehow you failed to notice(what were you doing? watching the entireity of the Lord of The Rings with all the extended versions?) I can only imagine if the sandwich (I did peek at it when I read the molten sandwich bit) was molten, you'd be moving the cooker out, complete with twisted metal to make space for the new one.
Well its a great piece of kit (Kitchen craft). Good weight, nicely made and easy to handle. Almost the most important factor.... EASY to clean. Really glad I got it.

Right, thats me blathered out. Its late and I need to spin and have my tea.

Jam, lots of jam and bubbling things. Strange poetry too I suppose

Originally posted 25/7/9
Jam, well we commenced with the jam making last night. Not quite hot off the press instant blogging is it? But the time I'd blathered about the spinning and the knitting I was tired.
So today I'm typing about it.

It all started with CGBF wanting blueberry jam from the blueberry plants. He liked the idea whereas I thought that eating or bottling them would be nice. Upon thinking of it the Bay and Blue recipe in the River cottage recipe book (from which we made our jam, which is rather good) sounds really rather nice. As does the plums in brandy with cinnamon, honey and something I cannot remember. Hmmm that's rather irritating. Anyway I won't be eating either as I can't stand alcohol but it should smell lovely and make nice gifts for my. And his actually now I come to think about it. Anyway (The Prologue). Because (I blame) the postage strikes (Wiggly Wigglers has always been good previously) the jam kit arrived late. So I looked at the fruit and decided that they really shouldn't be sitting around much longer. I just didn't like the idea of them lurking not only in the fridge, but the bowl for my scales measuring and getting any riper because beyond ripeness..... lies squish(y fruit). And not only is it not a pleasant thing. But I did not embark down a route of mollusc genocide and arguments with CGBF only for this stuff to go manky. All that... for nothing. Well that's not true, some of them will survive the year with that helped. Destroying a sluggy dynasty, so a plant based one may arise and thrive. And give me tasty things to eat in (hopefully increased abundance as they get bigger). Nom nom nom.

Anyway, CGBF was off to work, i was just me so I read the bottled fruit thing, then straight away made up my own recipe. I wanted a medium syrup so put 100g sugar into 350ml of water and 60ml of Napoleon brandy. Which comes in a very serious and sombre looking bottle. I usually have a miniature bottle of Convoissier(which I have no idea how to spell that correctly) to cook with and to get this big black bottle was a bit of a shock. Oooh, slightly scary bottle, being intimidated by a bottle. But I don't drink, was it expensive type? Would it be ok to cook with? Or a waste? Eeeek.

CGBF got me some Le Parfait jars which I love the idea of. I went on holidays to France for years and seeing them again was one (still is) of those things that bring back so many fantastic memories . Mainly of Baguettes and jam, medieval towns, French markets and swimming pools, the latter few of which obviously has nothing to do with Le Parfait jars but are still part of it. Anyway (The Prologue abounds) I had to go find my jar because I seem to wander around the flat with them and leave them in some very odd places. There is one here in the living room here now sitting beside me. CGBF was devouring a massive pile of toffees that were on the table. Somehow they were because they got knocked them onto the floor, which doesn't explain why I found them in my knitting and wool (I have some in the livingroom in case I feel the need to pet the pretty roving SMILY no bobbins ) sob as well a few as down the side of my chair and I'd tried to stop him eating them all. I resorted wandering around trying to hunt them down whilst he snagged one at random before he got at them. I ended up waving them all individually at him "This is mine and I'm putting this in the Le Parfait and your not to touch it". What did he do? Cleared the jar out and munched them all anyway after he asked me way I tired. Small children apparently get restless and annoying when they are tired and he thinks I'm the same.

Anyway, making bottled fruit, I found another Jar (fished out of the packet) and while I washed it I pondered where the other two missing jars were (one is still AWOL). Rinsed it lots as soapy brandy fruit is more than likely to be nasty and sterilised the jar with boiling water and then remembered the rubber sealing ring.

So I had to go, wash and sterilise another jar and sterilise the ring in it. Then I had the experience of a lifetime trying to cajole and then manhandle the ring around the jar. A hot ring (freshly boiled, mayhaps I should have let it steep for longer) onto an equally hot jar.

Heat heat heat, stirring to let the sugar dissolve, in the water and Brandy whilst I sorted our home grown fruit (white and black currants, blueberries and a single gooseberry) and removed the squishy ones. It wasn't particularly easy to tell which ones they were, although the two rather disgustingly enthusiastic blackcurrants which exploded all over my fingers were a great clue. Hard to miss that my fingers were smeared, absolutely slathered in blackcurrant innards. You'd have thought I was a 4 year old who was let loose in their grandparents garden (I've seen it/been it with great and more than slightly sticky joy. Much to my parent's consternation). I sliced some plums in half to line the bottom in a pretty flower shape but since you can't compact it or totally fill the jar they instantly swirled out of formation when I lifted it to look the following day. They danced and swirled at me, I could almost hear the tinny laughter coming from the jar.

I'd decided to put the halved and dekerneled plums on the bottom then pour mine on the top. Then with a generous jiggle allow my smaller berries to move into the gaps. So with the smaller ones sorted I launched into the plums. I found out after a few who'd set out to lull me into a false sense of delusion, delude me by coming apart easily and releasing the kernels happily. But then they hit and the kernals were literally welded to the fibres of the flesh. Twist juice extreme puzzlement huh ? and instead of nicely lifting off the innards fell out into a fairly horrible squidgy right onto my foot . Leaving me with something like a plum version of a potato skin behind. Blaaggghhh. Would those kernels come out without taking almost everything else besides a the outermost layer? Ha hahaahha ha. It was like wrestling something... horrible. If you were to go rooting around at the bottom of a pool of serious primordial ooze (it has to be serious, there's just no point in bothering with a pool of primordial ooze that isn't going to make the effort now is there?) you'd find something similarly nasty, it'd even squirm. Let me assure you that both would probably be on par for nasty Ewwwwww . Eventually wrestled some apart so they looked whole, more wrestling to get the disintegrating ones into a bowl from where they could be slurped enthusiastically up by myself (I can assure you that they were rather tasty). Plums are fairly enthusiastic about disintegration, almost as much as I am about eating them afterwards. Anyway, into the jar. My berries on top with the lone gooseberry sitting happily in the center (I presume happily, I didn't exactly ask how it was feeling. If I was about to have boiling hot syrup poured over my head I wouldn't be that happy so maybe that was a daft presumption). That done, bask, in that feeling of a (ahem minor) achievement (awesome,I've got it in the jar ) and back to the liquid. Realise that I'm going to have to do some serious boiling to reduce that liquid get it so that it'll all go in. Which will boil off the alcohol which I want for the additional preserving power (because I may just need all the help I can get ). Pouring some in would assist that I haz good ideas I do.

So what next?

Sterilize another bottle Eeeekkks the syrup is boiling dance it around the hob, how come its hard to remember which of the rings is the cool one? Testing them works too but its not so good for the syrup... But it is a nice caramel colour.

Good idea for the night-use what you need
Bad idea for the night-not thinking and not putting more sugar in. Using less so it should have been stronger. ach well
Delusion factor for the night-its ok until you try it
Delusion factor for the night 2-it looks ok and the syrup is a pretty burgundy colour.
Delusion factor for the night 3- ummm, I'm watching Frost on tv so I've forgotten. Is it just me or do guys not age? Use a certain body spray beginning with L and you can get a pretty girl instantly . Use man anti grey hair dye and you get a pretty woman all googly eyed at you. Gaagggh . Oooh I've remembered things will stay in place instead of floating or swirling around the bottle.

Right, get a kitchen towel into the big pot, seal the jar and ensure that its on the towel. Then some warm water, and it relax, let it heat for 25 minutes to 88 Celcius.

15 (ish, it all got... a bit paniced aftter that) phoned CGBF, hi loves its going well. It started to spew streams of bubbles like some strange jar shaped dragon. Streams of them out of random points around the lid. So I could compare it to Yellowstone. Abandon CGBF in a flurry of obsenities. Could I get hold of my parents? (who are they to have social lives)? Ah ha hahahahaha, phoned Aunty Anne, she's not it, parents? still absent, Granny, she'll help me (and its likely she'll be there), its beeeen agesss since she's did it. Oh the parents are on holiday. C*!p how could I forget (Luemburg at that precise time). Desperation is still pervading and there is still lots of bubbles . In bursts, usually when you least expect it. Other Aunty, who told me she hoped I wasn't making a mess of the cooker. Reassured all is well, yet again I've corrupted my cousin (whats wrong with Gooseberries I don't know, she likes them and they make nice plants. I hope she planted two, cross pollination being better. Whattt? What were you expecting? Something horrible? Charming.)

Decided that leaving the ring right by the clip wasn't helping. Blaaag. Wrestle it open and repeat. Minus phone calls and panicked shrieked swearwords. Fish it out abandoning them to cool to go blaaaagggghhh in the living room whislst staring into space. Oooh, not for anyone thinking of doing this the potato mashers with the horizontal base and handle on one side (so you don't have to try and wedge what can be a very large jar in the centre) are really good for getting them out. Just brace the other side with something). Tongs would help too but mine had to go back to Lakeland due to some flaw. Is it just me or have several big stores had that happen. M&S had a notice up too with similar items.

CGBF (much to my delight) the next day decided that it looked tasty and tried to get into it and couldn't break the seal. Meaning (obviously) it sealed .

From my rusty physics things expand when heated liquid and fruit expanded the air was driven out. Being allowed by hot band (moisture levels aiding to some extent) when the air and solids cooled and shrunk it caused a decreased pressure differential (slight vacuum). Basically the inwards pressure against the seal prevents the seal breaking. Preventing pathogens (bacteria etc) from getting in and spoiling it.

The Wednesday brought a jam making kit, Thursday brought jam. And I made it with CGBF (meaning we made it but it has to be from one of our perspectives and since I'm writing, and its my blog, its mine).

So singing, Learning to fly (Foo Fighters) calculating up to a different weight, plum juice (see earlier) and mad stirring. Mixed in with a good protion of mucking about and forgetting the recipe. Did you know that you have to fling jam about?

If its not onto plates (cold, putting them into a freezer to get them rapidly cool doesn't help. It just causes you to scream because you think your being burnt when you forget about it being cold in the first place) your trying to drip it into a bowl of water to see if it disperses or makes it to the bottom.

There was also a certain amount of liging about in mm ah not un akin to the way Iggy pop was acting in that insurance add.

But we came out of it alive and with 6 jars of plum jam. Which tasted really good and now has replaced CGBF's favourite which was strawberry. Which we made today. Along with some Loganberry in syrup (with brandy). We also have plans, involving some pineapple, mango, apricots and nectarines. Busy aren't we?

In honour of my plants which have given me jammable fruit and the new Harry Potter film I give you this. Which ended up quite prayer like, or a strange poem. Ooops.

I'd better go here, its late and I'm rather tired.
Great And Powerful Abjurcation Thing

Lo Cat I abdjure thee, tho I cannot spell well.
I will and command that thee n'crappy pas, in my plants.
For lo, they do be but seeds,
and cannot survive the ravages of thy ill doings.
For they, so delicate and soon to be pleasing in my sight,
are not even born as seedlings of the earth,
that came form the gardening center near Dyce,
Or maybe it was Dobbies in town.
For I do not remember, cos it was CGBF who bought it, with his dad
But I did buy the seeds, from a place online. That sold purple carrots
And yea I wast pleased
For I likth the purple, and the carrots and potatoes, when they come with cheese

For Lo, you crappy in the potato several weeks or some time ago and it dist die,
I remember not exactly when, only that we discovered its squidgy and strangely not mouldy remains in the pot. Wherest it was placed.

And thee crappest near the gooseberry, but it didst live.
For thee didst fear the CGBF, and the Gryphon (which wast me). Who didst stand and stare at thee.
At the time.
So thee feared to commit they ill doings nearby in the soft soil.
But not on the most blessed and thorny Gooseberry.
I should know, for I didst bless it. Because it was much merciful and did not stab my most delicate hand with a jeg.
For tho ist merciful and were infact planted by CGBF, whom tho dist stab with a jeg.
And he was not pleased. But he was not wroth at the pain. For he was laughing at me falling over, into the border.
Lo that hole wast and still is and chances are ever well be well hidden by grass.
Cos no one hast bothered to fill it up.
For we ist lazy and has much better things to do with our compost.
Which does not include your turd, and manyfold never thy pee.
For thou does smell. And lickth thy bum.

And the roots did survive, and the plant does thrive under our beneolevant gaze.
When we bother to go and look it it.
But yea the potatoe did die
And we were pissed.
For Lo that potatoe looked mighty tasty, and we thought it might do well.
So we planted it in the hopes that we mayest feast on its offspring.
With cheese and bacon.
And other nommy things.
For yea, that is a word.

So with great might and wisdom
thee flats brightest being, for I wast standth in the sun,
and everyone elses windows was closed.
So I wast the only one here standing in the sun. Truely
For it ist a truely bright and sunny day.
Thy now not mucky gardener realised this powerful abdjrcation,
which has been mighty and powerful through all the times it has existed,
since I made it up 10 minutes ago, whilst I did do the dishes.

So I abjure thee cat and all thy kind, for tho ist many and do not believe in abstanince, n'crappy pas, in my plants.
Lest I waffle at thee some more. And droneth on, in an Anglican style
Theeee Endddd

Solutions to knitting preventative‏

The day before yesterday I took the extreme approach to my sore elbow hindering my ability to knit. Originally posted 23/7/9

I exercised.
I did a warm up bit on a very good DVD three times and then I went to bed (it was 11:20). I will admit that doing the exercise earlier would have meant that I could have knitted too, but I was blogging til late. but my elbow feels less of the unnecessary stabby pain and my arm and shoulder feels less stiff. I can only say not only will I be doing more, but also another very important thing. Namely WOOOOOOHOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooo.

Anyway yesterday I got chased into the spare room wherein my spinning wheel dwells by the alpaca fibre I have (loose, its just loose and floating around in the flat I tells you) to spin (a change from trying to drag me behind the sofa or into some dark and otherwise undisturbed corner to try savage me). Ahem, so in I went and...

Devastated
Besides one project my poor lovely wheel sits neglected and my eyes stream with mournful tears because I've run out of bobbins ARRAGGGHHHHH (that smily there is me screaming). I have one left which needs lacquered and is for the Corridale. I have no more and I am undone. Separated for the lack of a bobbin. They are only £6.20 (+p&p). But i'm in CGBF imposed administration, so I must remain bereft.

Ohh my lovely roving (pre yarn), how I love thee,
your soft fuzziness that caresses my skin, so soft and gentle
Oh how I could pour your luxury Merenioy goodness on the floor and curl up within your satiny folds. Oh how many black bin bag full I own, enough to make a bed.
Oh how I love thee, except the carding bit. (alpaca fibre) Which is fecking horrible. It shreds my hands and is fecking painful. Its like being brushed with a new running shoe cleats. They so weren't mine (in case your wondering).
I do have a drum carder, but its course and meant to be for sheeps wool instead of alpaca and other finer wool. I haven't tried it yet but the murnerous alpaca and I may be trapped together in a horrible cramped place with the hand carders. ARRAGGGHHHHHH.

I lament for my spinning wheel.

My one project for which I have bobbins for I have some blissfully delightful Merino. Shades of blues to aqua green and white and it almost spins itself. Delightful airy stuff that literally spins itself. Its commercial stuff and unlike some other commercial stuff I've got in the past it doesn't feel over treated. It has a lovely lustre to it instead of a dullness.

Do you want to know something, it gets better, seriously BETTER.
I've spun it with the intention of pling it with some nice white Corridale (spell-check wants Corrigible, ah ha haha, explains a lot)turquoise blue Merino. The white and blue highlighting each other to allow the natural colour variations in the blue strand to show up. Glorious. Sounds perfect doesn't it?

Corridale (hmmm squishy get a grip) , and Merino are my addiction. Hmmmm yumm. This stuff is gorgeous to spin (Corridale is a sheep breed, its wool what could you otherwise expect but to be some form of animal).
Corridale is different to Merino (oh the glory of the squishy Merino) and BFL, not better, easier than the BFL as its a bit shorter when it comes to staple. I think i'll be buying lot more. More colours, more fun and quite simply more squishy loveliness that may just be causing me to daydream about it and dribble. Ahem.

It gets painful though, sadly I am horrendously allergic to the Merino. I have consulted 3 different Drs over the allergy and none of them have heard of anyone being allergic to this or it would not be getting sold. It is extremely rare and I have got a hosiptal referal (finally) to see a specialist so I'll at least have paperwork for it. Seriously the last (first and only) time I spun it I was awoken in the middle of the night by my hands throbbing. The entire palm of one hand and half the other. The thumbwards area of the the learder hand that controls the twist and the entire surface of the palm side of my leader hand. I can't use it so I've decided to sell it to fund driving lessons and getting a car.

This allergy is a real pest. Thorntons chocolate brownies, Bounty bars and use Carex soap (stuff that sets me off), a great many deouderants and toothpaste are all out. Does that stop me spinning it? No, I wear lab gloves.

I have 1kg of the stuff, swoon.
If I hadn't things to do (such as work), that would have been my week right through to saturday filled (spin, lie on the rest, put on the niddy noddy, spin, play with merino, sleep. You should see where I'm going), as it was I had to regularly abandon my now much depleted bundle for work and other sadly necessary tasks. Actually I've discovered that showering pre spinning is better because then you've got everything out of the way and then can stop when you absolutely need to (as if I'd do anything else), instead of when exhaustion has you taking micro naps and your nearly drooling, your finger's are jammed in the flyer and you still don't notice because you will, must continue. You can just fall off your chair or crawl in a rather undignified manner into bed, Instead of sliding into a heap at the bottom of the shower or staggering around it until you mercifully give up and either curl up, sprawl or pass out totally. Maybe the water running out will wake you.

So sooner or later it will end up in Etsy or Folksy. I have 2x 100g of each colour (somewhere in the morass of fiber) and I'll end up with 2x 200g so I can post 100g on both sites and say if anyone wants anymore I can leave it long and uncut. I'll post pictures of it when I have some.

But here is some stuff I spun earlier If I can get it to work. Ah ha, it has :). Fantastic.
The unplied bobbins with a red, orange and chocolate colour roving spun up. There is also one of it being dried over the radiator and me holding it and a pen to show scale (whilst wearing those lab gloves). The picture of the bobbins spun but before plying show just the sheen that comes off the Corridale. I love that stuff.





Its late and I have to wait until morning to get the results of last nights jam based adventures blogworth (and yes, I did phone relatives to shriek, its work, its jam... ITS JAMMMMMMmm!)

Have a good Friday everyone.

Not yet a jammy knitter

It is time to blog again. Although this is horribly late because this blog steadfastly refuses to become visible :(. Originally posted 21/7/9.

This past week I've been feeling vaguely grumpy and dissatisfied. I spent the long weekend knitting on the Scarf of Cool Temperatures and got it finished. Resulting in a sore back from sitting on that sofa. Meaning not only do I have a sore back but I am now missing a bus-time or whenever-I-feel-like-not-knitting-the-socks project. Hence the double satisfaction. Now I could have started another scarf the same. In the crushed berry pruple mixture for Linda but will I be bored and can I find the other ball of yarn? Both are uncertain because I've alreaded looked for the buggery thing and it is absent. Maybe the cat got it (psst we don't have a cat sadly ). Considered AWOL.

CGBF protests me knitting for someone else, I did buy yarn for a scarf for him (Debbie Bliss Donegal Tweed, Aran weight in 22-Green. Behold a picture of it http://www.yarndex.com/yarn.cfm?yarn_id=3561 second from the bottom, right hand strip (my picture, their picture, all similar enough to merit me avoiding trying to get the bluetooth dongle working).

I've already picked out a cabled scarf for him form "Classic Knits for Men: 27 Plus Original Handknit Designs with Rowan Yarns" http://www.amazon.co.uk/Classic-Knits-Men-Original-Handknit/dp/1906007179/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1248211561&sr=8-3(note there is no legal requirement to actually use Rowan yarns when knitting the patterns ). Word of warning about this book, its the same as Knitting for Him: 27 Classic Projects to Keep Him Warm. The buggers on Amazon just don't tell you this.
I am currently refuting his argument about how it'd be nice to make him a large project or finish a scarf for him, or even its time he had a large finished project. But I finished a sleeping mask for him 2 weekends ago, he should not neglect it or.....forget about it and its place in the turn system. He shall wait...

I did try and retrieve the ahem phallus to have another go of it but seems like the imaginary cat got in the basket and tied it to everything else. And its almost felted a wool hairball for itself with a wool fuzzy to another ball (maybe its trying to breed and that's the self generated wool cloud to hide what its up to?). How? How does it happen? You leave then nicely tied up and somehow, mysteriously they all unwind and jam themselves into a ball then mutually scramble themselves (I'm thinking eggs rather than anything else) into a ball of mad noodles and bondage fuzzies. Well what else can it be, my yarn loves each of the other balls of wool, otherwise they wouldn't tie themselves together as fast or with such all encompassing and all entangling enthusiasm. I am utterly positve that many of those balls of yarn were not used so how come they are so unravelled?? Some of them still have the ball bands on! Not the worst of offenders of tangles but they are still in there as if its an equal opportunity fest in there. Maybe these balls of yarn are into some strange bondage kinkiness that i would seriously not know about (or want to). In which case I can only conclude that the ball bands (hmmm, that sounds worse calling them that) aren't the ideal tying medium and its squid love. That makes the thought of my having reached in there err not so slightly towards the harrowing end of the memory scale. Silliness

Anyway, I, ahhh misread shall we say the wool within the fuzzy and inadvertently broke the yarn instead of the bondage fuzzy that I thought was pinning it in place. You can be reassured that the urge to shriek something 4 lettered beginning with Fe and potentially being substituted by the word arse before settling with crap. Which was hurled with a not insignificant degree of passion before the entire thing was flung back and I hared off in search of a bus. To just manage to get the second one after some unknown/unintentional/unwitting (which word sounds best?) assistance from an irritable person who was bugging the driver just long enough for me to make it. With much panting and slight hobbling.

Anyway I also have a scarf which as far as can be determined is over eight and a half feet tall. Or taller than me contemplating being on tippy toes with my arms stretched as far as possible upwards. Its quite impressive and as of Friday I have started a new one with pale purple, pink and peach colours so I now have something to work on.

Jam,
Did you know you can sing Jam to the theme tune of two and a half men and it'll work?
I did, try it and use Marmalade for the long Meeeennnn. Well now you do and I'm sure that your quality of life is much improved by it . You don't even have to do it in the shower like I did but it does affect the acoustics. And probably weird out the neighbours through the wall. But they've had to listen to worse. "i want to get clean" from "I want to be free" by Queen. Serenading (its almost always accidental unless I'm trying to cheer myself up) my version of Queen in the shower sounds alright to me, CGBF is definitely amused considering the number of times I've come out to an amused comment amidst laugher.
Here's my song (why am I sharing this?) Queen, I want to be free:-
'I want to get clean, I want to get clean in my shower oh yessss, I want to get clean, Hot water, soap oh I want to get clean. I want to get clean, I want to get clean, its so lovely and lemoneyyyyyy, I want to get clean' LLa la, la da da bla bla bla blaaaa, oh no, oh no don't skid on the soapppppp'

Anyway, Jam (the Prologue). I have inherited 3.5 pounds approx of strawberries in the freezer from CGBF's parents. They went to a pick your own place and I got some to make jam out of. Now my mum is fantastic at it, she's sold it in the past. But my experience is limited to wandering through the kitchen at the time and eating it when its finished.
So how did I get to being expected to make jam? Blueberries. I have a few plants and it looks like we will be able to get some (yay ). He wants jam and I want to preserve in it liqueur. I'm teetotal (what is the origins of that word? I really should google it) and always have been so preserving them in liqueur means I won't get any. Considering I am really partial to them as evidenced by the fact that I own 6 plants (I think hmmm, hang on, yep its 6, barely. Wretched slugs) this doesn't really makes sense til you consider I'm not sure if we'll get enough off them for jam . Anyway CGBF got told mum was really good at it (she used to sell it after she gave a friend of hers who owned the local butchers some and he asked could she make enough to sell. Then somehow it got round to me trying to make it. Ummm yea, great idea. So I have ordered some books the best of which has vanished somewhere . Arraggh

I got the jam making kit form these people http://www.wigglywigglers.co.uk/ . They are a rural store and they sell lots of garden stuff from high quality garden tools to seeds, plants including heritage species (potatoes mainly, including blue and burgundy ones, how cool is that?! How come we've manages to loose 98% of all the varieties of vegetables within the past few decades. Don't answer that I know the answer), ecological friendly things and pro wildlife stuff.

I'm currently typing this at work on my break between swiping the hair out of my eyes every few minutes as the fan rotates around to merrily fill my face with it. Anyway. They have lots of stuff, I've got from them before and I can definitely recommend them. I've got gifts for other people from them and the recipients have likewise been delighted (except my dad and it takes a lot to get him excited, sorry dad. He was impressed, thought they'd be useful but excited, no). Anyway, their customer services are good and their selection is fantastic. It hasn't arrived yet but when it does I'll post what I think of it. Usually they are really prompt for delivery but there is postal strikes down south in 2 places so thats held things up. I like the way the recommend books and items to go with it too.
I hope it arrives soon, I got a bit pre-emptive and got 2kg of plums with the thoughts of plum jam (I'm not a great lover of jam. Why am I so excited when I have no intentions of trying it myself- I have a test subject, its CGBF). I've managed to find the books and since we've got a few handfuls of ripe fruit I plan on preserving them in the little sealable swing top lids in either Convassier brandy or syrup and testing it on CGBF which tastes nice. We have a gooseberry (lone drinker as its going into the brandy), white currents, black currents and blueberries.

I've since typing this done something but I'll cover it (and the slightly frantic phone calls) in the next blog.

For those of you who are wondering how to tell how White currents are ripe there are two methods. Taste and colour/clarity. Taste is for the individual, try it and consider do you still have a smile? Can you manage one? Are your eyes squinting and glazed? Is so then the answer is no, its not ripe. I hope you remembered how it looked so you don't repeat it. Colour and clarity, here you look for a high clarity clear berry with a nice shine, much like red currents but a different colour. You can actually see . The fruit will be sweet and may have peck marks from birds. I actually told CGBF what to look for and he really gingerly tried it and looked rather pleased and surprised when it was nice. He remembers my face when I tried a cranberry. Their juice may be lovely (possibly, because they are loaded in sugar), but the fruit is horrible. Things must have been desperate when they were put on the edible list and wierd that they haven't been taken off of it. I pity the American sailors who had to eat them to ward off scurvy. another anecdote, British sailors ate limes which is why they were called limeys. Actually that's a point, he can check them too . Sugar and or brandy can only improve them. Can hardly harm.

So at the minute what I plan to do is make some up and use them as gifts for my family. The parents love the preserved fruit and since stashing it in brandy with some spices seems easy enough. So I think if I see some fruit reduced I'll try it out and see what works. The main conundrum seems to be buying the bottles. I got The River Cottage Handbook about preserves and it suggests some private companies that sell them. I love to support the smaller company, but when high street company is selling them for over a £5 less and I can get them in Aberdeen (instant satisfaction) then its hard to justify doing that. Arragggh, horrible horrible choice. I got the jam kit from a private company which makes me feel a bit better .

I wonder can you do a cranberry version of sloe gin? Both have the commonality of being really excruciatingly bitter and subsequently requiring a monsterous quantity of sugar to make them even remotely palatable. Why am I wondering about this? Its not as if I know anyone who drinks it. Almost as bad a quinces (judging from my youngest brother's face, took him oooh, about 3 days to be able to smile again). I plan on buying some of them soon, some red currants, crab apples and if I thought it'd survive, a Medlar. Which is a relativly unknown species from what I can tell with some rude connotations (the french call them dog-bottoms and the English called them "Open Arses"). My grandparents or someone known to them so I've seen them before, even if I've never tried them. Or maybe they were growing somewhere. Hmmm, anyway I digress. Medlars apparently taste really nice, but they need to used after the've been allowed to Blett (soften). Commonly by frost which causes the inside to become like apple sauce apparently (got to love Wikipedia ). They are eaten raw or used for jam and to make wine with! I'm more interested inthe jam. Did I mention I don't eat jam? I like making things tho. No wonder my uncle called me terribly domesticated to CGBF .

I do kind of need to get them soon so they have a chance to acclimatise to Aberdonia's temperatures. Which is a problem considering most places want to post in November. Hmmm, that maybe a problem.

Anyway I need to go get some spinning done, I have knitted too much and my elbow hurts . I also have 2 adults volume worth of wool decorating several spaces in the house and almost the entire spare room. Ahem .
I have decided to spin and sell some stuff to pay for my driving lessons. The busses are striking here and that compounded with the fact its time for me to have another go (de car, I got scareded me) with it is good motivation. I have already picked my car, a Volkswagon Golf. I have yet to decide how many doors to get or what colour. I'd like purple, but CGBF is refusing to get into it when I get it. i haven't seen any and since I'm buying a "pre-loved" (or loved in which is a really nasty thought)

Anyway I have some blissfully delightful Merino which I shall rave about when next I blog along with my bottled fruit fun (ah hahahahaha ).

Brave the wrath of the sock and a slight grumble thing

Ooops, I thought I posted this Monday past but instead I pot it in as a draft.

Would it be invoking sock misfortune if I posted pre-emptive its going ok? Hmmmm

The first and second time, it got the long strand thing between stitches when I went to do the first row after casting one. So I cast on with a different method. It worked! Its cuff down and although I haven't finished the cuff I'm about half way there. The circumference is not too massive, it stretches properly, I'm not sure if it'll go over CGBF's foot but I haven't got him or his foot with me to try it. I think...Its going ok. I wonder if it'll fit?

Ohhh I'm stuck in the house and my only method of communication with the outside world... is this blog I tell you. Well besides hanging out the window going yoohoo at random punters, or the phone.

There was... a SPIDER beside the door, and a great big hairy moth outside it. Well I'm not afraid of moths but there could be a great big hairy spider to match the moth. Now CGBF relocated the (extremely active if I must say) spider, but he's gone to work. I'm on my own with my sweet chilli sauce (no I don't drink it but I've just noticed it sitting beside the computer for some obscure reason. I am giving it this look--> right now). Anyway it could be worse (I'm back to the spider) a few weeks ago there was an... incident.

There was a hunting spider in the bathroom, under the sink, which is right beside the toilet. His name... was Hector (working through CGBF's workmates). I now know how long I can hold it in for. There was a slight standoff one morning as it was between me, and the toilet. Yes indeed, first thing when I was sleepy it had to move and wait for me then stare... Me staggering around towards it initially before stopping in bleary eyed huh? didn't phase it, but after a few minutes of me staring and going oh no, I need the loo, arrgghh, this isn't good, what do I do and Eeeep. It moved. So I got a toothbrush holder (yes CGBF was indeed charmed) over it and could finally get to the toilet, and finally relax. At least now I can go to the toilet, I just cannot leave in case Ann (today's Spider) is still on the mat.

But I have had some thoughts in regards to something non wool related that I wish to share. Bras

Sport Bras in particular.
A walk recently brought this to my attention recently.
Ladies (and gents if your the proud owner of a pair of moobs-I know someone who calls the man-Norks). Even if you are an A cup you cannot undertake any form of exercise, especially jogging without a Sports bra. You are just blatantly wearing out your boobs and applying unnecessary wear and tear on them. Have you not noticed the jiggle and feel your balance thrown off with every step? That's you stretching and tearing them. You are busting your boobs. Step bounce stretch, step bounce jiggle stretch. Or, if like me and many other ladies you qualify for the miss big bazongas category its step bounce stretch unconscious. Which is not a sexy look. Be assured I am applying a serious expression to this (can't find a suitable smiley). It is also bad for you teeth, being hit by your own flying cleavage is not only likely to be sore, but an embarrassing thing too I imagine. Honestly, only imagine. Your shoulders, back and posture all are affected by their movement and they can move by an alarming degree
A rapidly changing centre of gravity really does throw your posture. It is also fantastic for making you feel sick and wobbly (or me at least, I so hope I'm not alone with that) and need to hug the floor, love that floor and all the sweet security it brings.

I got these details off the Shock Absorber website so consider it an indirect quote.
Unsupported breasts bounce by up to 14 cm during exercise.
This can lead to permanent damage as there are no muscles in the breast. They are made up fat, breast tissue and are supported of the suspensory Cooper's Ligament. Which can stretch beyond repair and lead to irreversible breast sag when unsupported during exercise.
Actually bras stop boob movement by only 38%, Sports bras can stop by up to 74%.

Wear a sports bra, I can personally attest that it will make exercise easier. Even if it does transform as if by magic your lovely cleavage, as if by magic into a giant monoboob. Capable of destroying small ships if you paddle fast towards them. Love, care and protect that cleavage unless you want them to your knees because of abuse.

Anyway, I'd better stop rambling and go make up some socks and do some spinning or crafty stuff.

For I have more craft than common sense for...
I have some pins, fingers with blood in them, an idea and, some wool (ah ha ha ha ha some she says, some. They may as well call it a mine, a mine. Somehow I have the feeling my paws will end up come out looking the same in regards to carnage). I have a cunning plan what crafty that sounds quick and involves wool to try out next. Give me a quick fix as it were.

This may not go well, for my fingers. I may need gardening gloves. And some plasters. Lots of plasters.

I also need to stop feeling temped to pretend to surf the pivot point in the middle of the bendy busses (at 6:30 am) and daydreaming about bringing squirty bottles home and filling it with a watery mixture of yellow fairy and tea and squirting it out the window at the drunks whilst screaming in random words in Anglo saxon at the noisy buggers (I have a dictionary and know a few words, woll is wool, wollen is made from wool, wulf is what eats the source of the wool. catt(e) is what lies in the wool or sits on you can't move, to get the wool, ears means arse, which is what I scream (in english) when something goes wrong, tongolcreaft sounds cool and is on the same page as arse) . I could so make the contents look sooo dodgy and... soapy.

Anyway, I'm off make up socks-bought pairs* craft and wander around in my jammies. Thought I'd share that with you, as if you needed/wanted to know.

* high mobility socks, awesome discovery when I made it, they get bloody everywhere and usually, not in pairs. Very mysterious. You know we have a clothes basket (and sock box, it jingles), it eats packets of pegs, that's an afternoon I'll never get back. Its also typically filled with CGBF's shirts. Hang on.............................. Right that's some stuff sorted. Actually that reminds me I should go on a sock hunt in the near future. Do I sound sock obsessed?

At least my scarf (of Cool Temperatures) is almost finished.