the great Norfolk yarn crawl

This is all Graham's fault. He tried to convince me that today would be too wet for the seaside, so I decided that I'd spend most of today in Norwich and then just take a train to Sheringham without alighting, so that I could get a glimpse of the sea, and maybe even a sniff of the sea but no more. (Believe me, though, if you grew up near the coast you can get serious withdrawal symptoms). Well, as you may have gathered from the previous post, I spent rather longer in Sheringham, after all as I had all but bankrupted myself in Norwich. For Norwich is, gentle reader, the home of Norfolk Yarns, stockists of Noro, Kaalund and other great temptations. It is but a brief bus ride from the City centre. It is all too easy to spend lots of time and even more money. In fact, to guard against temptation I rembered some advice I read in a diet book many, many moons ago. To whit: if you keep your house well stocked with biscuits, you won't crave them. So when I left the house this morning I made sure that I had a knitting project, a crochet project and spare yarn and needles/hooks for sudden creative impulses. So I wouldn't need to buy anything.

So much for the theory. I think today's stash enhancement has outstripped even the dizzy heights I reached at SkipNorth last year. I have silk, I have alpaca, I have merino. I have handpaint, I have tweed. I have addi bamboo circulars. I have a new book of crochet instructions which includes diagrams for left-handers, as well as right (I have a decidedly left-handed niece coming to stay and want to get her hooked). And I still crave biscuits, but that's another story.

Somehow I tore myself away. Only then I ended up at stall 144 on Norwich market. Guess what? 200gms of James Brett marble chunky (in lime and lilac) for £2.95. And other, more expensive things.

Clearly, it was time to head for the beach and hope that the sea air would blast this yarn lust away. But still there was time to while away before heading to the station. Surely Waterstones would be safe? How was I to know that they had Stefanie Japel's Fitted Knits. (None of the bookshops in Cambridge does). Now normally I'd be concerned about sneaking so much conspicuous consumption past Graham. But he's at a college commemoration feast tonight (class of '67).

One scenic hour later (with much crocheting accomplished) I arrived in the (supposed) safety of Sheringham. Alas, I had forgotten that the only way from the station to the seafront goes past Creative Crafts. And they stock Bryspun ivore needles. (And also, alas, the most irresistible Regia yarn in firey reds with glimmers of green and flashes of yellow). (oh, and cute "knitting bee" kits consisting of yellow pompon makers and French knitting dollies striped yellow and black; and--oh, look!--a flower loom. I used to have fun of those when I was a teenager and my teenagedniece is coming to stay, as well as the lefthanded niece).

Help, quick, to the seafront. Sanity restored, I had to head home but not without stopping for fishcake and chips. And a glance in the remaindered book shop (how was I to know that they'd have a bargain Harmony Guide to Crochet?). and the chips left me thirsty so I had to go to the newsagent to get a bottle of water. Was it my fault they had the lastest issue of Crochet today?

(ggrrrr, blogger appears to have eaten up the links I've added, each time I've saved the draft.)

Sheringham seascape (purple prose alert)

Even before I reached the seafront I could tell it was high tide; the sea makes an altogether more percussive sound when the water is swirling over pebbles rather than sand. But there is nothing stacatto about its rhythm, rather there is a swirling chatter.

This was the North Sea in true English summer mode...mainly shades of brown, grey, muddy green and (eventually, at the horizon)indigo. As the waves retreated they left white foam but the breakers rushing in were tipped with shades of coffee and oyster.

The waves left an undulating pattern on the pebbles, think of the curve at the top of a lolly stick alternating with a truncated, straight edge. And as the waves drew back they left cockle shell patterns, veined with ecru foam, in the curved sections. That was the view from above. Later, (quite a bit later, the sound is so hypnotic) strolling a few yards away and looking on sideways it became clear that the "lolly sticks" were actually gullies which the waves had cut through the pebbles.

you realise just how wet it is when...

...you arrive home to find a frog on your doorstep, sheltering from the rain!

laughing in the museum

This week has been (almost) busy. Heavy rain on Monday turned our back garden into a lake (to the utter bewilderment of our cat) and our the contents of garage (which, being a zero car family, we use for storage)had to be hastily re-arranged as water started to flow in... but we got off very lightly compared to many in the midlands and the north. Tuesday night was KTog night. Wednesday (usually a day off) saw me at work for the stocktake, although I did escape for an hour to have lunch with my parents who were in Cambridge for the day. There was more stocktaking on Thursday afternoon (I was spared in the morning so that I could do my turn on the Cambridge Country Market--the organisation formerly known as the Cambridge WI Market-- stall and was delighted to do a roaring trade in my crocheted broochers and corsages).

I had planned to head off to the coast today (to Sheringham and Cromer, about 3 hours away by train) but overslept rather drastically. Tried to do some knitting but it kept going wrong. Well, I suppose to be fair it was me who kept going wrong, not the knitting, but I got really rather fed up with the yarn and needles and so hopped on a bus into town with no plans whatsoever at all. Somehow, I ended up here,where I had a wonderful time just using the "follow your nose wherever it goes" principle. And after some old favourites (cermaic, Italian religious paintings) I ended up in a gallery full of Howard Hodgkin's most recent paintings. And, forgetting all museum-goer's etiquette, I burst out laughing. For Hodgkin's later paintings are broad strokes of vivid colour, textural paint extending onto the frames. Whilst they look quick and spontaneous I noticed that several had dates like "1999-2003". Hmm, is all that texture to do with painting over previous compostions? One picture, in particular, has lots of horizontal bands of colour but then, about a third of the way in from the right, there is an angry vertical band of dark grey. Happily the only other person in the gallery was an attendant and she shared my amusement. Like me, she loved the colours but wasn't sure that she exactly "got" the paintings. But she drew my attention to the wonderful titles. I particularly liked "Old Books". Once I'd seen the title what had previously been just a load of horizontal brush strokes (the rather scratchy ones you get when your brush isn't terrribly well loaded with paint and the bristles are in annoying clumps) really did look like a stack of books.

After that I found a room with a selection of 22 satirical engravings, showing the way the English and French stereotyped each other in (more or less) the 18th century. So: starving Frenchmen roasting frogs on spits outside a pub called "The Roayl Clog" (apparently all French peasants wore clogs) and English ladies in poke bonnets looking most frumpy compared to the elegant French. One English soldier was depicted with a barrel of beer round his neck, possibly the earliest depiction of a British lager lout?

I think I'll have to go back and take another look! Am now planning to head off to the coast tomorrow, though I fear rain may stop play...

I could get used to this...

Sorry about recent silence, having problems with boradband, mainly involving the 15m extension cable between our 'phone socket and this computer...

However, I've been busy getting the hang of working part-time. Lots of outings, lots of crochet, lots of reading (have found "How to Be Free" and "how to be Idle" by Tom Hodginkson particularly useful!) and lots of playing with the camera.

Highlights have been the Cambridge Knitting Group joining Bury St Edmunds Stitch'n'Bitch for a picnic in The abbey Gardens, Bury St E on worldwide knitting in public day and spending this morning processing through Ely to celebrate St Etheldreda's Day. Every so often the procession halted for delightful music (hymns, Mendhelsson, medieval tunes, Andrew LLoyd Webber)and dramatised scenes from St Etheldreda's life. When we reached St E's shrine a very touching death scene was followed by a rousing rendition of "When the Saints Go Marching In". After that, Graham took communion and I went and sat crocheting near the Cathedral entrance.

Bus tickets, Saturday

Just a thought: if you're using stagecoach buses for your journey on Saturday, ask for a "dayrider plus" on the first bus you get on, as it will cover your local journeys, as well as Cambridge-Bury St Edmunds.

Bury St Edmunds knitting picnic (more details)

I'm getting *very* excited about this! It is open to anyone who'd like to come along and knit (suspect I'm going to be taking some crochet, actually) and is taking place at the Abbey Gardens from noon-2pm on Sat 9 June. The place to be is "just inside the main gate, to the right", but I imagine all you need do is listen out for the laughter (if KTogs are anything to go by...).

I'm going to go even if it is pouring with rain, in which case maybe we could meet at the appointed place and then find pubs/cafes to invade.

Meantime, I enjoyed the first day in my new job but am going to have to unlearn lots of procedures. Today was a day off, though. I quickly got the hang of that! I'd been promising myself a trip to Ely since I last went 2 years ago. It is littered with benches in picturesque settings, so there was a great deal of sitting and reading (current reading material "How to Be Free" by the editor of the Idler), a long spell in Ely Cathedral (my favourite part is the newest, the passageway to the Lady Chapel), and rather more retail therapy than is wise on a part-timer's budget. In the cathedral giftshop I found a marvellous little volume on geometry in churches, just crying out to be used in conjunction with Pat Ashforth and Steve Plummer's work over at Woolly Thoughts (sorry, no links this evening as 'phone line is in a very bad mood, and internet connection lasts only seconds). In Toppings Bookshop (which has, incidentally, a better poetry and lit crit section than any shop in Cambridge) I finally found a copy of a weighty tome on Shops and shopping in Engalnd (an architectural study by an employee of English Heritage, that I've been looking out for for some 3 years). And the Ely City Cycle Centre (which does quadruple duty as a purveyor of toys, models and craft equipment, as well as bikes) had some rather tempting hemp yarn (for crochet and macrame) in yummy colours at £1.10 for 71m... All this on a day when a book that I'd totally forgotten that I'd pre-ordered (Nicky Epstein's latest: the lamely titled Knit Never Felt Better) arrived. It has some great ideas but I feel that it has too many illustrations and-- what a con-- many pictures of items using felted knitting have captions saying "Vogue pattern XZZZX". Still, I can see I'm going to have lots of fun with the Shibori section. Husband was heard to mutter, "at last, a use for Rosie's marble collection". Hmm, I get the feeling that he's tired of dusting it (I do keep it in a jar, rather than having them arranged on a tray).

newsflash!

Sorry about the silence of late, but read on and all will become clear.

Today was my last day in my current job and I start a new (part-time) post on Monday. Much as I loved my previous job, the wretched twisty stairs and box-lugging were playing havoc with my knees and ankles and some of the work I'd really enjoyed was no longer needed (thus increasing the proportion of box shifting!). Frustratingly, I leave my previous employer just at the point when I think business is going to soar, but I value my legs and sleep too much to rue this day.

Now I'm planning to catch up with my (neglected) family and friends and go places and do things (will just have to watch new, reduced, income..) And I can get this blog up-to-date with tales of South Africa, patchwork knitting in Marlow, a new technique from Horst Schulz, and the chance to join with the Bury St Edmunds Stitch'n'Bitch on worldwide knitting in public day on 9 June.

Watch this space (if I've any readers leaft after such a long pause...)

a hitherto unexpected talent

we interrrupt details of caught knitting's South African oddysey to bring you rather astonishing news...I appear to have found a sport at which I ain't half bad, the first time this has happened since I won form 2G's 220 yards heats in 1974...

had to go to an area meeting today and it concluded with tenpin bowling. am still feeling lousy, so almost said "no", but have always had a secret hankering to try. Got a strike on my third go, followed by either a 9 or a strike on all except one subsequent go (a miserable 8, followed by 1, so it still added up to 9). I was only bowling at about 5-6mph but just got the knack of bowling straight down the middle!

OK; I'm going to stick my trumpet back in its box now and snatch an early night!

Durban Days

Well, whilst the Von Trapp family might advocate that you "start at the very beginning, the very best place to begin" I've decided to bypass details of our outward journey* and leap straight in to our first few days in South Africa, which we spent in Graham's birthplace: Durban, a coastal city in KwaZulu Natal.

Since I have never managed to master getting multiple photos to appear at the right point in any post I've decided to do lots of tiny weeny posts, with just a pic or 2 each. This probably means that the posts themselves will be in a rather strange order (germ-fuddled brain too dozy to try to think this through) but at least relevant pictures should be with relevant text!

Just to set the scene: most of our time in Durban consisted of socialising and visiting such important sites as "the house where we used to live", "another house where we used to live", "where I went to school", "another school I went to", "where my mother went to school". I do not, alas have a photographic record of either the socialising or the landmarks. But what I have captured are images of a wonderful "wildside of Durban" tour put together by Graham's friend Dave and lots of flora and fauna images from Durban Botanical Gardens and Mitchell Park. the picture with this post is of one of the many trees I fell in love with in the Botanical Gardens. I also fell in love with the crumpets (NB for non-South African readers, "crumpets" are not those lovely doughy things riddled with holes for soaking up maximum quantities of butter, no, South African crumpets are what my mother would call a "scotch pancake" and I would call a "drop scone". Follow this link if you want to read more about this muddled nomenclature. No matter what they're called, in the Botanical Gardens they are served warm, with maple syrup and cream. And you get 2 on a plate!)

If I were to try and encapsulate my memories of Durban in just a few words I'd say "humidity, birdsong, monkeys and fruit bat". Every evening as we dined with Denzil and Bobby we could see a fruit bat swooping around outside!

*fear not, gentle reader, you will get to read about the air traffic control strike at Paris Charles de Gaulle, but probably not for another couple of days...

ho(a)rse flu?

Thanks for all your get well messages. Anne, does cider count as "lots of fluids"? (NB this is just wishful thinking on my part, current drug of choice is lemsip max).

Twice this morning (before voice totally vanished and I was forced to return home) I had people say "ooh, a spring cold, they're nasty they are, hard to get rid of". First time I just fumed silently but the second time I had a bright thought: "I imported these germs from South Africa, so it is an Autumn cold, not a Spring one!". Ha! But then my very dear colleague said "you haven't got South African horse 'flu have you? Mum was just telling me that there's a big outbreak of horse 'flu and its like bird 'flu." Am happy to relate that whilst I may be decidedly hoarse I didn't have anything to do with horses whilst away. I did get quite close to same tame zebras, though... (Perhaps I should also point out that I'm not aware of horse 'flu being transmitted to humans, although mosquitoes are the vector and I have some rather dazzling bites!)

More bizarrely still, twice within the last 24 hours I've had people telling me how pretty I look! This is unheard of. Clearly the lank, greasy hair/no make-up/red rimmed eyes and slightly fevered flush look is coming back into fashion. (Don't think anyone of my build could be called consumptive, but do feel that there's an echo of Victorian novels here). Or maybe it is because the last 3 weeks (holiday and bug) have forced me to rest?

Now I'm off to cough...
(ps post edited to add pic of tame zebras!)

suspended animation

Grr, have been felled by germs. Had to give up on work yesterday afternoon and have just escaped from bed for first time in 24 hours. It must be about 3 years since I last felt as grotty as this...

Will aim to upload pix on Tuesday now. Meantime Laura (Graham's daughter) has been working away on this computer all day as her laptop has died. She's planning to buy a reconditioned one tomorrow.

the travel socks are off...

Feeling more than a little tired after a 23+ hours in transit but just wanted to report that I'm back in the UK after 2 weeks meeting Graham's family and friends in South Africa. Amazing hospitality from so many people (we stayed with Denzil, Bobby, Jenny, Colin and Mary and enjoyed a memorable meal and drinking/old photograph viewing session with Aunt Earna). Spectacular scenery and wildlife (am intending to upload inadequate pix and info on Sunday). But most of all I want to thank Graham for tipping his friends off about my passions: crafts and wildlife. As a result of this David took us on a whirlwind tour of Durban's nature reserves with lunch at a craft gallery thrown in; Kay drove us through the Valley of 1000 hills and took me to the yarn shop in Hillcrest (have some lovely new yarn to report); Bill and Mary took us to Umgeni Valley (zebra, hartebeest, blasbok), and St John (who shared our trip to the Drakensberg mountains) made sure that we took in some fabulous shops/workshops on the way there and back (beads, embroidery). alert readers will notice that one of my top interests is missing; South African cider is, alas, underwhelming with only 2 brands widely available. Their flavour seemed to have more in common with lager than apples. So I enjoyed gin & tonic in the mountains!

Pics, links and info should start to appear here from Sunday onwards...

still here!

Sorry about silence on the blog front of late... am back on dial-up (so please excuse lack of links and pix) whilst trying to sort out some broadband "issues". Moreover I've been battling killer toothache and neck problems.

But I've been enjoying lots of good things, too: a favourite colour secret pal swap, SkipNorth (the infamous "knitting and shopping" retreat in Yorkshire) and several bottles of Old Rosie Scrumpy (courtesy of WyeSue my scrumpy enabler!)

The favourtie colour swap was huge fun. I was being spoiled by Holly in Auburn, who sent me the most gorgeous blue heron "railtrack" yarn in dark reds with highlights of grey/blue/purple plus patterns and --best of all-- a brooch knitted in mohair with tiny miniature knitting needles. But I was spoling someone far closer to home: Marianne lives in Cambridgeshire and I had a wonderful time finding treats for her. Better still, as well as a beautiful thank you card, she dropped in to see me on Saturday. What a fabulous surprise.

And as for SkipNorth...Woohoo. It was wonderful.. I set off with a very strict yarn budget and came home with 57p change fro, it. But most esciting of all, I now have a wonderful array of colourful crochet hooks which I discovered at Lee MIll (near Holmfirth) HQ of the Knitting & Crochet guild. Am itching to use these (and my lovely new yarns) but have realised that I need to knit up some sample garments for the patchwork knitting course I'm teaching for Crafty Events (in marlow, second w/end of May). So glad that I've only promised baby/child size ones.

Ouch! This is clearly enough typing for tonight. Hope to have Broadband re-established soon and will then be able to show pix of colourswap goodies, SkipNorth haul etc.

odi et amo

Well, when there's nothing interesting to blog about there's always poetry. Here is the extraordinary piece by Catullus known as "poem 85":

odi et amo. quare id faciam fortasse requiris.
nescio, sed fieri sentio, et excrucior.

"I love and I hate. How can that be, perhaps you ask. I do not know, but I feel it happening and I am in torment". At least, I think that's how it translates.

This poem really sums up how I feel at the moment, but not because of any romantic problems!

Never mind, at least I've been having fun hooking (a curly whirly in acid green, cyclamen and a riotuous multi-colour from 21st century yarns), there's a KTog tomorrow night and SkipNorth is less than a fortnight away. And, in a bid to unwind, I'm making a point of changing out of my suit as soon as I get home each night.

chop, chop...

Anyone remember that advert from the early 80s (might have been for British Telecom) that featured loads of paneguins and the following mantra repeated over and again:

chop chop busy busy work work bang bang, chop chop busy busy work work bang bang, chop chop busy busy work work bang bang...

Life's been feeling rather like that recently I'm afraid,and I don't suppose thta it would be of remote interest to anyone else, hence the lack of posts.

But things are looking up. There was a great KTog last Tuesday and on Sunday I went to Textiles in Focus, to take a turn on Liz's stall and to indulge in retail therapy with Gill (That naughty Silkwood sock yarn in Spangles told me that I needed it. Who was I to disagree?). And I've a day off today, most of which has been spent alternating between snoozing and knitting. And my lovely neighbour Rosie Jennings (reflexologist extraordinaire) celebrated her birthday yesterday, so we're off to our local for a celebration this evening.

Oh, and soon it will be SkipNorth: yay!

Secret Pals revealed

SP 10 has finished (well, officially at any rate, but a parcel I sent in early Jnauary still hasn't made it to the States). I've had tremendous fun spoiling Tracey and I've been well and truly spoiled by Shelly. Thanks to both of you!

Otherwise I've been working, working, sleeping, working ... so I can't wait for Tuesday's Ktog: Granta Bar, University Centre, Granta Place, off Mill Lane, 7-9pm

the joys of missing the bus...

Yay! Back again after some sort of blip in Tiscali's service. Have been itching to blog since Wednesday morning, when I missed the 7.40am bus (this is unheard of for me, but my sleep had been mightily disturbed by unearthly noises!). Even though (oh, the horror) my watch read 7.38 as I flew the house, I *convinced* myself I'd make it. (After all, the thing is rarely on time).

The stop was suspciously devoid of people when I got there, so I decided to read. But, as I pulled my novel from my bag, I was aware of swift movement in the field opposite. Two animals, long, low-down in the grass, rusty pelts, dark tips to their tails; chasing each other round and round and round. Yes, the night-time catawaulers: a pair of foxes a-courting. One soon loped off, but the other remained, obscured by a stand of tall grass (hope it wasn't dining on the resident barn owl!). When I got on the 8 o'clock bus I saw friends I'd not seem for ages (bonus!) and they soon spotted the fox, too.

NB. Eagle-eyed readers will note that there has been sweet FA in the way of knitting/crochet content of late. This, alas, reflects a dose of RSI caused by peeling price stickers off and the wretched post-viral Blahs. Boo!

crafty special/catch them young

here's a comment that's been left for me, and which needs to be spread far and wide.

"Thought you might like to know that The Guardian are doing a one off craft guide this Saturday Feb 3rd which includes features on (amongst other crafty stuff) knitting fever, best knitting on the web, how to knit basics, knitty gritty & tips for the needle novice. Well worth a look. Please pass it on! "

Now: how's this for a case of "catch' em young"? I've been a Guardian reader since before I could read; back in the early 60s my daddy used to sit me on his knee when he got home from work and read the leader column to me! Entertainingly, he didn't read the Guardian out of political conviction (he voted Tory in those days but later joined the SDP and is now a Lib Dem). No, it was because when he went up to Oxford he discovered that the Guardian was available at a special cheap rate for students. So, thanks to a special offer c1942 I'm reading the Guardian in 2007.

the joys of dusk

I love the liminal times of day: dawn and dusk, when the subtle tipping from darkness to light (or vice versa) occurs, often with colourful skies and the sound of birdsong. (I felt really thrown when I visited the Seychelles and night came down like a theatre curtain).

A day off work is a real treat for me at the moment, as it means that I get to enjoy the dusk. Today I've watched it from inside the house, as I was VERY GLAD to be inside after having locked myself out (the neighbour who has a spare key wasn't there, so I sat shivering on the door step for some time, then invited myself round to another neighbour, who cheered me up with camomile tea, and a spare key for the neighbour who has out key result!). Hooray for wonderful neighbours.

But last Tuesday, whilst en route to the KTog, I was at the local bus stop. The sky was glowing (that inimitable winter combination of grey with apricot pink highlights) and two swans flew over. It was magical. Fortunately the lengthening days mean that I'm now heading off to work at dawn, rather than in total darkness.