Tea and Cakes

Right then. Where was I?
I’d got up at a stupid hour of the morning, flown over to England, dyed some yarn, bought some yarn, looked at some folorn looking alpacas (it was raining), and listened to a lovely talk by Meg Swansen.

I didn’t take any photos, but just before my afternoon workshop I enjoyed a particularly excellent piece of victoria sponge cake with a nice cup of tea. The super thing about the day was how friendly everyone was - it was like there was one big conversation going on - admiring purchases and works in progress with complete strangers over a cuppa made for a great atmosphere.

Anyway, on with the day.

I spent the afternoon in a “plan your own aran’ workshop with Jared Flood (and lots of other Irish knitters for company). We covered the maths of planning an aran, learned how to cable without a cable needle, and how to steek. (For non-knitters steeking is cutting your knitting, used to make cardigans out of projects knit in the round as a big tube for example).

I had no real interest in learning to cable without a cable needle, but Jared didn’t give us a choice, and I’m so pleased, because it’s so easy and so much quicker. This is especially useful as I’m up to the cabled bit on a cabled-yoke sweater I’m knitting myself.

We got to see Jared’s Aran Cardigan, and the original Cobblestone (named for the Dublin pub).

Anyway, the steeking. We knit a swatch to work on. First step was to put a marker thread through to highlight where to cut.

Now, because we spent lots of time in the workshop asking Jared questions we ran out of time to practice the steek ourselves. So, afterwards the Irish contingent met up and headed to the pub for a pint, some grub, and for me to finish my steek before I forgot what to do.

First, crochet chain either side of the steek to keep in in place. I needed help with my crochet, but managed ok (and have been pondering crochet since).

Next, remove the marker thread, and get ready to cut. I readied myself with about half a pint of ale.

Then, all there is to do is cut!

My heart was thumping, but I managed it, thanks to the support of my fellow knitters. Now I want to steek everything.

Sinead and I reluctantly headed off at about 8.30, and I fell in the door at home at 1am, where I slept soundly and dreamed of yarn. It was a super day.

Yesterday was World Wide Knit in Public Day, and I had a fabulous time knitting in the city with lots of friends. I managed not to take any photos of it all though so I have nothing interesting to blog.

Instead, let me tell you about last weekend, which I spent in Coventry with a whole load of knitters and lots of yarn. Super.

I left home at 4.30am, for the 6.30am flight to Birmingham. That’s very early and I’m not really a huge fan of mornings. I met up with Sinead on the flight. (Incidentally, Sinead took plenty of photos yesterday and at the UK Ravelry day, so go and read all about them both on her blog too). Coventry was only a 15 minute train ride away from Birmingham airport, and the event was only a short walk from the train station, and was very handily signposted for us.

I wasn’t planning on buying much, so had signed up for two workshops and a talk in an effort to keep me away from all the lovely stalls. It didn’t really work, but I was pretty good, and there was an awful lot of yummy yarn there. The vast majority of it was British yarn from small independent spinners/dyers - which is most definitely guilt free yarn to buy. And oh! The colours! So many lovely things.

I started out in a yarn dyeing workshop run by Jon from Easyknits. I’d bought some yarn from Jon at the iKnit day in London in September which was lovely to knit with, and Jon had been so friendly then that I figured his workshop would be lots of fun, and I couldn’t have been more right. I was a little bit worried that it would have been quite technical and there would have been lots to remember, but actually it was a lot more relaxed and hit and miss and creative and fun. I’d feel confident that I could come away and do some dyeing myself now, and after seeing everyone else’s finished yarns I’d have a better idea about colours. The workshop felt like a couple of hours playing about with colours and painting and making a big mess, and it was a lovely way to start the day. (It was also helped along by the delicious gingerbread men that Jon’s partner had baked for us. Mmmmmm.)

Anyway. The workshop.
First we painted the dye onto our yarns (lovely undyed Blue Faced Leicester).

Here’s mine. I went a bit pale:

Next we sprayed them with vinegar and wrapped them in cling film to make wool sausages:

Then Jon took them away and steamed them to set the dye while I went off to ogle Alpacas in the rain:

And listen to Meg Swansen talk about knitting, design, and Elizabeth Zimmerman:

Later I collected the yarn , and I brought it home and hung it up to dry:

And this morning I wound it up:

I’m calling it “Washed Out Wimbledon”, because it’s almost that time of year, it’s like the Wimbledon colours if they’d been left out in the rain, and I have lots of happy memories of washed out Wimbledons. It will be socks, but I’m not sure which pattern I’ll use yet.

…More in part 2…

A few months ago I started pilates classes. I’m not good at exercising, and signing up for a class means that I go regularly.

The Gurrier has nicknamed pilates German Torture Exercise and I have to say that’s a pretty good description. Sure, it looks like it won’t be that bad, just waving your legs in the air a bit, but it’s not. It’s hard. It involves crunches, and an exercise called ‘the 100′. 100! That’s a lot.

Now, if you go along with the multiple intelligences view of, well, intelligence, spatial-awareness and bodily-kinaesthetic would not be my strong points. Put more simply - I’m crap at gym. It takes me a few goes to ‘get’ a movement. I need it described, slowly, and I need to see it done at the same time, and then to practice it. Also, I still need to hold my hands out in front of me to work out my left and right, so it takes a few seconds longer for me to work out what everyone is doing. If you’re ever in a class with me, don’t look at me to see what you should be doing, because there’s a strong chance I’ll be doing it backwards. Or not at all.

All of this has made pilates a bit of a challenge, but it’s one that I’m enjoying immensely. OK, after a couple of classes it hurt to sneeze, but apparently there are fledgling muscles under my belly! I can’t see them yet, but I can feel them, so I know they’re there. I feel like I’m getting something out of the classes, and I can see signs of improvement, so it’s quite satisfying.

Then, about a month ago I started doing yoga classes too. They’re a couple of nights after pilates, which is great to work out the kinks and stretch me nicely. It’s a very gentle hatha yoga, with lots of guided relaxation thrown into the mix, and is a nice contrast to the pilates. Some of the movements are very similar, but instead of being told to clench my stomach and pelvic floor muscles, I’m told to relax. The two complement each other.

Naturally I have the exact same issues in yoga as I do in pilates, but I’m doing ok. Then last week something very exciting happened.

We learned the half shoulder stand (eventually we’ll be doing headstands, but this is the start).

I can do shoulder stands. It’s the one thing I was able to do as a kid in gym, and I really mean the one thing. Because I could do it I did it a lot. Mum’s a PE teacher, and my cousin used to be into gym (and is a PE teacher too now so probably still is), so when we’d be out in the garden in the summer my cousin would be doing handstands and handsprings and cartwheels all over the place, and I’d be doing my shoulder stand. It’s been a while, as it’s not something I’ve been called upon to do much in my adult life, but muscle memory turns out to be a wonderful thing, and I was able to execute a pretty good attempt at a full shoulder stand on my first try.

At the end of the class my teacher came up and praised me on it, and after the class The Gurrier was congratulating me quite effusively. I tried to explain that really it was no big deal, it’s something I used to do a lot, when I was interrupted: “But Is”, he said. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you try a new movement without falling over.”

I’m a sucker for swaps. I’m trying to wean myself off them, especially as I have way too much yarn, and I’m not good at giving it away. I have plans for it all. I’ll happily knit it and then give it away though. Go figure.

Anyway. Chicwithstix organised an Ireland only swap recently, that appealed to me. It was for a knit/crochet cotton wash/dishcloth, and fairtrade goodies.

I fail at secret swaps apparently, I didn’t realise it was supposed to remain secret once the packages were sent, I just thought it was secret until then. Ooops. Can’t be undone anyway.

I collected my wonderful package from the post office on Friday. The always-fabulous SheKnitUpThatBall spoiled me rotten.

Lookie:

Coffee, sugar, two bars of chocolate (it may look like one in the picture, but I assure you that’s just an optical illusion), lovely fairtrade recipies (with a coffee brownie one to match the ingredients and OMG does it sound tasty), scrummy soft cotton yarn, and six lovely mini washcloths spelling out my name! Lets look at those properly:

Aren’t they great? I love them. Perfect for my skincare routine.

Thank you so much guys, for organising and spoiling me :-)

This morning I went shopping.

Not for books, or yarn, or chocolate, or stationery, or the things I enjoy shopping for.

For clothes.

I don’t enjoy clothes shopping. As mentioned before, I’m most comfortable in jeans, a black t-shirt and runners. I don’t really like shopping for them, but I can deal with it.

Today I went shopping for other clothes. I think that was my first mistake. My second was to go out without a morning cup of tea.

Anyway. I was fairly successful. I managed to buy a new pair of jeans and some plain black trousers, and this made me cocky and over-confident. So, when I saw a little black top on sale for a fiver, that wouldn’t be something I’d usually wear, I figured it couldn’t hurt just to try it on. It was sort of corset-like - sleeveless, tight fitting and structured. Note the tight fitting bit. It unzipped most of the way down the side, and then slipped on over my head. It was ok. Not hideous. I considered buying it.

Then I tried to take it off.

I couldn’t.

I was stuck in it. Completely stuck. The top would not come off. I tried wedging my arms down into it and wriggling it up over my head. I tried turning it inside out and crossing over my arms over my head while reaching back down to pull it up. In a particularly delusional move I took off my shoes and trousers to try to wriggle it over my hips. I considered claiming to love the very much evening wear top so much that I wanted to wear it immediately, despite it being mid-morning. I almost considered shoplifting. I cursed the fact that I took up yoga two weeks ago rather than two years ago. I thought about tearing the top off (it was only €5), but couldn’t. (I then cursed coming out without my sewing kit).

Eventually and after much wriggling and clothes wrangling I managed to remove the top and put my own t-shirt back on. I’d pulled muscles in both my arms but I was free.

I didn’t buy the top.

On Friday night I dreamed of yarn.

I’d been given a skein as a gift. It was a small amount, but oh so light and pretty. Laceweight, with a slight halo (alpaca perhaps?).

The colours were bright rainbow ones - a rosy red; tangy orange; sunshiney yellow; rich, grassy green; bright bright blue; and vivid purple.

It wanted to be something. It took me a while to work it out, but it wanted to be this shawl:
Simple Yet Effective Shawl

And just as I realised that I woke up.

I’ve been thinking about it since then, and almost, almost bought a skein of brightly coloured Noro Kureyon sock yarn in This is Knit on Saturday. I didn’t though, as I’m working through my stash as much as possible at the moment, I’m not nuts about small triangular shawls and I don’t wear bright colours on the whole. I don’t want to knit it in duller, more me colours, and I can’t think of anyone I could give it to. All common sense says no.

So why can’t I stop thinking about it?

Hello. I am still alive. I’ve just been off working lots and having lots of fun and not really getting around to blogging.

One of the many reasons this is bad is that I’ve neglected to post about a fabulous swap package I got. I’m a member of the “This is what a feminist knits like” group on Ravelry, and we had a swap. My awesome swap partner was Sarah from String Theory, and her gifts arrived in the middle of a crazy busy week and really brightened things up for me.

Look at all this!

So many lovely things.
Lovely tasty teas, chocolate covered espresso beans, reeses peanut butter cups which are oh-my-goodness so delicious, loads of sugar and cream yarn which I just love in great bright colours, some cute bird buttons…

A lovely soft cotton washcloth with cinnamon soap (mmmm), and some lip balm.

And last, but definitely not least:

A feminist teacosy, which is so thoughtful and awesome on so many levels.
The picture makes it hard to make out, but it’s knit in Green, White and Violet (for Give Women Votes). It fits both my main teapots perfectly (the other one is a bit taller and skinnier and it works great on that one too). It’s so well made - I’m not up to manipulating three colours like that, and I’m a bit in awe. It’s been well used since it arrived and I love it lots and lots.

I really enjoyed swapping with Sarah - she’s a great person and I really appreciate the time and thought that went into everything she sent me.

I’m not really a huge fan of the whole St Patrick’s Day thing. Although I live here, I’m not in any way, shape or form Irish, nor do I pretend to be. So I find it odd seeing people visiting Ireland and on the telly talking about how they’re Irish when, well, they’re just not. Irish-American, yes. Irish, no. It’s a tricky one I know, because it gets into questions of identity, and that’s not always clear cut for everyone. And although I’m pretty forthright on some things, in general I prefer to live and let live, so this shouldn’t bother me as much as it does.

Anyway. There are 2 things I will not tolerate: reference to “St. Patty’s Day” (Patty? Really? I don’t know anyone called Patrick who would be happy with that as a nickname. Paddy or Pat, but not Patty), and green beer. Green beer is wrong.

I don’t dislike the idea of having a day off work, or object to the festival at all, but the fake leprechauns, and stupid giant green hats, and, well, pick anything you can find in Carroll’s gift shops as a starting point - they annoy me.

So, instead, I stay at home. Much nicer.

Today was a lovely sunny day that felt like the beginning of spring. I’m feeling spring like at the moment - I’m getting on top of my to-do lists slowly and I’m getting my hair chopped short again on Friday. Anyway, a nice sunny day in Dublin means it’s a nice day for a walk in the Phoenix Park.

I love the park. It has so many different faces. We started our walk on a small slightly overgrown path that neither of us had been down before in the Furry Glen, and quickly realised why neither of us had been down there before, and made a mental note not to again, especially at night. Ewww.

Anyway, the rest of the walk was bright and fresh and lovely.

Nice wooded sections

Cute park ranger’s cottages

The pope’s cross and American ambassador’s residence across the 40 acres. The fallow deer are off to the right but out of the picture.

And finally, a cliche but not that unusual a sight the in park:

Then home for a nice spot of lunch and a big mug of tea. Perfect.

This is what I’ve achieved this evening. Half a wonky cloth. It doesn’t matter that it’s a bit wonky: it’s for cleaning the bathroom, and it’s all I’m able for at the moment. Well, that and playing Scramble, a Boggle-like game for the iPhone. I’m a bit addicted to that at the moment.
A productive night so.

Right then. I’ve gone a bit quiet. Sorry about that. You know those times when weeks fly by, and you’re not really sure where they’ve gone, but you know you’ve worked loads, got lots of things done and seen some friends but horribly neglected others?
No? Really?
Well, that’s how my life has been recently.

There are some friends and family who I really need to email, but I’m also going to make a bit of an effort to blog a bit more too.

We’ll see how that goes.