A blogger's miscellany

1. I'm aware it's been a while since I last posted, unfortunately I haven't been too well, I overdid things somewhat and then muddled up the date of my flu jab and turned up 24 hours too early.  This lead to me missing sleep to get up early two days running which is what finished me.  It seems that despite more than 12 years' practice I still haven't quite got the pacing thing quite right.

In order to combat my disorganisation I have purchased a diary for the coming year, it's simple, small but stylish and a great cheerful colour.


2. I have been enjoying this song a lot lately, it is simple but full of hope


3. I have done a lot of knitting lately but most of it is secret Christmas knitting, which I can't show on here just in case.  In between I have been doing some small ornaments though such as the small jumper below.  I'm also having a go at the adorable mini snowman from Mochimochiland's miniatures' collection.


4. I'm very excited about Kate Davies' forthcoming book The Colours of Shetland and am looking forward to knitting the shawl shown at the top of her blog and in the meantime am planning to knit her pattern which came out today - Snawheid hat, .  You can see her adorable dog Bruce helping with the photographs of the hat here.

I'll try not to let it be quite so long before the next post.

Observations in a garden, between seven and eight on a June evening

I am sitting on the old bench in the middle of the garden in the cool of the evening. Little snatches of sunshine have made their way through the tall trees to the west and are illuminating a piece of the trellis, making the bark of the wild cherry shine in a fluttering leaf-filtered light and turning a few privileged leaves of the apricot tree translucent and more intensely green.

The biggest sensation around me is the wind, first in big whooshing gushes in the taller trees, then echoed down lower in the shrubs, bushes and smaller trees of our garden. The sound is all around me, gentle, rushing and persistent, putting into sound the scritchy-scratchiness of the holly trees as the leaves scrape against one another. Most of the sound is more gentle though, a soft constant, drowning out more modern noise, lifted and enlarged by bigger gusts, varied with sudden stillnesses when only the slightest breeze travels lightly across my hands and around my body.



The tall trees are like illuminated green tents, formed by leaves caught in evening sunlight, full of life. Around them insects dance and birds fly to and fro chirruping to one another. One young bird cries persistently, as though searching for his parents, or wishing to affirm his own identity.

This is the hour when often a blackbird will sit on an ariel above a neighbour's roof, or perhaps on a convenient chimney pot, singing to all the world, but tonight he is elsewhere. Often when I sit here I am aware of the birds around me, even if I cannot see them, hearing the little scufflings and hoppings and twitterings as they go about through the trees and bushes and fences around me, communicating with one another in a constant game of, "Where are you?" "I am here, where are you?". Occasionally a bold fellow, usually the robin, will come closer to see who or what I am and what I am doing in his territory, sometimes lingering to look over my shoulder and hovering near.

If you sit still for long enough you can be rewarded by the birds coming down to the seed feeder as though you are not there, scuttling in for a piece of sunflower seed before carrying their prize into the wild cherry or holly trees to peck it into submission.

My fingers are cold now but I have no wish to go in, the evening is so perfect, the sky so blue after so much grey and rain and I can smell the already dampening grass beneath my feet, speckled with clover flowers. In between the wind bears towards me the scent of the roses and honeysuckle, both blooming profusely and other scents whose origins are foreign to me. The wind ruffles my back and I watch the golden green leaves of the biggest of the trees fluttering too and fro, the branches pitching and tossing like the sea.






The adult robin comes onto the trellis, looks around the garden to check all is well, flutters to the fence and speeds off between the houses. Leaf shadows show like puppets across pots, plants and bows and a bumble bee, out late, investigates a likely looking nasturtium, crawling bodily into the heart of the flower. A snatch of song comes through the wind, comes closer and the conversation continues across the gardens, but I must leave the garden to its true owners, it is only ever on loan to me, and go in and attend to supper.


(As written except for corrections to typing and spelling errors, 30th June 2012.  Photographs from other occasions)

Feminine Fripperies

I have treated myself to some awesome brooches and hair slides from colourful company Acorn and Will. They came beautifully wrapped up in tissue paper, making it a real treat to receive and the postage was extremely reasonable. I love the retro style and the detail of each brooch. While the prices make them very wearable for everyday use, rather than worrying about losing an expensive piece of jewellery. I think they would make excellent presents and should set off my winter coat or some of my shawls a treat.

I'm still eyeing up the Esme brooches and hoping more come into stock soon.

Sunday afternoon

A beautiful sunny afternoon, a shady garden, a comfortable chair, some good reading material, some knitting and that classic retro treat: a strawberry split. The birds were singing in various trees and bushes and next door's cat was fast asleep at the bottom of the garden.

Above me an awesome sky. Gloriously relaxing.

Destruction

Watching the beautiful William Morris wall paper in my parents' hall, in one of my favourite patterns, Willow Bough, being ripped off, so cracks in the plaster behind can be attended to, is making me feel most sad.
I know that soon Morris' masterpiece will be up there anew. But for now I feel sad.

Thought for the day

"...I will be flesh and blood;

For there was never yet philosopher

That could endure the toothache patiently,

However they have writ the style of gods,

And made a push at chance and sufferance."

Much Ado About Nothing, Act 5, Scene 1

The Gentle Sex

This afternoon I was able to indulge in spending the afternoon watching a black and white film, something I have always enjoyed doing. On this occasion Film 4 were showing a second world war propaganda number called *The Gentle Sex", which used seven women's lives to show the contribution women were making to the war efforts.

Like many such propaganda films of the period it was well made, well acted, and although it was no Brief Encounter it was engaging and gently educative. The periodic "set speeches" in which characters earnestly discussed the themes of women's role in the war and what the war was fundamentally being fought for did jar at times, and with the hindsight we now have over the seventy years that have elapsed since then gave some of their idealism a tragic irony. Despite the horrendous ills of Nazism, their defeat has not, alas, meant that the world has become necessarily a better place; new sources of evil have sprung up. Truthfully no human war could end evil in the war, it is too deeply in ourselves.

However, the film was right that the war would change women's place in society, it did, perhaps not quite as far as the idealists would have liked, but like their mothers in the first war, they had an impact. I liked the film's emphasis on how women were needed to win the war, were essential and showed them working alongside men in a variety of occupations: manning anti-aircraft guns, driving and mending lorries, working capably and hard.

So... why then, after a stirring finale showing our heroines helping to shoot down an airplane, were the closing credits presented the form of a cross stitched embroidery? I found the juxtaposition interesting and frankly startling. Perhaps one could argue that they were comparing women's peacetime, decorative, fairly useless role and occupation with their wartime, utilitarian, essential role? Perhaps it was just a lazy way of demonstrating the film's feminine subject matter? Certainly in that portion of the film I saw no woman embroidered anything, though many knitted and this is by no means the first time I have seen knitting stand for the new role in society that the war had given to women. For example, in Daphne du Maurier's 1943 play The Years Between there is a contrast made between the main protagonist's pre-war embroidery, when she was "just" a wife and wartime knitting, when she is active in politics. Interestingly du Maurier's play was written in the same year as this film was released and both share a pre-occupation with winning the peace as well as the war.

To the women of World War II

One could question why this film was felt necessary in the first place, but then to expect women's role automatically to be considered as important as a man's, particularly back in the 1940s, is perhaps to be as hopelessly idealistic as the film's characters were about the purpose of the war. Its very title says a great deal about the attitudes the film was seeking to challenge. To an audience today the sight of a woman in military uniform is everyday; in 1939 it still had the potential to shock, although as the film points out, through the memories of an elderly lady of driving an ambulance in the first war, women taking an active, rigorous role in war was not new to this conflict. Yet the contribution of these women to the war effort is still little discussed and it is only comparatively recently that any kind of memorial to them was erected in London, so perhaps this film should have shouted louder?

Shaking off the black dog

I've been meaning to write a less "heavy" post for a while now, but haven't quite got around to it as I've been feeling a bit down and apathetic and lethargic, which is not me: I hate it. So I'm trying to shake it off, remember the good things.

Spring and early summer are particularly easy times of year in which to find good things to celebrate, even when it's been raining constantly as in the past few days, especially as we have needed the rain so very much. There have been plenty of birds in the garden, yesterday a wren was making a disproportionate amount of noise for a bird so tiny while feeding its young and a fledgling robin has been making his fluffy first attempts at solo life and visiting our bird feeder. So birds and their song: there is good thing one.

Then the plants, oh the plants, coming up in merry profusion and confusion, self seeding, growing back from apparently lifeless twigs, we have had a baby cherry tree, several cow slips and a single rogue daffodil coming up in the middle of the lawn, plenty of nasturtiums growing from last year and flowering gloriously, with a golden colour that looks like condensed sunshine and roses, so many roses. Around the roses, which are past their first flush of glory, are two flowering Jasmines, which are smelling heavenly - I go out into the garden and stand by them and inhale! Our garden is starting to look like a garden and less like an untidy patch of ground. The vegetables are coming along nicely too; the runner beans in particular, appreciating the rain and having astonishing growth spurts. Bees of many varieties (hard to identify as they do not stay still long and are very small!) are busy all through the day on all the flowers, particularly around the Hebe hedge by the front door.

Inside there have been some good plays on the radio lately, including some on the Plantagenet kings and a Terrence Rattigan season celebrating his centenary. Some good books, though the only one I can remember having read recently is Dorothy Whipple's High Wages, an engaging and interesting novel about life in a Lancashire in the early twentieth century. The protagonist, Jane, is a very likable character with real spirit, at times when reading I found myself 'cheering her on' as she took on the attitudes and set ways of the community around her.

Naturally I have been knitting still too, socks, baby items for the ongoing population explosion among my friends, hats, a cardigan, the usual things. But my heart is not quite in it just now, I am not sure why, but I can't quite settle or focus. My concentration is not good, yet I am bored of simpler patterns. Though looking through my recent photographs I have finished a couple of major projects recently, including a baby blanket, so I should perhaps expect a bit less of myself?

Were I physically well the depression would be so much easier to shake off through keeping busy and doing new things, changing things, exercising. I can do so little of any of that and it does get to me sometimes. I am trying to keep going and battle on, keep trusting Jesus and staying positive, but goodness me there are times when it is hard!

Now we are (twenty)-six

I turned twenty-six a couple of weeks and I'm still trying to adjust to being a really very adult age. It is the sort of age where one should have one's life beginning to be on track and heading somewhere, career, own place, own life; only I don't. Yet another birthday has come and gone and I'm still here, still sick, still at home, still seemingly going nowhere. Once again I need to look to God and remember that He "knows what He's a-doing of" and that He looks at things differently. Looking to Him, trusting in Him, pressing on to know Him are the things that matter, whether I have an independent life or not and remember that He loves me just as I am.

I also need to return to looking at the small good things of life, the

perspective that can bring sanity and even content to hard times. I was very blessed on my birthday, my mother and sister collaborated to make me a cake and I received many lovely cards and presents and was even sent flowers - via Interflora! My supply of reading matter for the next couple of months is assured, though I have already savoured and enjoyed Henrietta Sees It Through by Joyce Dennys - an utter delight and brilliant evocation of the small things in life, much in the same vein as Jan Struther's Mrs Miniver.

Naturally my haul included knitting related items, my good friend Peppermintpenguin (her ravelry name) sewed me a lovely project bag, and I had several gorgeous knitting books including More Last Minute Knitted Gifts and Alice Starmore's famous Fair Isle book (reprint, not the original). So as you can see, I have very little to complain about really.

While I am twenty-six I must re-read A A Milne's excellent book of verse

Now We Are Six, a book I remember with affection from my childhood - as a passing note I would recommend Milne's writings for adults as well as his renowned Winnie the Pooh books. I can still remember turning six, in pre-prep 1 at school, feeling tremendously grown up and having a lovely party. On that note of nostalgia I shall return to my knitting as I need to get more socks made.

12000m

A bit over a year ago I registered for a website called knitmeter.com which, as the name suggests, is a tool for recording how much yarn you have knit up over a period of a week, a month or a year. As a bit of fun at the start of this year I decided to see if I could knit 1000 metres a month during this year and yesterday I hit my ultimate target of having knit more than 12000m in 2010 - 12040m to be exact. I may stop using the site though, because at times it made knitting a little bit stressful - worrying that I hadn't hit my "target" for the month, even though the target was utterly meaningless.

So there is one of my plans for the year achieved, if an odd one. My other 'resolution' or aim last year was to knit a pair of socks a month, which I almost achieved - I made 11 socks over the year - though I've still got half a sock on the needles. As of today I have finished the seriously warm knee high socks I started on Christmas day so that should help in the next cold spell.

For 2011 I would like to knit at least one item a month for charity - probably for St Mungo's mainly - and also keep developing design ideas. In non-knitted areas of life I would like to get back on the Weightwatchers waggon, having fallen off in a spectacular fashion over Christmas, and keep living more healthily and losing weight. It would be good to make up the Clothkits bag kit I bought ages ago and generally improve my sewing skills, learn to use my new camera and I would like to keep blogging and keep writing. Otherwise generally keeping on building on the CBT skills I learned earlier in the year and be able to be less at the mercy of my mood, and be more sociable and probably most importantly keep walking closely with Jesus. I pray I can keep pressing on into God, rather than just drifting along, get to know Him better and study His word more, grow as a Christian.

Most of all I'd like to get better, but that's more in the "pipe dream" end of things! I have no idea what the next year will contain or whether I'll manage the things detailed above, I sincerely hope so, but I know that God will be with me through the year and that He will never leave me or forsake me, so that's the important stuff covered.

In which I am in danger of veering on the Pollyanna-ish

As it is a while since I blogged last I thought I would write again; not about anything in particular you understand, but simply in a general manner. Church things, as discussed in the last post, are a lot better and we've all communicated more, which can only be a good thing.

Today has been a long dull day of tiredness and crash from last night's dinner party, even though the parents did the majority of the work, more than three hours' socialising was always going to take its toll. Although it was nice to see everyone and enjoy that convivial atmosphere of sitting around a table eating with others I do still hate the crash that follows doing more than usual. Crashing is miserable, especially that tired, achy dragging down part of it.

Sorry, I was determined when I came on here that I was not going to write a miserable post! Hmm, let's think about some good things (yes, I know, sickeningly Pollyanna of me).

Good books: I'm reading The Wouldbegoods by E Nesbit, which is good jolly reading, the children in the tale are woefully bad at being good and in fact the majority of their attempts to be good seem to end in utter disaster for all concerned. In the bath I'm reading Aunt Mame by Patrick Dennis, which is deliciously funny and just right for the bath. It is about an orphaned ten year old boy who is sent to live with his exotic Aunt Mame in New York in the summer of 1929 and covers all her wonderful adventures. I'm aware that I'm not giving its due, you'll have to take my word for it. For humour it is easily the equal of Wodehouse (though less convoluted), Waugh, Nancy Mitford or E F Benson (a litany of the greats in my opinion) and Aunt Mame is every bit as engaging as 'Mrs Harris' (of Paul Gallico's Mrs Harris goes to Paris), though considerably less terrifying than Wodehousian aunts.

Good friends, an especial mention goes to the Ravelry group "British Banter" - happy 1st (week) anniversary everyone! Thank you for making me laugh all week and still being there when things need to get more serious. And many thanks to the penguins for their sterling work of moderating. Life Group was good this week too, interesting discussion, even if confession isn't the cheeriest subject (though of course it is a very important one).

Good knitting: the fair isle scarf is virtually at 50% done, I just need to keep going and get the second half done in about the same time. Then write up the pattern, what fun that will be... more fiddling with Excel. I have no idea how accountants cope.

So, here's to the next week and to staying cheerful and not dwelling on sad or nasty things (like the benefits' appeal hearing in early November - the part about the legal parts that I don't understand much about).

I leave you with a quotation from E Nesbit, which as someone whose clothes are generally untidy, despite my valiant efforts, I greatly appreciate:

You should not judge people harshly because their clothes are tidy.

My hot water bottle and I are retiring to bed at this juncture. So long and thanks for all the fish.

Extravagance

I committed a piece of terrible extravagance today: I bought a new pair of slippers, even though my old ones aren't worn out yet! Shocking I know. They are my favourite shade of teal/bluey-green, what can I say? That said I do spend most of my autumn through to spring (so most of the year) wearing slippers, especially as I'm mainly around the house. One sign of declining health has been my outdoor shoes lasting far longer than they used to. So now I have "smart slippers", for occasion wear, cocktail parties and the like; and everyday slippers for more prosaic occasions like knitting and listening to the radio.

In the same outing (yes, I managed to get out of the house for the first time since last Tuesday! hurrah!) I treated myself to some bright red plaid pyjamas with Scottie dogs on the pocket. They are brushed cotton, heavenly soft and warm, so warm.

But the most especially exciting discovery of the day has got to be the discovery that there is a fourth series of The Good Life!!!!!!! How did I not know this?! The DVD seems to be being re-released so in a week or so I will be in DVD heaven, watching new episodes I've never seen before! If you have never heard of The Good Life I should explain that it is a 1970s sitcom starring Richard Briers, Felicity Kendal, Paul Eddington and Penelope Keith about a couple who decide to go in for self sufficiency in suburbia and the trials and tribulations it causes their status conscious neighbours. There are some serious ideas at the heart of the series about the way we live our lives and it resonates now, but more than that despite the obvious signs that we are in the 1970s of flares and the like, it still remains fresh, very well acted and most importantly funny. Watch it, watch it now!

I just have to survive until around 22nd September when I'll get my DVD, how hard can it be?!
On the whole today hasn't been a bad day, though a tired one and I still have the stupid migraine I've had all week and left to myself I'm still inclined to get gloomy, but I think I'm moving in the right direction on the whole. Hopefully and God willing.

Putting together thoughts

Beans in situ

I've been wanting to blog for a while now but been having difficulty working out how to put into words and sentences and paragraphs exactly what I wanted to say or even pinning down the thoughts I wanted to capture. So I thought a list of what I've been thinking and feeling and experiencing might work better.1. Desperate for decent sleep, haven't been sleeping well recently, really takes its toll
2. We've had some good runner beans from the garden, our record for one day last week was seven (pictured below) but today Dad picked 11 - which was enough for us to have just homegrown beans for tea, no bought ones added in. A small horticultural achievement perhaps, but one of which we are proud. Dad keeps talking about how many beans he could grow on a couple of acres.3. I've been knitting a new jumper Cream Puff Pullover, started a week and a half ago and one inch away from splitting the whole body to do the shoulder/armhole shaping. If it keeps up at this rate it will be the fastest jumper I've ever knit, I'm loving it. The gorgeous yarn is helping too - King Cole Merino Blend in Kingfisher, great value and feels so soft, with that 'proper wool' sproing to it.
4. Our tomatoes are mainly still green, it looks like we'll shortly be making green tomato chutney.
5. Weight watchers seems to be going OK, I've so far lost 6lbs in 3 weeks, which seems to be a good rate of loss, here's hoping I can keep it up.
6. My obsession with ratatouille continues unabated. So delicious, so low in points (virtually none... except for a bit of olive oil) and yet so filling. I'm half way through my second batch since I started WW. Before anyone starts worrying about my diet becoming monotonous - it's OK, I've got a Weight watchers cook book on the way and one on "seasonal salads", should be nice to get some new ideas.
7. I got a cool new case for my crochet hooks, I'd had vague thoughts of making my own but couldn't see how I'd be able to avoid having to put a zip in and I'd rather not spend my time wrestling zips, so in the end I went for the lazy route and bought one.
I've called him Oswald, after the Northumbrian king, in tribute to the brilliant lectures by Professor Rollason at Durham.
8. Despite needing more yarn about as much as a hole in the head I fell for some more yarn by my favourite indie-dyer Violet Green today, a second in rainbow bright colours which was seconded because of green flecks, which I presume were initially unintended. I'm never deterred by green flecks and the yarn looked so gorgeous and so I just had to buy it, after all, we disabled have got to stick together!
9. Because of feeling extra-awful these past few days I keep feeling sorry for myself and this evening have felt quite miserable, despite the amazing headache pills making today so much more bearable. I'm trying to find new ways to deal with this, ways that don't involve comfort eating, which I used to do far, far too much. I'll admit I did treat myself today to some chocolate, though staying within my "Points". I think this may be one reason why the jumper is going so fast. For now I'm just trying to ride it out, "this too will pass" as they always say.
10. To try to occupy myself with something positive and encouraging, rather than because I "should", I have been catching up with the sermons from church, the one from a couple of weeks ago I just listened to cut home in some interesting ways, about how we need to engage with Jesus, it's something I've struggled with of late, I feel like I'm drifting along and don't really know how to get onto any sort of course. I'm doing my best to keep my relationship with Jesus going and stay close, but I feel so tired and jaded, like I've been through so much and just can't keep going on. I need to grapple with some of this, but somehow lack the energy and strength, because I have so little of it and I'm just so tired. I keep reminding myself of Matthew 11:

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

I don't know the answer to all this, partly because I'm not entirely sure of the question(s). Spending time with Jesus seems important though.

There: some random thoughts in ten points, very neat and tidy. Now I'm for bed, hopefully to sleep.

Post 101

My last post was my one hundredth; quite a landmark if I say so myself. I'm not entirely sure how to mark it, despite having blogged one hundred times I would still describe myself as a beginner in the art, though I now have the blog looking aesthetically more attractive.

Thinking about the things I like about the blogs I read a lot, the things that attract me to them is not just good writing, but also good photos and plenty of them, so I would like to improve my photographic skills and make my blog more picture orientated, though not to dilute the writing, but to complement it. Although this could be tricky as my camera is not currently working, it keeps saying there is a problem with the picture card; one of mine will now no longer work in the computer - irritatingly, as that is the card with all the pictures on it - the other is new and works in the computer but not the camera: even if I manage to mend it I would possibly like a camera upgrade. Mine is about five years old and my phone now has more mega-pixels.

In other news I'm working on my first pair of gloves with proper fingers and also the first ever vintage pattern I've knit, this pattern to be exact, in a gorgeous dark blue yarn from Abstract Cat crafts, dark blue with little hits and tones of turquoises just beginning to head into green, which I bought from folksy.com. The yarn is utterly gorgeous, though the dye is coming off on my hands a little; I'm going to be looking up how to fix dye once I've knit these gloves! The base yarn is as lovely as the colours and the fabric is firm but not stiff, with that "squish" and "sproing" you get with good wool yarn.

I'm not feeling fantastic this week, tired and crashing and trying not to be down. I am trying to rest it out and CBT myself when necessary, separate out all the things I'm thinking and work out why I'm thinking them and if they are valid. The problem is that the blank depressed down feeling is very familiar and in a strange way is a 'comfort zone' and I've got to make sure I don't just stay there because it's familiar, but be willing to push out of it and try new places and new experiences and feelings, because outside and beyond that zone are lots of lovely and exciting places to explore. Hopefully I'll get somewhere.

It might seem odd to have this mixture of personal stuff, encompassing mood and health and all sorts, in amongst the more traditional preoccupations of a craft blog, but my life isn't perfect and I want to be honest about that. My life is far from perfect, it isn't a feature in a lifestyle magazine, sometimes it's raw and messy and real and sometimes it's beautiful and joyful and creative and occasionally it's a mixture of them all at once. I've all too often felt intimidated or jealous (depending on my mood) by how perfect some people's lives seem, everything sorted out, life a series of wonderful events, but I know countless others for whom life just isn't like that and I want to be a voice out here in the wilds of the Internet for life as it is. A good example of someone who has done this with her blog and made it work is Kate/Wazz from Needled.com. Her blog used to be one I looked in on occasionally and felt jealous of all the wonderful things she was able to do and the beautiful places she went and lived (this has more to do with me and where I'm at than with her blog not being good - it was and is good). But since she had a stroke earlier this year (not something I would wish on anyone!) her blog has become a must-read, her account of recovery is compelling, human, real, something I can relate to and should be required reading for all doctors and health care professionals and politicians, but it is also richly creative and alive. I don't want my life to be subsumed by fibromyalgia and ME, in a way this blog is an account of that struggle to make my life about more than a series of diagnoses, as well as a way of coping.

One thing I am trying to learn is that certain way of seeing the good things in life, however small, that most contented people seem to have, Lucy from Attic24 (another blog) often seems to embody this elusive quality. It is a quality that sees as much good as possible in every situation, that rejoices in the beauties of our world, lives in the moment and savours that moment, not constantly discontent or wishing for something more or other or constantly worrying; I am working on this and praying about it, because I think it is deeply compatible with faith in Jesus and the peace He brings (see the end of Matthew 6).

Anyhow as usual I've gone on longer than I had intended, but here's to the next hundred posts, thank you for coming along with me.

Sunflower

This sunflower grew up by itself, probably from a seed in the bird seed feeder and is just on the cusp of flowering. It's amazing watching it slowly unfurl and form.


Other than that nothing too dramatic to report. Lots of knitting, bits and pieces of crochet, some interesting reading including New Grub Street by George Gissing, which is a fascinating portrait of Victorian London life and the first emergence of the mass media and modern age.

I do wish it would stop being so grey and make up its mind, either get the rain over with or go away and let us have some sunshine!

Julie and Julia

Or is it Julia and Julie... regardless of which it is, I definitely recommend this film. I watched it last weekend and thoroughly enjoyed it. It has made me wish I had more energy to cook, but we can't have everything and I did discover that we owned a copy of Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Our copy is a slightly tatty Penguin copy from about 1963 that belonged originally to my dad and that has been sitting unobtrusively on our bookshelves for years without me taking any notice of it. I'm glad that I have because it does seem to contain some rather splendid recipes, though I regret to announce that I am not currently harbouring any plans to cook everything in it as in the film. Were I to try such a challenge with a French cookbook I think I would try Joanne Harris' The French Kitchen (would I be allowed off the fish section? I've tried to like fish and just can't). The pictures alone of this book are a delight and the recipes are clear and work well as many delicious dinners will attest. As she is married to a vegetarian there are an usual number of meat free recipes too; unusual in French cuisine.

Another book I would consider trying all the recipes from would be Elizabeth David's English Bread and Yeast Cookery, a book previously mentioned on this blog. For now my next culinary experiment could well be a foray into 'water ices', otherwise referred to as 'sorbet' or 'granita', probably using the recipe in Elizabeth David's Italian Food. She makes the whole process sound so easy as to inspire confidence and the weather has been delightfully warm this week, which is an added incentive. Modern freezers make water ices a far easier proposition than in the days of Mrs Rundell, Mrs Beeton or Hannah Glasse, when a barrel of ice with several handfuls of salt added was necessary, though I would be interested to try Mrs Rundell's recipe for brown bread ice cream.

I'm increasingly interested in old cook books, a love that started when I first found my parents facsimile edition of Mrs Beeton and now I own a small collection of old books of recipes and household management, including one from 1936 and a the Persephone books reprint of Mrs Rundell's cookbook (first published 1806). Although I am yet to get my hands on a copy of any of Eliza Acton's books or of those of Hannah Glasse's 18th Century cook books and I'm sure there are many others out there. Interestingly Hannah Glasse's 1747 work implores readers not to overcook vegetables - apparently the cry of cookery writers across the centuries.

Accordingly I read the extract of Bill Bryson's new book Home that appeared in the Guardian newspaper a couple of weeks ago with considerable interest. And thanks to my slightly odd interest in old cook books I did discover one discrepancy. He asserts that,

"...in 1845, a poet in Kent named Eliza Acton wrote Modern Cookery For Private Families. It was the first book to give exact measurements and cooking times..."

However, both Mrs Rundell's A New System of Domestic Cookery (1806) and Hannah Glasse's The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy (1747), predating Eliza Acton's work, use weights and measures and give times for cooking things. True they do not use them universally through their cook books; but where it matters, such as in baking bread or cakes, they give more exactly quantities, than in say making a soup or stew, where it matters less. Mrs Rundell's work is a little more practical for modern life than Hannah Glasse's, which stipulates such items as "new milk hot from the cow". However, I would not wish to make a cake from either, since the icing requires whisking for three hours - all I can say is that they must have had stronger arms than I do!

Watching from the side lines

Like most of the country and no doubt plenty of others around the world I've been watching the latest political developments with tremendous interest, although a twinge of sadness and regret. In a previous life I worked in politics, for more than two years, first part time then full time and I loved it, although I did decided by the end of it that being an MP wasn't for me.

However, since then I've become too ill to work full stop, let alone in a high pressure, fast moving environment like politics. Prior to the past few days I was largely ok with this, I didn't pay any particular attention to politics, just skimmed along the surface. Now I'm feeling it badly, the "if only"s have been taunting me so strongly today, especially the knowledge of where former colleagues are working and that it could have been me, I could have been there at the heart of it, rather than sitting at home watching, in between naps.

It has brought back that I still have a lot to mourn and that I need to stop living in the past. The past is far more attractive than the present and possibly the future. I am trying to remember that God is in control and that He knows our future and our lives, my life, is in His hands, that He knows His plans for me. I am trying to remember where to put my hopes and that there are more important things than politics. Still it is hard.

My only other observation is that hearing constant talk of a "referendum on AV" has been somewhat confusing at times, leaving me wondering why we would need a referendum on the KJV Bible...

Bits and bobs

I've spent the past few weeks mostly recovering from the benefits appeal, which mercifully I won. But it was a huge trauma and stress, I'm only just sleeping properly after it. It is deeply invidious that the system should be so skewed against the sick.

On a brighter note I've continued pursuing the domestic arts. It makes sense really, I'm home so much, at most I'm out two hours a day; homely things like baking bread and knitting make sense as occupations. Baking bread is tiring, but rewarding and interesting, I've been reading Elizabeth David's English Bread and Yeast Cookery, a work I highly recommend if you are at all interested in baking your own bread. In it she explores the history of bread making and all the technical details, before going on to provide comprehensive recipes that work well. Although I have only really dipped in and out of it (it is an immense work) it is an entertaining read, Elizabeth David was not just passionate about food but crucially was a superb writer. She leaves one in no doubt as to her opinions. Illustrated here is my first attempt at a Coburg loaf, which is apparently just like a cob loaf, but for the cross cut on top.

With the onset of spring my annual enthusiasm for gardening has returned and this week Dad did all the hard work and I put some spinach, baby cos lettuce and tomato seeds in some pots. The cos lettuce leaves have already sprouted and together with the baby spinach leaves should provide some interesting lunchtime salads. Our pond goes from strength to strength, being currently full of tadpoles; it resembles a bustling city, the surface of the water constantly aquiver. The fish seem remarkably unconcerned by their little companions nor by the newt who we spotted in there this week.

Knitting takes up most of my time and energy, but I would like to have a go at some sewing, hopefully this coming week I'll manage to prise myself away from the knitting needles. Overall things are very quiet, lonely at times. I've managed to get to church group a few times lately, they're a lovely group of people, all my friends are lovely people, just far too busy. I suppose it's no fault of theirs, but it does leave me on my own the vast majority of the time and I can't remember when I last met up with a friend except at church group or knitting group, which is just a bit depressing.

Still got to keep my pecker up I suppose, could be worse? Or something like that! While we're on the subject of good attitude I'd recommend reading Kate Davies' blog Needled - a lecturer in 18th century fashion and social history she recently had a stroke and her account of recovery has been amazing. Every doctor ought to read it as an account of what it feels like to have a stroke (or indeed any other sudden change of circumstance and health). She writes with humour and grace and although the word 'inspiring' can be somewhat overused in this case it is in way hyperbolic. She also makes gorgeous knits such as the famous (in the knitting world!) Owls jumper and the photography is brilliant. Over and out for now, hopefully I'll update this more frequently, who knows.

The elusive "it"

I think I've found it, or solved it, the elusive niggle that something's not quite right, that I'm out of sync with something. It is hard to quantify, explain, put into words, other than to say that praying felt like "shouting into a concrete bucket" to quote the inimitable Adrian Plass (I think), that I was somehow out of sorts, distant from God.

My answer to this "it" is as simple as the word, I realised yesterday that I keep trying to do several things at once: multitasking. Now this is fine, a useful ability, but a tiring one and not always the greatest in a relationship, not if the multitasking stops you from fully focussing on who you're trying to relate to. It's like sitting in the same room with someone, talking, but never catching their eye, never looking at them, hearing most of the words, but not bringing them fully to focus inside your mind and missing all the body language, emotion and tone. That's what I've been doing with God. I need to stop and spend some time with Him completely, not doing anything else, just being with Him.

This isn't to say there isn't some value in Brother Lawrence's ideas about being with God all the time through everything you do in the day, but it helps if at some point in that day you stop and relax and spend some time just being together. Simple though the solution seems, I doubt I'll sort this out overnight, I spent some time just listening to songs, singing along, 'worshipping', bathing in Him, revelling in who He is and what He has done. (While we're here, I know that everything we do is supposed to be worshipping Him etc. etc. and that worship can take many different forms, it's just that today that's how I was worshipping Him. There's something in music, in singing alone (or even better together) about and to our God, that is ancient and good and holy and biblical.) Anyhow, meanders aside, it was good, refreshing, I know feelings aren't everything, but it did feel good. Next time maybe we'll read the Bible together?

I've been listening to "Blue like Jazz" that my friend Nic recommended to me (I think it was her... correct me if I'm wrong), which I got from audible. It's interesting, thought provoking, needs digesting, will need to be listened to multiple times, or maybe I'll get the book and read it 'properly'. At first it felt a bit odd, drifting, just this guy's thoughts, but gradually themes have emerged and interesting ideas with them. It helped me to realise how I was dividing myself from God and not paying attention properly, not engaging with Him. That's valuable enough in itself to get from a book.

Tonight it's made me feel a bit doubtful of myself again, it doesn't take much to make me doubt myself. He's started talking about how we're not meant to be alone, which I know - all too well, and about community. How we could stop feeling lonely if we lived in community - shared places to live and lived together as a church, as people, how damaging loneliness is. He makes the solution seem so simple, get off your backside and go engage with people, talk to them, listen to them, humble yourself and be open for them. But what if you can't? What if you can't physically make it to see people? What if you can't make it to their meetings and groups? What are you supposed to do then?

Is it my fault that I'm sick and can't get out and talk to people and start creating community? Am I just not trying hard enough? Trying hard enough... those words come up so often, they make me worry so much, like things would be better if I tried harder. But really, tried harder at what? When are these words lies and when is it true? When do I need to try harder? Why? I know I need to see more people, more brothers and sisters especially. Sometimes I need to make more effort, but there's days and weeks and months where I don't have the effort to give. What then?

So I feel like a failure again and try to remind myself of grace, again.

Air on some familliar themes

First off, today has been a rather bad day for missing Amy. Had some bad dreams last night about her funeral, only not the one that actually happened, some other one, it was all very muddled and muddling. Some days I can't believe ever had a friend like Amy, a friendship that fantastic and I think "what did I ever have to moan about then, how lucky was I? To have a friend like Amy". Though to be fair to myself things were still hard, it's just she made hard times so much more bearable, enjoyable times so much more enjoyable.

Add to this ever increasing illness and debility, how many more diagnoses is it possible for one person to have??? Again to balance this out the heat this week has, for the first time ever, made me feel better, not worse. Moving is so much easier in the warm weather. Whereas any contact with cold (e.g. being near the chiller cabinets in the supermarket, my newly washed hair drying down my back etc.) causes pain. My previous plans for moving to the north of Scotland to avoid hot weather have been shelved and I'm currently mulling over plans to move somewhere hot, preferably with a non-humid heat. This is being weighed up against the fewer opportunities for knitting living in such a place would entail. Such questions, even when deeply hypothetical, are nonetheless important to consider.

Despite feeling a little better for the past few days I am still rather down about general circumstances and all the things that happen that rub my circumstances in still further. Like two of my dear friends who are getting married in a bit over a week. Predictably I'm not well enough to go (nor for that matter do I have the money but that's academic) and as the day approaches I'm feeling fairly down about it. There are loads of people I haven't seen since university who will be at the wedding so I'm not just missing my friends' big day, but a reunion with them too. That in turn reminds me how little I see of anybody and how isolated I feel and on it goes. And yes, before you ask, I am trying not to mope! I may not be succeeding too well, but I'm trying.

Story of my life that is, trying. Trying to cope, trying not to mope (rhyme unintentional), trying to trust Jesus, trying to keep in touch with people, trying to do as much as I can whilst not overdoing it etc. etc.

In other news our fish in the pond are doing well, growing nicely, eating their food with keen appetite. I've been working on a sunhat in gorgeous, gorgeous yarn - Nikkim by Vinni's Colours, bought from Purlescence It's a teals mix, just my perfect colours. Having had a good browse in Waterstones Croydon today I can vouch for the efficacy of their air conditioning, it was lovely. And I was good and didn't buy the dozen or so books I could easily have bought. I managed to wash my hair today, this counts as a major victory and achievement!

I'll finish with a verse from the Bible that I think is rather awesome:
"Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior,
who daily bears our burdens" Psalm 68.19

Over and out.