Avoid direct sunlight

Warning: this post may contain traces of self pity

So after a couple of years of recurring skin infections, over the details of which we shall draw a delicate veil, I have been put on a three month long course of antibiotics to see if we can clear up the problem. As usual the leaflet accompanying these pills is thoroughly terrifying, though comfortingly death isn't listed as a side effect, which I have seen before, so that's a start. However, aside from the stern instruction to drink a full glass of water when taking this pill (why? is it that bad for the insides? And what exactly is a glass of water - how big?), the instruction that has thrown me the most is "Avoid direct sunlight".

This is written on the pharmacist's label on the box and repeated inside and given it is now May and that the three months will then take in June and July, dismays me considerably. You see, until a couple of years ago any sort of warm weather would leave me limper than last week's lettuce, trying not to move and seeking out coolness where soever it could be found. However, bizarrely at the start of the winter a couple of years ago I suddenly discovered that I could not get warm, a problem that has continued subsequently, to the point where the woolly sock and fingerless glove season now stretches from September to May, with the summer months only offering temporary respite. Great news for opportunities to knit, but not so good for pain levels or comfort.

Conversely now I find that not only can I tolerate really quite warm weather, I even enjoy it, soaking up sunlight and warmth like a salamander or lizard, loving the feeling of relaxed comfort it brings to my muscles and joints after the painful cold of the winter. I have loved the sunlight of the last month, sitting out when I can and letting the heat soak into me, while being careful to avoid sunburn and skin damage. Sunlight has become one of the simple pleasures of my life, even in winter when I enjoy it streaming onto the sofa in the bay window.

Now it seems that this pleasure too is gone and I have to admit to feeling sad. In fact I have felt sad all day, ever since reading this pronouncement, even the purchase of a new covering up linen/cotton blend cardigan from Boden in an eye-wateringly bright turquoise has done little to alleviate my sadness. Yes, this is self pity: I admit it. However, it is also yet another adjustment to new conditions, yet another loss to mourn, albeit hopefully only temporarily. There are things I can do to ameliorate this situation - linen long sleeved tops, high factor sun cream, discovering what exactly avoiding direct sunlight means, shady hats, pretending I am a high status ancient Greek lady using my paleness to advertise my wealth and freedom from having to perform outdoor work in the sun. (I was scraping the barrel rather with that last one I know). But it will reduce the amount of time I can spend in the garden, a much needed haven, since sitting in the direct sun has been the only way to stay warm enough while sitting outside; in the shade certainly so far this year I have often felt too cold. It feels at this moment like the one time of the year when each day is not just about staying warm and trying to get through the day, the time of year when I have a slight chance of living a little, has been taken away too and I'm left with nothing to make up for the misery of winter. Melodramatic maybe, but it's how it feels.

So I will try to adjust and hope and pray that I escape the side effects of this medication and that it works to solve the problem in hand. I will try to remember that in the context of the suffering going on all over the world at this moment this is nothing. And of course I shall seek Jesus, who is as good, patient and kind as when I got up this morning, who has not changed and who ultimately offers true hope that things will get better, sometime.

May flowers

The first thing I saw this morning when I edged my curtains apart - the curtain rail is somewhat stiff so the usual "flung" would be utterly inaccurate - was that more roses had come out on the bushes in the garden. As I had been admiring the buds last night I simply had to go and take a look and inspired by my good friend Beckie's garden photos I took a camera with me. So here we have a few gratuitous pictures of flowers. But who can have too many flowers?
There are more on my flickr page.

Day seven (extremely belatedly) - your knitting and crochet time

Sorry for the delay in this post, still better late than never? I wasn't quite feeling up to blogging.

I do have an extraordinary amount of time available for knitting and crochet, although often very little energy - mental and physical - for it, which means that my actual output is not a great deal higher than many prolific 'well' knitters out there. Most of my knitting and crochet time is spent at my desk, where I have a big comfy chair, ravelry open on the computer, something from radio iplayer such as comedy from "BBC Radio 4 extra" (the artist formerly known as BBC Radio 7) to listen to, a glass of cordial to my left and vital items such as tape measure, scissors, pencil and tapestry needle close on hand. My desk, due to a mixture of exhaustion and "creative working practices", is much, much too messy to photograph. You may think you know untidy, but I tell you, you would be genuinely shocked.

My second modus operandi is knitting on the sofa in the sunny bay window of the living room, with or without the television or a DVD to watch. This bay window catches the sun brilliantly and is a delightful spot on a sunny day - had we a cat this would be where you would find him or her - instead I bask alone. There are a variety of flowering plants here, including my beloved poinsettia, a nice big cushion to lean against, a blanket for colder weather and the vital kit of tape measure, scissors, pencil and tapestry needle on hand.

Since the weather started to improve I have begun taking my knitting

and crochet out to the garden, to bask in the sunshine, without the hot house effect of all that glass, and enjoy the relative tranquillity. I say relative since our proximity to the centre of town and in particular the police station can make it a little loud at times, but it's mainly a low hum in the background and happily drowned out in birdsong. Outside, without the distractions of the computer, or downstairs on the sofa, I do tend to get more done, than at my desk. In particular I will often take a dull bit of knitting, or one which does not seem to be getting anywhere, downstairs with me, to get it done while occupied with a good film.

Likewise I often use meeting up with people, either at knitting group or just out and about in general as an opportunity to get simple garter or stocking stitch done, enjoying the process with my hands while my brain is occupied socially. Indeed I have found it folly to take anything more complicated with me to knitting group, as it inevitably leads to disaster. As women have done through history I keep my knitting with me most of the time to fill in those little gaps in the day - while the food is cooking, in the doctors' waiting room, on the train etc. - which would otherwise be idle and dull. The sheer portability of knitting and crochet is a major factor in my adherence to these crafts rather than others involving more setting up and preparation.

My knitting and crochet time is of infinite value in my life, it gives me interests beyond the bounds of myself and my illness to think about and an occupation, something that gives me something to do while consuming little energy. Through knitting even the worst day can have its achievements, however small, I can learn new skills, meet new people and gain a sense of purpose. It is something positive to think about and means that the days are not entirely empty, there are small goals to achieve, the turning of a heel, another inch on a jumper, another granny square. The very act of knitting or crocheting is positive, distracting me from pain, calming me, cheering me, distracting my mind from dismal depression.

Thank you to the wonderful Eskimimi for organising this week (or several weeks in my case) of blogging, it's really great, has been wonderful seeing the knitting and crocheting world from so many different perspectives and coming across new blogs. It has also been a great incentive to blog more: hopefully I will keep this up.

Day six (belatedly) - Something to aspire to

The main area of skill I aspire to improve is designing. As has already been seen here I've done a little dabbling into design, but not yet taken it as far as I would like: I have not yet tried a full garment design for example. I have to admit that I never dreamed that I would ever have designed and written the pattern for an item of knitwear, though at one time I did not see that knitting itself was something I would ever do, so times change.

The principal thing that gets in the way of this designing aspiration is the sheer quantity of brilliant designs by other people that I want to knit up, my mental queue is forever extending and I have projects and projects clamouring to be made. Rather than learn from books, straight or "dry", I have learned most of what I know about knitting from knitting other people's designs, looking at how they have achieved different effects and soaking up the technical information that way over the whole of the time I have been knitting. Although all this said, often the act of designing has come out of not being able to find a pattern that exactly meets what I want to make and needing to fill this gap.

Perhaps bizarrely I love writing up patterns and the act of communicating in such a way that my idea can be understood and used by others. Working out how best to convey the combination of creative ideas with the technical information needed is a process I find very deeply satisfying. Even if it involves having to admit that my maths teacher was right - maths can be useful!

So this coming year I aspire to design more, I am still fascinated by colour-work but also more generally by the traditional styles and techniques of knitting, particularly as practised in this country in the past and using these ideas and taking them into the present and the future, re-casting them. At least my training as a historian is not going to waste, just being used in a very different way than I would ever have envisaged.

2KCBWDAY6

I know that technically Knitting and Crochet Blogging Week ended yesterday, but I got rather behind over the weekend, life sometimes overtakes even the best of intentions.

Day five - And now for something completely different

Only I'm afraid there's nothing that different happening here folks. I lack the energy to work out something vastly different and imaginative. Instead I'm going to say thank you.

Thank you to Jess and Casey Forbes, the imaginative geniuses behind ravelry.com, a website I believe I mention very occasionally on here. Their site has enriched my life in so many ways, in bringing me friends, knowledge, support, inspiration, joy and even laughter. Anybody who thinks up giving everyone's avatar a little hat (or other piece of headgear) for April Fools' Day richly deserves the title of genius. Today ravelry has been peppered with shining toppers, William Tellesque apples, witches, wizards, crowns, cowboy hats, halos and many more, even some penguins.

I myself had a bright parrot perching upon my head for the day, which cheered me up no end, the whole thing did. Thank you Casey and Jess for helping me to laugh on a day when I woke up feeling awful and thought it was just another of those days, thank you for turning it around. Thank you for your creativity, hard work and humour.

2KCBWDAY5

Day four - Where are they now?

Where are they now? – 2KCBWDAY4

Whatever happened to your __________?

Write about the fate of a past knitting project. Whether it be something that you crocheted or knitted for yourself or to give to another person. An item that lives with you or something which you sent off to charity.

A long time ago now I made my first attempt at socks, a veil is best drawn over that first attempt, so awful were the results of that first pair. Unwearable is probably the kindest term for them. Nonetheless it seems I am not easily deterred and this pair was slowly joined by two further pairs of socks, one a bit big, the next finally just right, as Goldilocks would put it. The stage was set for my first foray into patterned socks.

For these socks I chose some Colinette Jitterbug I had obtained in a yarn swap (or in my case yarn buy) we had held at knitting group, in the eye-wateringly bright colourway of "Mardi Gras" and the pattern Broadripple from knitty.com. How I love those socks, the combination of yarn and pattern is just right, in my opinion at least, the yarn is soft and smooshy underfoot, snuggly and warm to wear and wear them I have. They were for a long time my favourite socks, until my first pair of Monkey socks came along (on that front let's just say there's a reason it's the most popular sock pattern on ravelry). The sight of them peeking out of the "window" in my Mary-Janes never fails to cheer me up and I save them for days when it is especially cold.

My main gripe with the yarn was that they have never ceased bleeding colour when washed, even after two years, only cold water and attempts at fixing the colour with vinegar that made the whole house smell like a chippy. For merino socks knit not at a particularly tight gauge they have worn astonishingly well. Until a week or so ago, when to my horror I noticed a hole in the heel. I was devastated. They yet await mending, which will be a difficult task given how thin the fabric has worn across the whole of the heel. I was aware that they were reaching old age in sock years, which come round considerably faster even than dog years, and had been reserving them for days when I would not be walking in them except around the house, but alas in the end Time's winged chariot has proved too much for them.

I am sadly aware that we may not have that much time left together, we shall have to make the most of it once I have succeeded, with the help of a reprint of a wartime "make do and mend" pamphlet, to darn my beloved socks. They say your first love is always the most special: I shall never forget my Jitterbug Broadripples.

Day three - Tidy mind, tidy stitches

Anyone who knows me very well, certainly my family, would laugh uproariously at the idea of my knitting being organised. Indeed were it not for ravelry my knitting would be in a state of unworkable anarchy. It is bad enough that my yarn is stored all over the place, from individual skeins in among books on the bookshelves, to piles of knitting books in unsteady piles on the floor, taking in bags and boxes of yarn stored all over the place, myriad pieces of paper and a needle roll that has *never* been closed.

I make some attempts to be organised - my projects page on ravelry is organised carefully, because I enjoy organising it and it requires no more physical energy than that of manipulating a mouse and doing a little light typing. Where I fall down is on needing to put things away or find them places to live in the first place. I was never good at it in the first place; now I'm just too tired to have any energy to expend in tidying and sorting. Some attempts have been made: broadly speaking my knitting needles reside either in the top drawer to my right in my desk, in the aforementioned needle roll (kindly made for me by a friend) and double pointed needles (mostly) in a mug. Likewise some of my yarn is organised into clear resealable bags, a few of which are even labelled with what should be in them.

My rough and ready system, if it can be graced with such a term, does work most of the time - I have an idea of where most things are. However, there has been the odd incident, such as selling someone a ball of yarn via destash, then realising I didn't have a *clue* where it was (fear not gentle listener, it was recovered after an exhausting search), which has made me wish I were more organised.

It would be good, if potentially scary, to have all my stash on ravelry, so that I know what I have and so that I can use more of it instead of buying more yarn. I would like the physical storage of the yarn to improve too, such as it all making it into bags and once catalogued finding a place in my big cupboard. It would be fairly pointless to wish that the books could get their own places to live, I suspect that my books:bookshelf ratio is never going to be quite balanced: I'm just one of those people.

Another problem I face is that my living arrangements are far from ideal; my belongings have to try to squeeze into one room, which by your mid-20s can be tricky. This room is not endowed with very good storage, my mother came up with the design of the cupboard and it is unworkable, hard to access, too deep and only really designed to hold those large unlovely plastic crates. I find it impossible to find anything in large plastic crates and too hard to get things in and out of them when I'm exhausted and sore. If I ever (please dear Lord, please!) get my own place I would design the storage with far more care and ingenuity, to enable everything to have its place, with the things I use most often easily accessible. Then all I'd need is some will power to put things back where they belong. Hmm only one small flaw in that cunning plan then.

Anyhow, my thoughts on organisation, not the cheeriest I'm afraid. But thank you Casey and Jess for ravelry - without you my knitting would be lost!

2KCBWDAY3