Spring Greens

(It was a rabbit.)

We are in an interval - I first noticed at the weekend that there were leaf buds on the trees. Of course, the daffodils are much more obvious, but we had seen the first of those in Cornwall, and they had slowly, slowly kept on a'comin'. But now, branches are uplifting and stretching themselves, there are, as I say, buds, not to mention leaflets in some instances. And masses of primroses, yum. All so pretty, so very springlike...and yet. Yet not quite there yet, is what. I can see the first stirrings of Spring, I can smell them, too. But there are still lingering nips of chill in the air, and long moments of greyness.

It may just be me. For all their vaunted allure, I actually do autumn and winter better than I do spring and summer, the latter being either wet and dark and utterly depressing (just like winter, except that is meant to be so) or just too damn hot. As for spring - well, I don't know what the problem is - I get through winter, and then, it's a downhill slither for a while, despite the eastercard prettiness all around me. (There are even lambs around now, northern lambs, I mean, which arrive much, much later than their softy southern cousins.)

It may just be me. I had an event to get through yesterday. Now, this is totally irrational, so scoff away. I had my first eye test and examination since the cataracts last year, and I got nervous about it. No evidence, nothing at all to make me seriously think anything was wrong. I said it was irrational! I think, apart from that, it had to do with the debris from the vitreous detatchments, which have formed Olympic squads in there and do formation swimming practice day and night. When my eyes are tired, I sometimes have to draw aside the semi-veils, or at least that is what it feels like. I'm exaggerating, of course. A minor problem - but mine own.

OKOK. This is supposed to be a fibre blog. Ahem. Nothing much - merino and cashmere nearly finished, nice enough yarn, abuses up well. I'm doodling crochet with the leftovers from the shawl - I'll blog it if it works out. I put a pair of socks on to needles over the weekend, very fine yarn, I've done about two inches. Still, I like socks ongoing. But I need a new big project. Will spend some time over the weekend cogitating.

Now, here's a funny thing. The indigo dyed cotton and silk, which I think is a rather nasty yarn all told, is being knitted up by the DSM. But he is concerned that he hasn't enough time to get the scarf finished by the deadline, so I said I would work on it too. So, simple moss stitch. I did a few rows, tension appears pretty much the same. But, and a mighty big but, the resulting fabric looks totally different. Somehow, despite physically knitting in much the same way, we produce a weird difference in the end product. His moss stitch is fairly smooth, fluid and flat, mine is textured and crisper. You could feel it if you ran your fingers down.

So it got frogged.

gw