Riding the rollercoaster

I have not even managed any sock knitting for the last couple of days. (That is going to change.) Life is giving me quite a ride at the moment, and having burnt the ear of friends various all evening, I find myself continuing the saga here.

first and foremost, he is ok. That is the most important thing. Other than that, it's a bumpy ride.

The storms hit yesterday. My sister and I were together, drinking coffee, when there was a massive gust of wind and a minor explosion, or so it seemed. Bright blue flash outside the window. Loss of power. Which remained off for several hours, as the wind had brought down a tree the other side of the river, taking out the power line.

Meanwhile, we went off sick visiting, to get really good news, that the docs were going to do an angioplasty and then he would be home, likely to all be over in a few days. So I came home, no power still so we repaired to the pub for a meal, got back to assess the damage which really didn't seem all that bad. Three blown light bulbs and the computer safe.

However.......today has brought a constant stream of discoveries of the weirdest minor (I do hope) things. The bottom oven, the printer and worst of all, the washing machine are all non-functioning. In some cases it may be blown fuses, I am crossing everything I have got that that is the case. Friends help - someone is printing Pete's email messages off for us tomorrow, and washing the jimjams. BIL has taken the seized bolt and wingnut from the lavatory seat that unaccountably collapsed yesterday (oh, I forgot to mention that, didn't I - nothing to do with the storm, though!) Whatever I have done to annoy whichever deities, really, I am grovelling, truly I am.

Because irritating and frustrating as all those things are, that isn't all. I went in to visit today, to find he had been moved to another ward without anyone letting me know, which was fun, but never mind. The real bummer is that some other doctor somewhere has looked at his tests and decided that there has been some damage done to the heart muscle after all. His consultant at Halifax doesn't agree, but the other one controls the angioplasty unit, so has the upper hand. An MRI is to be done - and for that he has to wait until Tuesday.

It totally shook me - if we had had this news at the get go, that would have been one thing. But to have been given the least bad scenario, only to have it snatched away again is hard. Ah, well. We will get there.

Why am I maundering on like this? Because in a year's time, I want to look back at what I have felt and think - phew. All worked out, we are doing ok, I didn't need to worry.

And you can tell I am, I cleaned the fridge out at ten o'clock this evening.

Spinning out of time

That may seem a weirder and less relevant heading than most of mine. It reflects the state of my mind and my head, rather than any fibre activity.

I have reflected a bit about writing this as a blog entry, I don't tend to do a huge amount of "personal". More than some, less than others. But by the efforts of various people, mostly me, it is all out there anyway. And as I do blog for the way greater part for myself, well, I want to.

Some of you who might drift by know this already anyway. Whatever.

I call Pete, my husband, the DSM. Which comes from Sara Lamb once calling him a "dear, sweet man" which seemed to me to be so apposite that I clung on to it ever since. I don't really do DH, and try to keep a modicum of discretion around these parts.

Yesterday morning, the DSM woke me up unexpectedly early. He didn't feel well. He was afraid he was having a heart attack. Yeah, right. But after only a few minutes, I could see that there was something wrong, and while I still didn't believe it was that, felt my only option was to call the paramedics.

I think it was when they told him that they were putting a line into his arm that I sort of mentally whimpered "oh, shit", and next thing they were telling him that he had indeed had a heart attack.

I seemed to have got dressed at some point, and next thing, I was in the front of an ambulance with siren wailing, and surging through the unbelievably heavy morning traffic like an icebreaker through ice. That was terrifying. I still didn't feel panicstruck about Pete, I was so convinced that when we got to the hospital we would be told that the paramedics had made a mistake.

After half an hour in a cupboard set aside for relatives, a staff nurse came and told me that he had had a heart attack.

He couldn't - can't believe it either.

Well, obviously, we both can now, it is pretty much sinking in. The bleeping monitors with attendant attachments, the strange environment, all the people telling us......

Throughout it all, he has had very little even discomfort, just his left arm feeling weird. No grinding, clamping whatevers. He remained conscious and coherent throughout. (I very nearly choked when the Emergency Services person asked me first, was he conscious, and when I answered in the affirmative next asked me if he was breathing....) It is just so fortunate that he had the sense to take it seriously - half an hour later, he would have been driving to work.

He's doing ok. There remain tests to be done, and depending on the results of those, maybe procedures of a greater or lesser seriousness. We hope not, but what is needed will be done. We are shored up by the messages from friends far and near, many of whom are telling us of their nearest and dearest who have been through exactly the same, and we never suspected.

So, it happens to many, and we have been so lucky. But then, it is never going to happen to you........

So, I sit by his bed and I am knitting a sock. There won't be much more fibre work done for a while.

Finally, yarns

I have just about finished experimenting with the yarns for my next glass, based on those from "Handspun Revolution". I have some rather mixed feelings about it all, much to my surprise. The book is a bit of an "emperor's new clothes" sort of thing, as so many things are these days (grumpy old cynic!) - but.

The first one or two I tried left me considerably underwhelmed. Like this one:



Here, you spin a bit, break off the yarn, tie a knot, spin a bit.....yawn. Boring to do and not pretty to look at. Then, I tried some where you mix commercial threads alongside whilst handspinning. The first couple of attempts, not photographed here, were as above. So I got to thinking, and realised that if instead of leaving it as a singles a la book, I plyed it on itself.......



Now this I like! I could even see myself doing a largeish quantity for a project, if I had some unexciting mohair yarn to use up, or something.

Next up, I tried coils. The singles - which is pretty much just overtwisting the yarn mightily - I couldn't get to work, one because I have spent mumblemumble years managing to get rid of overtwist, but also because I think it probably only works with a fairly hefty singles anyway. Abandoned that one. Next, though, I tried the "beehive" yarn. Now, as suggested in the book, plyed with a slick silk thread, I didn't like it. So, I spun a fine merino singles instead, and lo and behold, a yarn that I think actually does have some potential.



(This is a lousy photo - well, none of them are all that hot, but I have had several goes at improving them and have failed, so - tough!)

So, I move on to the pukka coiled yarn, all prepared to hate it. First attempt with the wool singles as in the beehive, no dice. But with a silk thread, oh, good fun! I even enjoyed spinning this one - it is a bit like a boucle to do, but not as nervewracking.



I have one more that I can use, sort of made up and rather simple, but I think in the spirit of the thing and just about in yer face enough. I added firestar globs/slubs at brief intervals.



There's one more as yet to work on, if I get around to it - I've had one attempt and it didn't work, that was spinning sequins in. It is going to mean actually unstringing them and rethreading to make a successful yarn, and I don't really see that that is all that different from a beaded yarn. We shall see.

Anyway, after all it turned out reasonably good fun to do, and it will make for a good class, I think. The one remaining knotty problem is suggestions for what to do with the yarns when spun! The would couch on to things very nicely, but that is about all I have been able to come up with.

Thinking caps on.....

Music hath charms

By all the whatevers. I feel as if it is three o'clock in the morning and I am three quarters of the way down a bottle of Jamiesons, but stone cold sober with it.

In point of fact, it is one fifteen, I'm just about to go get lunch, and I have been clearing out the workroom because my current stuff was slippin' and a'slidin' all over the place. Plus I have lost some glitzy threads that I really do need (and still haven't found.)

So why?

I put on a Clancy Brothers cd, that's why. Seductive melodies that sing of loss and love, of roving far from home and nostalgia for it, of the joys of the whiskey and the carefree life. Sure, my bag was nearly packed and me half way out of the door before I remembered that I was actually meant to be emptying the Dyson's cylinder.

So, is there a journey still to be had within these now clean and organised four walls? There ain't no whisky, but that is probably a good thing!

By the way, has anyone ever seen this? I saw it so long ago that I can't remember anything about it other than that I loved it. Mind you, I was a teenager and student at the time.....

I return you &etc.

Hats and Rats

One of each.

First, the hat. Finished!



Nice to do, probably more in my future.

Then the rat. You will be relieved to learn, no photo. I was dealing with laundry yesterday, went dashing in to the porch to check the tumble dryer, and nearly fell over one very dead rat on the floor. Yes, you guessed it, one of my little darlings had left me a present. Probably Neelix, who despite the lack of fangs, can still hunt when the mood strikes.

I don't like rats particularly, but this one was actually quite....pretty? Silvery grey back, very white belly, not too scaly a tail. When I had a moment, I checked in our guide to British mammals, and wondered if it was in fact rattus rattus instead of norvegicus. So when the DSM got home, I sent him out to the dustbin, where the corpse had come to rest,with torch and tape measure. I do like to encourage his spirit of scientific inquiry. No definitive answer was forthcoming.

Anyway, I googled this morning, and seemingly, rattus rattus is practically non-existent in the UK - so must have been a youngish, not too raddled norvegicus. I'd just as soon not have any more for further investigation!

It was wildlife day chez nous yesterday. I had been standing at the bedroom window in the morning when a swooping bird caught my eye, of a raptorish nature, possibly. I was puzzled by the very pale colour, though. Anyway, a friend dropped in for coffee later, and she suddenly spotted something too, so I left her keeping a beady eye on its movements while I got the binoculars. The light was very poor, and it was partly obscured by the trees, so not easy. Kestrel would have been the most likely, as they are pretty common and I have seen them in the fields down the valley, but I actually lean towards it being a sparrowhawk. I have seen those as well, and I think both the jiz and the behaviour were more like. The earlier colour was a trick of the light.

Today, I have been living in a small swarm of long tailed tits, one of my favourite birds, that often flock up around the house in winter. What would be nice is if this could be a goldcrest year - fingers crossed!

OK, so back to fibre. I don't have a decent project on the go as yet, and probably won't until I have finished pratting around with these dam' art yarns. Which I will photograph if I get anything half-way decent. So - back to the saltmines. I have the second audio version of the "Stormbreaker" series to finish whilst I do so, so that's ok, then.

Time passes

I had this thought, or rather, series of them, this morning. Seeds, plants etc need certain conditions to flourish. One of those is light - without the right amounts and levels of daylight (as opposed to sun/shade) plants will not thrive.

It therefore seems to me to be entirely logical that animals should be likewise. Of this I am living - if you can really call it that at the moment! - proof. So are the mogs.



Glued to the bed, they are, at the moment. And I think that is a pretty good indicator that most "days" are in fact nothing of the sort, just a kind of extended night, and nightingale I am not, so I ain't singing. Or much else for that matter.

Apart from whining, that is. Slap me upside the head, someone.

There is a gratuitous cat photo as there are none of FOs, or WIPs for that matter. But - there should be soon. I have nearly finished the hat, and not only have enjoyed doing it but it is looking nice, I think. I am looking forward to getting dyeing and doing more.

Then, I have finally been working on some of this dam' "art yarn" stuff for my next class. Um. I find it extremely difficult. I like to produce yarn that is soft, or drapey, feels nice next to the skin, is wearable. Oh, and usable? The first couple of attempts failed dismally. Yarn grossly overtwisted to produce a coiled effect simply does not work for me. However, my next attempt, also a failure, gave me the idea for a variation which turned out reasonably well at the first try. If another shot works out, I will tell all.

I am quite looking forward to some multi multi coloured stuff and a few sequins. But despite the fact that some people spend serious money buying these things up on eBay, I am not intending a major career change.

Although it doesn't show, I have been away from this entry for an hour. The DSM returned damp and puffing from a run and persuaded me to start internet hunting for a short holiday somewhere where the sun do shine. Obviously, the whining is bearing fruit (or perhaps that should be the other way around?) Four days in Tunisia, maybe? Doesn't sound too bad to me. Watch this space.

And finally - why did I not have my camera in my hand this morning, when running errands in town. We watched as a young couple carefully unloaded three little "baby carriers" from the back of their vehicle, stashing them carefully in a doorway out of the rain whilst they locked up and then dad picked up one in each hand whilst mum carried the other. Teeny triplets, only a few weeks/months old (hard to tell, with my lack of experience and them no doubt being a little small for their age on account of there being the three of them.) Too sweet.

I must be getting soppy in my old age.

Hail, hail.

Blogger is so scary sometimes - it just published my new title all by itself, twice. Aargh.

Anyway.

Hail - as in I am back, hello and happy New Year to one and all.

Hail - as in the little hard balls of white stuff crashing down on my skylight window. It is chilly, dank and growing rapidly dark.

But also hail - as in the turn of the old year and the promise of the new stretching out before us, and all that lovely fibre, absorbing projects and interesting things to do, people to see, places to go. That's why I love New Year, wave farewell to the old and embrace the challenge of the new, leaving mistakes behind and welcoming the opportunities that can be encountered or made.

Or at least, that's what you can do once the hangover subsides.....

Actually, although I should, I don't have one. For once - oh! such a rare occurrence - we ventured out last night, an invitation to have dinner and to see the New Year in with friends up the river. So on went the boots and out came the torches and we picked our way carefully through the woods. It was lovely - warm, comfortable, good food and good conversation. We reluctantly turned on the television to make sure we got the time right come midnight, but were pleased that we did because the fireworks from the London Eye were spectacular even on telly.

We had only got back from Cornwall the night before. Travelling in either direction proved on balance not as bad as we had feared, surviving the total gridlock in the town on the way out, and the terrifying moment on the M5 coming back when we were suddenly completely blinded (and I really do mean that) by the wash from standing water on the carriageway). The aged rellies were by and large in very good form, although we are somewhat concerned about Auntie P, who has fallen victim to the newspaper collecting syndrome that some elderly people develop. They are piled high in every room, and there are tottering towers of them all too close to her little two bar electric fire. Thought and action are required, I fear.

So, here we have my new iPod bag, and two pairs of yak down wrist warmers as gifts for our hosts last night.



The DSM wrapped them before I was able to photograph them.

Other holiday knitting - a good start on the hat from Machine Knitting to Dye For. I bought three kits at SOAR, the hat ready dyed, and then socks and bag to dye myself. Soon, I hope. I just wish I could develop the knack of handling two yarns with one in each hand. The DSM can do it, no problem, but try as I might, I can't. I think I maybe have a slightly different grip/style of knitting from him.

Also spent some time sampling fibres from Adelaide Walker for Summer School, and did a little more of the latest spindling task , the lovely blue mix from Carolina Homespun at the SOAR market. So not too dusty.

Managed to get out a couple of times, once over Newquaywards, not our usual, but lighted on a bit we didn't know called the Gannel. Very interesting and a definite to go back to and explore further.

And of course, we went down to Hemmick.









Wild, windy and beautiful.

Good to be home, though.