Just call me Martha

I hope you all had a safe and happy easter.

I did lots of knitting things. Went to s&b on Saturday, it was a small group because of the Easter break but that meant I could talk more! There were four of us, and we exchanged life stories. I have only been a few times so it was fascinating to find out more about the lives of the local stitch and bitchers. Two of the girls had studied medicine, one in Paris and one at Sydney uni. One is a GP and the other is a biomedical engineer with four children. One had survived cancer. Colectively we had worked in every continent in the world as well as some pretty remote outback towns. I could have listened for hours! We had a great conversation about private vs public education, the health system and so on - very highbrow!

While I was there I got a call from Donni, who was in Cooma at the Ashford woolshed looking at the spinning wheels, roving, handspun yarns and dyes, wondering if I wanted her to bring me back something. She bought me two big skeins of laceweight corriedale and a rainbow wool dye kit.

I finished the stole - blocked it and here it is!



I finished that pesky sock!



I started a scarf and hat set for Blair at 11:30pm Saturday night and she wore it the next morning


Donni dropped the Ashford booty off on Monday and I tye-dyed it Monday night


I read the papers, cooked delicious meals, played good mummy to the urchins, went out for lunch with my family, and joined a swanky gym!

I love it when a plan comes together.

kids say the darndest things

Any child psychologists reading this can kindly refrain from commenting. Any armchair Dr Phils, comment away.

The children across the road lost their grandmother. My children spend a fair amount of time playing with them so I thought I'd have a talk to them about it.

In the car coming back from somewhere or another I say something like "you must be especially kind to your friends at this time because their grandmother died. Imagine how awful you would feel if your grandmother died. That's how your friends feel, now it the time to show you're a true friend and be sympathetic to them"

Son, 6, pipes up, "Age, cancer or murder?"

Alan and I both spin heads around to back seat "WHAT???"

Louis: "How did she die? Age, cancer or murder?"

I have no idea where that came from

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I have been feeling a bit broody lately. The biological clock thing I guess. I am having pleasant thoughts about having another baby every day. My left brain hopes this will pass before I ovulate.

Anyway, I spend a lot of time with my daughter. And I talk a lot.

Me (thinking out loud): "Wouldn't it be fabulous to add a new baby to our family?"

Blair, 4, : "Yes mummy. But how would the doctor get me back in your tummy"

Cute huh?

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I have a lot of knitting stuff to post, here's a quick preview

I went to my friend Donni's house and rolled around in her yarn stash. It was as much fun as you could have without alcohol involved. She has pictures on her blog.

I started making another sock. It is turning out fine thank you very much. I am enjoying it as much as I would enjoy wrestling a giant octopus.

The lace stole is almost done and will be transformed by blocking. I hope.

I bought some new wool for the felted french market bag - stuff that will felt this time.

I took the old wool for the felted french market bag back - stuff that wasn't going to felt and exchanged it for sock yarn. Who am I kidding? I blame Donni.

I found a bargain online yarn store. No it is not knitpicks. It is called the wool peddlar and I bought some 50/50 silk/wool just like l&l but cheep cheep. I got some undyed and some handpainted.

I would like to set up an exchange where I will post chocolate biscuits and candy to anyone kind enough to send me some kool-aid for dyeing. We can't get it here in Australia and I would like to give it a go. Any takers?

I sent a book off to someone on the sp webring. Shhh.

My secret pal got her package and I suspect knows who I am. If you are snooping around here Emily I am making you that hat tonight and I wish I could come to your place for lunch on Sunday sounds yummo.

I will elaborate on these things over Easter with all that luxurious free time I have.

ADVICE TO SELF (AND POSSIBLY YOU TOO): NOW GET OFF THE NET AND GO ENJOY YOUR FAMILY!!!!

A happy, safe and peaceful Easter to you.

Felt up!

Do you remember how excited I was about the felted slipper then quickly moving on to french market bag? My confidence in being able to translate a pattern from knit to crochet without
even thinking too much about it?
How the weekend turned out:

FRIDAY NIGHT
Went to a friends house to de-stress and de-stressed about 3 bottles of wine.

SATURDAY NIGHT
My first crochet slipper was ENORMOUS before the wash. After the wash it was still enormous. but looked like a massive oven mitt for a sasquatch. Disaster 1.
duh

Decided to abandon the crochet and knit the slipper instead.

SUNDAY
After wrestling with knitting in the round for the first time, I finally finished two slippers.
These are my husbands feet in the pre-felted knitty slippers.


I was so excited! Even thought they were a bit rough, I thought the felting would sort them out. Ha.


LATE SUNDAY NIGHT
You can take this felting business and shove it where the sun don't shine.
Washable wool doesn't felt. I knew that. But I didn't know I had knit half of one slipper with washable wool did I?
 


LATER SUNDAY NIGHT
The other one fared a little better in the felting wash. But, I can't take a picture of it because it is shore urrrgly and will probably break the camera.

EVEN LATER SUNDAY NIGHT
I checked the labels on the great violet, lime and turquose yarn I bought for the french market bag. You guessed it - machine washable. Anybody want it?

I felt (knitting pun, ha ha) like a failure. And this sock thing was supposed to cheer me up.

So that's why I say to all you skilled sock knitters - FELT UP!

EARLY MONDAY MORNING
To regain some lost self-esteem I got old faithful out of the wip cupboard. The photo does nothing for the colour (it is a really nice lilac) but does show the pattern. It is a lace stole and I am looking forward to finishing this and blocking it. I felt better doing this - even if it was 1:00am in the morning. At least this scarf is not a disaster (yet) 

First the clap now sock fever

I have never been interested in the sock. Never. If I came upon sock yarn, I would make a shawl with it. But something happened to me this week, I think it may be sock fever.

I think this is what caused it:

STRESSFUL WEEK
My son has had some problems at school (he was bullied) and I have been beside myself with worry. Consumed.

Anyway I wanted to make my boy a present because he's special. He wanted me to make him a present, because I think he's just copped on that almost everything I knit is pink and either gets given to his sister or some other dumb girl.

THE WEATHER
And then there was the weather. Summer breathed her last breath on us and even though it looks clear and sunny, there's a chill. My thoughts turned to the snuggly things - the fireplace, cocoa, you know that sort of stuff.

KNIT BLOGS
They make hours vanish. And they're all about socks.

I know, felted slippers! I had to make them. Immediately. (Forget cupboard full of WIP). I sought knitty's advice. I cast on, and realised I don't know what dpn's are, I don't know how to join knitting so it's in the round, I have no idea what a short row is. I am an idiot. So, I sort of re-jigged the pattern for crochet instead. I am 1/3 through the biggest sock I have ever seen. It is hilarious. I don't know if it is going to turn out. I didn't swatch.


So, like a woman possessed, I ducked out at lunch from the office and bought some wool. And there's dpns in there too. This is going to be the felted French Market Bag. Apparently it teaches you some sock basics.  

the good, the bad and the really really ugly

The good:
Jacqueline posted this. I found myself singing this while I was walking around the supermarket this afternoon. Love it!

The bad:
I was looking at some blogs I read often, I happenedpon this man's really stupid nasty email. I wonder what Dr Phil would make of this tool? I wonder whether he feels his actions amount to improper use of corporate email?

The really really ugly
I hit the 'next blog' button on bloggerbot. What a mistake that was! I got a really nasty site, the contents of which I shall not repeat but it was very disturbing. It almost put me off blogging altogether actually. Yuk yuk yuk.

Where are all the good people gone??? Kenya I suspect!

I also got tagged for the music thing by wonderful Donni, my S&B organiser. If I can work out what on earth it's talking about I will put it up on the page.

Clapotis pictures

I have finally posted some pictues of my Clapotis. I am really happy with it, and like everyone says it can be worn in so many ways. The hat thing is clearly a bit of a joke. It worked up well in the Clepoatra but is a bit heavy. I found my edges were a bit dodgy, so I crocheted a crab stitch around the whole thing to hide the sloppy edge that used to be there. It saved me doing any weaving in of the ends too, as I hid them as I went.

And it's true. Now that I have finished one I want to start another. This time I'm going to use the Lorna's Laces yarn as instructed.

I am going to ask a question here. Does anyone know why one edge of my knitting is looser than the other??

claphat 

clap3 

clap2 

clap1 

"we're playing robbers"

Yesterday my son had a friend over after school. They came into the kitchen where I was, my two and the visitor, armed with plastic swords and pillowcases over their shoulders, like little puss in boots'. "give me all your money" says my son. "I don't have any money" I say, "but I do have some jewels. Here you go." I toss my chandalier earrings into his pillowcase. "Thanks lady" he says and off they go upstairs to his room.

After a while I notice it's pretty quiet up there. That's never a good sign. I hope they haven't escaped over the road to the neighbours place. I venture up the stairs. "Quick, she's coming" I hear. Three pairs of wide eyes gaze at me innocently when I get to the top of the stairs. Angelic. And this is what I find when I try to enter my son's room. Every folded sheet, every pillow case, every teddy bear, the contents of the laundry basket (I could go on). The loot.



There are no words.

Why Clapotis is like reading the Da Vinci Code

Knitting Clapotis was a lot like reading the Da Vinci Code. Here's why:

1. There's some impressive mathematics in there somewhere but if you don't understand it it has no effect on you being able to finish it.
2. There's plenty of heresy (dropping stitches is knit heresy whilst the DaVinci Code is full of religious heresy).
3. After a drab start, there's a really long predictable bit in the middle that goes on and on.
4. Suddenly it starts moving very fast (when you're dropping at both ends) and for a frightening moment you think it's not going to meet up in the middle properly.
5. At the end, all loose ends are conveniently tidied up or hidden.
6. It's long.
7. It looks heavier than it is.
8. A lot of people have finished it at least once.
9. Once you get into it, it's hard to put down.


The only difference to me is that I enjoyed Clapotis more than the Da Vinci Code.

As you can probably guess, I finished the Clapotis. That's why I haven't been writing very much this week. I am 'blocking' it (sort of) at the moment. The pictures are on their way soon.

Now I am at a bit of a loose end, I don't have any projects in mind to start, and I am not ready to face that WIP cupboard just yet. So I think I'll just go blog-surfing. Bye for now.

Is it too boring to blog about the weather?

There is a change in the air. The winds are coming up a little chillier in the evenings. The hot north-easterlies have dissipated. Everything is a little crisper, a little clearer.

Quite the opposite of most of the bloggers I read! Oh how jealous I am of the picturesque snowscapes you all have out of your windows. So, I am posting a blog today about the weather here on the East Coast of Australia, as Clapotis is still not finished and I refuse to start anything else until she is done.

This time of year always makes me wish I had somehow gotten more 'summer' out of my 'summer'. It was with this in mind that I got myself out of bed early this Sunday morning, and took myself here, just to milk that last bit of summer out of summer. .
I even had a swim, so I wouldn't feel 'beach ripoff' when I got home.

My son goes to Surf Club every Sunday morning. It is his first year at what they call nippers. The Surf Clubs are a national body, run mainly by volunteers whose aim is to improve and encourage surf safety and lifesaving skills in the community. The clubs also compete in surf club events such as board racing, run-swim-runs, sand sprints, surf runs and rescue-resuscitation as well as the Iron Man challenges. As the kids get older, they patrol the beaches at weekends and public holidays in teams. But right now, Little Louis just does it for the fun. Here's a shot of father and son doing their Sunday thing.
.

And last but not least, I found the phone. Hanging up in my wardrobe, of course.

Too bad I already bought another one as we had been looking for it for five days. Somewhere in this house a poltergeist is laughing his ass off, because I certainly don't remember putting the bloody thing there!

Clapotis is coming along. I have done nine repeats of the centre section but I don't have any pictures to add right now as everyone has seen Clapotis at all stages of finished. When she's done, I'll show you.

I subscribed to Interweave Knits today, and can't wait for the spring edition to arrive. I am SO making the shrug on the cover!!!!!

first culinary disaster 2005

We had a bbq on Sunday for the estate agent and his wife. My darling felt it obligatory to invite them over because he just sold our other house for us. I would have thought the 12 grand cash we gave him in commission would have been sufficient but Alan insisted he and his wife come over with their three young sons for a swim and a barbie. I agreed because: a) I never pass up an opportunity to have a wine b) I never pass up an opportunity to have a wine.

We also invited my favourite drinking buddy Ronelle, her husband and kids. I am blessed that my favourite drinking buddy from my teens lives 5 minutes from me now and we both have a six year old boy and a four year old girl. I lived overseas for all my twenties, how I got to be living like a Stepford Wife is another story. I might point out now that the estate agent is not a total stranger to us. I have been acquainted with him and his wife for many years, back in the days when we were young and free and single. But I digress from the culinary disaster at hand.

You might be suprised to hear that the first thing we do when everyone arrives is settle the 7 kids in, show them around and encourage them to sit in front of the playstation. How very un PC of us. The adults then all go outside and hide from them. Some hours pass, the kids have a swim, conversation is flowing happily, it is decided to get the food on. I have earlier prepared a potato bake which is waiting in the oven. I turn the oven on, check the kids all have drinks and are dry and warm and happy and then go back outside to get back to business.

Some 30 minutes later, my son comes out and says something like 'something's wrong in there dad', dad goes in and can't cope, finds me and then I go in to find the cream in the potato bake has boiled and overflowed onto the bottom of the oven and the ENTIRE house is full of smoke. Now this house has five living rooms, four bedrooms, three bathrooms and a wine cellar (gotta have one of those) - the WHOLE PLACE is full of smoke. Some way to find out the smoke alarms don't work huh! Anyway, I run around like a desperate housewife, putting on all ceiling fans, bathroom fans, airconditioners and rangehood. I encourage the children to go outside. Some 30 minutes later the smoke is somewhat cleared. None of the other adults have any idea what has transpired.

Afraid to open the oven I leave it till last to finally peek in. Potato bake is not only completely safe, but is not even burnt. The smoke is coming from the spillage on the bottom of the oven. In fact, the smoke has given the potato bake a depth and character not seen before from the kitchen of Daly. I recieve compliments on the quality of my potato bake!

Obviously the other grown-ups had all been drinking because no-one noticed any smokiness at dinner (we came inside because it was a bit cool after dark). When the dinner red and the port and coffee were all gone, and guests gone home (designated drivers of course), showered kids tucked up in bed, I summon the courage to look again in the oven. Sheesh. I don't know how I'm going to clean that up. I shut it again and climb up to bed, knowing that this chore (among many, including finishing the bloody clapotis) will still be there in the morning.

So now you know why I always feel like I'm snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.

PS: Three days later. I have dismantled the oven and cleaned all internal parts. The cupboard above the oven may never recover, I had to throw the breakfast cereal away. Every now and again I am overcome by a waft of smoke smell and I suspect it is the carpet and the blinds.

And guess what?? I have decided to re-decorate our bedroom. I am going to paint, make a headboard, side-tables, a mosaic mirror and curtains myself and install a chandelier.

Farewell my darlings, I'm off to look at paint swatches. Wish me luck!
xxx