I've been busy crocheting. For those who don't know I'll just explain that until a year ago, anything that came under the term needlecraft sent me scurrying in the opposite direction. For a start I've got fumbling thick fingers on large hands that I'm sure have expanded due to years of holding reins and shoveling muck from stables and barns. Not only that, said fingers and hands are now arthritic and don't always obey my orders. So it's really something that I picked up a crochet hook in the first place, and then proceeded to learn from the internet how to twist that, pull that through, wrap that round and repeat often enough to end up with something resembling a coaster for a mug. Truly, it's really something!!
But stuck in bed with fibro I had to do something and I really do like learning new things, hence the start of crochet. I've made fingerless gloves, hats, wrist warmers and other small items to wear. But I get bored so I've never started a larger project, besides I discovered freeform scrumbles and that was it, never really wanted to do anything more than create those. Until I saw a gorgeous crocheted jacket. I mean it was gorgeously gorgeous and probably would cost not only an arm and leg but a head too if it was for sale in some shop. And good goddess! My word! It was made from crocheted granny squares! Well I never! (Yep, you're right, I was shocked). Granny squares that I've done before, I can do those. If I can do those I must be able to make my own gorgeously gorgeous jacket. Right?!
So it began, the whirlwind of fingers twisting, turning, tumbling, thrashing out squares a mile a minute....... No it didn't. That's how I envisioned myself crocheting this jacket, in reality , harsh as it is, I'm managing three a day and that's good for me. I've got the two front panels , now need the back and sleeves. Then put it all together, so come May I'll be sweating in my self made heavy Woolie.
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Such fabulous weather we've had this week! Tuesday night was given over to thunder and lightening, lightening that lights up dazzling white sheets. There's a name for it but I can't remember. Course,I don't hear the thunder but I do know when it's going on, the whole atmosphere changes doesn't it, but also I can feel it growling in my bones. Not so silly as it sounds, it's all to do with vibration I'm told and that's why I can feel loud noises in my bones. So I'm told. Anyway, that storm on Tuesday was awesome (I'm told that word is so dated I shouldn't use it but do I care?). Tuesday day saw our local area invaded by the hurling, hurting, hurtling {grin} icy white kibbles from the sky and whichever deity was throwing them should be ashamed of themselves, waiting till I trundled out of co-op with my loo rolls under arm before they let fly. I slipped, did a one legged slide that Torvill would be proud of, but managed to keep bum from hitting pavement by grabbing shop window ledge. (So that's what they're there for. I always wondered the use of window ledges!). Considering I had a hole in my woolly tights in a VIP place I can only hope my leg didn't spread too wide. The good people of Holsy don't deserve such punishment.
The remainder of the day and the next day were spent ouching more than usual, the result of my dancing on ice.
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More wonders of the week.....
Zaffi on his venture outside to toilet nearly got blown away. Literally. Not at all good for a little man with his pelvis fractured in two places. The vet did tell us to keep him mobile every so often for toilet etc but never said anything about flying. He learnt from it and has been keeping to the area near the back door where it's sheltered from the wind. He's a clever 'un.
There's been so much rain the garden can't absorb any more and has turned into a forlorn, woeful area. Wonderful to think in a few months it'll be all green with new leaves where plants have survived to bloom once again. The Great Mother's gifts, how I love them.
When I was young, taking the veil only meant one thing - you were going to be a nun.
I went to the village school, which was C of E and invisibly joined to the church over the road by some strong pulley that brought the vicar thrice a day to school. In fact after morning prayers he'd have his breakfast at school, after lunch prayers he'd join in with a hearty lunch. I know after home time prayers, when all us kids had gone, he'd sit with the two school teachers and partake of tea. So school must have been like a cafe for him I suppose. He was a large, big bellied, black robed, dog collared, bachelor who lived in a house made for a family with a dozen children. Such a waste!
I remember the vicar asking me and my friend if we would be taking the veil when we left school, then before I could reply he glared at me and announced " You,of course won't be, because you're the one with the devil on your shoulder. Aren't you! "
He'd told me this before at school and on that occasion made me crawl on my knees for most of the afternoon. My sin? On being asked where mankind came from I said from the earth. I was six years old. Religious people have always caused trouble in this world of mine.
