I liked Mr ChemDry – he seemed to know his subject, and was tall and good looking into the bargain. Next, he said, someone will come and strip the paper off the ceiling, so that the plaster can dry. And an electrician will take down the central rose and see how things are in there. We haven’t dared turn it on, except briefly by mistake on the evening of the disaster. It sizzled in a most unsettling way.
He confirmed Alexander’s gloom about the possibility of a subsequent fall. And seemed to be saying that, although there are various indicators as to whether the plaster is safe, in the end it comes down to expert opinion, and experts will differ.
I did better with skein-winding last night. The Shibui skeins are labelled 25 gram and in fact weigh in at 26. Last night I achieved 8-9-9 with my three balls. One more to do.
I am most gratified (comments yesterday) to learn that others have had trouble understanding the Gibson-Roberts heel. If we take it slowly, maybe we can work it out. I am determined to try.
Look what Fleegle’s done. I am as profoundly anti-bead (actually, I’ve never tried) as I am anti-bobble. I could never do that. But I am breathless with admiration. And one can easily imagine that the weight of the beads makes it drape wonderfully, as she says.
Here’s an impossible assignment for you. When we last had a downpour from upstairs – minor, compared to this one – it was during the brief lifetime of their son Alexander, as I said here recently. I resolved to knit something for their next child, if there was one. In the event, I didn’t even know one was expected. (Her name is
Now, the question is, what was I going to knit? It involved several colours, came as a kit I think, was distinctly expensive. A jacket, I think. Does the word “Angel” come into it? Kauni? I mentioned it here, but can’t think how to begin looking. Find the date of that flood, and work outwards from there, perhaps. I took photographs, and they will be dated – but where are they? I can’t even remember what season of the year it was.
A BSJ in Kauni Effekt would do the trick – but it’s not what I said back then.
Sarah, I found your father in the ’51 and ’52 Oberlin yearbooks. I don’t remember him, but we must often have cycled past each other. It is always slightly unsettling to look at those pages. There are the ‘50’s, preserved in amber, still fresh. Not recreated by people who weren't there, as in Mad Men, but actually happening.