Stashhaus, there has been lots of criticism of BBC coverage of the flotilla. I gather the wretched Mr Murdoch did better. And in particular, as you say, we needed to hear more about the little boats. Was anyone there who had taken part in the
rescue? If not,
there was surely a son or daughter. We saw some Venetian gondoliers, and some
Maori canoeists – but there must have been lots of other significant boats. It
wasn’t a random collection of anything that floated. Dunkirk
The boat with the bells was a splendid idea. Full marks to the English Theo LeCompte who came up with it.
I’ve started the second Strong-Fleegle heel.
I am beginning to feel thoroughly overwhelmed, in a happy and excited sort of way, about how much there is to explore in sock-knitting (as in sock yarns). I haven't even started thinking about toes. Is the
sock the same as
the Strick? How do they compare with the provisional-cast-on short-row toe-ups
in The Sock Knitter’s Handbook and the Gibson-Roberts pattern in Sock Knitting
Master Class? I haven’t the patience to read knitting patterns and think things
through in the abstract, but once I have knit one such sock, I think I will be
able to grasp how others differ. Sherman
And I can’t – or won’t – do that until I have nailed the Turkish cast-on and then Judy’s magic one.
Dawn, I have added Wendy Johnson’s short-row toe to the list in my electronic Filofax. Never heard of it. How does it fit in with the ones mentioned above? I have despaired of the crochet-chain provisional cast-on, until I can at last get to a knitting jamboree (Knit Nation 2013?) and have it demonstrated by a human being, but there are work-arounds for that.
My sister sent me a link yesterday (I've lost it, I'm afraid) to a Financial Times columnist who discovered upholstery-making after falling through a mesh chair and who says that the secret of life is not to find oneself but to lose oneself in work. With which I would agree. The work has to be autonomous, she concludes – you’re your own boss; has to offer mastery – something you can get progressively better at; and purpose – a result.
So knitting should qualify. I feel that it doesn’t, entirely, because it’s so easy, so pickable-up and put-downable. It can soothe an anxious hour or speed a tedious one and provide a sense of doing-something in the weary hours at the end of the day. But it doesn’t exhaust (thank goodness). One can’t – I can’t – “stay focussed for hours” on it.
Whereas gardening, at which my sister excels, ought to fit the bill. I would locate perfect happiness somewhere in the garden (after human relationships, anyway). But she says not – too many failures, too many weeds, too many mosquitoes.
Are we all going to have to take up upholstery?