A lovely surprise...

In my profile I think I list reading as my first hobby. I am a prolific reader, and my house is bursting at the seams with books (okay so I exaggerate, but you know what I mean). I'm a fairly tidy person: lots of clutter everywhere becomes "visual noise" to me and I start to feel faintly uneasy. Despite my parents calling me "The Minimalist" behind my back, I don't like that look. My home needs to be cosy and comfortable but not cluttered or "noisy".

I have one of those spare bedrooms that has multiple personality disorder. For such a small room it serves several purposes. It is where I have a squishy sofa so that I can read away from the TV. It has a big desk so that I can work from home when I need to. It houses most of my stash and also my cross stitch patterns (I don't do much cross stitch any more: I love the process of cross-stitching, but I don't want to hang it on my walls... What do you do with it when you've finished stitching anyway?). It also houses the majority of my books. There are way too many books on my bookshelf, ... and on the floor in my bedroom, and in all the bathrooms, on my dining table, the side tables in the living room, and, and, and...

In a fit of "Minimalist" tidying up, I decided to throw out a few books, well quite a lot actually. I know that I should "release them into the wild" ala BookCrossing, but to be honest it was too many and I wanted them gone, now. So there I was, sat on the floor deciding which of my university textbooks that have sat there untouched for more than twenty years to get rid of when I come across...

"The Celtic Collection" by none other than Alice Starmore, published in 1992!

I have absolutely no recollection of buying this book, and none of anyone giving or lending it to me either... If I truly bought it in 1992, I can't imagine what I was thinking at the time since although I could do cables back then, there is no way on God's Green Earth that I could have done the pattern that I suspect caught my eye. Even now I would hesitate to try knitting it. I thought about selling it on eBay for a nanosecond as so many of her books are difficult to find, but then I came to my senses. Who's to say that I won't develop the skill to knit Cromarty one day? Truth be told, I love her Dunadd wrap, and if it wasn't prohibitively expensive, I'd probably be knitting that instead.

Photography

Have you ever allowed your dislike of a person spur you on to do something that you've always wanted to do? Does admitting it make me a bad person?

I truly, truly dislike having my photo taken. This intense aversion to being in front of the camera stems from a traumatic experience with a HIDEOUS school photo when I was a vulnerable 13/14 year old (I can't remember what age exactly). What I do remember is that I used wear the kind of coke-bottle-bottomed, super thick-lensed glasses that only appear in cartoons, and that they were always smeared by my grubby finger marks. I remember that on the day we were due to have photos taken I'd gone to some considerbale length to have an indescribably elaborate hairstyle (I'm shuddering just thinking about it now). I had also just started my teenaged career of rampant oily skin mixed with pimples and blackheads. Yeah, I was looking good (not)... Well, the poor photographer tried, he really did. "Tilt your head up a bit... drop your chin slightly... up slightly... turn away slightly..." This went on and on for what seemed like thirty minutes. In the end, he gave up and just took the shot...

Three weeks later as the teacher was handing out the photographs, she said loudly "the photographer got a beautiful shot of you ..." . Thinking that "he sure as hell took his time over it", I honestly believed that I had a good picture; and why not, photographs of the other girls in my class were truly lovely. Alas it was not to be: suffice to say that I defaced the picture, got rid of it and ABSOLUTELY refused to pay for it.

It took me many years to realise that if I didn't want to be in front of the camera, I needed to be the one taking the photos. As I started taking photos, I realised that (1) I found it next to impossible to load 35mm film, (2) I kept forgetting to take the film to the photo developers, and when I did remember it was so old that the film had corroded anyway, and (3) the photo rarely came out the way I thought it would, assuming the film wasn't two years old already. Over the years, I overcame the 35mm film problem with a Pentax Efina camera. It has one of those APS film cartridges that slots in like a battery - remember those? Then I moved on to a Sony Cybershot DSC-T7: a beautifully elegant slimline point and click digital camera. It would have been perfect ... if I could understand the graphics which were all in Japanese (long story). Alrighty then, better get a camera that I can actually understand the instructions and graphics on-screen... Enter the Sony Cybershot DSC-W90: I loved this camera, actually, I still love it. But... I still can't quite get the photos I want. So next, I'm loving Photoshop which I bought to manipulate my digital images. I'm no expert, but my pictures are improving.

So where does the unpleasant person come in you ask? Well a couple of months ago, the BF & I visited a National Trust property with another couple. I had heard what an unpleasant person the wife was from a number of people, but thought "no one can be so unremittingly awful". Suffice to say I was wrong, they were right. So there I am with my little point and click camera, and the supercilious (... insert rude word) pulls out this all singing all dancing digital SLR, and with a contemptuous glance at my camera starts taking (what I'm sure are) fabulous photos... Grrr... I find it amazing that I'd been wittering on about buying a dSLR for a couple of years, and it took one glance from The Madam too galvanise me into action.

So here I am with my brand spanking new Nikon D90... and I don't know how to use it! I have signed up for photography lessons, and attended the first one last week. Our homework for the first week was exploring exposure and depth of field. Whilst my photo isn't very good, for the first time I took a photo and generally got what I expected... Result! The only way is up.

[I have no shame, I plan on inserting my picture when I've uploaded it to the computer! And here it is...]

This weekend the BF & I went to a photography exhibition put on by the local camera club. What an inspiration! They were so friendly, knowledgable and willing to talk to a rank beginner that I'm going to join.

Starting over

I have allowed this blog to languish untouched for a year or so. The original intention was for it to be a knitting blog, and then I realised that I do a number of other things in addition to knitting, I'm an extremely slow knitter and that if I tried to restrict it to knitting only, I wouldn't have much to say.

My other concern was that a work colleague became aware of this blog and was reading it regularly. That made me super-cautious about what I write here. I don't know why I was worrying as I don't put anything seriously personal on this blog... Still, it ground to a halt.

Anyhow, I've decided to resurrect it. I still knit, I still read, I still walk. But I've realised that I also like cooking, and I've taken up photography. I've decided to use this blog to record how I'm getting on with these hobbies. Maybe over time, I'll start to see an improvement in the new skills I'm trying to learn.

Educating Tussah...

Towards the end of last year I participated in my first ever swap. I'd read about them on other blogs with a great deal of interest. How lovely to knit something for another knitter (actually it's also a bit scary, 'cos you KNOW they'll see every mistake); you also know that they'll appreciate the effort that you made. How lovely to receive a parcel from an unknown knitter - it could be someone round the corner from you, or someone on the other side of the world.

I was really pleased with the idea of the Harvest Sock Swap as I only had to knit one sock, thereby avoiding second sock syndrome. It was great taking part (bendy needles aside), but I now realise that I really didn't understand how they work. Firstly, I thought that I had only one swap partner. I thought that I was supposed to get to know her, and to identify myself to her - which I did. Oops, actually I was supposed to remain a mystery. I was utterly confused when I seemed to be receiving two sets of email from her. One with her real email address, and one from someone called "Spoiler". Then, just a few days before the parcel arrived, I received an email from "Spoiler" saying that she wasn't my sock swap partner ... huh? I am not generally considered a stupid girl (at least I didn't think so until after this experience), but what the hell? Imagine my surprise when I receive a package from a completely different person other than my sock swap partner...

Then a day or two ago, I was browsing on Ravelry, and came across a very relevant question about swaps in the UK Swaps group. This lead me to The Bag Lady and The Pro's blog post called Swap 101. It explains about having an upstream spoilee and a downstream spoiler. I wish I'd seen this before I joined the swap, it would have saved a lot of head scratching and looking dumb!

For me there were a couple of notable things in participating in this swap (above-mentioned educative experience aside):

(1) The faboo package that I received from my spoiler*, Cheryl of Knitting-Knut. The yarn is lovely, and the knitting exquisite. Actually, I'm a little intimidated to try the pattern.

(2) Knitting for my spoilee* forced me to try my first patterned sock, and the pattern worked. Yeah!

*Ahem, just so you know, now that I've acquired the lingo I've just got to use it!

That Was the December That Was!

Clearly I'm a craptastic blogger, I've not said a thing all November. I barely had anything to say in December either...

This is partially work , partially a hectic social calendar and partially because I didn't want to let my Harvest Sock Swap partner down. I wasn't on time with the sock, but I got it sent out, and I know that she received it.

Last Christmas I allowed work to completely rule my life ... to the extent that I didn't participate in any of the the normal Christmas parties and social events. I was working in Belgium at the time, so a lot of evenings were spent alone in a hotel room, either reading, knitting or reading and knitting! Everyone else working on the project in Belgium lives there, so after work they have their regular home life. I don't think they realised how cheesed off I became, knowing that I am missing party after party, with no one recognising the sacrifice to my personal life. This year, I decided that there'll be none of that! I was going to every. single. thing. to which I'm invited: I'm pleased to report that I did exactly that. On top of all of that, my birthday is late in November, and I decided to throw a party. I hadn't had a party since I was 13, and I decided one was past due! The net effect was that I was partying each and every one of the six weeks up to Christmas.

Then I went to Denmark for the annual family get together. Three generations of my family in one house. Play with the niece and nephew; play with the dog; try to knit but end up spending more time tinking than knitting; collapse in bed exhausted each night... you know how that goes.

During all of these shenanigans, my Chinese colleague David came to visit whilst he was on a business trip in the UK in early December. He had previously given me a traditional Chinese tea set (photos to come). On this visit he brought along some tea, some special fish seasoning (which I've yet to use), and a traditional Chinese game called Wéiqí (aka "Go" in Japan). It is an ancient game of strategy, the rules of which are easy to learn, but take a lifetime to master. So during the visit, after playing me and then my father, we all agree this would be a fantastic game to take to Denmark to play with my brother-in-law (BIL). David suggests that since my sister and BIL are returning from a three year stint in Japan, I should get her to buy a "Go" table. I forgot to say anything to her, but remember whilst in Denmark, saying "damn, I think we've missed an opportunity". Yeah right, my smarty-pants sister proceeds to tell me how she got the bargain of a lifetime, purchasing a valuable antique "Go" table and some virtually heirloom "soldiers"! Grrr... Then we had a whole big debate about how the game is played. I'm not sure who won that one.

On the knitting front, well, apart from the Harvest Swap sock, there wasn't any real progress. I've joined the centre for the Seraphim inspired wrap that I'm working on, but I just cannot get it right. I have tinked back the same five rows over and over and over again. It's gotten so bad that I started knitting the Woven Cables scarf in a bluey-green Debbie Bliss Cashmerino Aran for some relief. I haven't done cables in years; I find them very easy, but super tight on the needle on the following row.

I received a fantastic package from my Harvest Sock Swap "spoiler". Note how I'm using terms like "spoiler" as though I know what they mean. That's the subject of a whole 'nother post! I just love the Koigu yarn she chose. If that wasn't enough to put a grin on my face just before Christmas, I also received my first parcel from the Socktopus Yarn Club. And what a parcel. I am so glad I joined this club, Alice has included some truly lovely extras in the "Bells and Whistles" package that I signed up for. I only wish I'd gone for the "Humdinger" package now...

To My Harvest Sock Pal

I have mislaid your address, and I'd like to send your parcel to you. Please can you respond to my note on Ravelry with your address? Thanks.

The Harvest Sock Swap Marathon

Now, I'm not a particularly lithe woman; I always say I'm built for comfort, and not for speed. But that doesn't mean that I like to take FOREVER to get something done. Yet that is exactly what has happened here. I have FINALLY finished my Harvest Sock Swap sock (with only one day to go). I believe you have to post the sock and the goodies out by tomorrow. Well, truth be told, I won't achieve the posting date, but THANK GOD this sock is done.

I won't bore ya with all the details, but suffice to say, I don't love Lantern Moon needles. Well, I do, but they break ... all the time. It really put me off knitting the sock. I used to think that I was a fairly loose knitter, but maybe not. Maybe it's the way I hold my needles. I don't have a single needle that isn't bent.

The yarn, on the other hand, was truly lovely to work with. Helena is a 4ply (sock weight) yarn, made from pure organic merino. I chose a harvest-time colour called Bonfire, which I thought was appropriate. One of the main autumn celebrations here in the UK is Guy Fawkes - aka Bonfire Night on 5th November. We build bonfires, burn the "Guy", let off fireworks, and have a party. It is all in memory of the man who was caught trying to blow up the Houses of Parliament in 1605.

I chose to make Monkey in the end. (Guy Fawkes was a cheeky monkey don'cha know.) What a beautifully written pattern! I had a little difficulty with the working the row above the double yarn overs at first, but with some timely help from my sock guru friend, I soon overcame it. Needle woes aside, I enjoyed doing this pattern, and I'm sure to make this again for myself at another time. I am putting a few goodies in the parcel that I'm sending off to my pal this weekend. I only hope that she likes it.

I'll add pictures at the weekend, when I've got good light to take photos.