a simple yarn

Well, I’ve made a decision. And I’m not sure if it’s a breath of fresh air…a step in the right direction…an admission of defeat…a proper prioritising of projects…or just the path of least resistance…

Ever since the advent of AD 2007, I’d decided that I should complete the projects begun in 2006. Sound thinking. Completion…it’s a good thing. There are three such projects, as I shared not so long ago. But days tick by and still I find that there is no progress on these so-called ‘works in progress’. Maybe they should just be called ‘works’…without the ‘progress’.

Yes, I realise that this is a temporary glitch in my knitting (and weaving and spinning), due to circumstances beyond my control. But more than that, I’m also sensing an anchored-sized-weight dragging on my desire to pick up the needles again (or put on a new warp or pull out the spinning wheel). Sigh. So, I’m going to cut loose the albatross which is hanging so weightily around my neck. I considered doing a little beading on the albatross to fashion a lovely necklace, but alas, to no avail. It still weighed me down. And here’s what I’ve decided…

I’m going to finish Daughter-Kate’s cardigan. About half-way through the sleeves, which are done in tandem anyway. Will piece it together and do the collar. After all this ribbed knitting, I’m going to finish it, even if it kills me and then…never again…never do another ribbed jumper…never…ever…nope…

I’m going to pack away the wonky square cushion cover and the knitted monkey, as I have absolutely no desire to see them for awhile. Being who I am, I will certainly come back to them in the future when the stream of creativity flows again.

And to boost my mid-winder-doldrums, I will cast on a new project without a thought or care of those which I haven’t finished-which is a tremendously huge step for me, as I’m quite anal about finishing what I’ve started!

So, here’s the roughly sketched list for now (with archived pics as a reminder):

Right, so movin’ on, I’m off to finish Kate’s cardy…

Hours Knitting = 0; Hours In The Car = 6; Hours Driving (Not Knitting) In The Car = 6

One fact which is evident when family come to town is that I spend more time doing ‘touristy’ things. And so, the other areas of life-knitting, weaving, spinning, etc-are set aside for awhile to share the local sights.

Today, Rock of Cashel.

Tomorrow, Glendalough.

Warning: Family Factoid to Follow
While at ‘The Rock’ we took a tour of the cemetery which surrounds the ruins. Was surprised to see a rather newly erected headstone amongst the ancient markers. ‘Look!’ said Sister-In-Law-Carla, ‘there’s our family name.’ Right, I thought, what a jokester. But lo and behold, there it was…

You see, what makes this noteworthy is that, unlike so many other North Americans, neither Husband-Will nor I have any particularly close connection to Irish heritage. Celtic, yes…Irish, no. Welsh, yes…Scottish, yes…Irish, no. No ancient Irish granny changing her surname from McMarling or O’Marling upon entering Ellis Island. In fact, we are the only ones in the Dublin phonebook with this moniker, to my knowledge. What I’m saying is…it’s not Irish…..and it’s not common.

But look, photographic proof that some distant relation-an ancient granny perhaps, or at least someone bearing the name-is buried at The Rock of Cashel. Very cool indeed.

A brief get-well message to my grandmother.

This is Daisy.
She’s soon to be 96 years old.
She practices tai chi.
She’s a redhead amidst the sea of blue hairs at ‘The Inn.’
She’ll eat as many Cadbury chocolates as I’m willing to send.
She’s a firecracker, so they say, and I would agree.
She takes to heart the thought that when she is old she will wear purple…and red hats…and kick up her heels.
I’m so glad that I have a share in her gene pool.

Warning: A Quick Christmas Retrospective Ahead….

As I anticipate the arrival of the family-in-law, I’m reminded of some Christmas gifts that are going back to the US for some of the nieces. Little girls whom I don’t see very often. What do they like? What are their interests? Even with internet connectivity, I find it hard sometimes to know them well enough to know what to get. And because they live in warmer-climate-Alabama, scarves, mittens and hats aren’t too practical.

And so, with a nod to the ‘one skein’ idea, I’ve crafted some original felted bag patterns for Niece-Hannah and Niece-Olivia.

Hopefully the wee bags will interest the wee girls, but if not, I’ll put in the added incentive of including a few wee sweets!

I’m feeling rather like Susie….Homemaker, that is. Or Becky…..Homecky. Or Donna…..Domestic.

I was at home today. And it was good to be here, what with all that to-ing and fro-ing of late. But today was the day I had been dreading and looking forward to, if that’s humanly possible. It was time to clean the house, which was doing a fairly realistic impression of a pig sty.

The Christmas stuff was down. And risking a flurry of ‘Bah Humbugs’ flinging my way, I must confess that the Christmas decorations actually came down on the 23rd of December.

Oh the horror of it all.

Well to be fair-and I hope the logic of this is evident-the family had our own Christmas on Friday, the 22nd, after the kids got out of school. The 23rd was spent packing for the hideously early departure to Portugal on the 24th. And honestly, I just couldn’t bear being gone 10 days to then return to a house filled with Christmas cheer gone stale. So, while the Kiddies played with their newly received gifts, bags were packed, leaving a wee bit of time to whisk away the decorations.

But the house, while tidy, was filthy. So today was the day. And there’s good reason for it…

The in-laws are coming to town…not just the parents-in-law, but all of the siblings-in-law as well. A mostly-planned-with-some-impromptu-elements-kind-of-reunion here in Ireland. Should be great craic.

So what’s on the menu for tomorrow, Susie? Massive restock of Old Mother Hubbard’s cupboards.

And now, something short and sweet…

I’m reading blogs. I see resolutions, which are not resolutions, but goals or foci. All very good and I encourage and support every effort.

So, what shall I do with this new year?

And after having a think about it, I believe it shall not be what but rather how. I observed that as 2006 came to a close, the pace of life picked up enormous speed (much like a runaway train at times). Activities and tasks came and went without so much as a mental pause or physical breath to separate them. Simplicity was replaced with complexity.

And so, with the proverbial ‘clean slate’ of 2007 before me, I will endeavour to value and prioritize the important, harness and tame the urgent, and disregard that which is neither.

Warning (and apologies): The following is devoid of any direction, purpose or theme. Just followin’ a train of thought…

So, it was a day in the city. Shopping (or rather bashing against the other million January sale shoppers on the sidewalk), knitting with the girls at Barnie’s, getting a haircut, and more shopping (or bashing, as it were).

Pride and Prejudice
Right, as I’m sitting in the chair getting another inch or so of brown/blond cut off my hair to reveal more of the salt and pepper combo underneath, I’m wondering to myself (cuz I’d never have the nerve to ask the hairstylist)…why is it exactly people have a prejudice against gray hair? I’m not so utterly unobservant. I’ve seen platinum blond with black; black with blond and red and brown; black with raspberry; blue and green; red and purple. Quite the rainbow of colours sitting atop many a female head in Dublin. So why is it, I ask, that we shrink in fear at simple, unobtrusive gray?

Does the absence of colour automatically equal fatigued aging? Did you know that in certain parts of Africa, someone with gray hair is revered for their wisdom? Pity I don’t live in Africa, it’d be a healthy boost to my pride…but then again, it might be hard to knit in such a hot environment…

Speaking of knitting…
Sitting on the bus coming home from the city centre knitting group, the upper deck is crowded, windows steamed, quietly murmured conversations. A few rows behind me is a young tot chatting to him/herself…never saw the child exactly to determine him-ness or her-ness. Eventually, the sing-song toddler-babble took on a measured melodic familiarity. Surely not….what I was hearing sounded an awful lot like Queen’s ‘Radio Ga Ga’. Perhaps the child is singing a new Sesame Street tune and I’m superimposing my own interpretation on it. Or so I thought until the child began to chant at the top of his/her lungs…’We will, we will….rock you,’ which actually came out like ‘Ee ill, ee ill, ock u.’ Moreover, after that little tribute to Freddie was done, the dad (I’m assuming) began selecting a Bryan Adams selection. ‘Don’t yike at song!’ Wow. So much for the simplicity of Barney the big purple dinosaur with the iPod generation…

Speaking of purple…
I have found myself buying more purple in anticipation of the soon to be silver hair colour. Picked up a little aubergine cardigan in the city today and, not wearing it altogether in one go, I look forward to the cobweb felted scarf I need to coerce Holly into making for me…early birthday pressie perhaps? Also found some forgotten Lorna’s Laces sock yarn purchased at the November Knitting and Stitching Show! Which also puts me in mind that I have a lovely stack of likewise aubergine aran yarn (5 more skeins received as a Christmas pressie) which needs to be transformed into a cabled vest…once the unfinished projects of 2006 are completed of course.

Speaking of 2006…
One of my end-of-the-year Christmas pressies to me was a beautiful plate and bowl from pottery mecca (or so I was told). Found it in the little town of Lagos in the Algarve region of Portugal. Yummy!

Speaking of yummy…
While in Portugal, Holly and I stumbled upon some chocolate we thought only available in France. Lovely brand of dark chocolate! She likes it with bits of chopped espresso bean. Me? I prefer the plain dark—76%. Interesting that it’s 76%, not 75%. Does that extra 1% make such a difference? Also have 86% yet to try. Wondering what the other 10% tastes like. At some point I figure the cocoa percentage will be too high to be tasty. But until I reach that point, the current 76% is a lovely complement to the evening cup of cappuccino.

Speaking of cappuccino…
Dear Husband-Will has just handed me the daily cup of bliss…so, it’s time for the runaway train of thought to come back to the station.

Nor more manly cashmere scarves. Not a woven houndstooth scarf in sight. With the Christmas rush behind it’s time to see what remains…

My mother is a tidier. It’s within her genetic wiring to clean, wipe, straighten, and sweep. I don’t know that she enjoys it necessarily, but she does it nonetheless. And within the annals of our family history is the story (and picture) of my mom on Christmas morning. The wrapping paper had barely left the gifts, not quite touching the floor, when she dashed into the kitchen, retrieved a trash bag (or bin liner as my Irish friends would say) and began tidying. Moreoever while we played with our newly received toys, there she was vaccuuming the floor of the bits and pieces that dare to lay there. I’m not sure that she had even opened her own gifts at that point.

And so because I am my mother’s daughter, I am doing an end of year tidying…

Now that the Christmas pressies are sent, opened and hopefully enjoyed, I’m looking around to see what’s left before I jump into the anticipated projects of the new year.

But the difficult lies in the books, patterns and yarns that are calling out my name. Sticking my fingers in my ears against the siren call, I have to put on the proverbial blinders to finish what I’ve started! Ugh! Some diversions are coming from this little book that I purchased while in the US.

I had a glimpse of the first book of magical knitting. Wasn’t too inspired. Picked up this one though and was intrigued with the moebius-themed projects throughout.

If you’re a cat-owner or cat-lover, lots of cat beds to choose from. Not sure I’ll jump into those projects nor the jester-influenced bags, but they’re intriguing to look at! I am, however, inspired by the multi-comparmented bags and totes, all with a moebius touch. Very cool indeed!

So, I guess behind me are lots of projects I enjoyed learning about and knitting. And as I look before me, I can see that it’s going to be a high-fibre diet again this year!

What? Two weeks since posting thoughts…fibre or otherwise. So what in the world has happened? Or perhaps it’s better said….where in the world?

I have just unpacked my suitcase for the third time in less than two months.
The luggage is a little more battered…and so is my body.
The passport is a bit more frayed…likewise my sleep patterns.

Lest you think I’m a jetsetter (ha, a more ludicrous thing was never thought!), I find that for me the latter part of 2006 was the year for traveling.

Warning and Apologies: Brief End of Year Travelogue Ahead

Christmas on the Road…a State of Mind
Family lands in Portugal on Christmas Eve morning. Do all the typical-Christmasy-things such as jump in the hotel pool, go down to the endlessly sandy beach, soak up the almost-warm-but-at-least-I’m-getting-my-vitamin-D-sunrays. No snow, no Christmas tree (unless you count the evergreen palms), no carolers bundled from head to toe in wool. Honestly, I’m not quite used to this form of Christmas celebration.

Christmas morning. Children awake early. At least some things are consistent no matter where you find yourself. Holly and family pad down the hotel corridor in Christmas pjs to exchange gifts with our brood. Smiles and laughter understandable in any language.

Off to Christmas dinner. Surprisingly, a variety of restaurants are open on this day…perhaps as a nod to the Portuguese culture or perhaps a reality of being in a tourist town. Without a turkey carcass or cranberry in sight, we sit down to:

Not what you consider ‘traditional’, but a plate of chips when shared with friends, is indeed a pleasant thing.

As a close to our Christmas celebration, a glass of on-the-house port to toast the season. Evoked more of a cough-medicine-gone-bad impression, and less of visions-of-sugar-plums but a great way to finish our non-traditional Christmas celebration realizing that the spirit of Christmas truly is a state of mind…

The Quest for Coffee
I’ve heard it said that the Portuguese really value their coffee, but standing in front of the hotel Nescafé-powdered-coffee-machine-that-sometimes-works is leading me to believe otherwise.

Argh.

If I have one more cup of icky powdered cappuccino poured mechanically into a cup with a pre-measured squirt of faux milk and slap of chocolate I believe I shall scream. There is not a real coffee machine in sight. I think I’m having tremors.

And in the midst of a small village somewhere in the Portuguese mountains we stop at a petrol station in search of lunchtime sandwiches. A small café provides a simple meal. What to drink? Oh fine, let’s risk another coffee. And what did we receive? Pure elixir of caffeinated bliss! The best cup of coffee I had during our ten days in the country. In the middle of nowhere. At a little shop. From a petrol station. Amazing.

New Year’s Portuguese Style

Fireworks on the beach. Husband and Daughter enjoyed them immensely. Wish I could say the same. Son-Who-Runs-At-Full-Speed-From-The-Moment-He-Wakes burned all his energy until he crashed into unconscious sleep at 10.30pm!

The Fibre Bit
Of course no holiday…or no day in general…would be complete without a bit of knitting. In Portugal it was beach knitting. Somewhat chilly at first. A bit windy as well. Had to periodically shake out the mounds of sand from my lap and the cardy I’m working on. But the change of venue was a welcome one nonetheless.

Back Home Again
And so with the bags unpacked, Husband-Will and I sit with a home-brewed cappuccino in front of our little fire. After leaving brilliant blue Portuguese skies and returning to gray and rainy Dublin skies, it’s truly good to be home, which is what I think I said after returning from Birmingham….and France….and the US……