Well. In my last post, I graciously elided the painful will-I-won't-I backstory to the holiday, involving 5 weeks of very fraught bureaucratic hassling, for purposes of retrieving passport from clutches of Home Office, for purposes of holiday.

This backstory has decided it doesn't like to be ignored, it wants its place in the limelight, and like a trashy little no-good wannabe, it doesn't care who or what it has to step on to make it to the A plot.

Which is my very convoluted way of saying: holiday, I can't haz it. Or rather, I could haz it, but I would have to haz at least one more week of it than I bargained for while fighting more bureaucratic evils, for purposes of being allowed back in the UK at the end of it, and really that isn't an option. Especially with iKnit day and all. So there ya go. I don't go. I stay.

*le sigh*

Eh. Who needs calamari anyway.

Posted by Robynn at 05:21 PM | Permalink | 10 cups of tea on the table | TrackBacks (0)

A miracle: I picked up the needles today. Did quite a few rounds, too. I wouldn't say I'm entirely back to the usual level of addiction, but it's starting to sound like fun again.

Cheers, whistles etc. I am *so* glad the mojo is coming back.

Posted by Robynn at 02:25 PM | Permalink | 2 cups of tea on the table | TrackBacks (0)

Have you seen the Twist Collective? It's a fabulous new online magazine - and by new, I mean really new; groundbreaking. As the name suggests, it's published by a group of designers, editors etc, and functions largely as a showcase and shopfront for their talents: most of the patterns are for individual sale, not for free. You can browse the magazine, read the excellent articles, take inspiration from the beautifully photographed designs, and not pay a cent; but if you want to knit a project, you have to shell out around $6 to $7 apiece.

I think this is not only fair, but the future (or perhaps, one future model) of online publishing. In fact, more than a year ago, I was daydreaming about my fantasy future knitting magazine (oh, you know you do the same!), and this was a major feature of it: patterns for sale. (My model was quite different in many ways, including pricing structure, but this idea was part of it.) It just made sense to me that for a professional publication, all-free patterns would not enable the magazine to deliver suitable quality to the readers, nor to pay the designers appropriately. So, create a catalogue (as some are calling it) that offers plenty of fantastic free content, and provides an opportunity for readers to pay only for what they really want to knit - not for a whole issue of perhaps not-my-style filler. Eminently reasonable, right? After all, nobody's making anybody pay anything. There are plenty of sources of great free patterns for those who want them. And many of us get just as much joy from simply looking at interesting design concepts and details, mentally bookmarking them for future use in our own projects. So frankly, it's a win all round; especially if the magazine is really well produced - as the Twist Collective most certainly is.

But of course it's a new model, and it requires some adjustment, and some people are quite het up about that. I understand they might be disappointed that it's not free, when we're so used to online magazines providing free content. (Lucky, lucky, spoilt us.) But really I am amazed at the strength of feeling that's coming out. Some quotes from Ravelry (and please understand, I don't mean to attack anyone behind these words; I just find the sentiments expressed fascinating because they are so alien to me):

"I know that 100 dollars isn’t enough to actually compensate a designer for all the work put into a pattern, but I sort of took that as a given… doing what you love to do rarely makes people rich."
Isn't that weird? The idea that it's somehow *wrong* to make a living from doing what you love, and therefore it's okay to effectively exploit their passion by paying below-cost rates?

"They may call it a business model, but I call it deception... It is greed and I don’t like it."
This person was arguing that it was unfair to make readers pay for what "the magazine" should be paying for; she also claimed that Twist was offering "NOTHING" to the readers! Again, I'm thoroughly flummoxed by this point of view. Apart from the lack of understanding of economics (how, exactly, should a magazine pay its designers if not with money gained from readers, eg via the cover price?), and the assumption that everything except the actual pattern instructions constituted no reader value whatsoever... I am amazed at the accusation of deception and greed. How is it deceptive to put a product out there and ask for payment? How is it greed to want the end user to pay for (some of!) what they get?

The greed point is the bit that really rankles. Because surely, the most greedy thing is to expect to get patterns for free - when patterns take many, many, many hours of hard work to write. When did knitters get so entitled? When did we start to feel we were owed the fruits of others' labours for nothing?

Posted by Robynn at 10:23 PM | Permalink | 10 cups of tea on the table

You've probably noticed how many knitting blogs also feature a high dose of cooking content. Apparently the domestic arts really are quite closely connected for a lot of people. Not for me so much; I love me some food, I quite enjoy cooking, as long as it doesn't take too long and I don't have to do much measuring of ingredients. (There are only three measurements in my kitchen: A Bit; Some; or Lots.) I enjoy ogling the perfectly iced cupcakes, I salivate over the fudgey brownie delights, but I don't generally go off and try it at home. So my blog has, alas, been largely devoid of baking content, and I am woefully behind the curve.

Which is why it gives me great pleasure to announce that, right now, I have a bun in the oven.

I trust that will satisfy the demands of the bake-blogging contingent.

Posted by Robynn at 05:08 PM | Permalink | 25 cups of tea on the table | TrackBacks (0)

Ebony sox stix are fun to burn.

Only if they're broken, obv. And maybe only if you're a pyromaniac. But aren't we all?

Posted by Robynn at 10:43 PM | Permalink | 2 cups of tea on the table | TrackBacks (0)

So I may have been doing a little shopping lately.

Whoops.

It seems someone's been pushing my design button, because that's the reason behind almost all of these. Well, Scarf Style was mostly because I was so impressed with someone's Camelspin scarf (Ravelry link; wow, huh?). The Barbara Walkers and Righetti can be filed under "everybody else has them, why can't I?" (Or even a sort of guilt... like, how can I pretend to be a designer* without these Seminal Texts?) New Pathways was all about wanting to understand alternative constructions; similarly, I'd seen enough of Knitting New Scarves to think there was some very unorthodox fabric construction going on there, and I wanted to explore that, even though I'm really unlikely to actually make many of those as scarves.

And then there's Inspired to Knit. Which was pretty much a whim, as I'd hardly had a chance to peek at the book at all - but I had vaguely heard something about there being stuff about how to write patterns in it, and it looked sort of pretty, and I just *wanted* it, although I really didn't know what to expect.

Wow.

I love it so much, I sort of don't want to put it on the shelf. I want to tuck it inside my bra for safekeeping. I want to sleep with it under my pillow so I can absorb its genius in my sleep. Which is possibly a strange sort of overreaction. I mean, for starters, the design-school stuff is actually not that interesting. (At least, not to me, but to be fair, I've read a lot of design books already; I'm not sure what I might possibly wanting out of any more books, but it's not going to be found in any mostly-patterns book.) And then the designs themselves are not actually groundbreaking. It's not like something from Norah Gaughan, or Cat Bordhi, or indeed Lynne Barr (that New Scarves book), something that makes you go "wow! Who would think of *doing* that?"

It's just really, really, really pretty. Almost everything in it has that WANT! factor. And a lot of it seems like something I might have designed myself (if I were as talented as Michele Rose Orne, that is; that wasn't meant to sound quite so presumptuous!). They're right up my style alley. Look! Victoriana!

I love the concept of this - a lacy scarf attached to a heavier jacket - although I'm a bit bored by the jacket part of it. And I'd change the closure. How about holding it together with a shawl pin? Or even tying it with the scarf collar itself? Or maybe just using a satin ribbon? Hm. I guess I'm not sure exactly why I'm so un-enthused about that knitted tie. I just think it could be prettier. But still - the overall design? Lovely.

There is pretty much nothing at all I'd want to change about this, though.

The book's layout, with a little design sketch included for each pattern, is very appealing. I love fashion drawing. And it's interesting to see how, in some cases, the design seems to have changed a bit from its (presumably) initial conception. A minor example here:

The closure at the neck gives quite a different effect to the zip used in the final version, and I doubt I would have thought of doing that myself if presented with a zip design - but I much prefer it. Incidentally, don't you love how these big cabled cuffs suggest a furry muff?

Totally yummy book. Yum yum yum. It's got lace, cables, colourwork, shaping, beautiful finishing details and carefully worked out construction - everything a knitter who likes her projects to hold her interest could possibly want.

_____
* Which I don't, as it happens, but that's a whole other complicated issue.

Posted by Robynn at 04:06 PM | Permalink | 5 cups of tea on the table

Stand still without falling over.
See straight.
Talk without slurring (at least up till my second or third cocktail).
Walk unassisted.
Expect to live for more than another 7 years.

Turns out, my friend Lucy's father can no longer say the same, thanks to progressive supranuclear palsy. Which is why our team for the British 10k is running in aid of the PSP Association. Lucy says they have been a big help to her family.

I'm not really very comfortable with fundraising, for all sorts of not very good reasons. Usually when I race, I do it for me, and I don't ask for sponsorship. But now I'm asking. I bet you've never heard of PSP before, and I bet you'd be really glad this association existed if someone close to you was diagnosed with it. So this is for Lucy. I would really appreciate it if you would sling a couple of quid into the pot. Thank you.

Posted by Robynn at 02:57 PM | Permalink | 0 cups of tea on the table | TrackBacks (0)

We had a houseguest recently who was quite interested in my knitting, and admired all the gorgeous yarn, and sighed: "I wish I could knit."

Now isn't that a phrase that just makes you burn? I generally assume that it's a polite lie for "I have absolutely no interest in this, but I see that you quite enjoy it, and I wish I had something that I liked to do so much." Because of course, if you take the bait ("You can! It's so easy! I'll show you!") - well, that ends in nervous looks and stutters and a desperate bid for escape. So, as much to remind myself of this as anything else, I generally respond with: "I understand that knitting's not for everyone, don't worry, I don't mind if you're not interested."

But Tongtos insisted: "No, really, I would love to knit! I think it's wonderful! I really wish I could! But I'm terrible at it!"
"Oh," I said. "Well, have you tried much?"
"Yes, back in third grade, we did it in school and I just couldn't pick it up."

Now I ask you. Third grade. Please, when I did it in school I was the worst in the class. Seriously. What an idiotic idea to carry around with you: you couldn't do this when you were eight, so you can't do it ever.

And therefore I tend to revert to my initial interpretation: lack of interest. Because in the intervening 20 years, I'm sure Tongtos could have tried again if she wanted to. But of course this was the absolute worst thing she could have said, in terms of making me itch to convert her. I didn't try - I didn't see enough of her in the two days she was with us, and besides, there's that lack of interest thing. It just got me thinking again about the desire to spread the love of knitting far and wide.

I try to rein myself in, I really do. I absolutely know that not everyone wants to knit, or will like it if they try. I do tend to suspect that if someone says they "tried it, but didn't like it", they might have changed their minds if they just had better yarn, or needles, or a more fun project, or a better teacher... but I accept that very possibly, they Just Don't Like It. Different strokes. Okay. I can understand all that.

But you know what I really, really can't understand? What leaves me completely baffled? Knitters who like to knit, who are happy to occasionally talk about knitting... but who somehow have escaped the complete obsession that seems to take hold of so many of us. Knitters who haven't used their Ravelry account. Knitters who can pass by a yarn shop without even pausing for a moment. Knitters who admire what I'm working on, maybe ask how it's done, but don't actually want me to show them the answer, or to be introduced to the great patterns available online; knitters who you'll never actually see with knitting in their hands. How does that work? Casual knitters. It mystifies me.

Posted by Robynn at 11:21 AM | Permalink | 6 cups of tea on the table

It really seems to me that I'm getting a lot more done, now that I'm a knitting slut, than when I devoted all my energies to just the one thing at a time. I suppose it could be an illusion caused by the excitement of variation, but no, I really am making better progress. For why?

1. The easy one: socks in handbag. Obviously mobile knitting (trains, waiting rooms, bus queues) is knitting that simply wouldn't have happened when I was all about one jersey in a basket in the living room. So this almost doesn't count - it's my bit on the side. It doesn't affect what happens inside the home. But then there's

2. The desk knitting. This one's quite new, and has yet to prove itself. I decided to try the idea of having some simple knitting at hand for when I'm on hold to some evil corporation, or waiting for a slow web connection, or similar. Well, so far, I'm certainly getting some knitting done (Armin's washcloth came out in record time), but I seem to be getting less work done. I suspect a plain stocking stitch sock might be the only thing that I can bear to pick up for literally a few stitches at a time - and I'm not sure I'll ever bother with casting on a completely plain stocking stitch sock. Hm.

3. The bedroom knitting. (Ooh er!) Also newish, and working out nicely. I decided it would be nice to have something availalbe for a few calming rows before bed, perhaps while reading a little, and indeed I like this very much. However, combined with the desk and handbag knitting, this makes for a total of 3 small and simple projects required... and I'm not naturally inclined towards small and simple projects. Which, I guess, explains how my current bedside knitting is that bit of lace I showed you. Anything on 2.5mm needles is immediately disqualified as "small and simple", don't you think? Again, hm.

4. The finishing. All these small projects, once the knitting's done and they no longer serve their time-filler purpose, seem to end up on the kitchen table. Then I work on the stitching of hems and darning in of ends while, say, waiting for the cats to finish breakfast (they cannot be left alone or they will switch plates, with Disastrous Results for both the fat-kitty-on-diet and skinny-kitty-on-prescription), or for supper to finish cooking. Stealing minutes in this way does seem to mean that finishing takes an inordinately long time, but on the other hand, it doesn't interfere with Real Knitting time.

5. And on that subject. I still always have the big sweater project in front of the TV. The magical part, though, comes when I've just finished and haven't had time to set up the next one yet (gathering of yarn, needles, pattern etc). Used to be I would go NUTS at this point, trying to find everything I needed so I could do some knitting RIGHT NOW. Which drove Armin crazy, if he was trying to watch TV while I fussed, and frankly it usually didn't work out too well for me either. You need some time to mull it over, don't you? Can't just dive in there. So now, when I cross the finish line, it's easy enough for me to bring out the handbag knitting as a stopgap until I have time to plan. Brilliant!

There you have it. The case for polygamy. What about you? Are you monogamous, or do you wish you were? Do you have a UFO problem? Startitis or finishitis? (I do always seem to finish a bunch of things at around the same time. Very strange.)

Posted by Robynn at 04:54 PM | Permalink | 11 cups of tea on the table

...Mel tagged me! Better do something about that then.

What was I doing 10 years ago?
Hm. Late May 1998... I may well have been trying not to cry. That would be when I was just starting my first permanent job - secretary/office manager in a small and really dysfunctional office. The first day or so was okay; the previous incumbent was still on hand to train me up (she was leaving on some world travelling thing or other). Then she got really sick and disappeared - and so did my boss, the financial director. So I was all alone in the office, and it was a pretty complicated job, and I was clueless. It got even worse when the FD came back and realised what a cock-up I was making and yelled at me. A lot. Oh, and just for added atmosphere, picture this: the office was decorated in the company's colour scheme. Yellow and black. Really, really, really bright yellow. On all the walls. Yellow.

Yeah, great memory there. Thanks. Huh.

(Yes, it did improve. Althouth not a whole lot - which is why I quit 8 months later to move to Joburg and get into newspapers. So it was for the best really.)

Five things on my to-do list for today:
Well, the list is huge, but for today specifically? Let's take a random sample.
Bookkeeping
Order yarn
Order other stuff
Blog
Watch Gilmore Girls and start new jumper

Ok, that last one may not technically be on the list. But I rather think it's going to happen. Soon, if I have anything to do with it, and I think I do.

Snacks I enjoy
In the interests of brevity, I think I'm going to have to limit this to snacks I do not (much) enjoy:
Crisps (except South African Nik Naks, those are yummy)
Peanuts
...nope, that's it. I'm a food girl. Sweet, savoury, it's all good.

Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
Build a vast commune somewhere in Switzerland with houses (separated by respectable distances) for all my best friends. Because dammit, having everyone I love best scattered all over the world is really not working for me. I want them with me. Maybe if I bribed them with houses we could finally spend some quality time together.

Alternative plan: kidnap them all and put them on a superyacht for years of hanging around on a boat together, with cocktails and (of course) yarn, hopping from place to place. Of course, I would only be able to live with myself if the yacht were solar-powered, so some of those billions would have to go to funding R&D of really efficient renewable energy technology.

Oh, and I'd also put a lot of money into building The Ultimate Knitting Company. Gorgeous yarn cafes in the best locations around the world, stocked with our own lines of yummy handpainted yarns (I'd get to oversee the creative process, putting colours together etc, but not dealing with any of the actual messy dyeing) and perfect knitting bags and so on. I'd have a crack team of brilliant staff making the whole thing run like a well-oiled machine, so my input could be restricted to designing colourways, bags and patterns. And finding more great suppliers. And hosting events where I could meet lots of lovely customers. But not the actual running of the business, cos that's, like, way hard work, dude.

I think I might be having way too much fun with this question, seeing as I haven't quite figured out how I'm going to get those billions in the first place. Oh well. Next.

Places you have lived:
Cape Town. Sasolburg. Johannesburg. London. An awful lot of different addresses in each of those places, but it's really a pretty limited selection. Next up: Zurich!

(That's by way of signalling my intention to the universe. No real moving plans as yet, but it's a goal.)

Okay then. Who do I want to know more about? Lessee...

Jill
Huan-Hua
Wanda

I'm going to leave it at that. Most of my small blogroll seems to have been tagged already.

Posted by Robynn at 04:04 PM | Permalink

In the interests of preserving (or possibly retrieving) some base level of sanity, I've cleared my diary for a couple of weeks so that I can Catch Up on assorted admin-y and strategic tasks. This clearly shows my genetic predisposition to lunatic levels of optimism. I am not an Idjit; I know full well what generally happens in situations like this. I am prepared to face the possibility that my two weeks will end and I'll feel very little advanced on where I'm at now, if at all. (I'm already cursing at those unavoidable social engagements that are interrupting my precious Catching Up time. Friends! Pah! How dare they want to see me!) But yet, I have to believe it's possible to make progress, because, well, otherwise I'll cry.

So far, progress has been slow. Not entirely non-existent, but slow. My time and energy has naturally been distracted by such things as (1) a houseguest, (2) doing battle with The Devil (also known as Parcelforce). And of course the sun is shining, the world is looking particularly beautiful, and it does seem rather cruel that I should be stuck inside working. But there it is. I'll probably feel happier in the long run if I spend these gorgeous, golden afternoons at my desk rather than in the park.

Probably.

I am also hoping that as this "catching up" lark progresses, I may find time to catch you all up on my knitting progress. (Yes! There has been some!) No promises... but one can hope.

Meanwhile, I'm plotting a knitty picnic in Osterley for later in the summer. Not on WWKIP day (I know better than to try to compete with the draw of iKnit's scavenger hunt), but a picnic natheless. Perhaps on an Open House day - picnic first, stockroom devastation later. Sound like fun?

Posted by Robynn at 05:14 PM | Permalink | 2 cups of tea on the table

I just got around to downloading a heap of pictures that have been accumulating on my phone for a while. Time to share...

Have you seen Ikea's new finish on the Billy range?

Jemima thinks my yarn basket would be the perfect cave, if I'd only let her tip it over for easy access.

And some snaps in Osterley Park - very near our new home, and where I now go for my morning run. Lucky me!

I was thinking that a picnic here would be a wonderful thing to do for Knit in Public Day, but that was before I heard about the iKnit treasure hunt. Still - maybe another day. What do you think?

Posted by Robynn at 10:55 AM | Permalink | 2 cups of tea on the table

Recently I was invited to talk to the lovely Sally and Justine of new podcast Miss Flip Knits. This being an opportunity to talk about me, and knitting, and me knitting, naturally I accepted with delight. It was very fun indeed. And now you can hear the results. (They also talk to Jon of Easyknits, who seems a very fine fellow.)

It's very strange hearing myself talk, I must say. Even though everybody always says it. I don't claim much originality. But it's strange. I kept thinking how much I sound like my cousin Sandra. Jill, this episode should give you plenty of accent geek enjoyment - you have slightly-South-African me, Kiwi Justine, and Sally from... I have no idea where Sally's from. But she sounds lovely.

Posted by Robynn at 05:45 PM | Permalink | 4 cups of tea on the table

This afternoon was a special occasion: the first Purlescence Open House. I opened my doors for a few eager knitters to come and hang out, drink tea, knit together, and oh yes... maybe do a little shopping.

We had a great time. Mel brought some amazing brownies. I meant to take photos, but was too busy having fun... sorry! Anyway, all was going well; there was a little civilised yarn fondling, a little sharing of knitting tips and showing off of FOs, a lot of cookie eating (or was that just me?). Good times.

And then I suggested that maybe people wanted to take a peek at the stockroom.

Wow.

Apparently a handful of really excited knitters seems like a lot more than a handful; Armin flatly refused to believe there weren't at least double the actual number of us running upstairs and squealing. Drawers were pulled out. People were squatting on the floor rifling through the goods, oohing and aahing at what they discovered. (Earlier, Stephanie - a new Ravelry friend - had asked excitedly: "Are you going to stock rosewood needles?" Oh, my dear, what you don't know...) There was squeezing, and stroking, and dithering, and a fair amount of cooing and sighing. And then there was begging. "Will you do this again, Robynn?" "Can we come back?" "Please!" "I'll make more brownies!"

Brownies? Oh all right then.

I'm thinking of making it a monthly event. The next one should be on Saturday 23 May. If you want to join the mailing list, please leave a comment. I would really love to meet more of you!

Posted by Robynn at 06:26 PM | Permalink | 6 cups of tea on the table

Jemima is sitting on the windowsill, staring out at the big, fluffy white flakes falling down. They're even settling on all the recently turned earth around these parts. This is madness. It's EASTER! It's my birthday next week! Snow at my birthday? Unheard of.

Two days ago, it was actually snowing, raining, and hailing all at once - and the sun was shining, too. Not quite during the snow, but during some of the hail. Madness I tell you.

What's it like where you are?

Posted by Robynn at 11:21 AM | Permalink | 7 cups of tea on the table

Finally, we re-open. The promised new products aren't up yet but will be in a couple of days. (It wasn't just the internet gremlins that were at work, delivery gremlins kept things held up too. Grrr!)

The new space is utterly lovely. Still a mess, but lovely. I can't wait to open my doors for a knitting party - what fun we'll have!

Of course, I've spent the past few, internet-less weeks constantly thinking of things to blog, and then forgetting them. (Notes are for wussies. Really organised, efficient, reliably blogging wussies. The present definition of "wuss" is clearly "someone who isn't me".) I have also spent the time working really hard on lots of things - including an insane amount of household stuff; furniture shopping, unpacking etc - and it amazes me that I am still not up to date, but there it is, I'm not. (I am really enjoying doing it all though. Isn't that funny. Ordinary little chores like filing are suddenly quite charming, just because I'm doing them in this delicious new home.) So I am not going to walk around taking and uploading photos now, to show you everything, because there is still STUFF TO DO. But I do have some great stuff to show you. And thanks to the magic of the Hypercyberinterwebnet (never, never take it for granted, knitters!)... show you I will.

Just not today.

Love you, though! Mwah, mwah!

Posted by Robynn at 12:17 PM | Permalink | 2 cups of tea on the table

Some things to do... (observe the in-trays!)

Some packing...

Some knitting almost finished...

Some knitting just waiting for me to darn the ends in...

And some recently completed knitting, already well on its way to being loved to death.

Bizy. Backsun.

Posted by Robynn at 11:30 AM | Permalink | 4 cups of tea on the table

Well, we now know exactly when we'll be taking up our new abode (8 March), and we also know that alas, the gods have decreed we will be sans internet until 14 March. So be warned: the shop will be shut for a week, from around midday on Thursday 6 March (to give me time to post those final orders). I am taking this as an opportunity to unpack and get everything beautifully organised before re-connecting to the world and fighting fires again. Will this work out? We'll see...

Meanwhile, I've finished Armin's lovely Wollmeise socks, and I've almost finished my handspun handwarmers, but the latter need ends to be woven in and the former are right now enclosing the dear man's feet as he sleeps and feels sorry for himself. (He's just gotten a nasty dose of the flu - just a few weeks after recovering from a bad cold. He's allowed to feel sorry for himself.) So no photos.

Time I went for my morning run now. I've been fantastically disciplined about running lately, ever since mid-December in fact. (At first, part of the motivation was knowing I'd need strong thighs for skiing.) I feel terribly pleased with myself and my thighs of steel - or if not actual steel, then at least thinly beaten aluminium - but would like the universe to know that I think things are Very Poorly Arranged when all this exercise serves only to give me fabulously toned thighs, completely hidden under a thick blanket of fat. (I hear that to remove said fat blanket, "eating less" might be an option, or at least "eating less cookies". I find this an extraordinarily unappealing idea.) Anyway, so I'm off for my run. And then it's time for breakfast. Mmmm, hot cross buns...

Posted by Robynn at 08:58 AM | Permalink | 5 cups of tea on the table

If you get the newsletter, you will know we're going to be moving at the end of the month. Yay! This is very exciting, because it's not just a new home for Purlescence, it's a new home for me too. And I think it'll be rather a lovely one. Also, I have moved home A Lot in my life, and have developed a certain tendency to restlessness after the first year in any one place. We've spent close to three years in this flat, which is the longest I have ever gone between moves. Don't get me wrong, I am increasingly intrigued by the exotic notion of "settling down", but it doesn't come naturally. I like moving.

But of course moving is also, well, rather a lot of work. And this will be the first time I have to move a business as well as my home. It's all rather intimidating. So, as much as I hate to neglect you so badly, I'm afraid the blog will continue to be pretty quiet over the next few weeks. I promise it'll be worth it in the end. (More yarn! Really, what could be wrong with that?) I'm just going to be a little bit frazzled until then.

I leave you with a question. Recently, people keep asking to see my knitting (a lace scarf), and when I spread it out for them, they say in tones of great surprise: "Oh! It's pretty!" Or, "That's actually quite nice!" Now:
(a) Do you also get this reaction from muggles?
(b) How do you feel about it?

On the face of it, it's a little bit insulting, and I'm always taken aback at how they don't realise that. (What, you thought I'd be making something ugly?) But actually I quite like it. It's so brilliantly honest and unfiltered: they apparently have a prejudice against knitting, yet they discover that it's not what they think. Still, though... is odd.

Posted by Robynn at 07:28 PM | Permalink | 5 cups of tea on the table

Last year, I came to the St Brigid party rather late. So this year it was in my diary. No danger of missing it!

Except, um, I did. (Because I was really busy and social on Saturday, and managed not to turn my pc on all day. Day off, so overrated.)

No, wait, not overrated at all! Yesterday was NOT my day off, but I was really struggling to be productive. Lots of going round in circles, lots of "meh". Progress has been made, but it's sort of hard to tell. Why could this be?

Turns out, it was SUPER INTERNATIONAL PYJAMA DAY! Now how could I fight global vibes like that? All wrong, I tell you. All wrong.

Sigh.

Clearly I am not equipped to take these things too seriously (and next year must prepare, complete with choosing poem, well in advance). So this nonsense-lover gives you a little bit of homespun nonsense. (With thanks to Orata for being the first to have the courage to post her own work.)

God in Wonderland

The Mock Turtle sheds another tear, and
Time sulks through another era.
Not to be outdone
God makes another universe
(Thinking, no doubt, it could be worse)
And wonders who has won,

And who will give the comfits out
And what he thought he was about
Not to keep it simple,
For the Dodo announces, looking pained,
Comfort can never be regained,
But God may keep the thimble.

Continue reading "HOW do I miss these things?!!!" »

Posted by Robynn at 08:28 AM | Permalink | 1 cups of tea on the table

Well, maybe not every minute. There was a particularly bad day soon after arrival when I got cocky and then got scared and... well. Let's just say, if/when we ever have children, at least Armin will have had plenty of experience in dealing with toddler tantrums.

But we had a wonderful, wonderful week. Davos was of course full of important people talking about changing the world, which meant it wasn't full of holiday makers, which meant the slopes were pretty empty. The skies were blue, the snow was powdery and perfect... we couldn't have asked for more. I worked pretty damn hard at learning to ski, and I am proud of my progress. The last day, indeed, saw me ski all the way down - from the very peak of the Jakobshorn (3,000m above sea level) to the base (1,540m). That's a lotta mountain, people.

We also took a little side excursion involving a 3.5km toboggan run, and a lot of screaming. Really, a lot. Not from me. That was all Philippa. Well, mostly Philippa. (Apparently, sheer terror gets you a ride on the back of Armin's sled - more speed, less worry. I'm jealous!) It also involved very wet bums (why on earth didn't we think to wear our ski gear? What made us think we could go tobogganing - at night - in jeans?). So we ended up waiting for our bus in a bar full of soldiers, downing a couple of schnapps to warm ourselves up (and recover from the trauma), and prompting the soldiers to comment (in German) that "these women drink like they're in the army!" Heh. That helped us to feel tough again.

Have a look at some pics... and then indulge me as I rant a little (hm... maybe not so very little) about my idiocy in packing holiday knitting.

Continue reading "And when I say "survived", I mean of course "loved every minute"" »

Posted by Robynn at 09:17 AM | Permalink | 2 cups of tea on the table

I'm back! And apparently I can ski a little bit. Hurrah!

More shortly. There's quite a bit to catch up on...

Posted by Robynn at 04:09 PM | Permalink | 13 cups of tea on the table

Wish me luck, chaps. I'm about to head off into the snowy wastes of, um, Switzerland (so that's snowy wastes with lots of chalets serving fondue and rumpunsch, then) and engage in death-defying antics like standing at the top of a very, very gentle slope and whimpering.

I've only been skiing once before, and that was just for two days. I thoroughly enjoyed it - obviously, or I wouldn't be going back; then again if I didn't enjoy it I think my Swiss-bred husband might desert me - but found the whole idea of strapping enormously unwieldy planks to your feet, standing in a thoroughly unnatural posture and trying to head downhill while at all costs avoiding actually pointing your feet downhill... well, unnatural. And terrifying. It's a good thing I wore sunglasses, because otherwise a lot of the photos would show me trying not to cry. Actually they still show me trying not to cry, they just don't show it very clearly. Yay sunglasses.

Anyway, so here we go again. I'm looking forward to it, honestly...

Eszter returns for a second tour of duty as the needle elf, so your shopping needs will be taken care of. I'll be back on Monday 28th. Wish me luck.

Posted by Robynn at 08:21 AM | Permalink | 5 cups of tea on the table

Once upon a time, when the world was young and I was a new knitter, beginning a project was simple. (Well, apart from all the planning and starting and frogging and all, on which I have already commented.) You picked up your needles, and you picked up a ball of wool, and you got going.

(It was always "wool", never yarn, even if the closest it had ever been to animal life was the sheepish expression on the shop assistant's face as she explained that this was in fact 100% pure plastic. And yes, I knit with acrylic. Partly because it was cheaper, but mostly because it was there. Actual wool was quite hard to find, especially in any colours other than oatmeal. And scratchy. For years I had a very well entrenched prejudice against wool. I didn't exactly like acrylic either, though, so I developed a quite irrational devotion to cotton - irrational only in that, long after I should have known better, I still thought cotton could do anything. I didn't want to know about heaviness, or lack of elasticity, or any of those pesky details. And in there lies a sad, sad tale... but never mind. Cotton was my one true love. Imagine my delight, and destruction, on discovering silk! And then suddenly - more recently than I'd like to admit - it dawned on me, accompanied by choirs of angels singing Hallelujah, that wool could be smooth and soft. I found merino. The world is a brighter, happier place for it.)

Where was I?

Yes. Balls. Wool Yarn came in balls. And then, when I went to the factory shops of Cape Town, it came in cones. Great big cones of machine knitting yarn - laceweight, essentially - which I wound off onto toilet roll holders so that I could knit two strands together. This was of course a great pain, but was the sacrifice I paid for getting really, really cheap yarn.

Which is why I got quite confused on coming to London, buying screeds of Summer Tweed (cotton and silk, people! Rapture!), and realising that these expensive little buggers had to be wound up before use.* The cheek! Wasn't I paying Rowan to do that for me? Who did these skeins think they were?

And then I discovered handpainted yarns, and as we all know, my doom was sealed. Almost everything I knit, now, requires winding before I can so much as cast on. So I got a ball winder, and a swift, and I set them up, and a few hours at a time, I set about winding most of my stash. So that I could be ready for anything at a moment's notice. It's the only sensible thing to do, right?

Wrong. Turns out yarn doesn't like to be wound up. It likes to be loosely squished in lovely cosy skeins. I have hurt my yarn. Woe!

So recent purchases have been left be-skeined until such time as I have a fairly immediate plan for them. Well, Sunday before last I was very conscious of a looming time when I'd be finished Armin's cosy socks and would want another pair to cast on. Plus, I'm going away on a short holiday at the end of this week (prepare for the return of Eszter the Needle Elf!), and want a lace shawl to take with me. (Maximum knitting time, minimum luggage room.) And I have these samples that must be test driven. And one pair of socks might go too quickly, better get ready for two. And I need more handwarmers. And I'm dying to knit up Freyalyn's gorgeous handspun into something warm and magical. It was time to do a little winding. Not too much, of course; just those things I could reasonably expect to be starting pretty soon.

Looking at that, and considering my recent rate of progress, I suspect I'm getting a little overambitious. Especially since all this winding was done before recent Posh Yarn and Get Knitted acquisitions, not to mention a certain lovely Christmas present. So I'm not even up to date. I guess I shoulda left some of this in the skein. Sigh...

_____
* Well. First I knit an entire man-size pullover, with stranded colourwork border, from skeins laid flat out on the floor. We will not speak of that.

Posted by Robynn at 10:54 AM | Permalink | 3 cups of tea on the table

Gabrielle - a very lovely, warm and funny person who I'm lucky enough to have living near me and knitting with my occasional coffee clutch - gave me a pair of skeins of fabulous Indigo Moon sock yarn for Christmas - enough for a pair of boot socks, which she knows I prefer.

It is perfect. It is soft, durable (at least it looks that way), fine enough to make a very elegant lacy knee sock, and just a wonderful, wonderful colour. (Apparently this is partly an accident, because the shopping was done by a far distant chap dispatched to a Vancouver shop with very particular instructions that he completely ignored. Doesn't matter. It's perfect.)

It's also perfect because this is one of only three knitting-related presents I've ever been given. My knitty friends generally seem to think I'm impossible to buy for on account of having all this fabulous stuff at my disposal, which is fair enough, and my non-knitty friends probably wouldn't dare presume to know what I might want, which is also fair enough. But twice before now, I have been given knitty gifts.

The last time was when I left a former employer; among my assorted leaving gifts were three balls of carefully chosen yarn. The colours were gorgeous (rich sea greens - a lot like the Indigo Moon, actually - and peacock blue and chocolate brown); the fibres were soft. They were also... well... on the novelty side. Distinctly on the novelty side. One was Firefly: exquisitely pretty, if you like shiny ladder yarns. One was something furry. The other was something furry and sparkly. Altogether the kinds of yarn that would appeal to non-knitters, for sheer surprise value, and that I unfortunately have absolutely no use for. (So possibly I should be glad that they don't buy me yarn more often.)

The first time was three years ago. I had gotten thoroughly frustrated with seeing gorgeous wooden needles in the pages of Vogue Knitting et al, and gave Armin fairly specific instructions. He dutifully delivered a pair of Lantern Moons and a pair of Turn of the Century cocobolo needles for Christmas. In due course I cast on with them. Oh yes, I said. Lovely. Very nice. What a treat.

All was fine until I cast on for another project, in a size for which I had only my old, perfectly serviceable plastic needles.

OH NO I said. I CANNOT TOLERATE this. WHY are there no UK stores selling Lantern Moon and the like to poor deprived European knitters!

And that's how it all started...

Posted by Robynn at 06:15 PM | Permalink | 3 cups of tea on the table

Or, well, not, since I took yesterday off instead, to join assorted Ravellers on a jaunt to Get Knitted. It's a good thing I've just got in all those lovely piles of Handmaiden etc in my own stockroom, or I would surely have come away with far too much gorgeousness.

That? Why, that's nothing. No, really. It doesn't count. That's not stash, that's just necessaries. It's all from The List. (You know. That mental list of things you want to make pretty soon and need specific yarns for? That's not stash, right? That's just... ingredients.) It's a pullover, a washcloth and a headband. All totally legit.

Although it does add rather to my Ravelry stash guilt list. As do these.

Last week's Posh haul. Apparently I am helpless in the face of smoky/bronzey/purpley/reddy lusciousness. Helpless.

Anyway. Good day, yesterday. You would have enjoyed it. Especially the road trip with lovely volunteer driver Gabrielle, Mel and Emms. (Cheesy 80s pop may or may not have been involved... we'll never tell.) And lunch with new friends Shannon and Jacqui. (It was particularly good to meet Jacqui, one of my favourite customers. I feel so privileged to be in the knitting business; you'd think that an online shop doesn't give you much opportunity to get to know your customers, but with friendly people like Jacqui, that's not entirely true.)

Good times, ladies, thank you. Good times.

Now, back to work.

Posted by Robynn at 09:40 AM | Permalink | 1 cups of tea on the table

Spit splicing totally works!

File under "Things the whole world knew but Robynn never really believed because the one time she tried it she did it wrong".

I got quite ridiculously excited, tugging at that little bit of alpaca that was previously two little bits of alpaca. Wow. No knots! My life is transformed!

Posted by Robynn at 11:53 AM | Permalink | 3 cups of tea on the table

Apparently Christmas is just one week away. Can you believe it? One week! Where did the year go, and other traditional greetings of the season. The thing that made me realise how very soon it is (and hence, how I really must get myself to the shops stat, before all the food is gone) was seeing the flood of orders abate. That can only mean one thing: it's practically upon us!

How are you celebrating? I'm quite looking forward to this year. It will be the first time Armin and I are alone for Christmas, and I'm really very keen on having a lovely quiet cosy day together. There will be big festive group dinners for us, just not on the day itself. Perfect! I'm thinking there'll be gluhwein, and duvet time, and knitting, and hopefully some marathon DVD watching. (Is it possible to watch all three Lord of the Rings DVDs* in one sitting? Stay tuned!) And of course mountains of food. I may actually bake. And most importantly - no computers will be switched on all day. I wonder if we can manage that?

I think I'll need to make sure I have a proper break - even if it's just for one day - because there is so very much to prepare for in 2008. The postie keeps bringing me exciting things like these...

No, I'm not changing my "enough yarn" policy so soon. (Though I hear there's going to be a Posh Yarn sale after Christmas. Don't expect my resolve to withstand such temptation!) These are lovely little samples. Oh, 2008 is going to be so much fun...

_____
* Not the extras, of course. That'd require a whole extra week.

Posted by Robynn at 02:39 PM | Permalink | 6 cups of tea on the table

I have too much yarn.

No, of course I don't, are you kidding? No. I don't mean that. I was just testing it out. What it feels like to say those words... I'm still here. The sky hasn't fallen. I feel a little queasy, but okay, really.

Too much yarn.

I mean it's a ridiculous notion, isn't it? Yarn. Too much. They just don't go together. It's nonsensical. Still, though... I do have quite a lot of yarn.

Some of it was acquired pretty recently - even postdating my most recent yarn-diet thoughts. It's just that, well, there was that swap; I had to buy some Posh Yarn for my swappee (imagine! She'd never heard of it! These poor Yanks), and honestly I couldn't not get some for myself too, it would have been far too hard.

And then I got some Wollmeise for Armin, who was requesting some fat cosy socks like mine, and of course it would have been very wasteful not to get some sock yarn at the same time. Got to maximise shipping costs from Germany, right?

And I responded to a pathetic plea for help on Ravelry from someone destashing so that she could raise some much needed funds for, um, more stash...

And I got this great sock yarn from Krafty Koala because...
Because...
Well, actually, I can't right now remember how I rationalised it. But I'm really glad I did, because look how purty!

So all of that was clearly very necessary and reasonable. But. Um. I appear to have 53 yarns in my stash. That's pretty much FIFTY THREE projects. Including tradeables - yarn that I don't even really want any more. As devoted to yarn as I am, as deeply as I believe in the creativity liberating powers of a healthy stash, I do have to wonder whether that's gone a bit beyond necessary and reasonable.

Similarly, I have a shelf full of books that I haven't yet read. I love books. I love having them around. I love reading them. But why is it that this shelf only ever seems to get fuller - not emptier?

I love my books, I love my yarn. I don't want less of it, exactly. But I want to feel a little bit less... greedy. To be frank: less of a consumer. I guess I'm even more aware of it all at this time of year... there is so much STUFF being advertised. So much pressure to buy, to eat, to consume, to waste. Doesn't it make you feel a little bit sick?

I bet you know what I mean. And coming from a shop owner, this may sound a little hypocritical... but I'd like you not to go buying too much, okay? I reckon there isn't too much wastage with the stuff I sell at the moment - we tend to buy the needles we need, after all, and to use them. Nobody's ever heard of a needle stash. Next year, though, there will be yarn. There will be fabulous, amazing, scrumptious yarn. Yarn that will make me sigh with delight as I wrap each order. Yarn that will make you squeal when you see it online, and squeal louder when you unpack it. It will be tempting. Really tempting. And heavens, I'm not going to tell you to deny yourself. But maybe... just think carefully before you load up that basket. It's too beautiful to go to waste lying in a drawer somewhere. Plan your projects, and buy accordingly. And then show me what you're making. Deal?

Posted by Robynn at 11:13 AM | Permalink | 9 cups of tea on the table

If you're in the London area, you'll know how wintry it's turned lately. And to make matters worse, our heating has been gradually failing. It's now completely not working. (We have a humorously named "power shower", so we do at least get warm water dribbling over us and can keep clean, but actual heat? Not so much.) Which all contributed to making me feel a little bit more sorry for myself than usual this week.

Until I got a little package of comfort in the post.

I've never taken part in a swap before (various reasons, and I still don't expect to do this regularly, but oh my, it was rather fun). What a wonderful first swap package! I was trading with Ravelry's happycat, in a "hands across the sea" trade instigated on the Completely Pointless and Arbitrary group. (A very, very fine waste of time that group is - in a good way.) I had said something rather rude about American "chocolate" (having once had a rather traumatic experience with Hershey's kisses), and she decided to prove to me that they could do better.

Oh my.

See Jemima there? Even the cat couldn't resist. I got a big box of Joe-Joe's - apparently an annual special thingy; very yummy minty chocolate cookies - plus a small box of incredibly pretty Marble Hill chocolates (I still haven't tasted them, I'm just looking at them happily) - plus... the fudge. Oh. My. The fudge.

I'm really very fond of fudge. And I'm really quite indecently fond of this fudge. And now that I've read up a bit about it, having looked for linky goodness to show you how great it is...

Well. They make ice cream. And they're how many miles away from me? Oh woe, woe!

Never mind. The fudgey goodness that I do have is entirely awe inspiring enough. (I'm going to have to keep a very beady eye on Armin. I made the mistake of giving him a taste.) And besides the lovely chocolatey treats, there was of course knitty goodness to warm me even further!

Some lovely handpainted sock yarn called Jubilee by Misty Mountain. This colourway is Navajo Sunset - bringing some much needed desert warmth into my cold, cold home. Plus there's a lovely little test skein of Claudia's handpainted (ooh!), plus these incredibly dinky little stitch markers:

How cute is that giraffe! Thank you, Robin! Very well done indeed.

Posted by Robynn at 09:14 AM | Permalink | 2 cups of tea on the table

I'm not sure I should admit to having spent a single minute of the past three weeks doing anything but eat, sleep and work (after all, I should have been blogging with those precious minutes!), but in fact, I have.

Two weeks ago I was supposed to be celebrating a friend's 30th birthday by taking part in a selection of activities that I would never, ever normally bother with. Quad biking. Clay pigeon shooting. Axe throwing.

(Axe throwing?!)

But, owing to a dramatically unfortunate alignment of the planets, malicious actions on the part of the train company and possibly a small degree of personal idiocy, I didn't make it. Instead, after two hours of travel, Armin and I found ourselves in Brighton. With no plans. In a town we have both visited, and loved, but have never visited together. On a beautiful, clear, crisp and sparkling autumn afternoon. An afternoon that could, and possibly should, have seen us return dutifully home, to work on the many, many worky things we had to do... but an afternoon that was already officially accounted for.

Now, what would you do?

We went on funfair rides.

We ate fish 'n chips on the pier.

We introduced the sock* to the sea.

We wandered the Lanes, and put an end to a lifetime's questing for the Perfect Red Lipstick. (It's Mac's Russian Red. No no, no need to thank me. I did it for all of us.)

We had afternoon tea.

And then, just when we were ready to turn around and go back up the hill to the station, we trotted down to the beach for one last goodbye to the sea... and discovered the perfect sunset. Over the old pier. With amazing, breathtaking flocks of seagulls.

Come on, you know by now that there's no way I and my little cameraphone could do anything with that view. But somebody did. And maybe soon he'll upload them so we can all admire. The Cape Town photos, too. (I don't know why I think that nagging him on my knitting blog is going to help...)

_____
* Spiral boot socks, from Interweave, in Posh Yarn Emily. Loving them. Just about to turn the heel on the second one.

Posted by Robynn at 11:41 PM | Permalink | 3 cups of tea on the table

Ah, you're all still out there! Hurrah! Thanks for sticking around.

Emily (so glad you're coming to SnB day! Have you seen there's an amazing after party?) asks me what I'm planning to do with all that silk. Frankly I'm not sure this is a polite question. It's a little close to what Armin asked me - oh so innocently - at the time of acquisition:

"Is it a good idea to buy yarn without knowing what you're going to do with it?"

*cough*

Yes. Yes it is. It's, um, artistic raw material. It's inspiration in physical form. It is probably essential for knitterly creativity.

Probably.

So anyway, I'm hoping to get maybe two scarves/shawls and one wrap-style cardi out of it. That may be a little ambitious; I don't mind scaling back. We'll see. The important thing to remember is that I could not have been expected to hold back, because:

1. It is silk.
2. It was on sale. (Well, some of it was, and Eirwen gave me a fantastic exhibitor's discount on the rest.)
3. Seriously, did you see those colours?

Case closed.

Posted by Robynn at 09:33 PM | Permalink | 5 cups of tea on the table

...when bloggers have a habit of disappearing without warning, then coming back and apologising profusely, but doing exactly the same thing again pretty soon?

Yeah. Me too.

[embarrassed cough]

Um, so, hello kittens. I've missed you. No, really. Thank you all so very muchfor your comments, and emails, and for stopping by the stand. I know it seems like it meant nothing, since I've pretty much ignored you all, but it meant a lot. A Lot.

And as previously mentioned, I had a great time at the show. Hooray for knitters! You really do make the best customers ever. Special cheers go out to Gabrielle, who brought us champagne at the end of our first day, and to Judy, who brought a spectacularly large pile of excellent chocolate, and a delicious bottle of French wine to go with it. Now I ask you. Can you imagine anything like that happening at a computer expo? Didn't think so.

Another highlight was hearing people talk about the Storytellers patterns. Listen up, you lovely and talented folk who provided them: knitters LOVE them. Seriously. Love. And look! Here's a Cheshire Cat Stole (or scarf, as it may be) in the wild, courtesy of Michelle!

Let's also take a moment to applaud my very lovely husband, who proved that he's not just a pretty face (and pretty handy with the camera and the webby stuff, too), he's also the number 1 guy to have on your side in moments of extreme stress and danger - like, um, setting up an expo stand. (He's done it before, as it happens, but never quite such a crowded one.) And he can talk to knitters about needles and bags and things pretty competently. And he almost didn't show his inner state of terror at all... Apart from a minor crisis on day 2, which resulted in me not being allowed to take a lunch break on day 3. By day 4 he was mostly over that, and I was permitted to eat a sandwich 20m away from the stand.

I did make a break for it during a few quiet moments - mostly at the end of each day. That's when I got to meet people and - oh yes - do a little shopping. It's possible I have a minor addiction to silk. I don't think I can call it a problem though. I mean, does this look like a problem to you?

Some Hipknits, some *cough, splutter* - look, technically, a metric crapload is still "some", okay? - Knitwitches, and a skein of Hummingbird. I'm keen to try alpaca socks. Warm and toasty? I think so.

Anyway, that was my first show. As you may have noticed, it took me some time (please see above on for usage notes on "some") to recover and catch up, but I survived. I had a good time. And I'm going to do it again.

In fact, while I have a year to prepare for the next Ally Pally... I have just 10 days to prepare for the next show. You're going to be there, right? Because it's going to be AWESOME.

(I'm having Wayne's World flashbacks. And I've never even seen Wayne's World.)

Posted by Robynn at 11:19 PM | Permalink | 5 cups of tea on the table

So who here reads January One? Who is as flummoxed as me by the rudeness of not-that-strangers?

Forget that the whiner actually knows her - that does add to the rudeness, sure, but it doesn't change the fundamental conceptual gap I'm seeing. People often say that the hardest customers to please are the ones for free stuff, and I don't understand why that should be, but it does seem to be the case. Somehow when something's free, people seem to have even more sense of entitlement than when they pay for it. Go figure.

But what really puzzles me is the different ways readers perceive these funny things we call blogs. In trying to explain blogs to the blogless, I generally describe them as a kind of informal opinion column crossed with emails to friends. If you consider them purely as columns, then one can sort of understand those commenters who feel the need to provide unsolicited feedback on the direction of the column itself - much as the Guardian Weekend magazine's letters column is always full of people moaning about the worth or otherwise of various departments. And even though the content on blogs is provided for free, it's possible to see that this might be sincerely meant. Constructive criticism and all that.

Deliberately disguising your identity, though, suggests that the commenter knows herself to be out of line. That she is consciously going beyond constructive criticism of a "product", to criticism of a friend. Of course there are always occasions when it's totally valid and helpful, maybe even necessary, to criticise a friend. But you wouldn't do it publicly, and anonymously, would you?

This is what is so strange to me. There are of course plenty of blogs that do not aim to be personal, or friendly. But I can't imagine a knitting blog - even one of a very narrow focus, one that reveals nothing of the writer's life beyond her fibre projects - that wasn't personal. Most knitblogs go beyond that, opening a window on the knitter's life, introducing him or her to the rest of us, offering and inviting friendship. I don't read knitblogs in the same way that I read newspaper columns, or any blog created solely to comment on the outside world (from cuteoverload to make!). I visit them, as I would visit a friend. And just as my friends may have good days and bad days, may be interested in (even consumed by) different things at different times, I take variations in focus and mood in my stride. Can you imagine lashing out at a friend, in public, because she's had the cheek to try talking about some huge news in her life that I don't personally care about?

Neither can I.

Posted by Robynn at 10:54 AM | Permalink | 2 cups of tea on the table

Another finished object: the moebius! Yay! Photos are still postponed. We will not talk about my incredible slackness. We will instead talk about books.

Right, em, so what I meant to say was: this (pilfered from Orata) is apparently a Librarything list of the most common unread books. Which is a distinctly iffy premise; I'm sure there are squillyuns of unreadable books that remain, thankfully, obscure. But I can't resist posting it because unlike the other such memes I've seen - 100 best scifi novels and the like; you will note that you've never seen such a list on this blog, and now you know why - in this list, I think there'll be a fair bit of bold type.

Bold = read, italics = started but not finished, strikethrough = couldn't stand.

Continue reading "Fully booked" »

Posted by Robynn at 08:52 PM | Permalink | 3 cups of tea on the table

A case study for Ms Morrisette and others.

Are the following scenarios ironic, or not?

1. You arrive at the airport with time to spare... until you realise that, despite having carefully checked presence of tickets and passport, you are missing an essential travel document. Causing you to miss the flight entirely, incur a £75 idiot tax and slice two days off your holiday.
Answer: No. An event that is both unexpected and undesirable is not necessarily ironic. Infuriating, yes, and depressingly stupid... but not ironic.

2. Having decided to spend your suddenly free day before departure at the movies, having found that the movie schedule leaves you with 90 minutes betwen movie 1 and movie 2, and having brought along the Neverending Wedding Shrug of Doom to occupy those 90 minutes, you discover in minute 1 that it's time to cast off.
Answer: Yes. This can fairly be called ironic, providing as it does a neat and potentially humorous juxtaposition between what was expected (hours of excruciatingly dull knitting) and what actually transpired (no knitting at all).

I hope this has helped. We'll be looking forward to a more literate follow-up and clarification on your next album, then.

Wait...
That would imply we might actually look forward to an Alanis album.
No.

Posted by Robynn at 12:14 AM | Permalink | 2 cups of tea on the table

Today marks the start of an exciting new adventure. No, it's not my holiday, that's only a trip home - while lovely, not exactly an adventurous choice. No, the adventure is my experiment in holiday staffing.

Meet Eszter, the Needle Packing Elf. Eszter will have the unique pleasure of not only looking after my two extremely fluffy and demanding cats for the next two and a half weeks, she will also be looking after you, my not nearly so demanding friends and customers.

Eszter is a smart lass (not to mention an extremely nice one) and has gamely taken up the needles,* but while she obviously understands the basic knitting concept, she doesn't have much expertise. She'll take care of your orders and ensure they get to you promptly and well packaged, but please be patient if you need any advice or have a more complicated problem that needs solving. I'll help you as soon as I can, and will be back in the saddle on the 25th.

Meanwhile, be good to Eszter (she's on the usual Purlescence email address if you want to say hi!), and I'll leave you, slightly randomly, with seven things I have learnt from watching TV hospital shows.**

Continue reading "Meet the Elf" »

Posted by Roby