Well not really buried. Just tucked away in a cupboard with a lot of memories. Mum (for whom I named this blog) had hands that were never idle and churned out rugs like these at a rate of knots. Any scrap of yarn was fair game and wound up thoroughly crocheted into one of Mum's rugs. We lost Mum thirteen years ago and, unable to bear parting with her beautiful rugs, I collected them for safekeeping. This year I finally got brave, dragged them out and offered them to a few family members, keeping one for myself. Mum's rugs are a little more special, I feel, because Mum was born with three fingers missing from her non-dominant hand. I never discovered anything that those seven busy fingers couldn't do. Here are some of Mum's rugs for you to look at. Our Canadian rellies have arrived. We will be looking at our country with refreshed eyes as we take them about for the next few weeks. Happy Australia Day to all. Bye now, until next time.
Pulling my gardening gloves on to do a bit of weeding, it became obvious that something was already occupying one of the fingers. It felt a bit prickly, like perhaps a bit of dried grass, so I thought I'd investigate. You remember that thing you used to do when you were little? You know, look under the bed before you got into it at night, or just check in the wardrobe to make sure there were no aliens/boogey men/evil goblins (strike out whichever doesn't apply) then make sure the door was firmly shut. Well I usually do the equavilant of that with gardening gloves, just to ensure that they are not harbouring some kind of insect world fugitive. But I didn't do it this time, and you guessed it, something had claimed prior occupation. Poor little thing was no match for my great big fist, however, and came off second best. It's only a little house spider. They never get any bigger than this (her legs are curled up beneath her) and are not at all aggressive, in fact they're very timid. Given to building their home in cracks around doors and windows, they usually duck out of sight when I approach, so I can't imagine what made this one choose to take up residence in my glove but it was definitely a poor life decision. You can bet I'll give my gloves a jolly good check out before I put them on in future. Bye for now, until next time.
This may not look like much to you but it is the result of the whole morning yesterday, spent at the band saw cutting out some prams for the end of the year. Next is a session at the sander to get rid of the rough edges then they must be assembled. The man of the house does that with me holding bits in place while he uses the nail gun. (which I can use but prefer not to) And finally there's the painting. There's actually another ten to cut out. That'll keep us busy for most of the year. The band saw is my favourite tool in the workshop. I believe that if you can follow a line with a sewing machine then you can use a bandsaw. Mind you a sewing machine is a lot less nerve wracking - you need to concentrate with a bandsaw as mistakes on either wood or fingers can't be unpicked. The woodworking club is having an auction of no-longer-required machinery, the proceeds of which will be donated to the Flood Appeal. It's great to see so many folk wanting to help. We are having visitors from Canada next week. Much cleaning being done here though they already know that I am very untidy. I just hope I can remember where I've put things when I want them again. I had no idea I had so many knitting magazines. I'm being awfully good; the op-shop has had a couple of shipments so far and more to go. Gotta go now I can hear the man of the house weilding a vaccuum cleaner. Better go and do my share. Bye for now until next time
I have been looking for a copy of the Baby Surprise jacket by Elizabeth Zimmerman for a very long time. Having been a Zimmerman fan for several years, I knew the pattern had been printed in Vogue International back in Spring 2007 but a rummage through my back copies proved unsuccessful. Looking it up on the net I found that it had been printed in a couple of Zimmerman books and so sought the help of the local library who obligingly obtained a copy for me - purchased it especially which involved a six weeks wait as it had to come from America. Unfortunately the BSJ did not feature in that publication and so back to square one. Another internet hunt informed me that the Knitting Workshop was the book that I needed. (Yeah - that's what they said the last time about the other book) The man of the house (may all his camels have twins) decided that the book would make a good birthday present and ordered it for me at the local book shop - another six weeks wait. I have been hopping around on hot bricks (well not really but you know what I mean) waiting for the shipment to arrive and at last it has, and yes, it does have the BSJ in it along with a whole lot of other stuff that I just can't wait to find time to read. Elizabeth Zimmerman wrote her books in a very readable form, like a chat over a cup of coffee and I'm very glad that her daughter Meg Swansen has continued the work her mother started. We knitters are the better for it. I'm itching to get started on a BSJ but I'm being very good and finishing off the sweater I'm working on at present in order to avoid another UFO. If you could see my workroom you'd see the logic of that. I'm off now. There's knitting to be done. Bye for now until next time.
It's so easy to get caught up in the little things that ruffle our feathers. OK so I broke a tooth, I fret about my knitting not being quite what I want it to be, I hate my glasses - spectacles that is. Jolly things are a dreadful fit, slide down my nose, even fall off my face if I'm not careful. One of these days they'll land in the sink while I'm washing the dishes. But all these are minor, fixable irritations. I can get my tooth fixed, rip out the knitting, and get new specs. What I can't fix, and wish I could, are the images that flash across my telly as I watch the news each evening. I would love to be able to put out my hand and mend all those broken lives that are damaged by no action of their own. Right now my heart aches for those who are suffering at the mercy of the floods in our north. A radio report said that the Queensland floods cover an area the size of New South Wales. That's an awful lot of water, an awful lot of damage, an awful lot of heartbreak. Isn't is amazing? We humans think we're so clever with our technology - space travel, internet etc. but when nature decides to show her strength there is nothing we can do. My problems are so small by comparison. I'm off now, to have my lunch in my nice dry kitchen and give thanks that I have spectacles that enable me to see what I'm doing, and clean water with which to make my coffee. From a rather ancient Pollyanna, Bye for now until next time.