Monthly Archives: May 2018


Driven distracted by my life… endless cleaning and cat looking after and no work I decided to dye up a 100g ball of sock yarn |I had in hand. I used this packet of sweeties from Candersons a traditional sweet shop in Leith as my colour inspiration.  I did it without a warping board so the yarn was draped around my garden to get the right length. It was a really long repeat about 12 metres. Then I dyed it on my table. I’m pretty sure my maths was out on Sunday evening (tiredness) so the yarn is with a crafter from my craft group who is a demon sock knitter so hoping to see how it knits up soon.

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Titles St Marks – Venice

Yesterday I had brunch with a friend. She complained about getting ‘young person’s’ mixed up in her team. She said ‘They all look they same weird eyebrows up here, fake eyelashes and a bland face without a mark of experience on them’. Meetings she reports have the oldies heave with world weariness of painfully acquired experience of the word.While the youngies look as if they are coming from another planet. As an embattled feminist of about 43 years  I feel her pain. I sit scrolling through twitter either rolling my eyes in the total incredulity of young feminists (that’s if they will even accept the term) moving onto total rage when they cheerfully spend time colluding and encouraging their own oppression and erasure. Well me dear I’ve had enough. I’m a woman who knows stuff. And I’m pissed of being the one who is supposed to shut up about it. I confessed to friend I’m planning on becoming ‘redoubtable’ with a steel tipped umbrella. I threw a tantrum and Christmas when I didn’t get a gun licence. My granny had a gun (she was a spy) she was very redoubtable. She would have eaten the feeble young for breakfast. 

In the evening I decided to go to Portobello and walk by the sea and knit on the grounds we may never have another nice evening this summer. Waiting for the bus to come home. Some youths appeared to hang about at the bus stop. One started sparking  flint sending sparks all over his companions. Eventually I pointed out that that the artificial fibres they were mostly wearing would melt onto their skin necessitating a visit to A&E. This did not do down well with Master Flint. So I said I didn’t care as I would not be visiting A&E. He moved away as his bus came to another stop.  Then one of the ones left at my stop thanked me saying they didn’t know that about the fibres melting. So perhaps there is some hope?


Finally I went to Portobello to try the Boss Bagels which I’d heard so much about. My life has been simply a long desperate search for bagels as good as Kaufies Bagels in Highlands North Johannesburg which marked my 70’s childhood. When bagels appeared in shops here we got very excited but on eating we discovered a doughy bun with a hole in it. Brick Lane in London I did a taste test in the 1990’s and decided the bakery which was not open 24 hours had the edge. Some years ago I was overjoyed to meet someone from Joey’s who confirmed that I was right Kaufies Bagels are the best.

These did not come up to Kaufies… the crust not crusty enough… an ok bagel but not worth a bus trip. The photo walk I did with a friend was much more worth while! So my Yiddish group was right. We had a quick discussion at the end of our meeting on Wednesday, on this establishment, and the consensus was Brick Lane. Back to making my own using Claudia Roden’s recipe. If you want to go all instagrammy and make them rainbow before the second rise divide up the dough into 6 or 7 pieces. Add a scraping or two of gel colouring and kneed it in. You will have to wash and scrub hands between each colour being added. Then try and roll the colours into long rolls, cut them down and add a twist of colour together while shaping. This is enormous fun to take to a birthday celebration. I just eat with butter or a touch of marmite to add that British element.

So … I’ve been thinking about stash… (above is Kaffe Fasetts poppies pattern done in stash acrylic and not finished yet but then it was a sort of experiment). Thinking about the thriftiness of using up stash and reusing. I’ve been unravelling yarn which has been donated to me from other people’s projects and thinking what I can make with it. I’m also trying to make my first cardi but am having worrisome worries about the pattern and getting it to fit me. And and and. And stash. Then my mind began to think of other resources like energy. and I began to think about how I’ve over used my stash of energy at least for nearly two years now possibly longer. I’m unwilling to admit where my limits are in terms of energy. I make plans – I follow through – I am responsible. Even if the result is that I lie around feeling like death warmed up. I am emerging very very slowiy from a bought of illness. And even then I saw a tweet about a conference on Monday in another city and thought ‘oh it would be so nice to go’. Sheer MADNESS!!! So when will I learn and what do I do to create my own stash of energy? I’m trying to read more books. Cut down on things. One thing a day must be my mantra. I use my kitchen timer so I pace my housework. I try to eat well (but cooking  preparing and buying food all consume much energy). I’m thinking about Julia Cameron’s exhortation of the artist to ‘Fill their well’ and I’m trying to think of things that do that for me. Playing with colour without the expectation of productivity, reading enjoyable books, staying off the screen more, pottering slowly and gently.