Larkin About

An interlude to the emotional turmoil. There was a big review article in one of last week's Evening Standards about a new book of Philip Larkin's letters. I don't know his poetry but there was an excerpt as something he'd written in a letter to Monica on 27 Nov 1968. I rather like it.

Morning, noon & bloody night,
Seven sodding days a week,
I slave at filthy work, that might
Be done by any book-drunk freak.
This goes on til I kick the bucket:
FUCK IT FUCK IT FUCK IT FUCK IT

Consumed by sadness

After a rather tumultuous day, Pooch and I have mutually decided that it's over.

I am as upset as I have ever been. I've lost my best friend as well as my husband. It is just so utterly sad.

Day 19

Here we arrive at Day 19, and what do we see? Different hair colour, everything else the same. Hmmm.

Pooch and I have been talking a bit more recently and spent some time together at the weekend and had dinner last night. We have been talking about what we feel is wrong and what we've been happy about. At the moment there seems to be an awful lot that is wrong. Plus there are things wrong that I didn't know were wrong which have only come up since we started talking about what was wrong. So to keep the marriage going we are going to have to rebuild it completely.

This echoes a comment a reader called "Lauri" left that said....

"Just remember that you don't have to make any permanent decision. You can choose what's OK for now, and choose something else later. FWIW, I've been married for 21 years and marriage is HARD. It's really hard. You're not alone in finding that relationship the most difficult thing you will ever do!"

This is something I've thought about quite a lot, along with something in a book I've been reading about the 'fit' between two people. The fit there was when you met will not necessarily always fit right. People change over time and so the fit between them is bound to change too. Some things, after a while, just don't fit anymore.


Having decided that there was no point going back to Relate for a third time, we're going back to Relate for a third time. I changed my mind after drinking Raspberry Shortcake cocktails with a friend who I have never known to willingly answer any direct question, but who is good at reflecting stuff back to you.

Raspberry Shortcake Cocktail

* 1 shot Amaretto

* 1 shot Tuoca (no I have no idea what this is either. Plus the internet thinks the factory that makes it is closing down. I think vanilla vodka would do fine)

* 1 shot Chambourd (raspberry liquer)

* Cranberry Juice

* Ice

* Bucket to drink it out of

So. There you go.

Red Hair

Done at Pimps and Pinups. I'm really happy with it!

What are you going to do?

This is what everyone keeps asking me. It's also what I keep asking myself. What am I going to do, what am I going to do, what am I going to do, like a train clikkity click clikkity click.

It is all absorbing and everytime I stop doing something else I come back to it. It's terribly annoying. Mum wants me to go down to hers in Exmoor and stroke the cat. 

I can't say I'm not tempted. But it's not like I'd be leaving the choo choo behind in London. 

It just seems like every mortgage advert or every woman with a pram is rubbing my face in it. I assume as a self-defence mechanism by brain has started associating things with older, safer memories. Writing on a flipchart at work I had the most vivid flashback of having a piano lesson at primary school. The teacher was telling me how important joined up writing was because it meant you could write faster. 

I can remember the uniform I was wearing, the room, the temperature, the piano, the weather - all so vividly. I must have been about 8. Or getting on the bus yesterday I was reminded of a time I saw an old man drop a glove from the top deck and dragged my sister off the bus 2 stops early much to her fury so I could call after him to pick it up.

Of course by the time we got off the bus someone else had already done this and Sian was absolutely outraged and complained to Mum when we got home. I guess I was maybe 14? There have been other things - none of which I had thought about for 15+ years but which are vividly flashing back to me at random moments. All completely and utterly pointless. 

To try and take my mind off things I've been ploughing on with the grid embroidery. This picture is pretty awful because of the lighting but you get the idea. 

When I last showed it there were only 2 squares - the 1 and the pretzel. The newer ones are fairly self-explanatory except perhaps the cherries. When I was in Covent Garden on saturday I stopped off at a specialists to get the best chocolate bar on earth. Cherry Ripe. 

I have actually emailed Cadburys begging them to start selling them here but no reply. They're only native to Australia. Anyway, hence cherries.

I really hate emotions. Really hate them. Bleh. 

Reality Check

I rather enjoyed yesterday. I was happy to be at the flat, knitting, embroidering and watching what proved to be a truly awesome Hell in a Cell. I ate a pie. I drank pepsi max. It was all good.

Today I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep. I was feeling somewhat glum and decided that the answer to happiness, as so many of us have told ourselves, lay in shopping. I would buy a pair of trainers the colour of a solar flare. 

Now I'm not someone who has lots of trainers. I have one pair at a time. They wear out and I get another one. I'm not saying I don't have lots of shoes, but only one pair of trainers. 

So I ventured out and hit Covent Garden where there are eleventy squillion trainer shops. Turns out trainers the colour of a solar flare are hard to find. So I moved on to Oxford Circus which only has about 6 trainers shops and started on Carnaby Street. This was my mistake. 

You see Pooch's office is just off Carnaby Street so it is riddled with memory prompts. I thought it would be better if I went up to Oxford Street but that just made it worse. Because now I was getting memory flashbacks AND there were a million people jostling and also seemingly on a fruitless quest for trainers. My office used to be on the other side of Oxford Street to Pooch's and so we were forever meeting at different places round there, especially when we first met and everything was so amazing. It was an exceptionally hot summer and...bleh. All starting to sound like an early episode of 'The Wonder Years'.

So trainerless and wobbly I came back to this flat. I've been here a week which means there's one week less before I have to make a decision about what to do next. It's not like I'm going to be homeless or go without anything but it just makes me feel a bit panicky. And if there is one thing I do exceptionally well, even after years of meds and therapy, it is being panicky.

I don't want to give the impression I'm falling apart though and the 90 mins I spent on the balcony this afternoon knitting and listening to the radio was really good.

I'm not a sunworshipper and usually dislike sitting in direct sun but I guess as it is weaker at this time of year it was just blissful. Next weekend I am definitely going to be a bit more social, but I think the solitude this weekend - although sometimes uncomfortable and nervy - did me good. 

Thanks Everyone

Thanks for all your comments, tweets and texts. It's been an odd week but friends and family have made it easier and so I'm still in one piece. I met with Pooch on Thursday to discuss what had happened and we agree 100% on what the problems are, but are fairly clueless about the solution. We have been to Relate twice before and it was very helpful but we both feel we've gone as far as we can with that. Not got any plans for what happens yet except that we're both agreed we shouldn't rush to decide anything. It is all very amicable which is good.

I have been pretty restless this week and not sleeping as much as usual (I'm a 9 hours kindagal) both of which have affected my concentration. So I was pretty surprised to finish my second pair of jaywalkers, using some lovely sock yarn my Secret Pal sent me from Norway. On Ravelry here.

I also cast on another pair using some of the sock yarn I got in Istanbul. It is quite a heavy 4-ply so they are knitting up pretty cosy on 2.5mm but that's fine. I had expected it to be self-striping/fairisle type thing like classic regia, but it's actually much shorter colour lengths than that. Having noticed this with the ribbing I decided on the Estonian Button Stitch socks that I have made before (Rav link).

It was supposed to be sunny and 22 degrees today, but instead it is literally this gloomy outside.

Perhaps fortunately I had a well needed night out last night and so felt rather reticent to venture out today as had previously planned so I don;t really mind. Plus it means I have started the embroidered grid that I've seen on a number of blogs and on Flickr recently. I've only done two squares but I really like them.

The other grids I've seen were 1" squares but that seemed a bit small for my bodgy embroidery skills so I've gone with about 1.75" which is coincidentally the width of the ruler I used to draw the grid. Brains, I gottem.

I've decided to fill the squares with things that are currently relevant to me. When I woke up this morning I felt rather unwell and pretzels have been a lifeline.

I don't know how far I'll get with it before I lose interest (realistic - I got it) but I do love the 3D aspect to it.

My Director was asking me at work yesterday what I was doing this weekend and to advising me to make sure I wasn't going to be alone. She meant it kindly but I did boggle at this a bit since I really like being alone and am quite happy entertaining myself. Then one of the people I was out with last night said something that made me laugh. "I know you'll be alright cause you've got your knitting and that. I know you told me you liked that stuff but it wasn't til I saw a tweet about yarn that I realised you were serious." But it's true - I have got my yarn, and my box of embroidery threads which makes me happy just looking at it. Life may suck, but at least there is still yarn.

New Endings

I grew up with divorced parents. They split when I was 4 and so I don't have many memories of them being together. Divorce in the early 80s (at least where I grew up) was still pretty rare so I was the only one in my year at primary school with divorced parents and there weren't many more of us at secondary/sixth form or Uni. I have horrified various friends and ex-boyfriends over the years with my voicing the opinion that when I got married I would also get divorced at some point after that. I expected my marriage to last about 10 years. I thought this was the only practical way to be and would help manage everyone's expectations. What I never expected was that it would end after just over 3 years. Yes, Pooch and I have separated. It's a trial separation so you never know but neither of us is that hopeful we can pull it around.

I hesitated for a few days about blogging about this. It is very personal and although this blog always used to be more like a diary than a craft blog, I'd deliberately shifted it to be less personal since I got married. I figured it was all private after that as it was no longer just about me - it was about 'us'. Now though it looks like it is going to be all 'me' again and hell, Crazy Aunt Purl got a two book deal out of it so why not. Besides, even post-therapy I still hate talking about emotional things and find it much easier to find release through writing about it instead. When I have to talk about stuff I get this tension across the tops of my cheeks - the muscles you tense when something smells bad or you're doing a rabbit impression.

Hate it. 

I'm meeting up with Pooch on Thursday to talk about things. I made a decision to move out at the weekend to give us both some space so am effectively flat-sitting for a friend who is away for a month. It means I've got a nice little one-bed flat near Elephant & Castle with a balcony and Sky but no toaster. Being able to move here for a month is a real life saver. But I still constantly have to fight the urge to call Pooch or go back to our lovely flat where we would hug and it would all be ok. Sometimes, life utterly sucks. I'm trying to put a brave face on it but inside I am broken. 

Living in a boy's flat (he owns it and lives by himself) is quite interesting in itself because there are no feminine touches anywhere. There is nothing to hang washing on for instance - because he just hangs it over chairs or on the back of doors. There are also no cushions. Not one. He's told me to do whatever I want to make myself comfortable but there's only one thing I've done so far. The doormat looked like roadkill so I have bought him a red and white polka dot one, which looks nothing like this picture.

I'm not sure what he'll make of it when he comes back but I'll be gone by then (where to I have no idea) and in the meantime it makes coming back to the empty, unfamiliar flat a bit easier.

All this means that I may be blogging regularly, if the cathartic spleen thing works out, or maybe not at all for a long time. But I'll probably carry on tweeting about random things that come to my attention (today there's been the nobel prize for physics, derivative creativity, trade union ballots and which pantomime an imaginary miner should be in) so you can follow me on there if you want to. Link is top left. 

Reasons to be Cheerful

Reasons are few and far between at the moment. Then I saw a ravatar for a Rav member called LacyKate. It is this quote:

"Yarn will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no yarn."

What excellent sense. 

Beady Business

I finally used the beads I got in Istanbul.

The blue ones are cultured pearls and it's doubled up. The bracelet is on memory wire and is what my mum always told me were called Tigers Eye. So I feel a bit sentimental about it even though it is the most seventies looking stone I've ever seen. I used a catch on the necklace that I got at one of the Boot Fairs at the weekend. 

Isn't it sweet? It was in a packet of mixed catches. I can't help wondering what the necklaces they came off were like. I used the last few beads on stitchmarkers, along with some tiny heads from Craftacular. 

I think the cross looking one should always be used at the end of a row to show you should be getting on with the next one. 

On Twitter today there was a post about organising your buttons. I do have quite a few buttons. 

Yes, quite a few. And I am quite happy with them, but I read the post about this method and the sentence... 

"Well as much as I loved having a giant box ful it just wasn't working for me in the organized department. I had to root through looking for that perfect set only to find out I didn't have enough!"

.....really spoke to me. This is her photo from that post and on Flickr. Looks good, huh?

I can't decide whether it will be worth it as it will mean a certain amount of stitching onto cards for the loose ones. But then it will make looking at them much easier. And gloating over them. And oggling. I do love buttons. 

Speaking of Twitter, there was on online conference two nights ago which worked brilliantly (#craftsocial)! Just like the cat cafes I stupidly thought this was my idea and had discussed having a knitting one with Nickerjac about a month ago. We are going to do it so keep an eye out for that. If you're not familiar with Twitter it is very easy to use and there is a brilliantly written tutorial here (thought I say so myself)!

Crochet Button Necklace

I made one of these on Friday but am finally getting my self organised enough to post the photos. There are soooo many tutorials for these. I browsed a few before starting but basically you get some cotton, thread on the buttons then start crochet chaining.

I'm pretty pleased with it! It's hard to take a pic of yourself in a necklace so luckily SB was here to model.

I think she's looking a lot like me nowadays. I told her that and she wasn't happy.

The only downside is that it can get a bit tangly. But hey, I can untangle laceweight so I figure I'll cope.

Definitely going to make more.

Mater's Cinnamon Buns

It's tutorial tuesday. And what better than a gorgeous recipe for something warming as the weather turns colder.

These things are fricking awesome. The smell is almost as good as the taste. If you can have made bread before you won't have any trouble. If you haven't made bread before, you'll be fine. 

Ingredients

1lb strong white flour

1 level tsp salt

4tsp ground cinnamon

1tsp grated nutmeg (mum says fresh is best but life is short)

2 x 6g sachets of dried yeast

2oz caster sugar

8oz sultanas

4oz chopped glace cherries (mum's trademark)

5fl.oz. hand hot milk

1.5-2fl.oz. water

2oz melted butter

1 large egg

Glaze

2oz caster sugar

2 tbsp water

Place first 4 items in a bowl. Sprinkle in the yeast and sugar, followed by the sultanas and cherries. Add milk, water, beaten egg and butter. 

Mix into a dough.Knead for approx 6 mins until smooth and elastic. Cover loosely and leave somewhere warm until roughly doubled in size (approx 90 mins).

Press air out and shape into 12 buns on a baking tray covered in baking parchment. Cover lightly with foil and  leave to rise for another half an hour. 

Pop into hot oven (210 maybe - she uses an aga, of course) for approx 15 mins or until sound like a drum when tapped on base.

While in the oven make the glaze, then as soon as they come out brush on glaze and leave to cool. But not for tooooo long....these are absolutely delicious while fresh and still warm with some butter. Mmmmm.

And it didn't end there. She also knocked up this sponge.

The topping is marscapone based which worked exceptionally well - it tasted very fresh as well as delicious. 

The jam is home made, what else. Note also the glace cherry. I am serious - Mum rarely makes a pudding that doesn't include them somewhere!

Weekend Curiosity

This is the venue for Saturday night's dinner. 

That is Mater in the photo. It was pretty amazing which is not surprising when you consider it is owned by the family behind the Miller's Antique Guides, and is actually called 'Millers'. 

It is in Porlock, which is very pretty in itself...

... and the dining room looks out over the sea. 

Pooch was enthralled. This is a really rubbish photo which gives the impression of the just off full moon rising in the sky with the moonlight dappling the water. It was awesome, and that photo is frankly a travesty of it. 

Staying with mother is always excellent as she is a mean cook and has a cat! Artemis is the dog's when it comes to cats. 

She is pure hunter outdoors, and pure softy indoors. It's like a personality disorder. 

She also sleeps with her paw over her nose, which is unbearably cute. 

So not only cats, but also mother's cooking AND two, not just one, but two boot fairs. We don;t have boot fairs in london. No big car parks or fields. Here it seems like most farmers are dependent on renting the odd field out for boot fairs for a living. To the right....

....and to the left.

I scored a large amount of buttons which made me very happy indeed. 

That must be enough for one post so I'll wait til tomorrow to show you what Mum cooked AND share one of her classic recipes. Cinnamon buns dude. They are seriously amazing. 

SkipNorth Holiday - Limited places Left

SkipNorth - knitting holiday extraordinaire - is filling up fast!

Following the KnitCamp debacle there is some rightful doubt about the safety of paying your money to flybynight event organisers, but SkipNorth is in its sixth year and has never caused anyone to be deported. We've got just 12 places left so move fast to snag one.

If you find the idea of a weekend of knitting/spinning/crocheting, learning, socialising, cake eating and shopping appealing, then you should go here to look at the SkipNorth website. Follow the links to the agenda and booking form.

11th - 13th March, Haworth (in Yorkshire), Awesome. Enough said.

Flattr - I made some money!

Woop woop! I made 2.10 Euros on Flattr.

Well, I say made. I put in 2 Euros so I suppose strictly speaking I made 10 cents, but hey, that's a profit. And I never even joined up to make money - only to show appreciation of the blogposts of others. 

I posted about Flattr before after hearing about it from the amazing Craftypod. To be honest I had kind of forgotten about it but I went on there today out of curiosity and found 2.10 Euros waiting for me. Hubba hubba! If you get 10 Euros you can transfer it to your bank account, but I never intended to make any money so I have transferred it back to my 'giving' pile and so it will be shared out again when I flattr some more people. 

While on flattr.com I searched for craft blogs and came across Inspiration Junkie. Love it! Sadly led me straight to her etsy shop to spend some money but it is for a birthday present I had been keeping an eye out for so it's all good. Plus, it means the micro-economy of Flattr has led to money entering the macro-economy of Etsy.

And that is pretty cool.