mitt knitting for winter fingers

With less than twenty minutes or so to us setting off in the van I suddenly realised that I had an urge to knit. Something I'd not felt for some time - probably since pre the lockdown year so it was rather a surprise although not one I was going to ignore.

With no pattern in mind, no yarns to hand, no idea where my knitting pins were or what I was going to make, I hurtled upstairs into the attic resolving to grab 'something'. I was not about to let a creative impulse go to waste. 

With moments to spare and Himself hovering at the back door wanting to lock, I thundered back downstairs with three lumpy balls of yarn of similar but not exact ply, a circular knitting needle (size unknown) and a sheepish grin on my face. Himself looked at me, rolled his eyes and locked the door.

I decided by the time we'd left the village that I wanted to make some mittens for work - fingerless to be precise because, it does not matter how cold it is working out in the garden - I need my fingers out and about and not hiding somewhere snug. So I envisioned a 'roll necked' style of mitten so my fingers could be covered but still able to escape if I needed them to do delicate work.

So with a bit of trial and error I cast on the lightest colour - a soft grey - a cuff and kept myself busy as the miles passed beneath the van. Because I some times struggle absorbing a written pattern, I decided that I would just wing my own pattern and just duplicate each section as I went along.

I soon moved on to the next yarn, one which had originally caught my eye - a soft 'denim' fleck shade - this would be for the bulk of the hand, so I changed from the ribbing to do stocking stitch then in a moment of over confidence, I continued a strip of ribbing up the centre of the back of my hand. Easy I thought - I can do this...

After a couple of hours, we'd arrived and all thoughts of knitting were cast aside for a bit of coastal air and over excited dog leg-stretching.

During quiet moments I continued knitting, then came the thumb ... a bit of head scratching and some experimental increases happened here... there may have been a fair bit of unpicking - but sitting absorbing a view, drinking a mug of tea as the tide came in, or watching the sun go down was looped into each stitch making the process so much more magical.

Then on the last day - the day we were to return, I had earmarked the drive home as the perfect way to complete my mitts. Except I'd woken up with a searingly painful throat and a head that felt like molten lead and eyes that could not focus. Then time fell into a hole and vanished.

Now, over a week later, I have re-found my knitting, re-acquaintanced myself with the mitts, laid a wobbly hand on the more completed one and decided to try and finish them. I just need to stick the kettle on and begin.

Thank you everyone for your kind words and comments - I hear you - take it easy and be kind to yourself came up several times from those of you who know. Thank you sweet people I will heed your advice and I will not beat myself up about how slow I am recovering. Because, although the 'sickness' of it has gone, I still feel like a washed up lettuce leaf just not quite as green! 

I will be testing myself later (again) coz I will have to go back to work at some point - I am actually getting quite bored with my own company! 

Summer nights (and days!)🌞🌚

Sitting in a stinking hot van, in the sun, on a very warm day as Himself drove to Manchester today, was an not ideal way to spend a Friday morning, however, it did give me time to ‘pre-write’ today’s post in my head.

Whilst I watched the wind turbines languidly turn in the syrup thick warm air, I thought back on the lovely week we had just enjoyed in the lakes. Youngest and his lovely girl joined us camping in Borrowdale not far from Derwent Water on a farm site tucked between towering tree covered cliff faces. They were in our three person tent and we were in Zeb.

Our original plan had been for a few nights away but when I rang to book I impetuously decided to add another day which meant we had to pack and go almost immediately ! (which turned out to be an excellent spur of the moment decision). We hurriedly sorted out all what we wanted to take with us and headed off. Moss was so excited!

The farm we were to stay on had the narrowest road leading up the entrance and we were very grateful that there’d been no oncoming traffic, squeezing through the stone gateway was a little breath-taking although we knew we should fit through as there were other campervans already parked up.

We found ‘our’ spot and set up fairly quickly with the kettle being the first thing to be unpacked - we know our priorities! (actually Moss was fed and watered first THEN we put the kettle on….. Like I said - we know our priorities)

After we’d eaten we decided to go for a late afternoon-evening exploratory walk and Moss thought that this was an excellent idea and tried to lead us at full speed up the hills. I had to rein her in and keep her at an easier pace - not all of us have ‘four paw’ drive and two of us have ‘stupid’ knees!!

Our path led us up out of the valley although we did not go all the way to the ridge, choosing to stick to the lower level just above the woods. It was lovely to be out and breathing fresh (but still rather sultry) air whilst taking in the fragrance of sun warmed bracken and moss. We found a stream which had come straight off the hills and was breath-takingly and surprisingly cold! Moss threw herself in and splashed and wallowed with such a happy grin on her face. 

It was not long after we spied Derwent Water in the distance and stopped to take photos - a certain dog wriggled impatiently whilst we all caught our breath and admired the view. It felt humid and languid as we’d not thrown ourselves into the icy waters (more fool us said Moss) and were quite warm.

Our return to the campsite was timed with the moon just coming over the horizon towards Rosthwaite - a neighbouring village - so once we returned to the van and the tent, the kettle went back on and cameras were set up to capture what we could of the now pleasantly cool evening.

The groups of children which had happily played in the surrounding trees, had drifted back to their families and the site became a lot quieter with adults chatting quietly around fires, alongside candles or fairy lights which adorned their campervans. Himself and I tend to use the less frequented camping sites so this to us was very different to our usual set up. Youngest and his lovely girl, Himself and I chatted late into the night watching the moon and stars. It was, we all agreed, a very good start to our jollies!

More to follow ….

Mico-adventure

The sun has gently slipped behind the rooves of the houses across the village road, the sky's a pale peachy blue-grey with slightly darker untidy grey clouds drifting slowly across my view. The blue has been in short supply today as banks of sullen cloud have taken up most sky. Between the intermittent drizzle we have worked in the garden - lifting and thinning, dividing and pruning. There are two types of plants in my garden - those that thrive and strive for world domination and those that don't, never to be seen again. Today was the day that the thugs were brought into line. 

Beating back the foliage was a far cry from our last few days ... when we escaped on a microadventure with Zeb (the van) and Moss. No plans apart from sorting out a friendly farmer's field with stunning views and filling the van with food, boots and clothes.

I love these 'no-plan' adventures, where we just turn off the main road and see what happens. Our first day we walked around Whitbarrow and marvelled at how few folk were around. There were the few dog walkers on the lower slopes and the Dad and son team who looked like they'd planned a wild camp up on the hill. Other than that - hardly any one about. It was absolutely bliss.

I knew we were tired - accumulatively tired but what neither of us expected was how well we slept. Three nights in a row we got a full 12 hours (yes ... 12) sleep. We must have needed it. 

Moss filled her days with hunting down sticks, finding puddles, sniffing, swimming and running and like us falling asleep and sleeping well. The clear air and quiet countryside has been so healing - it seems that we all needed this break.

We visited Halecat plant nursery and I was inspired - although I garden for folk where I can plan and design their gardens, when it comes to my own - I am stumped. This year I'd decided that I would let my garden go semi-feral - let it go 'wild' for nature however I have found that this 'return to nature' is not for me - my garden has to be compatible for our local insect, bird and mammal population but it has still got to be beautiful and make my own heart sing.

I was fired up by their planting, the colour planning and their designs, so.... I may have spent a pound or two bringing home a few plants as a catalyst to my garden revolution!

We walked miles - Moss many more.  We also just sat, breathed, watched the sky, listened to birds, listened to the wind in the trees. Played in streams, sniffed the flowers, picked raspberries and I even attempted to eat a crab-apple (cue screwed up face!😵) We sipped tea at the top of hills, alongside streams, we nibbled Sunny Street flapjacks and strawberries while we watched hundreds of butterflies feast on buddleia. And we slept.

It has been a very cathartic and healing few days - ones we would love to have had for a little longer but reality is calling and Himself is back to work tomorrow and I am on Tuesday. But until then - you'll find me in my garden!

Breathing

 So, I dropped off the radar.

When not working, we've been going on micro-road trips almost every weekend. For us, at the moment, road trips don't mean we are doing overnighters, we still come home at the end of the day once we have squeezed every last drop out of our adventure.

We love to walk the quieter paths and the less trodden routes and we have learnt over years of walking that the casual dog walker tends to turn back soon after their dog has relieved themselves - the evidence is the give away 🙄 and the day-tripper-walkers (especially now) tend to keep to the 'honey-pot' places where there are easy to pootle along pathways, with outdoor cafes and obvious beauty spots to visit. Good for them and hopefully good for struggling tourism post the pandemic drought.

We've not travelled far either, we don't have to drive miles and miles to find quiet trails in cool woodlands or to find panoramic views, there are so many places to visit locally that very quickly become 'off the beaten track' with a little effort.

Having Zeb (van) has elevated our walks to micro-adventures. The delight of pulling up into a parking space and while we are getting ready for our day's walking, listening to the kettle whistling a merry tune. The pleasure of sipping freshly made piping hot tea while we fill the flasks and lace up our boots.  And the relief (and I do mean relief) of being able to nip to the loo before we go and knowing that when we return from our walk we can use the bathroom, wash our hands, pull off our hot boots and slip into a change of shoes. Bliss.

And we've agreed food tastes better when cooked and eaten outside.

Yesterday we walked over a fairly high and isolated moorland ridge littered with limestone pavements, it made for tricky walking as we picked our way through the slabs and, today, despite feeling like I have been through the wringer - it was a good adventure.

Even the most heart-breakingly beautiful view is made better by tea and a dilly dog. Talking of tea and dilly dog in the same sentence, when we stop for our brew and a biscuit or two, so does she. We get out flasks for us and water for her. 

On Sunday we munched our way through Anzac biscuits and she tucked into gravy bones - we need the energy boost and it only goes to reason that she does too 😊

There is something restorative in the simple pleasures of hugging a mug, sitting next to your man while watching the sun go down.  

These photos are just a small selection from our walks and micro-adventures over the last couple of weeks since lockdown has been easing.  

So, a tentative toe has been dipped back into blogging, it is not that I have nothing to say - I always have some story or other.

It is not as if I've not done anything, not been anywhere...it is just when I start to write a post - nothing happens ... ... ... except me staring at the draft page then shutting down the laptop or deleting what I have written.

I will return to blogging, blog hopping and commenting, but at the moment - life is busy, I am still grieving for a small and furry and my personal time is precious - stay safe, enjoy life, have adventures big and small and don't wait for 'things to get better' you have to grab the moment and make it yours, make it different, make it better - and do it RIGHT NOW.

Mud maketh the walk (muddy!)

Dawn brought respite after the all night rain. We'd parked beneath a deciduous tree and all through the night the rain drops landed on the roof making our van as musical at a kettle drum. A lovely metallic sound...all..night..long.............all......... night........looooooong.......

I managed to get a fairly good night's sleep however Himself was very groggy and tired and needed a good strong brew first thing before he felt anyway human!

Moss dragged us out after breakfast  as we stepped into the woods. There were several other vans quietly hidden between the trees, most of the occupants seemed still asleep, although there was one sleepy eyed vanlifer clutching a steaming mug whilst he sat on the step, we nodded a mutual silent greeting almost like a secret club as we walked by. 

The air was filled with bird song accompanied by the steady crunch of our boots on the woodland paths. Moss bounded ahead, following invisible trails of scent as they pulled her along.

The path suddenly reached the edge of the trees and left us against the side of a vast open moorland with mounds of flowering heather and silver birch trees. A weathered abandoned fence post looked for all as a small wooden Easter Island statue, making us both smile at the incongruous sight. 

We re-entered the trees and began to head downwards along a puddle riddled track - Moss was delighted and threw herself into the mud and pretended to be a wallowing warthog, grinning and wagging as we walked towards her.

Along our route, we chanced across an abandoned hamlet so we explored and imagined who lived there and what the buildings were. We even found the old orchard with an apple tree weighed down with glossy red apples - unfortunately despite the urge to attempt a little scrumping - we were unable to penetrate the thorny scrub that protected the tree.

We walked for most of the day, through farmland, over moors, along tracks, through woods, by villages and alongside roads. We stopped and sat next to a fast flowing small brook for a break, giving time for Moss to swim while we drank tea and rested. A long section of the path had been hard going, mud filled, slippery and boot eating. We were tired. 

 On the return journey, the air cooled and the sky faded to a gentle blue, bird song turned from the daylight chittering and twittering to the garrulous evening chorus as they jostled for roosting space in the trees. The blackbirds being the most argumentative of them all. 

The last stretch to the van was the hardest - uphill with a section along the road - but it meant we were nearly 'home' or is that nearly 'van'?!

As we turned into the trees we discovered a small memorial viewing platform, so we stopped, breathed in the cooled air filled with the scent of autumnal decay and trees' breath. 

As we turned away from gazing at the valley we'd spent most of the day walking up one side and back down the other - we saw we were being watched!

It was bliss to take my boots off, to put the kettle on and to sit down. Moss had been fed and was fast asleep on her bed and our food was quietly cooking. That mug of tea was like nectar!

Then, after we'd eaten, I curled up in the bed, with the back door open and watched the woods gradually darken whilst I caught up with a bit of slow sew and Himself read his book.

Another good wild day - despite the mud - it was really good.

xxx