I've finally figured out how to do moss stitch again and I find it mesmerising, obsessive and infuriating all at the same time. This week I've been knitting in the tea room at work, knitting in front of the telly, outside in the sun, in the back room and beside the heater in the kitchen in spare moments. I'm making a scarf, in deep red fine mohair with some acrylic in it. Reds, pinks and dark greens, all with a good dose of black, these are the colours ringing my bells at the moment. Combinations that I used to really like twenty years ago. I'm using my favourite green needles from the opshop with the black ends, which just happen to be the right size and I'd show you a picture but my monitor is away being fixed (again, what is it with my beautiful computer? is it too clever by half?) and I can't be bothered setting up to down load my camera onto G's computer. Anyway the effect on the needles is quite pleasing. The knitting is coming up quite lacy and sits nice and flat, which is good for a scarf. Indeed, I'm considering pulling the other green one out and re-doing it in moss or garter stitch because the way stocking stich curls into a big glob is irritiating around my neck. But anyway, I'm not that far along with the red scarf because each time I lay it on the table and marvel at how I'm making a fabric, looking at all the intertwining strands, I notice a mistake twenty rows down, crack the shits and pull it all out. Funny thing is I don't care, it's been a stressful week and knitting is mediative, better than continual comfort eating or pacing the floor. Especially when I force myself to focus on each stitch and concentate on technique.
A house we like is being auctioned tommorrow, and let's just say that this week I've learnt alot about how realestate works in a soggy market. Quite a different ballgame from last year. So, if for whatever reason, we don't buy this house tommorow, that's my lesson. In other news, the car has sprung a dodgy clutch and has to be taken to the mechanics, and he's saying that it might be expensive. Although he's one of those lovely mechanics that has quite a conservative view of expensive and I'm almost never shocked by the bill. And Gerard's going away for a few days next week to do some work for a friend, so it's not the most convenient time to be carless. But I don't care. With mum's help, we'll manage and I have my knitting.
Did some sewing today too (after shopping and the hour and a half small child dressing session complete with ear splitting screams just on case one thinks that I'm living the ideal craft life). I made a green wool skirt and might have used the wrong pattern. A simple a-line would have been better, I think. There was lots of unpicking while watching Pingu and getting jumped on and wrestled by Grace. Both of us nearly got a quick unpick up our eye at one stage. Never mind, I think I've finished it, except for a final adjustment at the waist. Maybe I won't like it and I'll have to make up the other piece of green material I have and salvage this for something else.
OK time to go and do a row or two before bed....
ps I'm probably not going to turn into a proper craft blog. Next weeks obsession might be the tree dahlias or one hundred ideas for small bathrooms. Just been thinking about it a bit because I realised the other day that I've been blogging for over two years now and I thought it would be all about craft. Because I thought I'd be living this blissful sunshiney craft filled life. Now life's pretty good, but a different kind of good. Gosh, time files doesn't it.