You can tell its nearly Christmas, so much to do, so little time and no energy at all.

Three weeks ago I ended up at the Out of Hours doctors surgery at the local hospital with a chest infection, was duly given a course of antibiotics and sent home. I did as I was told, plenty of fluids, took all of my medication and waited to get better. Which I thought I had, but in my heart I knew I hadn’t.

On Thursday I woke up feeling like death but chivvied myself to get dressed and get on with the morning, and it was just the tonic I needed to see the girls at knitting. I was still coughing like a good ‘un, whilst making comments of “oh yes it is getting better” and trying not to listen to the comments that came back that I needed to see a doctor.

Thursday evening came, I was exhausted and shivery and on Friday morning my lungs really started to hurt on one side. AT that point I gave in and organised a doctors appointment and a taxi because I realised that I wouldn’t be able to walk that far. My doctor was slightly concerned as she listened to my sticky lungs, gave me a course of antibiotics, instructed me not to take my methotrexate this weekend and has made me promise to go to the out of hours surgery if I’m not improving (at the moment I think I am, although its a fine line) has put me on weekly blood tests and weekly visits to see her until I’m better.

So, if someone could do all of my Christmas shopping, write my cards, make my cake and all of those other things that I was mean’t to get done in the last month that I have been poorly, I’d really appreciate it..

I do hope people understand when they don’t get Christmas cards this year, that I just couldn’t do it. (And there hasn’t been very much Christmas knitting done either!)

And on that note, I’m going back to my bed, wishing for a much better year next year.

Not much to show really, just bobbles from my Surface by Norah Gaughan.

These are from the first sleeve which I still haven’t finished.

I’m not sure if I am enjoying the bobbles. Part of me really likes them and another part loathes them because they make my wrists and hands ache. There is also a part of me that wants them finished – I would love to wake up and find this garment ready to wear.

I’ve circled Christmas day as my deadline. Its a present for me, wish me luck!

Life is just like a roller coaster sometimes, we have our ups and downs or our ebbs and flows or maybe we just experience the tide of life. Often with a rather gritty bottoming. I could even put into this little scenario not waving but drowning. Just sometimes there are good friends that pull you out of the mire, it must be tough for them to cope with the changes, but they don’t change and remember you, no matter how weird you look, just who you are.

And they are few, these friends.

And for this friend, well, he has been a good pal for many, many years. When I was in my darkest hour, (and there were many) he just sat and chatted with me – and for that I am very grateful.

So, when I noticed this autumn that he was without a woolly hat, (he has moved recently and misplaced his woolly hats) I became concerned. So, after looking through my stash and various patterns I knitted up a fisherman’s hat (that will keep his ears warm) in RYC Cashsoft Aran.

I could say this hat will keep him warm whilst he ventures out daily to shop for his organic vegetables and twice weekly line caught cod.

But the truth be known, its his twice daily jaunts to his local hostelry.

And long may that reign.

and no it doesn’t look that orange its a much deeper red, just poor photography on my part.

I’ve finished the binding on my Christmas tree skirt. Hubby went to bed early last night and I spent a couple of hours hand sewing.

I was quite sad when I came to the end of it. Although I had a wonderful nights sleep, perhaps this is better for the soul than a complicated cable pattern just before bed time.

And the reason I have pushed on with the sewing?

Was this – the beading. I became quite giddy with excitement as I rifled through my stash of beads.

It is lovely to play like a child again, actually I think it is better than playing like a child as these are beautiful glass beads made for adults to enjoy, not plastic beads that become dull very quickly.

I haven’t planned every stage yet, but I have settled on some beautiful Rocaille Czech gold beads with silver linings in size 7/0 as a trim all the way around the edge.

So pretty, I’m sure these are really going to shimmer and dance with the lights of the Christmas tree shining upon them.

I’m a third of the way around.

I’ve had to word my title in this way because after coming home with my Christmas Tree Skirt my family voiced disappointment and son no.2 in particular seemed quite sad that it wasn’t a Christmas Tree skirt to wear!!! Hubby just wondered why?! I would be making one, but was sure that I was making a party skirt.

Earlier in the day Carie and I had a conversation about just how many people thought that we were making skirts for ourselves, I mentioned that I was slightly worried that I really didn’t think I came over as a person that would wear a Christmas tree skirt but that my family see me otherwise. At this point I’m wondering who else I have told – Mother? – thinks I would look quite jolly with Scots Pines festooning a gaily decorated skirt.

To start at the very beginning, I saw a class on quilting that sang to my very soul. And I knew of the perfect companion, one who enjoys colour and texture even more than I do and who is always game for new textile adventures. After a flurry of emails Carie and I were booked and eager to take part.

Eventually the day dawned, a bright blue day, and off I trotted to The Quilters Den very much looking forward to seeing Carie for the first time in ages and what the day would have in store for us. I chose my materials which is trickier than it looks, I went for bright and loud Christmas colours, which will suit our Christmas tree decorations perfectly.

Carie arrived, chose her colours and so we set to work for six hours. Carie and I barely had time to speak to each other, as we raced through each step of the patchwork, eager to see how it would all come together. All too soon the day came to an end and we had this between the three of us, (another lady called Ros was part of our group)

Its rather lovely to see how different colourways come together.

I’d be quite happy with this under my tree.

and just a quick peek show and tell. Here are the matching socks, well mine match Carie’s or as Carie so eloquently put it, “Mandy was copying”, I laughed and felt like a naughty school girl who’d been caught peeking over a neighbours shoulder to borrow their answers. “I only copied because she egged me on” – and that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. They do look good together, I was quite sad that Carie’s hubby wasn’t joining us as at some stage as he has a matching pair too!

I notice we have both reverted to our normal toe knitting pattern rather than what was suggested. I started on the patterns toes, thought ‘bleugh’ ripped back and knitted my normal toe.

I had a lovely day, it was great fun with wonderful company.

I managed to do some work on my skirt yesterday,

all pieced together,

and every tree has been zigzagged in gold thread three times, to make them stand out.

a quick peek at the back. Not too shabby.

and this is how I left it last night. I’ve managed to attach all of my binding.

Having a skein of Peace, Love & Misti Alpaca Hand Painted sock yarn in your stash is akin to having a case of the finest port (hopefully of the year of your birth) stashed away in a deep cellar under your home. (a modern wine cellar fridge will do if the builders were remiss in digging out a cellar whilst building your home) You know its there, its gives you a warm comforting glow and just the thought of using it makes you shiver with anticipation. That stage of affairs can be enjoyed for a very long time.

Then, a friend knits with her Misti Alpaca in exactly the same colourway that was sitting in my stash. You mention this to her and she waxes lyrical about how wonderfully soft and gorgeous her new socks are and practically commands you to cast on. Well with that in mind and the amusement factor that it would be quite good fun to knit the same socks I cast on. Spey Valley Socks by Nancy Bush in Knitting on the Road.

I think its quite a nice idea to knit Spey Valley Socks that have the glint of The Macallan in them and certainly have the comfort that comes from a dram or two. Did I mention that the yarn is made from Alpaca, Merino, Silk and a touch of Nylon.

As beautiful as they are, there is a slight fault, can you see what it is?

A closer look.

You can see on the bottom sock that the striping of the yarn starts to reverse. I didn’t notice until I was half way down my second sock. So I turned my first sock inside out and discovered this…

a tiny little knot that must have slipped through my fingers whilst racing for the toe. It seems secure so I’m just going to leave it alone and see what happens.

Me, I love them and I can’t wait to wear them.

I’ve noticed that Loop in Islington have even more delightful colourways in this yarn, fortunately for me the colours that I favoured were sold out. I still have two more skeins in my stash to shiver in delightful anticipation over.

Today I have been searching around the Internet for a 1/4 inch foot for my electric sewing machine. Having blown the dust off it a couple of weeks ago and then making sure that it does still work. I’ve been playing with it, it will probably need a service but it is a sturdy Singer machine that is only 23 years old and has done very little in its life time.

Yesterday I walked over to the other side of town to find that the sewing machine shop was no longer there. And along with that hubby has been trying to find the sewing shop open in the next town to no avail. Today, I spent hours on the net, generally finding that the person who would have the knowledge was not in, was on holiday, or that they didn’t have a 1/4″ foot in stock. Frustration reigned.

On one last ditch attempt I found a chap that really knew his machines and I have as from four o’clock this afternoon a 1/4″ foot winging its way to me – along with a walking foot, darning foot and cover for the feed. I was most pleased.. I’ve spent some serious amount of man hours on this little adventure.

Cue Singer Treadle machine.

This machine only came into my home recently, just before everything went pear shaped in March so I hadn’t had time to look at it. It was bought from new by a lady that my mother used to work for, she gave it to my mother when she could no longer sew. Up until that point she had made all of her curtains, cushions and many of her clothes on this machine. Mother admired it and had been using it as an ornament for many years, but wanted more space for something else so I very quickly put my hand up and said, “me, let me have it, I would love it so” and so it came to sit in my living room.

Whilst telling hubby about my adventures today, we decided to see what model my very old treadle Singer was, just to see what was available for this machine.

And there, sitting proudly and just waiting for discovery was….

A 1/4″ Foot!!!

Madness I tell you, madness.

Apart from a box of goodies for the machine there were some other little goodies that might amuse you.

The original instruction manual dated 1920 in fabulous condition.

and an old Coventry Evening Telegraph newspaper screwed up in the base dated January 2nd 1964.

I love this advert it seems to depict the glamor of the 60’s, just look at the hairstyles of the well dressed lady of the day. I’ll bet they went to bed with rollers in!

Meet Winston.

Isn’t he adorable?

I’ve always wanted a budgie, my Nan used to have one and we became firm friends and I’ve always loved them. Hubby on the other hand, during our twenty years of marriage has never understood my obsession with budgies so I’ve never been lucky enough to own one. I’ve probably spent several weeks of my life looking at budgies at various pet centers desperately trying to convince hubby how lovely they are. And then had to sadly walk away, because they sing to my heart and I was always very sad to leave them.

And have you seen the price of budgie cages. A decently sized one is starting to be serious money so I’ve never felt that I could go against hubby if he really didn’t want one.

A couple of weeks ago whilst visiting my very favourite place in all the world, the tip (just call me Stig) somebody had recently thrown away a very fine cage, a really nice one, with all of its accessories and the lady in charge let me have it for a fiver. A fiver… That really made me smile. I think I really was meant to have it because we were just dumping rubbish and were on our way to a large garden centre (to buy autumn raspberry canes) which has the finest selection of budgies for miles around. I was so happy – hubby was slightly grumpy. I ignored him.

How to select a budgie? I knew I wanted a boy – I had been secretly reading up on budgies over the years and boys are meant to make the best speakers. I also knew I wanted a brightly coloured green budgie with a fluffy head. So when Winston kept landing on the wire netting of his cage next to us for a natter the choice was made.

We came home and set everything up for Winston and the boys moaned it wasn’t a kitten and that they would never entertain Winston or look after him in anyway. They were seriously grumpy with me. And hubby was slightly grumpy too.

And then later that evening, hubby starts to laugh as Winston is trying to navigate the living room and find his favourite perches. And then —– picks him up and starts talking to him. They were bonding.. These days hubby is often the first to get Winston out of his cage in the evening, I’m knitting, hubby is talking to Winston.

and the grumpy teenage boys – well, they are often to be seen with Winston on their shoulder or just sat with a parrot on their finger talking to him.

Winston does have a friend, the dishwasher. The dishwasher peeps four times when its finished it cycle, Winston responds, then there is a delay of twenty seconds and the dishwasher peeps twice more, which Winston responds to. I think its the start of a beautiful relationship..

My ironing is up to date.

As is my washing.

All socks that can be, have been paired and put away.

My husband actually sat on the ‘other’ Sofa last night.

This is a rare occasion, a bit like Halley’s comet.

This is why I love having an allotment. Everything on this plate hubby and I – and the chickens! – have grown ourselves.

Tasty, fresh as a daisy produce, picked at a stage when I want to eat them. And not forgetting that not one of these delightful vegetables has been subjected to pesticides.

And I think we have done very well to be able to provide a lunch such as this at the end of October. That’s no mean feat. The carrots and beetroot are from a very late sowing, as are the little gems, the peppers are just about finished, they won’t ripen into a glorious red at this time of year. The cucumbers have done extremely well this year and I should have tomatoes slowly ripening for another month or two. I’m trying to grow a new variety to me of winter lettuce, I’ll let you know how it goes later in the year.

I think we should be able to continue with salads such as this for at least one more month, before the wintry coleslaw’s and bean and vegetable salads take over from the eggs and lettuce.

The cost, now the greenhouse and shed have paid for themselves, I think, including grain for the chickens, probably not even 25p per plate. (obviously not including man hours – but then who includes man hours into a favourite hobby!)

I know when I do need to buy something in the way of vegetables from the shop its always a real shock to me just how much everything costs. I’ve had to start buying onions again as I ran out last week, although I’m using leeks where possible in most recipes, (we have lots of leeks!) and I shall be running out of potatoes in the next fortnight.

In the old days there was such a thing as a potato man who delivered sacks of potatoes to you from the back of his truck. Tasty, fresh, locally produced spuds and they were cheap. Now your lucky to find an independent green grocer on the high street. Hey Ho.