Do you remember I said I would tell you a little story about a lift, are you sitting comfortably, you are, then I shall begin. (ignore narration, this is all over the place)

Once upon a time there was a fair maiden called Mandy who was called to the kingdom of the Nuffield to have a bit of a scary operation. On the day of the surgery, Mandy had to be up at 5.30 a.m. to be booked in at 7.00 a.m. for surgery at 8.00 a.m. I only tell you this small detail because it will also explain just how wide eyed and how she was really not able to cope with things as well as she would have been if it was a little later in the day.

All was going well, during the course of the booking in procedure the scary bits were getting scarier but Mandy was coping just fine. Then the time came to wheel her down to surgery. Being of noble birth she left her expensive items with her willing and faithful servant I mean husband which in this day and age meant her brand new specs. She was fully adorned in a pair of paper pants and one of those off the shoulder doesn’t quite meet at the back surgical gowns and a pair of rather attractive thick white tights, which Mandy hoped she would be able to show to her knitting friends so that they could admire the colour, cut and style of such an attractive pair, she hopped into bed, and was gaily wheeled off by two nurses.

One of the nurses Mandy had met on a previous visit, so we were gaily chatting away, her name was Manjit, the other nurse I am afraid to say I didn’t quite get her name, what with having no specs so I was unable to see her name tag and with what happened next it completely slipped my mind.

Manjit, Mandy and Nurse 2 entered the lift and all seemed to go well, but then there was a small problem. One of the lift doors wouldn’t open completely and the nurses were unable to wheel me out to theatre. A little discussion was held and it was decided that Manjit and I would go up and down again to see if the floors would realign. So up we went, no problem, and then down and on the way down, the lift crashed and Mandy was flown into the air by an inch, the whole of my body left the trolley. Manjit opened the door and we faced a concrete wall. This was not a good sign. I could feel my breathing change.

Manjit started calling and we could hear voices, Manjit was calling to see if there was someone there, me I was telling her to start pressing buttons to see if the lift would react in some way. Manjit then pressed some buttons and the lift went up but didn’t open its door and so we pressed the lift to come down. This time, it crashed with an even louder bang, I mean REALLY LOUD and my body left the trolley by at least two inches. The doors opened to see a concrete wall. I was starting to concentrate on my breathing. Breathe slow, relax, let it gently escape, etc.

Manjit started to call again, Me, I started to insist that she pressed buttons, any buttons, just buttons, which eventually when I started to lose control of my breathing she did. The lift went up and low, the door opened at a floor, and I screamed get me out, get me out, get me out. Manjit pushed me out.

So having to crawl through a lift hatch with barely a stitch of clothing on, averted.

But no we met new troubles.

The nuffield is currently undergoing a refit to the tune of several million dollars and the workmen had left this particular floor in a terrible state. The was another lift next to this lift but to get to it, the workmen had left about thirty chairs in the hall way. Poor Manjit had to move them all as I was completely useless, whilst I was laying there debris from the ceiling was falling on to me and my pristine just about to go into surgery bed linen. And I presume that the jolts in the lift may well have dislodged bits of dirt/dust.

Anyway we got into the second lift and that one worked and I was wheeled to surgery at this point, as you can imagine I relaxed just enough to burst into tears and was sobbing uncontrollably as I met my surgeon. He was lovely and gripped my hand and launched into stories that only men of a certain experience in life know can make a woman laugh. And soon we were laughing at past experiences and the anaesthetist had to break us up to start surgery. I will always be very grateful to him for getting me past that experience in such a short time.

I was released from hospital yesterday, when I say released, I mean to say I told my consultant (and any hospital staff that came into my room!) I was coming home. I have two main theories about when its time to go home from hospital, firstly when the hospital bed starts to feel uncomfortable its time to come home and secondly when the good drugs stop its time too. Actually they gave me a goodly supply of the good drugs but as I hate taking them and they make me feel giddy/dizzy/lightheaded and nauseous it has been good to be in control and not take them for the last 24 hours. I’m just taking the paracetamol/ibuprofen combo now.

The most excellent news is both of my ovaries have been saved.

I’ve eaten Four, yes Four slices of toast and marmite this morning, having stopped the drugs my appetite has found its way home, this is the largest meal I’ve eaten in days. And now I’m going back to bed to lie down. I expect the next few days will be a pattern of tea drinking, pain killers, sleep and meals along with little trots around the house to moan about things.. Well you need to keep the risk of a DVT to a minimum…

I’ve got stories to tell and when I feel just a little bit more energetic I shall regail you with the story of The Lift, look out for it, its going to be a thrilling installment.

Thank you for all your good wishes.

I am a very lucky girl, I really am. I have good friends who have been keeping in touch and wishing me well for the next few days.

Firstly Ailsa sent me some gorgeous Noro that she no longer had plans for. Isn’t it lovely and I will be able to put it to very good use to make a very large Lizard Ridge blanket.

Thank you Ailsa.

I’ve had lovely emails, kind and thoughtful phone calls that made me giggle as they contained threats of bringing in Gin & Tonics on Sunday, and my parents took me to lunch yesterday.

Son no.1 has taken the day off work to help me sort out the house a little, he’s quite amusing, he doesn’t clean much but he’s nice to have around.

And then, the postman knocked the door and delivered this….

Look, beautiful Lornas Laces in a gorgeous colourway And my very favouritist chocolate in all the world,( the Almond Green & Blacks). Hubbys favourite chocolate is fruit and nut so I expect he will try to arm wrestle me for the raisin and hazelnut. Trust me, he won’t win. Along with a rather amusing dry to the bone card, which suits my sense of humour perfectly. Thank you Diane, for my wonderful present, you are very naughty.

And just in case this is all sounds a little like gobbledygook to you, I have to have a hysterectomy tomorrow. I have bilateral complex ovarian cysts that need removing and then we will see what can be saved although the uterus and cervix are definitely coming out. Its all been rather fast and emotional as you can imagine. And the worst thing is…. I won’t be able to Dig for TWELVE weeks. I think that is going to be very hard for me, which is why Diane tells me in her card to Behave! I’ve already counted the weeks out, it will be the end of May. Then its going to take me several weeks to get my digging fitness back. Don’t worry I’m just wittering….

Anyway as they say, there will be a break in transmission.

Right I’m off to wind some beautiful Lornas Laces into cakes ready for hospital/post hospital knitting.

Have fun everyone.
xx

http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=-8556350849390864385&hl=en&fs=true

I may not be the acclaimed Pink Panther Jewell thief extraordinaire, but my fellow blog readers I have found a jewel of a yarn that before it becomes impossible to buy and this may already be the case I have to share with you. It is Bugga, just look at the colours, look at the yardage, look at the materials merino, cashmere and nylon. It is unbelievably soft yet feels very strong and… its machine washable. What more could a girl want! Sanguine Gryphon updates on a Tuesday and I have to tell you the Wollmeise fans have found her, her Bugga updates disappear very, very quickly.

This colourway is Differential Grasshopper knitted up into Embedded Leaves. Its beautiful and I love it.

Well our hens think so.

The first egg of the year.

I remember the first year we kept chickens I learnt such a simple truth that it made me laugh heartily. One of the reasons that eggs must be a symbol of Easter (and I know there are religious reasons too) is that chickens are in full lay, we were inundated with Easter eggs that year, all hens were laying one egg a day and as we had various breeds of hens which lay different coloured eggs, it was very pretty. I’m not sure if we will repeat that this year as our ladies are so much older these days and although they lay well, they don’t lay every day.

And we have another signal that Easter is upon us.

Our Easter cacti have come into flower and are looking rather pretty. I am always surprised just how well my Easter cacti do, as to be absolutely frank they are terribly neglected once they stop flowering. I barely remember to give them a drink all winter, yet somehow, they always survive.

When I’m feeling low or tired or ill or all three together there are just a few things that can soothe me.

Firstly it has to be home made soup. This is ham, leek and pea soup. The ham hock was begged from the sliced meat counter of Waitrose for the princely sum of £1.73. It has been simmered for five hours and then the meat was taken off the bone. Lots of lovely homegrown leeks were gently fried in butter and added to the stock along with the yellow split peas. Its not quite ready yet, but it will be soon and then it will be in my tummy for lunch and I’m really looking forward to it.

Then just a few rows of something soft which is beautifully coloured soothes my tempered brow. I am a fickle knitter, I love my Lizard Ridge, I do. But (there’s always a but isn’t there) I need variety and this yarn has called to me from the very first day that it was placed in my stash. Its a sock yarn from fybrespates, I have three skeins of yarn from fybrespates bought at a show a long time ago. I don’t know why but they didn’t have labels on them and I’ve completely forgotten which was which. All I do know is that they are machine washable, this is a requirement of sock yarn that is not negotiable; and I remember asking.

The pattern is Show-off Stranded Socks by Anne Campbell. Its an interesting pattern in the way the heel is turned. It would be perfect for a diabetic or other person with a sensitive foot as the turn leaves no edges and is smooth and soft. And if you just kitchened the toe instead of pulling the last few stitches together it would truly be a sock without seams.

And after that, well could there be anything that could match up to the previous two. Well yes there can. There can be good friends. Who without prying just give you a little fiber hug. Thank you Carie, I love them All. They are just so gorgeous, it was wonderful the way they tumbled out of the bag onto the table to reveal their full glory.

My hubby is a man of few words. But knowing I was feeling a little down he came home with these.

Aren’t they lovely.

Delivered to my bed by my very own trusty postman at just after seven this morning.

You can imagine my disappointment on Saturday to discover that Royal Mail had tried to deliver, but the long haired, cheesy footed teenage son that currently resides in bedroom no.2 did not hear the door knock or the four hounds that we own which would have been barking loud enough to wake the dead, to alert him that someone wished to gain the householders attention.

After sighing wistfully as I knit my last ball of Noro last night, hubby dashed to the post office in glacial conditions very early this morning just so my dreams could come true.

Thank you darling.

I’ve been given a random letter, thanks go to Linda My Letter is K and the idea is to blog about ten things you love beginning with your random letter. Here goes…

1. Kids.

Mine of course, other peoples are often quite obnoxious. I love my boys, I love that they are sometimes hard work, that they are not beige, that they have formed characters of there own. That they are free thinkers, that we argue about various issues, that they are willing to work hard to prove a point. And also that they are gentle and caring boys who will one day make fine men.

2. Kenilworth

There is a saying about these parts, its not a definite saying but it all runs along the same theme. Outsiders on marrying a Kenilworthian may be heard to mutter, “you can’t get them to move out of Kenilworth”. Its my home, I love it, I come from one of the oldest families which is well known and well respected. When I am away I miss it.

3. Knitting.

Need I say more, I know I haven’t been knitting for very long in the scheme off things but I love it. There is a part of me that bitterly regrets that I didn’t pick up this wonderful hobby sooner and I am deeply sad that I have missed out on all those knitting years. But on the other hand I am very grateful that I did take it up when there are so many wondrous yarns to choose from.

There are just so many aspects of knitting that I deeply love, from picking a pattern which can take months to choosing yarn. I am a very bad sleeper, I very rarely sleep through the night and knitting has been a good companion to me in the early hours when its too cold to get out of bed. I lie cosy in my bed and think about patterns that I would like to knit, what yarns and colours I would choose and how I might change a pattern. There are patterns that I think deeply about, Bayerische for example and I allow my imagination to work through them and slowly I am gaining confidence to start on such a pattern. I think about the warmth of wool and how life giving it is to cold and stiff joints, how soothing a woolly hot water bottle is and how wonderful a nice bright, thick and woolly blanket might be. How the right woolly hat can give a girl confidence and how colourful socks can brighten the day. I dream about future knitting and what I would love to knit, if I am lucky enough to be blessed with grandchildren..

I love knitting.

4. Know How

To define it, ‘The knowledge and skill required to do something correctly’.

I love that the Internet has opened so many doors to so many people including myself so that we can learn skills and know how.

I’ve always had the ability to find out what I wish to know to a level of knowledge that satisfies me. In other words I might not be able to lecturer about dog behaviour, but from reading many books I am able to read there language and am able to put over through body language what I require of them. I love that my husband has a very high level of know how and if he doesn’t know he will find out. I love that my boys are learning that know how and knowledge is a very powerful tool and are learning how to acquire the knowledge they need.

5. K9’s

Since I could walk I have had the very worrying habit of approaching all dogs, some of which were bigger than me to say hello. I always seemed to ignore the bit about having to ask first and would wander over without a care in the world. At the age of 8 I could correctly identify most of the breeds in the country. We never had a dog, my nan did though and I used to walk her dog (she had various dogs, all rescue, before rescue was fashionable) through out the year up and around the Abbey Fields, then through to the long walks around the back of the Castle. No matter how much I begged we never had a dog at home. Over the years I identified my one true love which was the Golden Retriever and when my boys were old enough so that they would be able to handle a bigger dog that wish became a reality. I will always have a dog in my life. They give me comfort and really do make great hot water bottles. I do believe you can tell the merit of a person by their dog, if you look at the dogs behaviour around that person you can see what there true colours are.

When Charlie was about 9 months old I had hurt my back triggered from an old injury that was playing up. I was in the bedroom and collapsed onto the floor, I was on my own in the house, the boys were at school. I managed to get to the bed but couldn’t find the strength because of the pain to get my arms and upper torso onto the bed. Charlie was with me, he squeezed himself into the small triangle between myself, the bed and the floor and pushed against me, which raised me up and I was then able to pull myself onto the bed. How did that dog know what I needed? But he did.

6. Kestrels

All British birds really. I love Kestrels and Hawks and I have been lucky enough to have seen Ospreys in the wild. I love watching birds hunt, I love how sharp and keen they become. Every fibre of there being is concentrated on catching supper which is how it should be. There beauty is undefinable.

7. Karats
(may be an American spelling)

You know what they say, Diamonds are a girls best friend. I love my diamonds, I don’t have enough of them but the few I have are treasured possessions and they make me smile when I look at them.

8. Kaleidoscopes

What list on K’s would be complete without Kaleidoscopes. I loved them as a child. I would spend hours gazing at the brightly coloured moving jewels.

9. Kneading
I love kneading bread, I love the feel of the bread coming to life underneath your hands. How the yeast, flour and water work together to form a warm and springy dough.

10. Kisses.

I love kisses. Silly sloppy kisses and baby kisses and puppy kisses and passionate take your breath away type kisses.

And I know I’ve had my ten, but there are Kittens and Kites and not forgetting Kitchener stitch!

Who wants a letter?

I’ve just started to lead up my piece. This is the most difficult stage as unlike knitting where if it doesn’t quite fit you can give a little tug this is not possible with glass. My tutor is still at the stage where she’s really not sure if I’m going to do this, me, well I know I’ll do it. I know I’ve had dire warnings all the way through that this was too complicated a piece for a beginner, but then who starts to knit socks when they are learning to knit..

At long last you get a view of the whole thing even if it is a bit jumbled up.

And aren’t hubby’s carrots fab. Not quite finished, he’s just cementing them in but they do look good.