SBS is our multicultural TV channel, and it has some great movies and series - most of which are sub-titled. Our current favourites are: a gory Argentinian detective series, shown late on Monday night, called 'If the Dead Could Speak'; and our extra-favourite 'The Eagle: A Crime Odyssey', a Danish crime series set in Copenhagen with little sidetrips to other parts of Europe. We particularly like this show as we spent some time in Scandinavia a couple of years ago, and it's wonderful to look at the action and recognise the places. It brings back a lot of memories.
However shows on SBS have the disadvantage, for us monolingual knitters, of being sub-titled. Grandpa Flea is very well trained now and gives me a running commentary if I'm distracted by the dropped stitch or frogging-in-progress, but I have learnt this week, after many aborted attempts (five in total!) to turn the heel on the second of my first ever pair of socks that I cannot watch SBS and do the sock thing simultaneously. This poor pair of knee length socks has already been dragged all over New Zealand, to and from various other places, been frogged once already from the ankle back up to the basque below the knee (because it is a K3 P2 rib and on my return from three weeks sightseeing in NZ I discovered many purl stitches where I had dropped back into the habit of K2 P2 - damn!) and they are looking quite old and pilled (it's Patonyle). However, I have at last turned the heel and whilst I'm not proud of the quality of the knitting and the turn, I'm ecstatic that I have managed to do it! I think I'm about to develop a sock knitting habit. One more FO to send out into the world. I'll add a photo to this post as soon as I can pin Grandpa Flea down long enough to wrestle his shoes and socks off so he can model them for me!
Lara has started coming to the Cherryhills knitting group, and at a recent meeting she had some hand-dyed Patonyle which looked great. I think I might have to give it a try. Lara used food dyes, and I have just bought a pile of extremely toxic looking food dyes to make cup-cakes a la Yarnstorm for the littlest Flea's 5th birthday next weekend.
Sunday, 10 June 2007
Thursday, 7 June 2007
Fleabites apology ....
To all those people who wander onto this site through a google search for information on fleabites - please accept my apologies. I obviously have some experience with fleas - otherwise, how would I know that fleas resemble children? It is very true that if you have a flea plague - or even ONE flea - that it makes life very difficult - just when you are quietly settled down - or even when you're fast asleep in bed - or even when you're actively involved in doing something, your quiet/sleep/activity is bound to be interrupted by that pesky little flea - the same thing that happens when you have children or grandchildren. Unlike children and grandchildren, however, there is no up-side to fleas. They don't give you cuddles and kisses; they don't want to snuggle quietly on your lap; they don't look lovingly into your eyes and say "I love you Grandma Flea" - but then again, they don't examine your face intently and say "Grandma, when are you going to die?" or "Grandma, you need to get new teeth" (a bit difficult when you don't have dentures).
It is possible to exterminate fleas, and we often do, while we only wish that we could put children and grandchildren into suspended animation from the time they turn thirteen until they are twenty or so and all done with the teenage rebellions.
As for fleabites - a mixture of baking soda and vinegar is a handy remedy for itching when you don't have any proprietary stop-itch stuff around. For the other sorts of fleas, when all else fails, a video or a computer game may leave you feeling just a little bit guilty, but will give you some relief from the itching for a little while.
Good luck!
It is possible to exterminate fleas, and we often do, while we only wish that we could put children and grandchildren into suspended animation from the time they turn thirteen until they are twenty or so and all done with the teenage rebellions.
As for fleabites - a mixture of baking soda and vinegar is a handy remedy for itching when you don't have any proprietary stop-itch stuff around. For the other sorts of fleas, when all else fails, a video or a computer game may leave you feeling just a little bit guilty, but will give you some relief from the itching for a little while.
Good luck!
Wednesday, 6 June 2007
Stash ....gulp ..... enhancement ....
You know how it is - one minute you're vowing that you'll reduce the UFO pile, that you WILL NOT start anything new until you have finished more than one UFO - and then, across a crowded yarn shop, your eyes see - someone else, holding THE most beautiful combination of yarns that you have ever seen .... all the good resolutions run out the door. You feel the silver tongued devil sitting on your shoulder whispering in your ear - go on girl - you KNOW you want it - what harm can come from a little bit of wool? - the little Flea will look bee-ute-i-ful in those colours - you know she's been asking you to knit her a pink shawl FOR MONTHS - and you haven't even started one - how can you look into those big brown eyes again and tell her that?? And if you're careful, Grandpa Flea need never know!!
Five minutes later, you're walking out the door, bag heavier, purse lighter - justifying yourself, as the guilt slowly creeps up to meet you - it wasn't very much - less than $50 - only $49.99! - of course I'll need to put some other yarn with it - but little Flea will LOVE it - she'll be so pleased - I hope Grandpa Flea doesn't see the bag ..... he'll say "I thought we were decluttering" - "you've already got more wool than you can ever knit" - "you could knit all day, every day until you die and you'd still have wool left over" ....."where are you going to put it in our new house - it's smaller, REMEMBER" ... "you should be selling it, not buying it". Who needs self generated guilt when Grandpa Flea's around? But he does have a point .... just a small one, but a point, nevertheless.
Once home, a quick flick through the SMALL amount of stash that has not been packed away during the house sale, and the yarn for the prospective shawl has grown to this.
An hour or so later, and a shawl is on the needles. What happened to the UFOs? I hear you ask - ah, well, um .. it's like this - the squares for an indeterminate purpose have been hastily put together for a doll's blankie - and the remaining yarn returned to stash. The long socks - half knitted in New Zealand last year, have made some progress - one is finished and the other is up to the heel. It would have been finished except that two balls of Patonyle were not enough! and I had to join another ball in, half way along the instep, so I decided to frog back and make the join before the ankle. The last sock should be finished very soon and it can then go to the elderly gentleman with cold legs who lives near my daughter (I think I mentioned in an earlier post that I did buy him a pair of long possum fur and wool socks while in NZ as it was clear the socks wouldn't be finished last winter. Possums are a protected animal in Australia, but they are an imported pest in NZ and cause a lot of problems for the NZ wild life - destroying the native habitat with their voracious appetites, and breeding like fruit flies because there are no natural predators to keep the numbers under control).
Speaking of possums, there has been a lot of fighting going on over the last couple of weeks, and the shy possum who nested in the tree house opposite our deck disappeared and there was quite a lot of possum fur around on the ground all over the yard. I'm not sure if the possum was taken by a cat or fox, or vanquished by a superior possum and gone off to sulk somewhere. The possum box is inhabited again, but I think it is a newcomer - it's a bit hard to tell. The other night the inhabitant of the second box, who is REALLY shy, was making its appearance, well after dark and I managed to catch part of it with the camera.
It's hard to take photos at night as I can't see anything on the little screen, and just have to point and click and HOPE!
Wednesday, 30 May 2007
Meme correction ...
The Knitting Curmudgeon recently gave some good links explaining the term "meme". Until I read these, I had thought "meme" was a symptom of the current social order - ME! ME! ME! - as they all seem to be about the tagee. The word is not in the third edition of The Macquarie Dictionary (Australia's National Dictionary) though, which makes me think it is a word originating in the internet. Maybe the links I mentioned actually say that, as I have a bad habit of only half reading things. However, to come to the subject of this post (ME!) - No. 6 of my seven random facts is something you could know about me from reading earlier posts - i.e. I have no spatial ability. So here is a replacement:
6. I learnt to knit when I was 18. The first thing I made was a bright red crew neck jumper in bluebell crepe. It had crossed and split stitches all through it but I thought I was so clever. The second thing I made was a large dark green cardigan/coat in a boucle yarn. This was my first contact with the world of intuitive knitters. One of the girls in my year of training had knitted herself this cardi/coat and lined it with a some sort of polyester satin material. I was absolutley amazed that she did this WITHOUT A PATTERN FOR THE LINING! She explained to the rest of us, that she just put the pieces of knitting down on the material and cut around them - and bingo! she had a lined cardigan. Back then, (in the olden days) it used to be VERY cold. I had a two hour journey to and from classes, with long waits for connections on windy train stations and bus stops and I was ALWAYS cold. So I followed the instructions and had a wonderful warm jacket to wear. It didn't have any ease in the lining but I was as skinny as a rake in those days, and it was a big loose fitting garment, so it didn't really matter. I don't think any other piece of knitting I've done has ever given me the same sense of achievement.
6. I learnt to knit when I was 18. The first thing I made was a bright red crew neck jumper in bluebell crepe. It had crossed and split stitches all through it but I thought I was so clever. The second thing I made was a large dark green cardigan/coat in a boucle yarn. This was my first contact with the world of intuitive knitters. One of the girls in my year of training had knitted herself this cardi/coat and lined it with a some sort of polyester satin material. I was absolutley amazed that she did this WITHOUT A PATTERN FOR THE LINING! She explained to the rest of us, that she just put the pieces of knitting down on the material and cut around them - and bingo! she had a lined cardigan. Back then, (in the olden days) it used to be VERY cold. I had a two hour journey to and from classes, with long waits for connections on windy train stations and bus stops and I was ALWAYS cold. So I followed the instructions and had a wonderful warm jacket to wear. It didn't have any ease in the lining but I was as skinny as a rake in those days, and it was a big loose fitting garment, so it didn't really matter. I don't think any other piece of knitting I've done has ever given me the same sense of achievement.
Tuesday, 29 May 2007
Possums and things that bite ...
Possum lovers - hop over to Susan's site for a possum story!
Whenever we have overseas visitors, invariably, almost the first thing they tell us, after they get over the jet lag, is that Australia is a VERY dangerous place - poisonous spiders, crocodiles, the most poisonous snakes in all the world, kangaroos that disembowel you, and sharks, lurk around every corner. They know this because they watch the Discovery Channel. We, of course, find this very funny - but the boot was on the other foot a few years ago, when we visited Canada and took a trip up into the Rockies - in Spring - when the BEARS! are starting to come out of hibernation.
Now, I have no trouble admitting that I belong to the order of WIMPS - I'd read all the stuff about BEARS! in the forest, the importance of making noise to let them you are there, backing away, not getting between a mother and her cubs and ...... the list of things went on. I was TERRIFIED of meeting a BEAR! - did you know they can rip your head off? And I don't even have the Discovery Channel! Needless to say, our friends in Vancouver thought this was VERY funny (- but what would they know? They live in a city!) So we set forth, intrepid travellers. Every time we took a walk into the forest, my heart rate would go up to 160, my blood pressure would rise and I felt SO anxious. Every leaf that moved or branch that rustled was a BEAR!. I was almost paralytic with fear. Two weeks later, the BEARS! had still not been sighted. We were beginning to feel very deprived. We started to walk rather more softly, in case we scared them away ...... and then, when we least expected it ..... we saw a BEAR! ..... from the car. It was sitting on the railway track eating grain that had fallen from a freight car. We flew out of the car - a BEAR! - down in the culvert - hah! - we weren't afraid! As Grandpa Flea pointed the camera at it, it turned around and spotted us - it started to change position (so I thought) and my flight response went into overdrive. Before you could say BEAR! I was back in the car with the doors locked (great defence that one!). BEAR! went back to his dinner and Grandpa Flea took a photo.
Some days later we were on the Rocky Mountaineer. They have a poetry competition as a way of passing the time while the train sits for hours, waiting for the freight trains to pass on the way into Vancouver Station. Today, when I was cleaning out one of the MANY cupboards full of bits of paper, I found my entry. Here it is for your enjoyment or ridicule - I am no poet, but I had fun (and I now won't need to keep the bit of paper as a souvenir).
BEAR! Phobia
We come from the land downunder, where skies are blue and sands are white,
And there are lots of things that bite - crocodiles and poisonous snakes,
Not to mention sharks that wait - for tourists on their dinner plates.
And yet it's strange that we survive - even all the children thrive!
But now we've ventured far from home, to Canada where wild things roam
Apon the stony mountain tracks, waiting for a tourist snack.
I fear them here, I fear them there, but most, I fear those big black bears.
I walk with weak and trembling knees, making noise as I pass trees.
And every now and then I shout, to let them know that I'm about.
The days have passed, I'm still alive - I wonder where those bears all hide?
I seek them here, I seek them there, I seek those black bears everwhere!
I hold my breath and make no noise, I walk with ballet dancer's poise -
And still those bears don't give two hoots, about MY need for photo shoots.
You'd think they'd know that it's just not, the way to treat the tourist lot.
But now, at last, I see a bear! He's big and black with lots of hair,
Sitting on the railroad track, munching on a morning snack.
He hears the noise - I make to run - bears are really not much fun!
But all his does is lift his head - looks at me with great disdain
Turns his back and eats again.
Whenever we have overseas visitors, invariably, almost the first thing they tell us, after they get over the jet lag, is that Australia is a VERY dangerous place - poisonous spiders, crocodiles, the most poisonous snakes in all the world, kangaroos that disembowel you, and sharks, lurk around every corner. They know this because they watch the Discovery Channel. We, of course, find this very funny - but the boot was on the other foot a few years ago, when we visited Canada and took a trip up into the Rockies - in Spring - when the BEARS! are starting to come out of hibernation.
Now, I have no trouble admitting that I belong to the order of WIMPS - I'd read all the stuff about BEARS! in the forest, the importance of making noise to let them you are there, backing away, not getting between a mother and her cubs and ...... the list of things went on. I was TERRIFIED of meeting a BEAR! - did you know they can rip your head off? And I don't even have the Discovery Channel! Needless to say, our friends in Vancouver thought this was VERY funny (- but what would they know? They live in a city!) So we set forth, intrepid travellers. Every time we took a walk into the forest, my heart rate would go up to 160, my blood pressure would rise and I felt SO anxious. Every leaf that moved or branch that rustled was a BEAR!. I was almost paralytic with fear. Two weeks later, the BEARS! had still not been sighted. We were beginning to feel very deprived. We started to walk rather more softly, in case we scared them away ...... and then, when we least expected it ..... we saw a BEAR! ..... from the car. It was sitting on the railway track eating grain that had fallen from a freight car. We flew out of the car - a BEAR! - down in the culvert - hah! - we weren't afraid! As Grandpa Flea pointed the camera at it, it turned around and spotted us - it started to change position (so I thought) and my flight response went into overdrive. Before you could say BEAR! I was back in the car with the doors locked (great defence that one!). BEAR! went back to his dinner and Grandpa Flea took a photo.
Some days later we were on the Rocky Mountaineer. They have a poetry competition as a way of passing the time while the train sits for hours, waiting for the freight trains to pass on the way into Vancouver Station. Today, when I was cleaning out one of the MANY cupboards full of bits of paper, I found my entry. Here it is for your enjoyment or ridicule - I am no poet, but I had fun (and I now won't need to keep the bit of paper as a souvenir).
BEAR! Phobia
We come from the land downunder, where skies are blue and sands are white,
And there are lots of things that bite - crocodiles and poisonous snakes,
Not to mention sharks that wait - for tourists on their dinner plates.
And yet it's strange that we survive - even all the children thrive!
But now we've ventured far from home, to Canada where wild things roam
Apon the stony mountain tracks, waiting for a tourist snack.
I fear them here, I fear them there, but most, I fear those big black bears.
I walk with weak and trembling knees, making noise as I pass trees.
And every now and then I shout, to let them know that I'm about.
The days have passed, I'm still alive - I wonder where those bears all hide?
I seek them here, I seek them there, I seek those black bears everwhere!
I hold my breath and make no noise, I walk with ballet dancer's poise -
And still those bears don't give two hoots, about MY need for photo shoots.
You'd think they'd know that it's just not, the way to treat the tourist lot.
But now, at last, I see a bear! He's big and black with lots of hair,
Sitting on the railroad track, munching on a morning snack.
He hears the noise - I make to run - bears are really not much fun!
But all his does is lift his head - looks at me with great disdain
Turns his back and eats again.
Thursday, 24 May 2007
Let's play tag ...
Miss Fee has tagged me for the 7 random facts meme -
Rules of engagement: "Each person tagged gives seven random facts about themselves. Those tagged need to write on their blogs seven facts, as well as the rules of the game. You need to tag seven others and list their names on your blog. You have to leave those you plan on tagging a note in their comments so they know that they have been tagged and need to read your blog".
So here goes - 7 random facts that you would not know from reading this blog:
1. I finished school at 16, and at 19 was loosed apon the world as a licensed speech pathologist. I had no idea what I was I doing and the world was a better place when I left work a couple of years later.
2. I have one sibling - a brother 6 years younger than me - he briefly and mistakenly appeared on this blog as my avatar.
3. At 35, I returned to study and graduated with a BA in psychology.
4. I have been married longer than anyone else I know (more or less) - 42 years - and all to my first husband (aka Grandpa Flea)!
5. I love baked cheesecake.
6. I have no spatial ability.
7. When I was a child I had a black and white cocker spaniel called Ben Chifley. My brother had a golden cocker called Doc Evatt. (For those of you who do not know Australian political history, they were both Labor politicians)
It is actually very hard to nominate 7 people that I think wouldn't be, or haven't been, tagged already. I hereby pass the tag onto these people whose blogs I read and enjoy - if anyone objects to their name being here, I'm more than happy to remove it:
Janette
Roxie
Maud
Susan
Marie (1)
Franklin
Marie (2)
Enjoy!
Rules of engagement: "Each person tagged gives seven random facts about themselves. Those tagged need to write on their blogs seven facts, as well as the rules of the game. You need to tag seven others and list their names on your blog. You have to leave those you plan on tagging a note in their comments so they know that they have been tagged and need to read your blog".
So here goes - 7 random facts that you would not know from reading this blog:
1. I finished school at 16, and at 19 was loosed apon the world as a licensed speech pathologist. I had no idea what I was I doing and the world was a better place when I left work a couple of years later.
2. I have one sibling - a brother 6 years younger than me - he briefly and mistakenly appeared on this blog as my avatar.
3. At 35, I returned to study and graduated with a BA in psychology.
4. I have been married longer than anyone else I know (more or less) - 42 years - and all to my first husband (aka Grandpa Flea)!
5. I love baked cheesecake.
6. I have no spatial ability.
7. When I was a child I had a black and white cocker spaniel called Ben Chifley. My brother had a golden cocker called Doc Evatt. (For those of you who do not know Australian political history, they were both Labor politicians)
It is actually very hard to nominate 7 people that I think wouldn't be, or haven't been, tagged already. I hereby pass the tag onto these people whose blogs I read and enjoy - if anyone objects to their name being here, I'm more than happy to remove it:
Janette
Roxie
Maud
Susan
Marie (1)
Franklin
Marie (2)
Enjoy!
Biggest Morning Tea
So, a few days ago at the Guild, we had a "Biggest Morning Tea" for the NSW Cancer Council. This is a fund raising activity to aid research and development in the field of cancer. Morning teas are held all over NSW. It has a special significance for us this year, as three of our members are currently battling cancer - they were all there at the Biggest Morning Tea, looking wonderful. In conjunction with the morning tea, we have a tea cosy competition. This year we had the largest number of entries yet, about 35 and Sue from our LYS, Cherryhills, paid a visit to do the judging.
Just in case you think you can spot a beanie or two, one of the categories was "When is a tea cosy not a tea cosy - when it's a hat".
In the photo above, my tea cosy is the cyclamen pink one with the handle of the teapot pointing towards the viewer. It is a chevron pattern with a rose on top. The yarn was given to me by Janette - I think for the skirt I started to knit for Ms 11, but it went to a good cause as the tea cosy was donated for sale for charity. It cost $5 to enter the competition and that included morning tea. Morning tea was $5 and we also had a raffle with a large basket of donated goodies - being shown off here by our raffle organiser extraordinaire.
Members of the group all brought plates, a small band of people came in on the weekend to set up and dcorate the room - it looked amazing.
One of the women in the Guild had won a first prize in a local show and had brought the winning tablecloth in to show us - this a shot of the pattern detail:
What can you say to this - it's beautiful - and there was so much of it.
We had a great day knitting, talking, eating, laughing, buying raffle tickets and of course, washing up! In all we raised $800 for cancer research. Well done to all involved!
Just in case you think you can spot a beanie or two, one of the categories was "When is a tea cosy not a tea cosy - when it's a hat".
In the photo above, my tea cosy is the cyclamen pink one with the handle of the teapot pointing towards the viewer. It is a chevron pattern with a rose on top. The yarn was given to me by Janette - I think for the skirt I started to knit for Ms 11, but it went to a good cause as the tea cosy was donated for sale for charity. It cost $5 to enter the competition and that included morning tea. Morning tea was $5 and we also had a raffle with a large basket of donated goodies - being shown off here by our raffle organiser extraordinaire.
Members of the group all brought plates, a small band of people came in on the weekend to set up and dcorate the room - it looked amazing.
One of the women in the Guild had won a first prize in a local show and had brought the winning tablecloth in to show us - this a shot of the pattern detail:
What can you say to this - it's beautiful - and there was so much of it. We had a great day knitting, talking, eating, laughing, buying raffle tickets and of course, washing up! In all we raised $800 for cancer research. Well done to all involved!
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