The Car

I'm in love with my car
Gotta feel for my automobile
I'm in love with my car
String back glove in my automolove...

- Queen, 'I'm In Love With My Car'

It's probably not a big secret that I love cars. I love everything about them. I love the downshift they make when you change gears. I love the noise. I love how things light up. I even quite love the smell of petrol, even though our car is a diesel and it smells a little different. I also love driving itself.

I learned to drive about over two years ago now. My instructor was a a fireman who had been trained to drive emergency vehicles at high speeds and in dangerous situations. Immediately my thought was, my kind of guy. I spent many happy days learning to drive and learning little tricks about driving from him. At the time I didn't knit, and I did't have the friends I have now because of knitting, so Barney was pretty much the first friend I made here in London, and our driving lessons were all I had to look forward to.

Apart from having a funny and knowledgeable Londoner as my driving instructor, I also had the good fortune to have Nick's father. Daddy Irish loves driving. Driving's a big part of his work. I always thought that this had to do with the fact that Grandpa Irish, Daddy Irish's dad, also drove a lot. In fact Grandpa Irish has been driving since he was sixteen and has never had an accident. He'll be eight-four this year, which makes that nearly seventy years of being on the road.

In the Irish family, as soon as you're sixteen Daddy Irish marches you to the car, slaps on a couple of L plates, and takes you out. He will calmly sit in the passenger seat and just, well, let you drive. There is an industrial estate not far from Wolverley; Nick has driven around there. Lindsay has driven around there. Jonathan has gone around there. So has David. And so have I.

Daddy Irish made Barney's job a lot easier. And once Nick relaxed enough to let me do some long-distance driving - by this I mean stopped hanging on to the door handles for dear life, or shutting his eyes whenever I reverse or take a corner - it was easy enough for Barney to ask, week to week, if I'd done any miles over the weekend.

London to Southampton is about 80 miles. London to Wolverley is about 120 miles. It was easy to clock up driving hours.

And as it turned out, I developed a heavy right foot. We're pretty sure we know who to blame for this. There was the instance where Daddy Irish did a 40mph-to-70mph-to-40mph maneuvre in order to overtake someone, and Mummy Irish in the back started screaming something about setting a bad example for me. Not that I cared.

Or the instance when we were massively delayed in London and we had to get to Wolverley before midnight, and I'd warned Nick and Mark that I was driving, I wasn't going to stop at any services, and they'd just have to hang tight. We got there in record time, with Mummy Irish coming out of the house screaming something about how I was going to get flashed for speeding. Not that Daddy Irish seemed all that concerned.

(Before it seems like Mummy Irish is a screaming sort of person, she isn't really. She's just not has heavy-footed with the accelerator as me or Daddy Irish and doesn't relish the idea of either of us getting into trouble).

We'd started with a Nissan Micra called Michaelangelo, a car that was quite literally driven by a little old lady just to go to the shops a couple of times a week. It went missing once, but we got it back. After that fiasco, and in fact while the car was still missing we'd considered our options for a new car. Eventually, given that we couldn't get a second-hand Renault Megane diesel for love or money, we bought the one Nick's parents had off them.

I love this car. I love it to pieces. It corners beautifully, it handles perfectly, it does anything you tell it to. I love driving on A roads and so does the car. In fact, I don't think the car was happier than it was when we were in the Lake District and both the car and I fell in love with the A591. I love it even more now that it has a great sound system and an iPod stereo, and I can rock my way to anywhere.

But since last July, we've had to keep replacing bits of it. A CV joint, first. Then a back window got broken. And then a timing belt. And then not long after that, the car started spewing white smoke and we had to get towed to our local garage because the alternator had gone. 

My beloved car, which we call Sun Szu, was starting to cost us a heck of a lot of money. But we couldn't afford to replace it, we couldn't afford not to fix it, and I still love it far too much. By the time we had to replace the hand brake and a completely dead battery - just as an extra kick in the teeth, the battery our diesel car uses is more expensive than usual - I was begging the car to please, please, just stop breaking.

Because of the deep freeze we had earlier in the year, the workings of the driver's side window pretty much shattered. That was the most recent repair. I wasn't sure how much more I was going to be able to take, when yesterday as I drove away from our parking lot, I heard a loud, rattling, clunking noise. It sounded like lumps of metal being thrown about.

I panicked. I rang the garage, and they said they could check out my car in the afternoon. I went about my day, did my errands in town, and then took the car to the garage. Again.

We drove around in the car until it made the noise again. I was starting to sound like a lunatic because I would hear it and go, "See! There! Did you hear that?" and the guy would go, "No..."

But as we returned to the garage, he heard it. And had no idea what it was. He called another mechanic out and got him to have a listen. Eventually, they decided to put the car on the ramp.

My car was about 6 feet up off the ground, and I stood by, trying to do math, wondering how much this was going to cost now. I think I was ready for a heart attack.

I watched the mechanic pry off the front left hubcap, and wondered why he was cheering when something fell out. He brought it over to me. I had no idea what it was. He asked me to follow him, and showed me how there were three wheel bolts on, and one in his hand. The one he had in his hand, he scraped over the wheelbase, and that was the noise I'd been hearing.

A loose wheel bolt, rattling around inside the hubcap.

"Did you change this tyre recently?"

I said yes. He asked who'd changed it.

All I ended up saying was, "I am going to kill my husband."

The garage had a good laugh, and bless them charged me nothing for the trouble. Nick was very, very apologetic when he got home. But really, I'm just glad my car is fine, and I know that when the time comes I'm going to have a hard time letting it go.

The Christmas Knitting That Was & Still Is

Now, there was Christmas knitting, but I've been a little lazy and not really blogged them yet, but here they are!

The Christmas before, I'd knitted Lindsay a Joni hat, and at some point I'd promised her a pair of matching fingerless gloves. I had the Endpaper Mitts lined up for ages, and as I was using the same yarn in the same colours, I knew that yarn and pattern were the perfect match.

It was a nice, easy knit, and as long as I kept an odd counting method going on in my head, I rarely went wrong. I also found that when I do colourwork, I knit half as fast, because half the work is picking the other colour in my left hand, and I'm a faster knitter when I'm picking lefthanded than I am throwing righthanded. That made knitting these a breeze.

Plus, I learned a new cast-on and cast-off, the matching Tubular methods. The cast-off in particular is well-worth it and gives a gerat result despite being a little fiddly. But as it's also known as the Kitchener bind-off, you get a nice familiar rhythm going.

Pattern: Endpaper Mitts by Eunny Jang
Yarn: Shibui Sock in Periwinkle and Bark, under half a skein each
Needles: 2.75mm and 3.0mm on 80cm cable

Long before Christmas rolled around, though, I'd knitted another Opera Scarf exactly like the one I'd knit for myself a couple of years ago now for Nick. He'd chosen the colour back when I knit the one for myself, but I never got around to knitting it until Stash got their stock in and needed a good pattern to showcase the yarn.

The scarf lived in the shop for a couple of months until Nick declared that his neck was cold; could he have his scarf, please?

As far as I can tell, he loves it. He wears it to work and back, especially since we've had this wonderful cold snap. He very happily tells me when he's wearing it, and carefully hangs it up on the door along with his coat when he comes home.

Pattern: Opera Scarf by Deb Peterson (Ravelry link)
Yarn: Misti Alpaca International Hand Paint Chunky in Azulichen
Needles: 9.0mm

Amidst all this, over Christmas - and in fact, just before the family's traditional Boxing Day walk - Daddy Irish sheepishly proclaimed that he had a confession to make. Now, it turns out that you are only a true knitter when you realize that when someone says they have a confession to make, it might have to do with a knitted item you had previously gifted them.

He had no idea where his hat was. So, you see, he hadn't lost it; he just doesn't know where it is.

Okay. So fine, I was happy to knit him a new one, and when we ventured into a John Lewis later that week, I picked out Rowan's Cocoon for him, and he chose the colour.

Can I just say, I am pretty damned proud to know a man who's not scared of a bit of bold colour.

I bet, though, that as soon as he receives this one, the original hat will turn up. It's just how it works.

Looking Back: 2009

I nicked this from Alice's blog, who in turn nicked it from her dear friend's blog. I think it sums up pretty well how 2009 panned out for me.

This year’s amazing revelation: It takes a while to muster the courage to do something, and when you finally do, it's amazing how easy it is to go, "Fuck yeah. Let's do this."

Most favourite part of the year: The entire time spent training for Trailwalker 2009. Six months of random hikes, extra time with my father-in-law, discovering pieces of England I never knew were so challenging, so beautiful and so rewarding.

Hottest vacation: As we didn't do the tour of duty this year, or go anywhere, really, I guess if you call staying in London over the summer a vacation...

Best restaurant this year: Gaucho, the one by Tower Bridge. Sometimes, if I really think about it, I can still taste that fillet steak in my mouth.

My best week this year: The week in the Lake District with Nick. We so needed that time, and our little stone cottage slapped onto the side of a hill was perfect.

Most exciting game this year: Borderlands on the XBox 360. I had no idea I was such a good shot.

Longest walk this year: 37.4km out of 100km for Trailwalker 2009. Hopefully someday soon I will have all 100km under my belt.

The year’s longest project: Training for Trailwalker for six months, and realizing that it was never training, because it's now damned near an obsession. This is a project that will never end, and I hope it stays that way.

Best events of the year: Solidifying ties with my knitting friends, being able to meet up with them at least every couple of weeks, my surprise 30th birthday party, Trailwalker 2009.

Most amount of time spent on the water this year: Does skating around on the snow and ice in February and December count as being on the water?

Most amount of time spent this year living without any females: Living without them? Nigh-impossible, thanks to the lovely Chantelle's frequent visits. Otherwise it's the hours I spend walking with Daddy Irish, or Mark and Martin.

Cultural event of the year: If comedy counts as culture, then there was a couple of Russell Howard gigs and a Bill Bailey gig. But we also went to Bill Bailey's Remarkable Guide to the Orchestra, watched the London Philharmonic Orchestra accompany The Fellowship of the Ring and the London Symphony Orchestra perform film scores from over 70 years of cinema. Best one? Lenny Henry in Othello.

Best stupid movie: I don't know if we saw any stupid ones. Perhaps Kung Fu Panda counts under 'best silly movie'?

This year’s most monotonous job: Doing our accounting.

Saddest events this year: Michelle leaving Stash Yarns, and then Stash Yarns having to close down. I think I should count my self fortunate that these are the saddest events in my year...

Shock of the year: Finding out exactly how badly formed my feet are. I can't believe how much work is going to have to go into fixing them up.

Most hopeful action this year: Everything that came after Stash closed. So many plans, and now so much time to dedicate to them.

Most absurd situation of the year: Everything to do with the car. First a CV joint, then an alternator, then the alternator's belt split in half... there was a broken window, a flat tire, a dead battery, and a spongy handbrake that woudln't work. So please, car, stop this. Give me a problem-free year, okay?

Silliest joke of the year: There have been many, but I think the thing that nearly killed me with laughter was Nick uttering the line, "The c-word, Mother, is c***," quite straight-faced, to his mum, when she asked the question.

Most beautiful sight: The Sussex countryside from Devil's Dyke, on 'my' fence.

Best thing this year found on the ground: The most sonw I've ever seen in my life, and the most London has seen in nearly 20 years.

Worst thing this year found on the ground: A dead fox, frozen in a lake near where I live. It must have fallen through the ice going after the moorhens.

Biggest surprise of this year: A wrap that Ruth knitted me for Christmas. Designed just for me!

Greatest technological improvement: We got iPhones. And all the nonsense that comes with them.

This year’s most studious person: Tie between Ruth, Diane and Alice. All three have worked so hard at what they've been doing and are still doing.

Strangest (most convincing?) dream of the year: I don't remember a lot of them, and the ones that are most vivid are always zombie dreams. And I hate zombie dreams...

Most anticipated house guest: Chantelle. Always Chantelle.

New Year’s resolution:  To be happier.

And Here We Go, 2010

We've had a perfectly lovely Christmas. There was food, and gifts, and walks - despite unrepaired heels - and a lot of quiet time. There was a new coat, a fabric shop, a stack of DVDs, and even some yarn.

Last year I dug out the previous year's list of accomplishments to see what I did and did not do. I won't bother this year because I know I utterly failed in many of them. But this is no time to dwell on the failures, because there are new things afoot.

The Knit Love Sock Club: A new sock club, once again organized by the wonderful Alice. I only managed to knit one pair from last year's Socktopus Sock Club, so I'm looking forward to spending more time knitting the past and upcoming socks in their lovely yarns.

Knit Nation 2010: A big fat fibrey, socky event to look forward to in July. I am pretty much spinning my weekend away at the event, so I have the time between now and then to practice my spinning more.

Back to school: A new long-term course lined up with the Open College of the Arts, and given the Distinction I got with my Creative Writing unit at the Open University, I'll be applying to so the Advanced course so that hopefully I'll have my Diploma by next summer. 

More time at the cinema: a BFI membership, a Cineworld pass, and I'm all set to start reading and learning about cinema again, and hopefully start a film blog.

More walking: I have an appointment with an NHS podiatrist in the week, and between that, the pilates and the trips to the osteopath every so often, I'm hoping to be all good and fixed so that I can get more miles under my belt, and become more fit in general.

All this seems easier and more possible now that I don't really have a job anymore, even though I will certainly have to be a lot more frugal. But I guess given how I've been in the last year, it may be safe to say that I will be happier now doing the things I want to do while being frugal.

That's the final thing, really, for this new 2010: to be happier.

It's not a lot to ask, and so very easy to do.

Merry Christmas, Everyone

The house is clean.

The presents are wrapped.

The Christmas breads are baked.

So we are outta here, ladies and gentlemen.

See you in 2010.

Christmas is On its Way

It's been a trying time, but it's all good now.

Nick is at his second day of work with his new job at a consultancy, and he's very happy. Five months felt like forever and I know that I've been a miserable old cow through most of it, but I've been very fortunate to have amazing friends who tell me that it's all going to be okay, and they were, of course, right.

Meanwhile, in a weird ironic way, I am having my first day no longer at work. My beloved Stash Yarns has closed down after three and a half years, and while I am very sad that my second home, my place of work, my meeting point for all my friends, is gone, there is a degree of relief. It was very hard for us for a while, and I suppose now we can all move on to other things, to take care of ourselves finally. But I will miss it.

Again, during that difficult and confusing time, I was surrounded by wonderful, caring people. And with Christmas fast approaching, there were surprises in store for me.

This being the first:

I'd signed up for the Knit Love Club 2010, and to herald in the new club, Alice decided to have a Mini Sock Swap. Participants had a small budget for gifts, information for which we got off a questionnaire, and we were to knit a small sock or two.

And above is what I received from my swap partner. Three little bars of chocolate (all gone now), some lovely purple heart stitch markers, a little sock knit from The Yarn Yard's gorgeous Macushla yarn. But what touched me most was the book.

Last Christmas as a bonus Christmas and birthday present, Nick and I got Daddy Irish the complete boxed set of Wainwright's Lake District walks, which now has pride of place on his bedside bookshelf. Someday I will want a set for myself, and I love the thought of the pair of us just working out way through all these walks. Walking is now the thing Daddy Irish and I do together, and so it means a lot to me that Francesca spotted this detail on my blog and decided that I should have this book. In her note she said that the Wainwright books were part of her childhood, and she hoped as a fellow hiker, I would enjoy the book.

I do. I very much do. 

In the meantime there was another Christmas swap going on with the Socktopods, which I didn't take part in, but got invited to the afternoon tea event where everyone would give their gifts to their swap partners. Perhaps this was a ruse, a clever cover up for this to turn up at my seat:

It's from Mel, and it was Mel who cleverly asked, "Will you be coming along to afternoon tea?" and insisted there was no reason for me not to just because I didn't take part in the swap.

And how she stuffed all this into the little bag, I will never know.

Tea, a little square of soap, a reindeer picture frame, a velvety sock to hang up somewhere, a stack of bright yellow Post-It notes and a selection of Kool-Aid with which to dye the skein of merino/tencel sock yarn.

She said it was because I'd been having a hard time, what with the shop and Nick still looking for work at the time, and she figured I needed some early Christmas cheer.

I'm not really sure what I'd done to deserve these people, but whatever it was, I'm so very glad I did it.

It's looking to be a very good Christmas indeed.

And So NaBloPoMo Ends

So what did I get out of NaBloPoMo then, given that unlike NaNoWriMo, I didn't exactly get the equivalent of a novel out of it?

I remembered why I enjoy blogging, and that I should do it more, and not just not do it simply because I always feel that a post without a photo of something - anything - seems like a cop-out.

Yeah, I know. It sounds daft.

I remembered how much I enjoy writing, even if it's just little bits and pieces to fill a space. I found myself ducking into one of my shelves a few days ago to find an empty Pukka pad to start carrying around just so I can fill a page or so with random thought, if I ever wanted to.

I found that I actually like taking photos with my iPhone, even though previously I hated the idea of combining a phone with a camera. I like that it's somewhat freeform but challenging at the same time, and how I can always have the opportunity to record a precious moment even though I don't have my true camera with me.

I discovered that even though it feels like there isn't enough time in the day, there is always time to be made somehow, and if I can make myself sit here and blog every day for the last 30 days, I can make that little bit of time to do lots of other little things.

So it's been fun, and difficult, and sometimes a little crazy - "Crap! It's nearly midnight! I need to blog!" sounds incredibly sad depending on how you look at it; it's not like I'll turn into a pumpkin if I don't do it - but I think I got a lot out of it and I certainly enjoyed it.

Having said that, I look forward to the more sedate pace I'll be taking from tomorrow onwards. Thirty posts in thirty days is pretty hard work, and the holiday season is nearly upon us. 

You Don't Need To Wait Till Christmas...

... to make someone happy.

I had a silly list of things I wanted to knit for people for Christmas this year. The list never started that big, but grew the more I felt that there were people in my life who needed a little something special to brighten up their year.

The list was so silly I felt doomed to never complete it, even though I already finished two of the things on the list and was set to cast on more. 

And then Emma came to my rescue, and proclaimed that why should I make people wait till Christmas if I wanted to cheer them up? Why can't it just be gift knitting and not holiday gift knitting?

She is wise.

And so recently, two of my favourite people received their sort-of Christmas-but-hey-why-not-enjoy-them-now presents.

For Alice:

Pattern: Copper Penny Socks by Nancy Bush, from Knitting Socks with Handpainted Yarn
Yarn: Spindlefrog BFL/Nylon (75/23) in Tranquility
Needles: 2.5mm on 80cm cable

And for Ruth:

Pattern: Shur'tugal by Alice Yu (Ravelry link)
Yarn: Blue Moon Fiber Arts Socks That Rock Lightweight in Citrine
Needles: 2.5mm on 80cm cable

I hope their feet are very happy, as happy as they themselves are. 

Ow

I have only just emerged from the bed today.

This is because this morning I woke up with my first ever migraine.

I am normally a fleixible thing, and upon encountering a headache, I would just down a couple of tabs and try to sleep it off.

Problem #1 was when there were no tabs in the house to take. Problem #2 emerged when Nick, who is an expert with migraines, asked for a few details, and when I included, "I think my left eyeball is trying to escape from my head," he said, "Yup. You've got a migraine."

So that kind of only left me with sleeping the damned thing off.

This took until just around 8pm.

Luckily I was able to doze on and off, so I'm pretty okay now, but at one point when Nick was going out to get stuff for dinner - carbonara pasta bake - he asked if I needed anything, and as it turns out, you can't get new eye sockets from Sainsbury's.

But I'm better now, and ready to do all the stuff I was supposed to do earlier. I predict that I won't be going to bed particularly early tonight, because I've slept so much.

All Over the Place

That's what I am at the moment.

I have lots of little things to finish before I can think of other things. I've been distracted by lots of other little things - knitting and yarn being the usual culprits, but also thoughts about writing and books to read - that make accomplishing the first set of little things just a teeny bit difficult.

The fact that a tremendous amount of fibre arrived this morning and I could nearly hear my wheel go, "Yay!" has also distracted me some. I think I've certainly gone from 'wanting to spin' to 'needing to spin'.

And then Christmas shopping! Yikes.

For the first time in years we have not quite started. I mean, we've got a few bits and pieces but a trip to the bookstore is still required and I have yet to knit the only thing I have to knit as a Christmas present. As per my strategy I'm going to stall wrapping anything until the week before we go to Nick's parents because I know that Marks & Spencer suddenly put their really good quality wrapping paper under offer. Cheeky, perhaps, but also cunning.

But everything will eventually fall into place, and then we'll have a good break over Christmas with the family. Perhaps then I'll be able to collect myself and not be everywhere and anywhere all the time.

And about the other night: I copped out even more and put on Kung Fu Panda. I have no words for how perfect that film is. And how a particular scene involving a wok makes me collapse every damned time.