Personal

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The Little Things In Life

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First, the obligatory "It is Spring!" photo. Of course I am convinced we will soon see a return to snowy gloom and doom, but I do enjoy being able to walk outside wearing less than five layers.

Secondly, a sock. My first pair were a bonafide success and so I think I need another pair to keep my toes warm at night (it's more hygienic for one thing). I'm using The Yarn Yard Bonny which I bought almost two years ago. Yes, the colourway looked very, very different on the website, but at least there is very little pooling. It is not nowhere as nice to knit with as the Araucania Ranco I used for my Ravelympics project either. I actually tried to swap the Bonny yarn about three weeks ago but nobody cared.. and so it is now becoming a pair of Monkey socks.

And Larry is done! I was putting the final few touches to him on Knit Night Tuesday when we realised that Larry really likes dancing about to silly pop songs. You should see those thin legs swagger. More seriously, I can see a few things wrong with Larry but they are my mistakes (damn time constraints) and not pattern mistakes. It was a fun little project, but I'm not rushing to knit another sheep (besides, Larry would get jealous). Larry will leave Casa Bookish for good tomorrow and I wish him a pleasant new life.

Finally, take a look at Hermes' collection at the Paris Fashion week. It's enough to make my knees wobble with love. Cor.

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Lost Boy? Lost Girl.

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Pop culture and I have an on-off relationship. I mostly attribute this to growing up in Nowheresville, Denmark, in a family obsessed by 1940s and 1950s American popular entertainment (think Frank Sinatra, Vincente Minnelli films and the Great American Songbook), so when I went to school and was surrounded by kids immersed in current music, I was woefully lost. It took me about three months to figure out what song the kids were singing in the playground and, as my family rarely went to see current films, most 1980s teen films completely passed me by. I'm reminded of my 1980s pop culture black hole as most of my peers are reminiscing about The Lost Boys and License to Drive in the wake of Corey Haim's death. I finally saw The Lost Boys some six or seven years ago. It is undeniably an entertaining slice of comedic vampire horror, but I was obviously way too old to connect with it. So, in an odd way, Haim's death does sadden me but my sadness is reserved for that young girl who failed so miserably at fitting in at school and not a shared piece of pop culture fading away reflecting our mortality etc. But watch this space once people like Ewan McGregor (oh, Trainspotting, the film that defined my generation and demographic segment), Jarvis Cocker (playground singing? No, massive dance-floor singalong) or even Douglas Coupland (whose early novels spawned a mild obsession mid-1990s) start 'shuffleing off this mortall coile'. I'll be right here bawling my eyes out and wondering what happened to that bright-eyed lit student girl with the funky charity shop clothes.

A few random links:

Finally, I have promised to mention that Lucky 7 Canteen on Glasgow's Bath Street is super-keen to host knitting groups. They'll keep lighting up and be very happy to serve delicious food/drinks to discerning knitters. Ask for Mel if your knitting group needs a new hang-out.

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A Thoughtful Present

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People's reaction to my sock knitting has been very amusing. One afternoon I was meeting up with a couple of friends and we were merrily knitting along when a woman came up and said very slowly: "Oh. You are. All. Knitting. Socks." We weren't, actually, but I appreciated the stunned tone to the woman's voice.

And how did my Other Half react? He went out and got me a wooden shoe last because, and I quote, "you might want to use it for showcasing your socks on Ravelry photos." I already knew he was a keeper, but it's always pleasant to have this confirmed.

While I am not convinced the last will work for showcasing any socks, I do think it is exceptionally pretty in that 'early-20th C industrial item' way when mass-produced items were still being made in non-industrial materials such as wood, when you could still detect the workman's hand in the final product.

I do also adore the tiny details: the little plaque bearing the manufacturer's name, the stamp, the hinges and the elegant handle.

Ah, if this won't get me sock-knitting, I am not sure what will. I do have a pair of very plain socks on the go and I'm actually looking forward to a no-feet-involved photo shoot now.

Still no word on the missing project bag. I have a mind to go rummage through my workplace's storage facility today (and maybe buy a few books whilst I am in City Centre - those birthday vouchers are burning a hole in my pocket!). I find some comfort in the fact that both David and my mother think I might just have misplaced it. They know me too well.

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Still Winter

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This has been the coldest winter in Scotland since the early 1960s. So I have not just been imagining things nor have I become obsessed by that most British of things: the weather. It has been bloody cold and, despite today's sunshine, it continues to be cold. I am so, so ready for spring to arrive. Failing that, I wouldn't mind spending a week holed up somewhere like this place with its "underfloor heating (..) boosted by a woodburner with logs from the garden (..)  passive ventilation and thick insulation whist inside there is a drying room with an extra radiator to get those outdoor clothes dry after bad weather." To me, that sounds like heaven. But I am in Glasgow and I am wearing my sleeping bag like it's the new black.

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Sunnudagr

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Life itself has caught up with me, so I am running behind on important things such as answering emails, sorting paperwork and, well, doing the dishes. This weekend I have allowed myself some time off and will be cooped up in bed with books, hot tea and a warm duvet. I have finally accepted this is a necessity, not a luxury, if I am to remain relatively sane, capable and congenial. It only took me some thirty years or so. I finished reading China Miéville's The City & the City the other night, though. I had previously tried getting through Adam Roberts' Swiftly (which felt like a disastrous date set up by an online dating agency based upon our preferences and demographics, but the spark wasn't there and we disliked each other from the get-go) and Mark Slouka's The Visible World (which I'm pondering giving a second go), so when I flew through Miéville's novel, I was relieved. I'd recommend it - particularly if you like smart speculative fiction or want a detective novel with an added flourish - although it was a bit too plot-driven for my taste. Also, I liked Miéville's light writerly touches such as naming the border area between the two cities "Copula Hall" (grammar nerd alert).

I'm now awaiting the paperback releases of Colm Toibin's Brooklyn, Hillary Mantel's Wolf Hall and, of course, Margaret Atwood's The Year of the Flood. What books are you looking forward to reading?

Knitting-wise, I have made some headway on my summer top (now forever known as "Frankie Says.." and I'm showing my age) and I have cast on for a second pair of socks(!) seeing as my first pair are lovely, warm and perfect for snuggling up at night (again, showing my age).

And now it is time to do said snuggling under the covers with a book. Have a lovely Sunday.

Embodied

Just a link to another weblog today, but it is a link I encourage you to click. A fellow knitter-in-Scotland, Kate, suffered a stroke some time ago and this is how she is experiencing the recovery process. Without going into too many details, I can relate to her words and her post made me think quite unhappy thoughts about past events in my life. Then I began thinking about how we relate to our bodies, about how we define ourselves and about that strange link between our minds and bodies (a link it took me decades to accept for one reason or another). And how life is one continuous process of defining, discovering and accepting ourselves in ever-changing contexts. I know I am now very different from who I used to be but I also remain the same.

I wish you all the best, Kate, and I hope for your speedy recovery.