World Where You Live

This week I cast on for my Harmony cardigan for the sixth time. Let me run down the other five attempts: 1) cast on during Doctor Who, 2) cast on during knitting group, 3) cast on long-tail and ended up out of yarn 13 stitches from end, 4) cast on wrong size, and 5) cast on with seriously wonky tension. Cast-on number 6 worked, thankfully. I have had to adjust the needle size, so I am now knitting a 4-ply cardigan on size 3mm  (US 2) needles. Wish me luck. One thing is certain: Rowan Fine Milk Cotton is a quality yarn. Remember, I used the same length of yarn to cast-on (and rip-out). While the actual yarn looks a bit crinkly, the knitted fabric looks as fresh as a daisy. Just look at the photograph and think of the abuse .. I knew that FMC would be a good yarn to work with - after all, it is a staple Rowan yarn - but I'm still impressed. I am now pondering other potential FMC summer knits (Geno from Rowan 43 and Arielle from Kim Hargreaves' Misty spring to mind), but let us see how the 4-ply on 3mm needles work out for me and my sanity..

Yes, my hand is better while I still cannot knit as much as I usually do. Actually, my hand is just peachy, but the arm gets pretty painful when I've worked/knitted/typed for a few hours. I try to rest it as much as possible, but I'm also notoriously bad at "just sitting around". I need to do something!

A few links for you:

• Your Life is An Open Book. If you have a Facebook profile, you might want to reconsider how you are using Facebook. You will definitely want to check your privacy settings, and I also recommend using the ReclaimYourPrivacy widget. As an expat I find Facebook incredibly useful for keeping in touch with overseas friends and family members, so I cannot bring myself to quit Facebook, but I have locked down my profile as much as I possibly can.
• This Cate Blanchett/Alexander McQueen outfit is the most stunning thing I have seen in a very, very long time.
• This DNA/RNA necklace is pretty nice too. And more attainable.

And the rest of the day will be spent on paperwork before I suddenly become eighteen years old once more and will be screaming/singing at the top of my lungs (YT link). You never really get over your first love, do you?

Fools Gold

Despite my fears, my hand is slowly getting better. I managed a bit of knitting yesterday before settling down to watch Worried About the Boy, a BBC2 drama about Boy George's pre-fame  life (warmly recommended, particularly if you liked Velvet Goldmine. WATB is not as heady nor anywhere as clever as VG, but it explores similar ground). Completely unrelated, I have decided that this track is going to be the soundtrack to my summer..

The rest of my day is going to be spent doing chores, seeing some friends and hopefully my hand will keep on getting better. Thanks for all the well-wishes!

A Big Dose of Grrrrr

Disaster has struck - or, rather, my own clumsiness has struck. Last night I walked from our kitchen into the living room, closed the door behind me, and somehow my left hand got entangled in the door-handle. The wrist sort-of twisted around the pinkie and .. well, it was not good. I iced the wrist/pinkie immediately and bandaged the area. I also made it through work today thanks to a heady combination of pain-killers, ice-packs and assorted swearing. Sadly knitting seems to be out of the question (I managed one row during my lunchtime and it did not feel good) and I'm now wearing my left arm in a sling.

This could not have happened at a worse time as the next fortnight will be very, very busy in terms of knitting, working and socialising (and even all three activities combined). I have a shawl with a looming deadline, a 4-ply cardigan I am exceedingly keen to get started within the next five days, and a ten-hour train journey which I had planned to pass with some knitting. Oh, and a concert with my favouritest band.

Poor timing, Karie, poor timing.

If the pain down my arm continues I will seek medical advice, but for now I'm all about painkillers, ice-packs, copious swearing and therapeutic sessions of Cursed Treasure. Wish me luck.

Don't Dream It's Over

It has been a day of upheaval here in Britain. Gordon Brown resigned as Prime Minister and then Britain finally got its new government five days after the election. And Neil Finn sported a moustache on BBC's Later With Jools Holland. Sadly, I'm all a-Twittering about that bit rather than the other bits..

.. I told my Other Half that I did not feel like breaking up my long-term relationship with Neil Finn (after all, it's been nearly twenty years - that is commitment, I'll have you know) but more like entering couples' therapy. My Other Half did not answer me. He is also not going with me to see The Crowdies next week. I wonder why?

Despite the upheaval and emotional turmoil (in more than one way - I am not that shallow), today has been a nice day. I was given a big box of posh chocolate because I did someone a favour. It was unexpected, but very lovely. I also have a finished object to show off (if I can decide whether it is a fascinator or a corsage).

The Candle in the Window

I put a lit candle on my window-sill tonight. It is a Danish tradition to do on the evening of May 4 in memory of May 4, 1945, the evening the Nazi Occupation of Denmark ended. I lit the candle in memory of family members, now long gone, who fought with the Danish Resistance. I also lit the candle thinking about democracy and the forth-coming British general election. I cannot vote in this election, and I have a sinking feeling about its likely outcome, but I appreciate living in a democracy (albeit one with a wacky voting system). I liked this little re-drawn map of Europe (and in related news, my Eurovision Pundit Podcast debút)

And BIG, MASSIVE congratulations to the Hand-Knitted Pirate who is now Doctor Hand-Knitted Pirate.

Books 2010: Tóibín - Brooklyn

Last week I finished reading Colm Tóibín's Brooklyn, a quiet novel about a girl who moves from one country to another in order to improve her prospects. I have a lot of time for Tóibín: his novel about Henry James, The Master, was one of my favourite reads in the past decade, and I remember being shocked and moved by another deceptively quiet Tóibín novel,  The Story of the Night. With Tóibín, you wait for the story to hit you. His books are not fast-paced caper filled with unbridled emotions - you have to be a patient reader and put your trust in the story-telling. The quiet rooms, the things left unsaid and the thoughts the characters keep to themselves - Colm Tóibín knows that is where the real stories exist. That is not to say that Nothing Ever Happens in Brooklyn. Eilis Lacey, our protagonist, goes to dances, finds a job, meets people and falls in love. Brooklyn has comedic touches too - some colourful characters, a baseball game, a stomach-churning journey across the Atlantic - but admittedly even the comedic touches are low-key. Oh, and there are some very, very big decisions being made by ordinary people in Brooklyn.

Brooklyn is about the the émigré experience. What does it really feel like leaving your country, your culture, your family and your friends for somewhere else? Reading Matters has an excellent take on this:

[Brooklyn] might be set in the 1950s but it touches on universal themes that resonate today, and I've yet to read anything that so perfectly captures the profound sense of dislocation you feel when you swap one country for another and then return to your homeland for the first time.

In short, Brooklyn is a superb paean to homesickness and the émigré experience. I think I identified with it so strongly because it shows, in an understated but powerful manner, how all emigrants have to make that god-awful decision about whether to stay or go (..).

I took my time reading Brooklyn, mostly because I did not want to become upset on public transport or in my workplace. I hesitate to use this word, but reading this novel was a profound reading experience - I put much of myself and my own life into it. It will stay with me for a long time.

I am now currently reading Sarah Waters' The Little Stranger. I have a little theory about Waters the novelist and so far The Little Stranger plays along with my theory. It is also very good thus far.