by popular request ....

or rather, one kind person - you know who you are! thanks very much :) - I take up my keyboard and edge back into print.


and readers, we made it! after many slips, hiccups and fears that our sale/purchase would fall through, it all fell into place in September, and we have moved from this:

to this:

and from this (the view from my London flat window):

to this (the view from my new home):

Now our days are one long saga of ploughing through the internet and brochures, visiting or being visited by tradesmen, and trying to make up our mind what we want/can afford (sadly, the two are not always synonymous) in renovating our new home.

but when we walk out of our front door we meet ponies, cows, donkeys and right now, pigs which have been turned out for pannage, that is, to eat up the acorns, thereby sparing the ponies who would be poisoned by them.*

the air is clear, the trees are gradually turning through all their colours before their leaves fall, and there is a definite tinge of winter in the air, in spite of the lovely weather we have been blessed with these last weeks.

watch this space ...

*New Forest Notes, q.v.

Pensioners in the New Forest ...

I have a confession to make: I have not been entirely honest with you all. But I have good reason, I promise.

For some considerable time now we have been endeavouring to turn ourselves from City slickers into country bumpkins. However, I have not been blogging about it, because under the peculiar way that property is bought and sold in England, the whole process is riddled with such uncertainty that one dassent think it's going to happen until it does happen! In fact it is enough to turn even me, who am the least superstitious person I know, into a fully paid up member of the ladder-avoiding, salt-over-shoulder-chucking, no-way-are-we-having-13-at-the-table died-in-the-wool crazy brigade!

Which is why I haven't been blogging about it. And I'm still not gonna! Except to say, that when it eventually comes good, we will be in the beautiful New Forest. And that is where we are now, in a cottage we are renting for reasons that will be explained all in good time. We are sitting in the living area, with the french door to the garden which is backed by the woods with nothing but green and birdsong and fresh, fresh air - marvellous. Oh, and the occasional braying of the donkey. And the New Forest ponies. And the deer. I could get used to this. In fact I intend to!

We are here until Tuesday, so I have brought lots of knitting: my Kimono jacket, which needs just a bit of stitching to finish it in time to wear for the English summer, i.e., slightly warmer rain than winter. In April we were promised a 'barbecue summer', but no sign yet. Unless of course one thinks of the usual English barbecue summer, whereby you set it all up and just as it is ready, the heavens open and everyone makes a dash for indoors!! ;)

Also, my Niebling tablecloth, Dahlie (on the left below)and a jumper for my granddaughter, when she gets back from France, in two shades of denim (the stuff that comes off all over your fingers as you knit, so you look like an Ancient Briton covered in woad - yuk - but it looks so good when it's finished and improves as it fades in the wash that it's worth the suffering). And finally some socks that I am knitting for Molly of the Celtic Swan Forge, for her Great Handknit Sock Trade 2009, in exchange for some of her lovely needles.

What with all that, and the Saturday papers, and no landline, and no mobile 'phone reception, life doesn't get much better than this - except if it becomes permanent, which I cross my fingers it soon will - watch this space!!! ;)

Sorry there are no pix, both our cameras are sick and at the menders. But you can look at the links for lovely pix, instead.

following a new blog

found a new blog to follow - really floats my boat, so I'm sharing it in my links - 'wearing purple not dead yet ...'

3 beautiful things

Some time ago I referred to the principle of '3 beautiful things', as exemplified in Clare's wonderful blog of the same name.

Our recent trip to Ireland was mainly for the purpose of celebrating the birthdays of two of my wonderful grandchildren: Finn, who lives there and had his very first birthday on 24th June; and Ellie, who reached the grand old age of 3 on 26th. (This, she deemed, gave her the right to declare 'I'm in charge' at several junctures!!) Their cousin Luke, 2 1/2 was also present, which gave the opportunity for this photograph of my most favourite '3 beautiful things':

tempus fugit ...

... or, as one might say, doesn't time fly when you're having fun!

And fun we were having - good craic! We started our Irish sojourn in Dublin - where else? Another lifelong ambition realised. It was great fun. Sadly our camera decided to burst its one button, so we could take very few photos, for fear of destroying it completely.

But we managed to get round a good few things in our two days in Dublin, starting with Trinity College, and the Book of Kells. Oh glory, how wonderful it was. And Trinity College too. We had a wonderful tour guided by a student, who made it both interesting and amusing, not least by relating and then conforming to various superstitions in order not to jeopardize his exam results.

And then came, of course, Molly Malone (with Trinity College behind her):



My father used to sing Molly Malone and many other Irish songs whilst shaving, and there was a myth that there was Irish in our background - with not much foundation, I have since found. Although he, three of his brothers and his sister certainly had a celtic look about them, being small and wiry, with black wavy hair and piercing blue eyes. I grew up thinking/wishing/hoping that I might somehow be connected with that romantic land, and now I am - but only through my grandson Finn's Irish mother. Strange how our dreams can come true in ways we never dreamt of!

Then a swift visit to a hero of mine, James Joyce (and yes, I have read Ulysses, which puts me in good company, Marilyn Monroe, frinstance! And I saw Joseph Stick's film, when it first came out in 1967 - and scandalous it was thought too! Ah, sweet innocence, all gone now.):



Sadly, the Floozie in the Jaccuzzi (check out this website for some other equally scurrilous examples of Dublin humour in renaming their famous landmarks), i.e., the statue of the spirit of the Liffey River, Anna Livia, has had to make way for the Millenium Spire, but we were reliably informed a new space will be found for her soon.

Our next port of call was maybe more prosaic, but every bit as interesting: the Guinness Brewery or, as they now call it Guinness Storehouse. Oh my, oh my! The place is huge, the exhibition fantastic and, best bit of all, it ends high up in the new Gravity Bar with a free pint of the black nectar itself! And the view over Dublin is unsurpassed, especially through the bottom of a glass! ;)




Now, don't be misled by this next picture into thinking that my dearly beloved was converted from his wine-bibbing. It's all a ruse:


In fact, I had to make the ultimate sacrifice, and drink both pints. It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it ...

And before I left Dublin, I just had to have a picture of these wonderful - what, exactly? Sea horses? Mersteeds? Any information/suggestions will be gratefully entertained.

More soon, I promise. Including knitting update - there has been quite a bit still.

And I think I can nominate three beautiful things: Guinness, the Book of Kells, and the Mersteeds!!

Oh dear, just saying hello to say goodbye ... !

I really do feel rather bad, because it's been such a long time since I've blogged, and now I'm only doing it to say I'm not going to do it for a while. Now how interesting is that? -not!! :(

We are off to the Emerald Isle for two weeks, part holiday, part family. I am so-o-o-o excited. We are going to tour around a bit first, starting in Dublin. Then finally we shall drop down to Killarney for a week, where there will be a grand gathering for the first birthday of my 'broth of a boy', grandson Finn. And to make it even better, two days later we shall celebrate the third birthday of my granddaughter Ellie. What could be more wonderful? And what better excuse for non-blogging?

Moreover, we hope that by the time we come back contracts will have been exchanged on our flat sale, and I can finally come clean about it all - I dassent before, in case I upset the malevolent house sale fairy and everything goes Pete Tong!!

On the knitting front, things still happening. Have done lots of Erich Engeln doilies, still to be blocked and photo'd. Also finishing my kimono, ditto. The Princess goes forward, slowly. And I am going to start a Niebling, Dahlia, in a lovely red-orange silk.

I promise much blogging about everything next month, when I'm back in circulation. Best knitwishes to everyone - I'm off on me hols!! ;)))))))

Life in the fast lane ...

I have cast iron reasons for not having blogged, I do, I do ...

For some time now we have been plotting to leave London and move to the country. But selling up and buying something new is not all that easy right now. Funny that, who'da thought it?

Basically the story goes, we are not tired of London, but we may tire of life a little quicker than we'd like if we don't find somewhere to live that is conducive to us taking more exercise than a gentle stroll to the supermarket and back three times a week. So we decided we should make the leap, especially as I now have three grandchildren of an age to be better suited to outdoor activities, than creating havoc in a twelfth floor tower block apartment. Or rather, they are perfectly suited to creating havoc, but I'd rather they didn't have the occasion.

Of course, as soon as we make up our minds, the property market goes into freefall, the economy takes a nosedive, and the future is neither bright nor orange. But, heigho, we are going for it anyway. There are all sorts of things going on which I am not allowed to hex by mentioning before, in that time-honoured phrase, 'we have exchanged contracts'. However, I'm sure it's not tempting fate to say that as a consequence we have spent more time on the M3 Motorway between here and the New Forest, which is where we hope to end up, than in our own comfy goosedown.

In between I am tackling that room in the house which is laughingly known as my study, sorting stuff out, chucking and packing. Now I have moved often in my 'interesting life' (like the Chinese curse) and have always tried to work by the three-pile rule: everything is to be sorted into three piles, one to keep, one to give away, and one to throw away. The theory is that the 'keep pile' should be the smallest. Well, I have to be the first to admit that's not going to happen with my study. I am a bookaholic, and although I am trying to find things to sell on Amazon, most of my extensive collection will be going with me. So to make up for this weakness, I am attempting to catalogue my books as I pack. There is a good reason for this, other than simple masochism. I have been known to buy books twice, having forgotten that I have already bought them once. And although my shelves are (mostly) reasonably in order, there are enough of them for that to happen even so. Don't ask me how many, that I hope to know when I have finished cataloguing. Hopefully then, when I am tempted by a book purchase, I can quickly check my catalogue, thus saving me from wasting money that could better be spent on a book I don't have yet!! It's a good theory. ;)

So I do have an excuse, I do, I do ...