15 April 2011
I so like this little golden hook. My friend gave it to me for Christmas, and it is just perfect for so many reasons - it was just the right size for using on the Jamieson's Shetland Heather that I'm using for a blanket for my son in wintry sub-fusc tones, it is so much easier to find when it gets put down in odd places, it catches the light, glittering away on gloomy days, and, of course, it is a constant reminder of my friend, the fact that she saw this, thought it was just right for me and bothered to wrap it up prettily and give it to me. It has pressed home how much easier it is to make things when you have pleasing implements around, things that feel just right in the hand and that inspire industry. In fact, there may have been a bit too much forging ahead. I suspect that the repeated pain in my right shoulder may well be crochet related RSI rather then the mild frozen shoulder my GP diagnosed. Perhaps I should have told her I had a habit.
Apparently I'm also suffering, along with about half of the UK population from Vitamin D deficiency which explains the languor over the last few months of what must have been one of the longest, coldest and greyest for years. In addition to a supplement to kick start the improvement, the remedy is to get out in the sunlight for an hour a day, avoiding the hottest part of the day, face and forearms exposed. Which is all a very good excuse for sitting watching the asparagus grow, paying homage to the wonderful scarecrow in the garden at William Morris's Red House, visiting the sheep on Graveney Marshes, and whizzing along the canal and through the parks with the dearest of friends. Hook and yarn in bag.
I'm regretting that none of this joy has been documented, apart from the golden hook, but the new camera is on order. At last...
04 April 2011
So we went down to put the seaweed on the asparagus on Saturday, and found this. After such a cold winter, I was expecting that it might be up later than last year, but in fact it seems to be earlier by a week, and a few days earlier than the year before. The last couple of weeks of fine weather must have done the trick. The birds too seem to be slightly manic. Early evening, when it's pretty much empty of people, and just before the sun goes down, the plots are alive with birds flitting, flapping or whistling. It's as if the end of the hard winter has made them desperate to get on with the process of procreation.
Closer to home, we've heard the sound of a green woodpecker in the mornings, possibly in an old ash tree in the large garden that backs onto our street. And on the Regent's Canal, we watched a pair of coots feeding their newly hatched brood of dark downy cootlings; by Saturday they were venturing further away from the nest. I doubt whether the dinner-pate sized turtle/terrapin slinking on a nearby log was entirely benevolent.
Many thanks for comments on cameras. My sister-in-law kindly let me borrow her Cannon Ixus 130. Neat, but not quite as easy to manipulate as my old Fuji Finepix. Can I be the only person in the world overwhelmed by choice?