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...