small summits

Yesterday I had a bit of a breakthrough on the foot front. After whinging for the entire week since the cast came off that walking was agonising and impossible even with the special orthotic insoles the doctor dude had given me… yeah, it finally occurred to me that I was walking reasonably painlessly barefoot, so maybe the orthotics were a part of the problem, not the solution. Yeah, it turned out I had been suffering a medically induced limp. I won’t dwell on how annoyed this makes me, but instead celebrate how wonderful it felt to be out walking, rather than hobbling along like Jake-the-fecking-peg.

Finally, after 11 weeks, I made it up a hill again. I was slow, and wobbly, and afterwards everything ached, but at least now I have some hope I might walk properly again one day.

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Top of the world selfie!

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subject and object

During the ten weeks I spent on crutches, the comment I heard over and over again was how lucky I was to have all that knitting time. After politely refuting this the first few times, I could have cheerfully garotted the next commenter with a circular needle.

Because not being able to leave the house under your own steam is BORING. It doesn’t matter how many books you read, or how many stitches you knit, it’s BORING, because it’s not a choice.

And it turns out that when I’m bored, I do boring knitting. I torture myself with huge and monotonous garter stitch projects. I think that for my sins in previous lives, I deserve to churn out a linen stitch cowl or two. BORING KNITTING. (Well, to be fair, at least two of the finished objects are charming, but they were SO BORING to produce that I’m not truly feeling the love.) Because it’s all about inspiration, and I wasn’t finding any within the four walls of my house.

Happily, I can now drive again, if not yet walk very far or fast. So this week, I have been out. OUT! Out makes me glad; out inspires me; out gives me ALL THE IDEAS AT ONCE to knit. Out has sent me firmly back into fairisle mode. And because I’ve been out into Autumn, we have Autumnal fairisle.

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My first cripple walk rehab outing was up to Longshawe, which was ablaze with colour. (Crap photos because it turns out holding a camera and walking is still beyond me. Ah well, next time…)

And so… we have the Longshawe hat, in an autumn palette, with cunningly arranged crown decreases, naturally.

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I have more fairisley plans now, which is FINE, because everyone needs hats, no?

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Corrugated ribbing, for added pleasure…

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wake me up when (this enforced sedentary interlude) ends

It’s been five weeks and three days since I wrecked my left foot, and I swear, I am going mad. The only places I’ve been out of the house in the last fortnight are work, medical appointments and Guides.

Today I propelled myself around the block with my crutches and my (misnamed, as it’s blatantly not really meant for) walking cast, which is already starting to crumble around the edges. That is a grand distance of 0.76 miles (at an average speed of 1.66 mph, thanks Google) and represents my longest outing yet. The world’s suddenly turned to Autumn, and I’m still hobbling in search of my lost summer.

I miss walking like… really, I don’t have the words for this one. Walking is my coping mechanism; my way of thinking, and dealing; it’s how I find a rhythm; it’s my way of experiencing the world. And I don’t have it right now.

I don’t do indoors. I don’t do dependency. Or asking for help.

It turns out what I do do rather well is frustration and self pity.

Whinge over. 26 days to go…

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when it all comes together

Sometimes, when you’re making something, you’re really not sure that you’re going to like it.

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That’s how it was with this blanket. I started making squares in a spirit of pure desperation, the day I’d been told I had to sit with my foot up for four more weeks.

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I made dozens of the little buggers, as a distraction from pain, tedium and frustration. I couldn’t see how the ragbag mishmash of colours was ever going to come together.

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Then on Friday morning, I chucked the bag of squares onto the living room floor, and started arranging, and rearranging, and something magical happened.

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Now the only trouble is that it’s for a present, and I’m secretly coveting it. But I don’t ever want another month of sitting around to drive me to make another one.

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fast forward

Ooops, so I didn’t really write anything for six months.

Let me tell you how the first six months of being 40 has gone. I don’t think it was at all how I thought my life would be as a grown-up. Remember that Friends theme..? So no-one told you life was gonna be this way… that’d be me.

Things I have done since being 40 that I never got around to blogging about, and probably never will:

1) Knitted a puffin.

2) Closed down the preschool that’s been a huge part of my life for the last 8 years.

3) Been very unhappy and incredibly angry about the unfairness of item 2.

4) Applied for far too many jobs I didn’t want (dull, boo.)

5) Finally got a job I do want (huzzah!)

6) Sold off the contents of said business in order to pay my own redundancy (miserable, tedious, and undignified.)

7) In the middle of all the ghastlyness of numbers 2-6 inclusive, had a fabulous restorative holiday on Tiree with the most generous friends.

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8) Desperately, determinedly, made it the Best Term Ever, because if you have to go out, you may as well do it on a high (whilst humming songs from Fr*zen.)

9) Ran away to Shetland All By Myself the minute term was over to recover.

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10) planned and executed The Best Camp Ever. No false modesty here. Officially, best ever.

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And then I managed this:

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Short version: fell over my own feet, sesamoid fracture, four weeks of not being able to walk. Which is frankly doing my head in, because walking is how I cope with everything else. So what else is there to do but blog about it instead?

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spring colour

(Yeah, I totally stole this idea off someone else’s blog, but I can’t remember whose, so am unable to credit them).

This afternoon in the garden.

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adventures with my sewing machine

One of my little projects for being 40 was to teach myself to sew. Properly. (Because obviously my current state of sewing is Very Improper Indeed).

Inspired by the Great British Sewing Bee (Big Daughter and I have awesome plans for an Easter holidays makeover challenge, watch this space…), I am determined to learn how to make something from a pattern which fits someone

However, it’s the end of term and I am very tired so I decided to start small, with a bag.

So this evening I sat down with the “Two Kates” bag tutorial (can’t figure out how to link… google it if you want to know) and two fat quarters of fabric, and a couple of hours later, I had a bag! With a lining! Probably the trickiest part of the whole enterprise was opening the box containing my new sewing machine.

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So I am now feeling ridiculously accomplished and over confident, and I have a bag! A bag! Here is the bag! showing how it can contain knitting.

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And here is the bag! showing off its lining!

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And now my thespian children have finally walked in (11.40 pm) so I can go to bed at last.

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