Friday, April 13, 2007

may I present....

MC Nuts and the Wordsworth Rap.

(If you want to know more, go here. If you want an alternative take on Wordsworth and his daffodils, try Yarnstorm.)

Ladies and Gentlemen, I share this with you only because I consider it my duty, a matter of vital public interest, and because I have no knitting to show. Because who can knit, when MC Nuts is in the house?

(And a confession, I have never read the original - must have been ill that day at school.... preferring the metaphysicals myself, being all pretentious and good educated as what I am.)

Monday, April 02, 2007

I feel like there is something I've forgotten...

oh yes, that's it, the blog. It isn't that I mean to forget, but since we went and had an hour taken away from us (I know, I know, there are some of you out there who think it is the most heinous thing ever, daylight savings, and I agree, I hate the stealing of an hour, but I do so love these brighter evenings,), I've sort of got distracted. Including, to the scratchy pain of my arms, scalping the holly bush, and then playing third witch on the left, as I beat the cuttings down into the bin with a stick.

But, in the recall of my forgetfulness, I thought I would share with you a last year finished object. Some may remember the excitement of the coffee bags. And the trepidation with which the sewing machine entered my life. Because, despite all fears to the contrary, I did indeed manage to co-ordinate coffee bag, sewing machine, and yarn (beautiful, Woolly Wormhead yarn). And made the world's largest, and possibly most impractical, bag ever.

But since then, I have found a use for The Bag. The most perfect use, one which matches in size, in concept, in material, and, astonishingly, in colour. For The Bag is the perfect thing to put a cardigan in. Not a finished cardigan, but a cardigan in construction. Where the texture of the coffee bag matches the texture of the shetland wool - light, airy, but with a distinctly pleasing subtle scratch. Where the insane depth of The Bag itself eats comfortably all the needed balls of yarn, where the clever little pocket I (yes, me, all by myself) installed holds pens, pencils, bits of note paper, markers, scissors, and even wound-up spare circulars. And the final serendipitous concatenation? The colours match.

Now, I must run away - for I am also concocting peculiar things with frames and bits of cotton string. So far, no tangles, but there is time yet.

Oh, yes, a final plea. Does anyone know of a bell that could be put on a cat collar? We can cope with the mice, and the tragic occasional bird (because the birds are learning, and getting better at warning that a cat is loose in the garden), and the collar does already rattle, with tags and labels and jingle-jangle noises, but how do you warn butterflies that they must flee the evil stalking kitten?