tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42391497039193728732024-03-21T15:36:13.750+00:00magnusmogmagnusmoghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847120014074323074noreply@blogger.comBlogger254125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4239149703919372873.post-40505146627594308822013-04-19T13:28:00.004+00:002013-04-19T13:28:58.188+00:00Don't Mess With Blue Faced Leicester.It's been a slow few weeks here at Mog Towers, I've been doing a lot of snoozing and undertaking of activities that require minimum brain function. To that end, I read all three of the Fifty Shades books ( three for the price of two at the Cancer Research shop, and no, they don't get any better after the first one) and then took out my frustrations on a snow white innocent fleece. Unlike the books' hero, who seems to get whatever he wants at the click of his manicured fingers, I had to wait for my <a href="http://www.ashford.co.nz/newsite/carders/77/carding/flick-carder/moredetail.html">instrument of torture</a> to be delivered by Brian the Postie. It was worth it in the end, as readers of the series will know, anticipation is a big part of pleasure.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BFL measured.</td></tr>
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My fleece may be innocent but it comes from a breed I associate with dark deeds. Blue Faced Leicester reminds me of a gangster with a serious case of five o' clock shadow. The sort of fellow who would hang out in Gin Joints with Dutch Schultz and Pretty Boy Floyd. Stubborn, twisted and hard to pin down. The kind of guy who only gives up his secrets after a good going over. He'll stick together with others of his kind when agitated and placed in hot water. As with all gangster cliches, Blue Faced Leicester has a soft side, when all goings over have been gone over, the secrets he gives up are the palest, cloudiest puffs of fibre. Unless the puffs are left unguarded in a basket in the company of a large cat. Drawn by the smell of the sheep, the beast will immediately park his furry body in the basket whereupon the puffs will deflate faster than a souffle in a stiff breeze.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Puffs of fibre, ripe for deflating.</td></tr>
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The fibre, deflated or not, spins beautifully. It takes time and effort to get from wrangling with gangster fleece to spinning a law abiding yarn and there are other, quicker, ways to create cloth. I could get the fibre ready prepared, or I could buy yarn instead of fibre. I could even buy a jumper instead of knitting one. So why don't I? Because when I do, it feels like I'm jumping into the middle of the story. Imagine picking up <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jane_Eyre">Jane Eyre </a>and starting at the place where she says; " Reader, I married him. " with no knowledge of what had gone before. No orphanage, no governessing, no budding romance with Mr Rochester, no first wife in the attic. So much of what makes the story compelling would be lost. That's how it is with me and Blue Faced Leicester. Sometimes the most satisfying way is begin at the beginning and to work out the ending for yourself.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZmrBKYqsrOXLaBqQgmpYdDQ90ySQtsd3C4gL-EptFmoYZmm2uzTkFuGV89w5f6_grHW7rWDuMwseqSrFNbkJ_MHVwYpRNnC5DhmIRvsiVLAS_wQxdcmfRwxb-dwa5CoPOA4J9FxqV0-g/s1600/DSC_0133.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZmrBKYqsrOXLaBqQgmpYdDQ90ySQtsd3C4gL-EptFmoYZmm2uzTkFuGV89w5f6_grHW7rWDuMwseqSrFNbkJ_MHVwYpRNnC5DhmIRvsiVLAS_wQxdcmfRwxb-dwa5CoPOA4J9FxqV0-g/s640/DSC_0133.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sun on the fur. Perfect.</td></tr>
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In other news, we caught a small sneak of sunshine. Magnus gave up on his fibre squashing escapades and planted his bulk on top of the bulbs instead. <div class="blogger-post-footer"><script src="http://www.google-analytics.com/urchin.js" type="text/javascript">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To add insult to injury it is snowing. A lot.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This should have been my inspiration.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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My teenage years came back to haunt me when I attempted to knit socks with yarn dyed by Helen at <a href="https://www.ripplescrafts.com/">Ripples Crafts</a>. I bought the yarn with a book - <a href="http://www.melaniefalickbooks.com/knitted-socks-east-and-west/knitted-socks-east-and-west/">Knitted Socks East and West</a> - rather than a specific project, in mind but when I tried to choose a winning pattern, nothing worked. It was the oddest thing. The yarn was beautiful and needed to be knitted on tiny needles which made it perfect for the intricate designs, but every time I started a sock it looked wrong. All the while a niggly voice in my ear was whispering; <i>"Make sporty socks. Make sporty socks"</i> Why on earth would I make a sock with any pretension to sportiness? I've never been sporty. Rugby is too noisy and I have to leave the room when Wimbledon is on because I can't bear the thought of anyone losing. Nevertheless the voice kept whispering and in the end I gave in. I cast on a simple ankle sock and the niggle was silenced. As I knitted away, the sock and the sporty style matched perfectly, looking like the kind of sock that someone ( probably not me ) would wear to the gym.<br />
That's when it hit me. The beautiful yarn in tones of blue and turquoise that I bought because it reminded me of the sea view from Helen's studio, was actually the colour of my teenage gym shirt. More specifically, it was the colour of my gym shirt after it had had most of the life washed out of it. The colour must have been nestling deep down in my unconscious just waiting for the day when I would choose some sock yarn. Luckily for my unconscious, the socks turned out beautifully.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The unblocked sock returned to Helen's studio for a photo.</td></tr>
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In other news, I made a jumper. You might remember that Jacqui and Andrew visited us last year, from Tennessee. One of the gifts they brought with them was yarn, handspun by Jacqui. What an amazing thing for one spinner to give to another. It is now a super cosy and slightly chic <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/ingenue">Ingenue</a>. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0rNkDyB7I9FJMOa7ruexTgO1fKDsAcfFv4O9roo5DKoD2EJMZU69KkHqvxSy04FkYXG6iXYDZ8w_sMdFnqPiRDwgVekhyfElUVE95Rn8-nbsgQEH2yxV_aHZlrHdIq1T7XUQI49IBPVI/s1600/DSC_0007-001.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0rNkDyB7I9FJMOa7ruexTgO1fKDsAcfFv4O9roo5DKoD2EJMZU69KkHqvxSy04FkYXG6iXYDZ8w_sMdFnqPiRDwgVekhyfElUVE95Rn8-nbsgQEH2yxV_aHZlrHdIq1T7XUQI49IBPVI/s640/DSC_0007-001.JPG" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stern looking woman models new favourite jumper.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnu0r3z_eCcb0hF_l4uh-ka1uLOWR2qOrcgMYb-TC0Y3hH514pj3vrsUQ1rkOmhaukzeFm5UG490NoTl66y2RUX17rQZpfzUE2VHThXyR9GIPRY1JR74S7Pkh6YFlxr1GoicfFO3rDLgM/s1600/DSC02007.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnu0r3z_eCcb0hF_l4uh-ka1uLOWR2qOrcgMYb-TC0Y3hH514pj3vrsUQ1rkOmhaukzeFm5UG490NoTl66y2RUX17rQZpfzUE2VHThXyR9GIPRY1JR74S7Pkh6YFlxr1GoicfFO3rDLgM/s640/DSC02007.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Film Festival Flag.</td></tr>
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Or should that be prizeless. We didn't come home with a Tiger Award but I felt like a winner anyway. Three out of four of our screenings were sold out and that included one at 9.30am on a Saturday morning. The audiences were grand, they<a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10151250955221338&set=t.622469342&type=3&theater"> hummed </a>along with us, laughed in all the right places and gave my knitting a round of applause. Best of all, a delegation of Rotterdam knitters came out to the cinema to knit with me before the Premiere. That must be a <a href="http://www.filmfestivalrotterdam.com/en/">festival</a> first.<br />
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Our boat turned out to be the perfect place to return too after a hard day's humming. I could go for a snooze and wake up to the sound of the Great Crested Grebes and Coots swimming past my window. As we were moored in a harbour the boat didn't move too dramatically, instead it swayed from side to side making me feel as if I was living in a lumbering breathing animal. A bit like Jonah and the Whale, but with better lighting and an en suite bathroom.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our boat is the one on the right, with the red and yellow and black.</td></tr>
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I loved the city, it reminded me a lot of Glasgow which is a compliment in my book. An industrial town, proud of its heritage and filled with interesting places. We could have visited some of the many museums or galleries but my favourite way to get to know a city is to wander around it and spend most of my of time in cafes. Rotterdam is very good for that sort of sightseeing. My favourite cafe was <a href="http://www.picknickrotterdam.nl/">Picknick</a> which specialises in local food. An unexpected treat was our tour of <a href="http://en.rotterdam.info/visitors/places-to-go/attractions/5098/city-hall/">City Hall</a>. Much of the centre of Rotterdam was destroyed in 1940, during WW2 and City Hall was one of a very few buildings to survive. While all around it was rebuilt and modernised, City Hall was kept as it was originally designed. There are incredible wood carvings, stained glass, Delft ceramics and 1920s murals, even the buzzer which calls the Mayor and Aldermen/women into session is the original one. . I can't recommend it enough.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rotterdam Architecture.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coffee in Delft.</td></tr>
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Our week went by all to quickly and before I knew it we were home and facing a grumpy cat trying to persuade us that he had spent the last seven days starving. Magnus' acting skills are prodigious but what he didn't know was that they can now be viewed on the big screen. The lad has a cameo (camiouw?) appearance or three in the film and was a big hit, with people in the audience taking photos of him on their phones. Not that I'll let him know. Magnus the Diva doesn't bear thinking about.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just when you thought he couldn't get any bigger.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Tfo4tltaUD8C4INtTeTgZWF2l7WNL5VQnbWwOJZh3X6gZ_btYnF8uqewrp-fsS4_ck4QVr_mn6Ger5nVqvf1lS0VqXn75Q3JgU59GscS42eScjzNgfoCn0TF1m0MKRzzpZKNgQDVxDw/s1600/DSC_0009.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Tfo4tltaUD8C4INtTeTgZWF2l7WNL5VQnbWwOJZh3X6gZ_btYnF8uqewrp-fsS4_ck4QVr_mn6Ger5nVqvf1lS0VqXn75Q3JgU59GscS42eScjzNgfoCn0TF1m0MKRzzpZKNgQDVxDw/s640/DSC_0009.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birdfeeding in the snow.</td></tr>
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<br />
We leave tomorrow and till then I have been taking it easy with a little light knitting and a lot of snow watching. We haven't been hard hit this winter, especially compared with other parts of the UK but I have enjoyed watching the light changing as the snow falls.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Mq9s8uD8aCfxOUmmPREC_50So37u-2qw0KOcpzKk_-tfouDq4_LYqFkZdUhAre-Wb29oQ9lZlnEhzrERu_dXLDF4z40urmZm_p6YVkfsOTRmuJVG9KY8EdfEiRaj2VgCcp1y8K4U25I/s1600/DSC_0018-001.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Mq9s8uD8aCfxOUmmPREC_50So37u-2qw0KOcpzKk_-tfouDq4_LYqFkZdUhAre-Wb29oQ9lZlnEhzrERu_dXLDF4z40urmZm_p6YVkfsOTRmuJVG9KY8EdfEiRaj2VgCcp1y8K4U25I/s640/DSC_0018-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chilly view from the attic.</td></tr>
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<br />
The pus-filled cat is feeling much better, thank you all very much for your concern. He was checked out by the vet this week and all is well. While we are away he will be making the most of his favourite spot on the living room window, right above the radiator. Seems his heat seeking ability was undamaged by the big bite. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Mq9s8uD8aCfxOUmmPREC_50So37u-2qw0KOcpzKk_-tfouDq4_LYqFkZdUhAre-Wb29oQ9lZlnEhzrERu_dXLDF4z40urmZm_p6YVkfsOTRmuJVG9KY8EdfEiRaj2VgCcp1y8K4U25I/s1600/DSC_0018-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2hIgfR0HjdjHzbnbjldudDYdfRUp2NpXE9XbaUu765lSB7mll1ReSItnB5uSySQmyXJErrSL8MYMLYHx1pGSjEHx1Ejeo_R1jaGJdYP9WRctJMvaenlqTz4CNnVqRc5hf4ueKELkVucQ/s1600/DSC_0005-002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2hIgfR0HjdjHzbnbjldudDYdfRUp2NpXE9XbaUu765lSB7mll1ReSItnB5uSySQmyXJErrSL8MYMLYHx1pGSjEHx1Ejeo_R1jaGJdYP9WRctJMvaenlqTz4CNnVqRc5hf4ueKELkVucQ/s640/DSC_0005-002.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ridiculous beast.</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzEiHyT-vPIv60FhUJCtBLexggw41hDmwDpSBCnBfyh3yb9y7e6NLMklBn974kAJxgM_BR66qKi569ic2UB3s4AUWbYFn8LnqAiKdbUkMQSnK-LC9nCtb_ZgC1oSFiKnkL6pOk2mwLW1Q/s1600/DSC_0016.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzEiHyT-vPIv60FhUJCtBLexggw41hDmwDpSBCnBfyh3yb9y7e6NLMklBn974kAJxgM_BR66qKi569ic2UB3s4AUWbYFn8LnqAiKdbUkMQSnK-LC9nCtb_ZgC1oSFiKnkL6pOk2mwLW1Q/s640/DSC_0016.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a happy fellow.</td></tr>
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<br />
It all began yesterday* when a friend was visiting, I was thanking her for a Christmas gift, a tin of sardines for Magnus, when I happened to look over at the boy in question. He was looking a bit odd, as if he had converted to vegetarianism and was storing carrots in one cheek hamster-style. Closer inspection found a large swelling and a nasty bite. Looked like an abscess to me. I made a note to keep an eye on him and to make an appointment with the vet in the morning. The evening was spent fussing at the cat and worriedly examining the swollen part. Normally this would be foolhardy behaviour because as we all know, the cheekbone is in his case, connected to the tooth bone. The lack of violence when being handled led me to believe that he was feeling rather ill and I decided to keep him inside overnight rather than offering the chilly delights of the back garden in December. I left the boy asleep, snorting gently on his favourite rocking chair.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiY2YaqT6IGD4aJlwPn73ZB26GAYk0jVq5eXjjRAWxRQHFX4Fr3sbNfJMsoIIZc1LakuQmuf0qVG-jfjSbzWuqg9-66Cs1PCk3Fbesufr5cX-zE-_I9t_XH6np1sDoEV21k_rAOantaS4/s1600/DSC_0031.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiY2YaqT6IGD4aJlwPn73ZB26GAYk0jVq5eXjjRAWxRQHFX4Fr3sbNfJMsoIIZc1LakuQmuf0qVG-jfjSbzWuqg9-66Cs1PCk3Fbesufr5cX-zE-_I9t_XH6np1sDoEV21k_rAOantaS4/s640/DSC_0031.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dyeing yarn to take to Rotterdam. Rotterdam? More later.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
7am, New Years Eve I was woken by some scratching at the door and the plaintive howling of a cat who wanted me to think he was starving. I jumped out of bed to save the carpet from a shredding and accompanied Magnus to the kitchen. After wolfing down some catfood, the lad sat on his haunches, flicked a back leg towards his face, extended his claws and exploded the abscess. There is nothing in the world that can prepare you for the smell that exudes from a burst cat abscess. Think of the smelliest recesses of the compost bin mixed with something that has been dead for too long and you're still nowhere near. It went everywhere, on me, on the floor and all over Magnus. For the visually minded, I can tell you that it was the colour of a bad strawberry custard. Pustard. <br />
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I cleaned the floor, cleaned the cat, cleaned myself and removed my pajamas in preparation for a boil wash. By then it was 7.15. New Year's Eve. I left a damp cat in the kitchen and retired to another, less pungent room. So there I was, waiting for the vet to open while the beast glared balefully at me through the frosted glass of the kitchen door. If this is a taste of things to come in 2013 then I'm doomed.<br />
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Happy New Year!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilizqsi5ngH9cKoApfUgXUyroW-SRad6y0BoDLLBNvqgUtugcnHggG0ZKfTSZga6iglEpQfzTKRB7hvL_tOSTpa-Aap03az6oTVDcwF5kKbniyBdCKPTPEmhFpYSUdRwODSkDcR8odMdc/s1600/DSC_0024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilizqsi5ngH9cKoApfUgXUyroW-SRad6y0BoDLLBNvqgUtugcnHggG0ZKfTSZga6iglEpQfzTKRB7hvL_tOSTpa-Aap03az6oTVDcwF5kKbniyBdCKPTPEmhFpYSUdRwODSkDcR8odMdc/s640/DSC_0024.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Socks. Thankfully pus free and smelling lovely</td></tr>
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In other news, there has been some knitting. Made some socks of which I am rather proud. Thanks as usual to <a href="http://maryjanemucklestone.com/books/">Mary Jane Mucklestone</a> for her genius in charting Fair Isle Patterns and counting the number of stitches required so that I don't have to. <br />
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*You might have guessed that yesterday is not strictly accurate. After Magnus' recovery the whole household was struck down with colds and this is me catching up with things only two weeks late. <div class="blogger-post-footer"><script src="http://www.google-analytics.com/urchin.js" type="text/javascript">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwAPGyC12X9omTkOkL_gMtFd_pM8xJ46kkc-7WHbYjXAl7ec22KmmhYNMC3KqmkCYLy0-8ojTogRZ0qYN5obyw3Dht8oiQVDzujKMPjLf4qRbNU_7psC6wn6eCseP5kvPVCVii_kEoMcE/s1600/DSC_0035-003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwAPGyC12X9omTkOkL_gMtFd_pM8xJ46kkc-7WHbYjXAl7ec22KmmhYNMC3KqmkCYLy0-8ojTogRZ0qYN5obyw3Dht8oiQVDzujKMPjLf4qRbNU_7psC6wn6eCseP5kvPVCVii_kEoMcE/s640/DSC_0035-003.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Magnus helps with the wrapping.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqIGJAeMpvhucYt5i_b-lJNELQBtCrPgd13fVxPMmbrY6_ANxf9ana1VLPiebIW6i8x2jc3samR5ptyE4NhMLE5tfzbFvtONjW1cB7WNqZ60QJ9reEp_flPY5As8n_InTYC3VnsN3GpA/s1600/DSC_0042-003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqIGJAeMpvhucYt5i_b-lJNELQBtCrPgd13fVxPMmbrY6_ANxf9ana1VLPiebIW6i8x2jc3samR5ptyE4NhMLE5tfzbFvtONjW1cB7WNqZ60QJ9reEp_flPY5As8n_InTYC3VnsN3GpA/s640/DSC_0042-003.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A small hopeful rainbow</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzkhKr0iE4VuKk7tusiEmj2OBY7YUAmk5kjf_4JhNfpONejIoQtQpDakHwc2JeSoxLE37A7q5YMTC18BhDniJee0VGBGAHMGdtEaJK92vAR45qgjBmHH-oe0oEcnKyKAMLIR3c4Eluhw/s1600/DSC_0073.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzkhKr0iE4VuKk7tusiEmj2OBY7YUAmk5kjf_4JhNfpONejIoQtQpDakHwc2JeSoxLE37A7q5YMTC18BhDniJee0VGBGAHMGdtEaJK92vAR45qgjBmHH-oe0oEcnKyKAMLIR3c4Eluhw/s640/DSC_0073.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frost on plastic.</td></tr>
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The weather not unreasonably for December, has dipped to below freezing. The garden looks amazing, the unweeded bits, the trees we should have pruned in the Autumn, even the scruffy piles of seeds that the birds throw down from their feeders look magical when covered in a chilly coating of frost. Further afield, the most unromantic of spots, the Park and Ride outside Perth is transformed. Narnia with a Megabus.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRzkhKr0iE4VuKk7tusiEmj2OBY7YUAmk5kjf_4JhNfpONejIoQtQpDakHwc2JeSoxLE37A7q5YMTC18BhDniJee0VGBGAHMGdtEaJK92vAR45qgjBmHH-oe0oEcnKyKAMLIR3c4Eluhw/s1600/DSC_0073.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5FtEOrS_4A_vtf5yqKGDICPuj2CT-cp-8Mc-g2ZmQhax58eU3Iw7LbWLYsDWsEXvEMFoetr7mMFCrI9AYDlC9GM0H7hoNJZFtQrMqWcCyp6Df6zEviMn4BRzXfL1-ICPq6G9-ME9ers0/s1600/DSC01828.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5FtEOrS_4A_vtf5yqKGDICPuj2CT-cp-8Mc-g2ZmQhax58eU3Iw7LbWLYsDWsEXvEMFoetr7mMFCrI9AYDlC9GM0H7hoNJZFtQrMqWcCyp6Df6zEviMn4BRzXfL1-ICPq6G9-ME9ers0/s640/DSC01828.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<br />
Today's chill has kept me by the cooker making <a href="http://www.nigella.com/recipes/view/andys-fairfield-granola-138">Granola</a> and lentil stew in quantities big enough to feed a hungry household. Abundant amounts of food make me happy. I like to feel that there is enough to go round and heaven knows, that feeling is in short supply right now. Like most people our household is keeping a canny eye on our spending and bargain of the week yesterday was a big packet of chillies, marked down to fifteen pence. My final job in the kitchen was to chop them into little bits and to avoid getting chilli juice in my eyes. They must be strong little fellows. I've washed my hands more often than Lady Macbeth but still they hurt like blazes. The chillies are spread out on greaseproof paper in the freezer waiting to be put into a plastic pot in order to pep up my cooking for many weeks to come. That's enough to forgive the tingle in my fingers.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6nwjg7hnb77BXPK8tGFebqyPtFGVzd33IPODPOqULE9Jl7rQJgjAQgKc_FqCMCAv-TbApJy2-qj8fidFpTKTvYS1i3Sz0budHZ2D5fMA82rY8UV11zIF086-ae4h3oK92tpaJ4NbaLA/s1600/DSC_0006-002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6nwjg7hnb77BXPK8tGFebqyPtFGVzd33IPODPOqULE9Jl7rQJgjAQgKc_FqCMCAv-TbApJy2-qj8fidFpTKTvYS1i3Sz0budHZ2D5fMA82rY8UV11zIF086-ae4h3oK92tpaJ4NbaLA/s640/DSC_0006-002.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chillies. Little did I know the pain in store.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5MyNNT2t6yGpBrTnYv4Q5n4RiZ4hBAXagHtWSt3cUmfPXgbrYCygDK5G1LkB0l7SvR3SEsg02Il5o6eBksPjzhgfeDvele2vsKxwGkaaDoh-O0WpYmWBedinDTzQJIxSYN_qXs3jc-8/s1600/DSC_0011-003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5MyNNT2t6yGpBrTnYv4Q5n4RiZ4hBAXagHtWSt3cUmfPXgbrYCygDK5G1LkB0l7SvR3SEsg02Il5o6eBksPjzhgfeDvele2vsKxwGkaaDoh-O0WpYmWBedinDTzQJIxSYN_qXs3jc-8/s640/DSC_0011-003.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Granola. Far more soothing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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In other news - Deb Robson is coming to the UK. I can't wait. Deb is one of the reasons I have a collection of fleeces in varying states of preparation, such is the power of her knowledge and enthusiasm. See her blog<a href="http://independentstitch.typepad.com/the_independent_stitch/2012/12/british-isles-2013.html"> here</a> for more details and if anyone has any ideas/inspirations/offers of help please get in touch with Deb, we're very lucky to have her.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script src="http://www.google-analytics.com/urchin.js" type="text/javascript">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoMWpHwJrGeVyg6sm8VUFHtNN7tcw_jadVY2gria3welybZhAn3mihDIYYpCrDhEjC5VjIk2QXexXAhbzKQRr9Tpdy5InjmQ1snQx_hU2kqafPJrHAFYZ_0Eh1mNUE-8oYG6jhDB3qk3A/s1600/DSC_0005-001.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoMWpHwJrGeVyg6sm8VUFHtNN7tcw_jadVY2gria3welybZhAn3mihDIYYpCrDhEjC5VjIk2QXexXAhbzKQRr9Tpdy5InjmQ1snQx_hU2kqafPJrHAFYZ_0Eh1mNUE-8oYG6jhDB3qk3A/s640/DSC_0005-001.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This hat has found the correct head..</td></tr>
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<br />
All the same, hats are handy things to have if you don't want to think too much about a pattern or, if like me you are knitting on the bus, or in a cafe. There are at least two jumpers in the back of my mind that I'd love to cast on but I know that they will take up too much room in a bag and will definitely take up too much room in my brain to knit in company. Hats it is then.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuY9b9sS_40nQ4wDMqreV8l8dyg51QBcTzO6S8aM1SLwc1vMt-9DniS3ZHrJDXL-yoeSIdFUcTtortqqiO3Ds7RhOjbpdIAEI0AdSR6i-G1vTrz_gGAGu6DkX6dfF587AX50ArD8b-R84/s1600/DSC_0065-001.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuY9b9sS_40nQ4wDMqreV8l8dyg51QBcTzO6S8aM1SLwc1vMt-9DniS3ZHrJDXL-yoeSIdFUcTtortqqiO3Ds7RhOjbpdIAEI0AdSR6i-G1vTrz_gGAGu6DkX6dfF587AX50ArD8b-R84/s640/DSC_0065-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hat surgery was required to re-knit a floppy rib.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was in Glasgow last weekend, hence the need for travel-safe knitting. Friday saw us at the wonderfully named <a href="http://www.thegladcafe.co.uk/">Glad Cafe</a> in Shawlands, watching the <a href="http://www.scq.org.uk/">Scottish Clarinet Quartet</a>. The SCQ were performing a score by Matt Rodgers which was accompanied by visuals from my chum Matt Hulse. There was a trailer shown for Matt H's latest <a href="http://www.dummyjim.com/">feature film</a> which oddly enough features me. You can see it <a href="http://vimeo.com/30690907">here</a>. I'm easy to spot.The rest of the week has been peaceful and often horizontal. I've read
and knitted and slept. When that became too much, I wrapped the cat up
in brown paper. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUHvx3mD2fN81e4nosI62heQE-9Dt4p5DQ5MRQIdAFR2iq9DB5AZST_fZ3KHPJ5r6FGLNsiDothvcITnlrqcCYx8o1B8Cop_Q0L4eg6vSb9bVIKzho5oh_at12BLlbG8gtmTjq_czHi3k/s1600/DSC_0021-003.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUHvx3mD2fN81e4nosI62heQE-9Dt4p5DQ5MRQIdAFR2iq9DB5AZST_fZ3KHPJ5r6FGLNsiDothvcITnlrqcCYx8o1B8Cop_Q0L4eg6vSb9bVIKzho5oh_at12BLlbG8gtmTjq_czHi3k/s640/DSC_0021-003.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He enjoys it, honest.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoMWpHwJrGeVyg6sm8VUFHtNN7tcw_jadVY2gria3welybZhAn3mihDIYYpCrDhEjC5VjIk2QXexXAhbzKQRr9Tpdy5InjmQ1snQx_hU2kqafPJrHAFYZ_0Eh1mNUE-8oYG6jhDB3qk3A/s1600/DSC_0005-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_2h3kbjIWUwdOLij202pCuzfTT1Q3hTwArdnGyPSuQV3konvebqsqE96jAYnIYUnurKMfRTACJcbXOjW0qgRIKfC-pat2Dssq4jcGnRZBarzePirPKZZOzVQythYQbI4VEhKu-yE6Pjw/s1600/DSC_0039.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_2h3kbjIWUwdOLij202pCuzfTT1Q3hTwArdnGyPSuQV3konvebqsqE96jAYnIYUnurKMfRTACJcbXOjW0qgRIKfC-pat2Dssq4jcGnRZBarzePirPKZZOzVQythYQbI4VEhKu-yE6Pjw/s640/DSC_0039.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Terje Vigen Mitts in handspun Hebridean and Merino ( the blue bit )</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm in need of some spiderly inspiration myself this week after spending days knitting what I thought would turn out to be a fabulous hat. Instead of a beautiful striped affair all I have to show for my efforts is two skeins of unravelled yarn soaking in a bowl. I had hoped to make<a href="http://brooklyntweed.net/store/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=2_9&products_id=128"> this </a>hat and I've got no quarrel with the pattern as I was using handspun yarn and didn't make a gauge swatch. That'll teach me. While I loved knitting the clever shaping and the bright slipped stitches, the end product was too floppy to show them off and the rib had a terrible tendency to slide down over my eyes. To make matters worse, I'd already used this yarn to knit another hat pattern that tuned out too big. I'm beginning to wonder if I've been cursed with a particularly small noggin.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYqDF-9dSr5O3tEZ7JgxFwdDlSKj8lz1HVR3Bvd-AiQGUqkd11NKQ3skVvirhk7E2QjesEhW3c3Thqr0aBpBVKzpZc43HtGT1W9zcRehjD4B1LdHcsxxCjUE26bj2pg_dDG-YfNUaO-BA/s1600/DSC_0016-001.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYqDF-9dSr5O3tEZ7JgxFwdDlSKj8lz1HVR3Bvd-AiQGUqkd11NKQ3skVvirhk7E2QjesEhW3c3Thqr0aBpBVKzpZc43HtGT1W9zcRehjD4B1LdHcsxxCjUE26bj2pg_dDG-YfNUaO-BA/s640/DSC_0016-001.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The felt balls before. best use for a pair of tights ever.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
If at first you don't succeed - rip the thing back and cast on for another hat. That's what I love about knitting, there are very few mistakes that can't be rectified by ripping back, felting or some other radical act of craftwork. This time I will be re-knitting in a pattern called <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/joon">Joon</a>. I'll make the stripes different and omit the slipped stitches for this one. Who knows, the third attempt might just be the winner.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgstkuQ4j6fl8pBCXcU9RoGOKQ_Ct066A06NFiFVjhtZ9oClzBLDJG2m-bXu2VsOKuQ9FMt9BiJoI-myPWDow-uIJrqZv8t87m4OSUrSaoJB269X_JlU0Wlu9XhJHEhizGMhi3YU2wYyqg/s1600/DSC_0005-005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgstkuQ4j6fl8pBCXcU9RoGOKQ_Ct066A06NFiFVjhtZ9oClzBLDJG2m-bXu2VsOKuQ9FMt9BiJoI-myPWDow-uIJrqZv8t87m4OSUrSaoJB269X_JlU0Wlu9XhJHEhizGMhi3YU2wYyqg/s640/DSC_0005-005.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After - cat waits patiently.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYaJPL9xNoHqJ6imhwOyXrYbFrqkkKjqrIjwnM6qqOn_xG2PMyzVDYKke9hnSYU_h58xb3pKky6UBITq5MzFqjcwKAoRYRrfJkpGm_5hLXsZO4aEEe_kVVtPeQ_SxJvJJHoOIz5kFcTOs/s1600/DSC_0033-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYaJPL9xNoHqJ6imhwOyXrYbFrqkkKjqrIjwnM6qqOn_xG2PMyzVDYKke9hnSYU_h58xb3pKky6UBITq5MzFqjcwKAoRYRrfJkpGm_5hLXsZO4aEEe_kVVtPeQ_SxJvJJHoOIz5kFcTOs/s640/DSC_0033-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jabob fleece after combing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It isn't all bad, in the last wee while I've knitted two successful projects and have been persevering with my Jacob fleece prep. I'm using some of the leftovers from combing to make felted balls. Magnus thinks that they are cat toys but I really meant to make felted garlands. The cat has won so far. There are wooly spheres rumbling around all over the floor. There is a lot of fleece to use up so by Christmas there might be enough of them to please me and the beast.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtc2e8w5y_DONwmzSzZUXQWunFh52N4HbSAnTNGOh8sNXzBE-dzI07wVZqVRsGcIqgSPS2MB1YoQEWt8aan6omKVx7o57l9a_v03Dagiaz1LYyrmm42FLdmjqPCiE5p_CVEWZq07JtSLc/s1600/DSC_0074.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtc2e8w5y_DONwmzSzZUXQWunFh52N4HbSAnTNGOh8sNXzBE-dzI07wVZqVRsGcIqgSPS2MB1YoQEWt8aan6omKVx7o57l9a_v03Dagiaz1LYyrmm42FLdmjqPCiE5p_CVEWZq07JtSLc/s640/DSC_0074.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kaiso pattern from Knitted Socks East and West. Modified to use some Manx Laoghtan handspun.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipNdiH3LXVSPbJTWfMquPBk4pbTDNrPeusdFCzTFw43VSEBFVeyW-cP9469-qENKnEB6wuktAcD2WWdhozo6vOEwdeQxnyptZIB9cbjde8GuGGMRPh6qN2KlLxnQfDtHQZ4_DUObDaK14/s1600/DSC_0008-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipNdiH3LXVSPbJTWfMquPBk4pbTDNrPeusdFCzTFw43VSEBFVeyW-cP9469-qENKnEB6wuktAcD2WWdhozo6vOEwdeQxnyptZIB9cbjde8GuGGMRPh6qN2KlLxnQfDtHQZ4_DUObDaK14/s640/DSC_0008-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our deadly hot chilli crop. Apparently Scotch Bonnets aren't called that because of their suitability to the Scottish climate.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It is nearly Halloween and the horror came early to our house. At least for the cat. When our lovely friend ( and vet ) Jaqui came to visit us with her husband a few months ago she took one look at Magnus and said; " Diabetes. " In other words, that beast is too fat and he is endangering his health. We cut down the cat food and waited for the slimline version to appear. Nothing happened. Not a centimetre of cat was reduced. We suspected that Magnus was dining out. That was confirmed when the lovely boy jumped onto my lap one day <i>before</i> teatime and promptly burped a cat-food burp in my face. Someone is feeding him and we have to ask them to stop. Or alert them to the fact that there is a great big stripey cat coming into their house and stealing their cat food. I have decided that the best way to do this is by hanging a small label on Magnus. The sign will read. "Do not Feed. Vet's orders."<br />
<br />
In order to achieve my aim, first of all I had to fasten a collar onto his neck. Trickier than it sounds as all the collars in the shop had bells on them designed to stop the wearer sneaking up on the unsuspecting bird population. It also prevents the worried cat owner from sneaking up on an overweight cat in order to fit the collar in the first place. After much wrangling and a little bloodshed, the collar has been affixed. I haven't added the label yet, I figured it would be kinder to let him get used to the collar first before adding complications. He hates it. I took this photo a day after he succumbed to the collar - in my mind this is Magnus' subconscious showing just how much he hates it. It has been pointed out that the picture bears a frightening resemblance to the adverts for <a href="http://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http://www.impawards.com/1976/posters/omen.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.impawards.com/1976/omen.html&h=755&w=492&sz=31&tbnid=iAQ813PwJrfglM:&tbnh=90&tbnw=59&prev=/search%3Fq%3Domen%2Bposter%2B1976%26tbm%3Disch%26tbo%3Du&zoom=1&q=omen+poster+1976&usg=__P-ydJE12zczw3S8U23d0jClw4bM=&docid=ZyZ0owWkzHbbVM&hl=en&sa=X&ei=FI2NUPXGKqTD0QX0qIHICQ&ved=0CCsQ9QEwAg&dur=1019">The Omen</a>. That can't be a coincidence.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmbH_kbgN9g2X7m5Xm1bWhAQPjeGWn7KfGZN4j7Yc9m9TCe8hGKQF3QJ2WApMTB1WG2xeUC51xCS-Gw_WQY30D5DewIdj7Xd5wYX1dL7SrC1esdl-cBT1jLZuaprMxNNiTQT067-HZ34c/s1600/DSC_0003.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmbH_kbgN9g2X7m5Xm1bWhAQPjeGWn7KfGZN4j7Yc9m9TCe8hGKQF3QJ2WApMTB1WG2xeUC51xCS-Gw_WQY30D5DewIdj7Xd5wYX1dL7SrC1esdl-cBT1jLZuaprMxNNiTQT067-HZ34c/s640/DSC_0003.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Terrifying. Just terrifying.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In other news, I have been learning how to make Dorset Buttons and so far have managed
to make a grand total of one. And that was with help. I am ridiculously
pleased with with how my one button turned out. Any suggestions for
using it? On a tiny mouse jacket? A hat for a large spider?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigxtWAqdmTGPLDGjrLbbd0psdbK28E5IlF0htBEfoaK0PLVy-O6EbwJi4xt2tD9UnwZ0dkMF0UWA4jdatMu9v8DjOW456qmZj3qnqOQQJ5_Feai1zt9FxNLlr8I4WEBA3rNNVMmhNpxEA/s1600/ff.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigxtWAqdmTGPLDGjrLbbd0psdbK28E5IlF0htBEfoaK0PLVy-O6EbwJi4xt2tD9UnwZ0dkMF0UWA4jdatMu9v8DjOW456qmZj3qnqOQQJ5_Feai1zt9FxNLlr8I4WEBA3rNNVMmhNpxEA/s640/ff.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And a tranquil button to finish.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-pM8leRZlAETGf5QqRTvQF7fDsopaS_mVxZ_HhcNuLelQAxzoDx_Q8B6ua0glYE1cgAMgVRSQQGIEdf9g3SdMj_JRZD4i33oWzfe2IPXxn-WbdsUrllZBM5poQHL4asodMtAbkd4S-K0/s1600/DSC_0001.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-pM8leRZlAETGf5QqRTvQF7fDsopaS_mVxZ_HhcNuLelQAxzoDx_Q8B6ua0glYE1cgAMgVRSQQGIEdf9g3SdMj_JRZD4i33oWzfe2IPXxn-WbdsUrllZBM5poQHL4asodMtAbkd4S-K0/s640/DSC_0001.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Book Spine Poem I made yesterday.</td></tr>
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Yesterday was National Poetry Day in the UK, I would have written a post then but I was lost in a tussle with some Jacob Fleece. A lovely friend is teaching me the spinning technique called Long Draw and she insists on me practising every day. This version of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Long_draw">Long Draw</a> is the way that many Scottish spinners would have spun to make the most of our hardy sheep with short stapled fleeces. I need to be proficient in hand carding and the production of good <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rolag">rolags</a> before I have the slightest chance of getting the spinning part right so I am diligently doing my homework. As with many things, it looks simple but is very hard to do well. Most of the time I'm making a dreadful mess of things but once in a while everything goes right and it feels as if I've just learned how to fly. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5514IM8anRMsdVupm8gyT7Y9rBwaUrH8VVZ6rXyM_0O1iph2Epin0pg5iYZHq0NrIMQxWHZCdeg2Wdzh_5Frslv9ax0gi6f9N6FJb_bUHLNuE1F9dA-SZd0ml8IB1Bv1sFhOzeLz7jw0/s1600/DSC_0240.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5514IM8anRMsdVupm8gyT7Y9rBwaUrH8VVZ6rXyM_0O1iph2Epin0pg5iYZHq0NrIMQxWHZCdeg2Wdzh_5Frslv9ax0gi6f9N6FJb_bUHLNuE1F9dA-SZd0ml8IB1Bv1sFhOzeLz7jw0/s640/DSC_0240.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A gymnastic duck</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmESxkfGO7isjTDMfvZIDTK_EU_EwWqX81qrhQpEBDvcQa-Rflh2N4ZMJTEFJlfV1pm-9rs9Dn8Xh0-WRCSc3NfXEgp0kPuNZlUVzlT2rdwy-oSOMUmlvwhbM1JA2xx8Lv6lz-h77R1-o/s1600/ryeland+white+and+coloured+%281%29.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmESxkfGO7isjTDMfvZIDTK_EU_EwWqX81qrhQpEBDvcQa-Rflh2N4ZMJTEFJlfV1pm-9rs9Dn8Xh0-WRCSc3NfXEgp0kPuNZlUVzlT2rdwy-oSOMUmlvwhbM1JA2xx8Lv6lz-h77R1-o/s640/ryeland+white+and+coloured+%281%29.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hungry Ryeland Sheep</td></tr>
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Last weekend was the <a href="http://www.scottishsmallholdershow.co.uk/">Scottish Smallholder and Grower Festival</a> and I spend a wonderful day meeting many types of sheep and the people who care for them. There were other animals too - pigs, cattle, poultry, including a duck who stood on one leg just in time for me to take a picture, as well as many crafts and foodstuffs to admire. The Show Entries were a poem all to themselves. Here are some of my favourites.<br />
<br />
<br />
Thumbstick<br />
Leg Cleek<br />
A Floral Arrangement in a Wellington<br />
<br />
Three White Girdle Scones<br />
A Clootie Dumpling<br />
Four squares of Vanilla Tablet<br />
<br />
Kid<br />
Goatling<br />
Best Pygmy Goat<br />
<br />
Gilts and Boars<br />
Senior Sows<br />
Best Pig Pen <br />
<br />
Scots Dumpy <br />
Hard Feather<br />
Cream Crested Legbar<br />
<br />
Close Wool<br />
Long Wool<br />
Ram Lamb<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigxETsXRRR57-aHmtYvaZ1cHG-qhqZFaCmJY4IIoyhps3ukwfQtp237qsJgVwTXjyAnhm6lT6cw3VuuyUngc1Eo2VPsfUZJ4st8wM1E7WDD537MlOJVmZFRe3mVOxv-fAp-fgF3JEPgi8/s1600/DSC_0111.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigxETsXRRR57-aHmtYvaZ1cHG-qhqZFaCmJY4IIoyhps3ukwfQtp237qsJgVwTXjyAnhm6lT6cw3VuuyUngc1Eo2VPsfUZJ4st8wM1E7WDD537MlOJVmZFRe3mVOxv-fAp-fgF3JEPgi8/s640/DSC_0111.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Showing a sheep.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsnzqjchsZvNAAcxzD3zjj33CfkvlzUKvM65AWl-JC3GqCKBzRA7zmZhIbkBuwV54XYfKfi5eCWVV2smKSJjgjrxa3klL_08VuG7YeNueWOtA2Cy6EHaV8CYVvNxP4JKI91oVJyE1lrV8/s1600/DSC_0206.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsnzqjchsZvNAAcxzD3zjj33CfkvlzUKvM65AWl-JC3GqCKBzRA7zmZhIbkBuwV54XYfKfi5eCWVV2smKSJjgjrxa3klL_08VuG7YeNueWOtA2Cy6EHaV8CYVvNxP4JKI91oVJyE1lrV8/s640/DSC_0206.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lincoln Longwool ( I think )</td></tr>
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<span id="goog_1919269415"></span><span id="goog_1919269416"></span><br />
Happy Day After National Poetry Day, Day. <br />
<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_6TICYQ38i8k2rp7uvMZyS35TxWe9NQveOcNN2GqD_m0mU482DSc9GKH_AAkLaZBtaXDCFlXqIRh-rZ2XFMuwMqYd0KY5PqtpfnVAWaxYsLhAVk1Pok7Oyned6xfJU5GwgtMw6JcoYrg/s1600/DSC_0002-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_6TICYQ38i8k2rp7uvMZyS35TxWe9NQveOcNN2GqD_m0mU482DSc9GKH_AAkLaZBtaXDCFlXqIRh-rZ2XFMuwMqYd0KY5PqtpfnVAWaxYsLhAVk1Pok7Oyned6xfJU5GwgtMw6JcoYrg/s640/DSC_0002-001.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flowers courtesy of my lad. Rain courtesy of the Heavens.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAvMJdqv3T8v92C24IR9Skv3IVqjtQvYSeEOBpgCJbGciPPx1Tu0H7GKdbk5HuZx8HB3IPYq5_4YL7XR0au8GQIX9wvJZQ8bvwzQjZOXFPOCPPitKlX3pVEQ6uPzMI7uoF3Sdm-Q7-mB4/s1600/DSC_0040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAvMJdqv3T8v92C24IR9Skv3IVqjtQvYSeEOBpgCJbGciPPx1Tu0H7GKdbk5HuZx8HB3IPYq5_4YL7XR0au8GQIX9wvJZQ8bvwzQjZOXFPOCPPitKlX3pVEQ6uPzMI7uoF3Sdm-Q7-mB4/s640/DSC_0040.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thing are changing.</td></tr>
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<br />
The robin has moved back into the garden from the woods calling out his territorial claims in the sweetest manner. It always amuses me that the song I find so appealing is really a bloodthirsty reminder to the other robins that <i>this seat is taken</i>. Another noise in the village at the moment is the sound of the combine harvesters. Over the last few weeks the air has started to smell toasty as the fields ripen and thankfully we now have weather good enough for the harvesters to do their stuff. Their work doesn't stop, you can hear the far away rumblings throughout the night as the farmers make the most of the dry spell.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiReg5VGV4SNw2K_7LpQ1y0hISyyYneen9FEVfdg_oexZB96P2_hSluz0Q0e260sWoxxBuBPPWCdsD8WkevBbEKU-uSfeyMQtCcx3cD0fETyW9lMWzNmsYr8ambln4022QHLZfIBVK3G6s/s1600/DSC_0056-001.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiReg5VGV4SNw2K_7LpQ1y0hISyyYneen9FEVfdg_oexZB96P2_hSluz0Q0e260sWoxxBuBPPWCdsD8WkevBbEKU-uSfeyMQtCcx3cD0fETyW9lMWzNmsYr8ambln4022QHLZfIBVK3G6s/s640/DSC_0056-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mini Combs, my new best friends.</td></tr>
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<br />
There has been some harvesting in the gardens and woods too, with friends bringing gifts of wild mushrooms, blackberries and some courgettes that were left on the stalk so long that they are mammoth marrows. I've taken to making hot chocolate in the evening and reading books about spinning and quilt making. The temptation to hibernate is very strong but I'm planning to work on some spinning before sleep takes over. A local farm has some beautiful Jacob sheep and I was lucky enough to get a fleece. I'm slowly working my way through it, separating the colours and spinning them individually in the hopes that one day it will become a wonderful Fair Isle jumper. Patience will be required and I hope, rewarded.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLgiYl74sWUgFffdraxtz8bnVJSxKSnnu1JgD6bDHUlers67J6Um-tMF_KEFr3tQ33VFYd2FFTTllIIc2lBsano_7C6cv2wSbUWvoILPJf9y2R6_fCJ_NcTEZO9pYjIjMPjAR95o6Iy3s/s1600/DSC_0020-003.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLgiYl74sWUgFffdraxtz8bnVJSxKSnnu1JgD6bDHUlers67J6Um-tMF_KEFr3tQ33VFYd2FFTTllIIc2lBsano_7C6cv2wSbUWvoILPJf9y2R6_fCJ_NcTEZO9pYjIjMPjAR95o6Iy3s/s640/DSC_0020-003.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Magnus, always willing to help.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtoA3P_CNyOdq0uCk7NkWz2Lr1G1vDPXjEeMr2lGaHfaIyf09hicr6EbrsYWxKQ9jNxB-MqmFMN-tKatPCRuPeQOI0lz8vmO1B43sGtYkzsq5I3j4AlHYuYSgjlBVs2oFbmXqBM9eW-jA/s1600/DSC_0028-003.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtoA3P_CNyOdq0uCk7NkWz2Lr1G1vDPXjEeMr2lGaHfaIyf09hicr6EbrsYWxKQ9jNxB-MqmFMN-tKatPCRuPeQOI0lz8vmO1B43sGtYkzsq5I3j4AlHYuYSgjlBVs2oFbmXqBM9eW-jA/s640/DSC_0028-003.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Socks glowing in the Autumn sun.</td></tr>
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<br />
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Remember that there is a shoulder of pork keeping company with the Irn Bru and allow the mind to wander back to a holiday in Boston where some very tasty Pulled Pork was eaten in the company of friends. Remember also that there are recipes for pork cooked in Coke. Wonder what would happen if the Irn Bru and the shoulder of pork were introduced to each other and left alone for many hours in the oven. Promise to buy family member another can of Scud.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSaU23qpA46CZyaJc7LI4W3QTT59eJUyYOeaAqlQUOinvlflUt-afZyHS_UCplr4CRVZinMIGSOjzA29TD8jRhC7KosdOXH6Ei_ano5J7jh53ZDZRVgzZXVV9hhvchME52dBIi_FWjedI/s1600/DSC_0088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSaU23qpA46CZyaJc7LI4W3QTT59eJUyYOeaAqlQUOinvlflUt-afZyHS_UCplr4CRVZinMIGSOjzA29TD8jRhC7KosdOXH6Ei_ano5J7jh53ZDZRVgzZXVV9hhvchME52dBIi_FWjedI/s640/DSC_0088.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unlikely but tasty</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Make a rub of salt, pepper, chilli flakes, smoked paprika, straightforward paprika and cinnamon. Remove the layer of fat from the top of the pork shoulder ( my shoulder was 2kg ) and apply the rub all over. Stick into a heavy casserole with a tight fitting lid and add some bashed up garlic cloves. I didn't skin the garlic and no-one noticed. Pour over the can of Scud and about 100 mil of vinegar. In keeping with the classy Scottish ingredients, I used the malt vinegar that normally goes on my chips. Posher folks might like to use posher vinegar. Put the lid on the casserole and leave in a low oven (about 170 degrees) for four to five hours. I checked mine now and then, added a little more liquid and shredded the pork with a fork when it gave way. The house will smell as if you are cooking the most complicated char sui recipe and only you will know how easy it really is. Only you and the poor soul whose can of Irn Bru was sacrificed. Eat on soft white rolls with a sharp green salad and some coleslaw. <br />
<br />
Other food we ate this week included.....<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5mXOtHJY1GhQPEK5IJSmLcj20m70hFntYxiD8Wysdw1jlHHIXvjWoR6koJpiJZ8B3KYxSpD_kKK1IjqEjMprR5i2QrZM_bLtvkdk0MjnUVbQ-FbUBW_RpfDWKg8G2MkZSnC4M6UJZ8yQ/s1600/DSC_0187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5mXOtHJY1GhQPEK5IJSmLcj20m70hFntYxiD8Wysdw1jlHHIXvjWoR6koJpiJZ8B3KYxSpD_kKK1IjqEjMprR5i2QrZM_bLtvkdk0MjnUVbQ-FbUBW_RpfDWKg8G2MkZSnC4M6UJZ8yQ/s640/DSC_0187.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">left over porridge bread.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGwB74OjGTNh6jYX7FA9mDbGLGIaa6-vxBPU5wAUfhyZdX_wfLEp5GID2kXoXgye_BKItUM1yGhh6QZqXe-A7MuBpG5aj7KpJHbP7YdFq0jEEIPYJcG1OB1iCekkRK4f4YHxH13KZru6Y/s1600/DSC_0116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGwB74OjGTNh6jYX7FA9mDbGLGIaa6-vxBPU5wAUfhyZdX_wfLEp5GID2kXoXgye_BKItUM1yGhh6QZqXe-A7MuBpG5aj7KpJHbP7YdFq0jEEIPYJcG1OB1iCekkRK4f4YHxH13KZru6Y/s640/DSC_0116.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fish frenzy from Arbroath for my Aussie relatives</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What is left after a fish frenzy with my Aussie relatives.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Creme Fraiche with nutmeg, cinnamon and apple pie moonshine. Goes down a treat with a lemony pie.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Back down to earth with a thump, from the dreaminess of creme fraiche and home made bread to the reality of my kitchen. This is what it looks like with a wider lens. A broken vase and some half-dead herbs. That's more like it.<br />
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1. Find travelling companions that you know online and have yet to meet
in the real world. It helps if at least one of them is a knitter.<br />
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2. Choose a location that you love and want to share with your new friends.<br />
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3. Pray for good weather but remember that God doesn't listen to atheists. Think positive sunny thoughts for back up.<br />
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4.
Bring tasty food and make sure that the Moonshine that your companions
sneaked over in their luggage is packed and ready to blow your socks
off.<br />
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5. Seek local knowledge about sheep breeds and the phone number of the people who own the Hebridean flock.<br />
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6. When prayers for sun are answered, wear a hat and sunscreen and enjoy the bluest of skies.<br />
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7. Revel in the serendipity that brought you good weather and a Highland Games all in the same day.<br />
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8. Buy beautiful yarn from the<a href="http://www.ripplescrafts.com/"> local yarn artiste </a>whilst fending off the advances of a small white dog.<br />
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9. Admire the wildlife.<br />
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10. Take a quiet moment to be grateful for the leap of faith that led you to share your holiday with such lovely people.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jacqui teaching an Ullapool stallholder how to graft the toe of her sock.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Newly knitted handspun socks with an Assynt backdrop</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hebridean Sheep.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andrew and Jacqui with the fleeces.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhikTFscMXysz8a3JhxmkThv5lFjdUUXHM780Iw8NcgYGOdY8MTgshbHZ3MIbwCPlyFDM9n6QsBZMqdGCX3_9s_3a-mwtKZWGQVbmBAAxJuwiDfe4bKhrFe38Gjcu_7-MUmI1DwcmA850Y/s1600/DSC_0295.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhikTFscMXysz8a3JhxmkThv5lFjdUUXHM780Iw8NcgYGOdY8MTgshbHZ3MIbwCPlyFDM9n6QsBZMqdGCX3_9s_3a-mwtKZWGQVbmBAAxJuwiDfe4bKhrFe38Gjcu_7-MUmI1DwcmA850Y/s640/DSC_0295.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stoer beach perfecting its impression of the Caribbean.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have no idea what this sport is called - heavy handbag throwing?</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhur2F25vdQ_AlUYTE60j2Kt7WDn7UbIslDW6Fc336rd0d67jTSscinRJmq9hM0xaVKO3PsyakxlDwnoRrSkoTKZmsBIynYv64xsHcQsTkHx54qsYSz10jLNb-bHCB_nbKneWO5_jjE_jk/s1600/DSC_0144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhur2F25vdQ_AlUYTE60j2Kt7WDn7UbIslDW6Fc336rd0d67jTSscinRJmq9hM0xaVKO3PsyakxlDwnoRrSkoTKZmsBIynYv64xsHcQsTkHx54qsYSz10jLNb-bHCB_nbKneWO5_jjE_jk/s640/DSC_0144.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Helen the yarn dyer's dog.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHDNZOJ6Y9JH1YrQAVphwvCeO3zlt7rtFWxVQ05umn6FdNVYzySzwiOXVdjRcjckdHSrDa8X9MMmlKFOtb3bIxgm6IP1smrsn4RjDfY-FfoYnA9PtYqbLYtBvIdAyiH5ANGHvGECk0Ssk/s1600/DSC_0046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHDNZOJ6Y9JH1YrQAVphwvCeO3zlt7rtFWxVQ05umn6FdNVYzySzwiOXVdjRcjckdHSrDa8X9MMmlKFOtb3bIxgm6IP1smrsn4RjDfY-FfoYnA9PtYqbLYtBvIdAyiH5ANGHvGECk0Ssk/s640/DSC_0046.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wild kitten being cuddled by the smartest young person in Sutherland.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOAJNxu_HXO7S_ebx08vjcJoFphQXUqnk5Y_p5Z_mgqeHwi95kvjU4jS45EPtDwggGyMrHwl2nfccCl5NyBpphpEcJC3E7w0adICLBsTpiCZg49ZBsO20JaQCyspL8L5CbzwNkpKQW_f4/s1600/DSC_0369.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOAJNxu_HXO7S_ebx08vjcJoFphQXUqnk5Y_p5Z_mgqeHwi95kvjU4jS45EPtDwggGyMrHwl2nfccCl5NyBpphpEcJC3E7w0adICLBsTpiCZg49ZBsO20JaQCyspL8L5CbzwNkpKQW_f4/s640/DSC_0369.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An Ullapool sunset.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbdsQxH4Ex34IAH0SvGiaETl_AkfrIwxN3Z0fcUjw3UlSw12V2Uh2lgt9nc8uhTgwCAX1teAS_4E3q6Rt1oi3rBOOdV-36aDu-AFRpGPnPesl5ueZ0LvACGy_CY_8Rkr11xR6cyiYGfUw/s1600/DSC_0533.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbdsQxH4Ex34IAH0SvGiaETl_AkfrIwxN3Z0fcUjw3UlSw12V2Uh2lgt9nc8uhTgwCAX1teAS_4E3q6Rt1oi3rBOOdV-36aDu-AFRpGPnPesl5ueZ0LvACGy_CY_8Rkr11xR6cyiYGfUw/s640/DSC_0533.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr Mark Cousins.</td></tr>
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Let me give you an example starring my newest socks, a beautiful film and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walt_Whitman">Walt Whitman</a>. I went to the cinema to see the premiere of <a href="http://whatisthisfilmcalledlove.co.uk/">What is this film called Love</a> made by Mark Cousins. The result of a few spare days in Mexico City, a couple of quid and a laminated image of <a href="http://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/4f/Sergei_Eisenstein_01.jpg/220px-Sergei_Eisenstein_01.jpg&imgrefurl=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sergei_Eisenstein&h=328&w=220&sz=25&tbnid=wz6HZhEbaVw9HM:&tbnh=104&tbnw=70&zoom=1&usg=__eTb8z34KCBYhQ-WlAI-QLZ6fuwk=&docid=fRWUZmoKv1A9KM&hl=en&sa=X&ei=9KUKUI2SMOWe0QW9kNWnCg&sqi=2&ved=0CFoQ9QEwAQ&dur=121">Sergei Eisenstein.</a> WITFCL is a glorious wide open invitation to wander through the mind of the director, finding common ground as you go. Everything is imbued with importance, from children playing to a fly on a ledge. Heroes and heroines, poems and imagery, are celebrated with a full on enthusiasm that made my heart happy. Best of all, the film was a lesson in sticking to your creative guns, a note to self to believe in your own ideas.<br />
<span id="goog_780780344"></span><span id="goog_780780345"></span><br />
A discussion after the film led me to look into Walt Whitman, shamefully all I knew about his poetry came from my teenage exposure to the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tG-wl2qqD7Y">Kids From Fame</a>. This was not likely to be the best example of his work so I decided to get hold of a copy of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leaves_of_Grass">Leaves of Grass</a>. The introduction to the book was by E.M. Forster. You can read it <a href="http://www.anselm.edu/homepage/dbanach/forster.htm">here</a> and I would recommend that you do. I haven't read any of Whitman's poetry yet but I've read the introduction six times and found an uncanny echo of what I had learned watching Mark Cousin's film. This is what Forster says: <br />
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<i>" The average man needs to be just a little braver. He loses so much happiness through what might be termed "minor cowardices". Why are we so afraid of doing the "wrong thing," of wearing the "wrong clothes," of knowing the "wrong people," of pronouncing the names of artists or musicians wrongly? What in the name of Beauty does it matter? Why don't we trust ourselves more and the conventions less?"</i><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgseIpBDmgMkhlOjvrlyVZm5QZPtSvpSoucAmNXXz79GtDccBn8Mp1ieOqnzqq_20Nbv5YwduRlGus570sj8otFjT_tuc8CbI9w3b7oWcDKOk5oCA4ctzWzFWAiFYOJoF65twPjaQJhtAg/s1600/DSC_0133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgseIpBDmgMkhlOjvrlyVZm5QZPtSvpSoucAmNXXz79GtDccBn8Mp1ieOqnzqq_20Nbv5YwduRlGus570sj8otFjT_tuc8CbI9w3b7oWcDKOk5oCA4ctzWzFWAiFYOJoF65twPjaQJhtAg/s640/DSC_0133.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Socks.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT5G71XPuuyvMmQhrgWNduOLvxRhDgxcOfG2MbwtgUJt6Fbp-j6ubFGcZTWWVOcAoNj0kCJCu7LnLdHC5mwQNgY87YCJSuvAFZUqPx_dbkUWOuPxfQ9EJFdYzIg30c3eDsabqmJvdBYPs/s1600/DSC_0021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT5G71XPuuyvMmQhrgWNduOLvxRhDgxcOfG2MbwtgUJt6Fbp-j6ubFGcZTWWVOcAoNj0kCJCu7LnLdHC5mwQNgY87YCJSuvAFZUqPx_dbkUWOuPxfQ9EJFdYzIg30c3eDsabqmJvdBYPs/s640/DSC_0021.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and the scrappy bits.</td></tr>
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One thing I am never afraid of is wearing the wrong socks and I knitted these beauties in a fit of Fair Isle enthusiasm that I hold <a href="http://maryjanemucklestone.com/books/">Mary Jane Mucklestone's</a> book entirely responsible for.<i> </i>They are made from the scraps leftover from other sock endeavours and I had been struggling to find a name for them when E.M.Forster came to my rescue. During one of my many re-readings, I found this. Happiness, Forster suggests will not be with us all of the time, it would be unrealistic to hope that it could. <i>"But" </i>he says <i>" we may hope for intensity of beauty; that is absolutely certain." </i>there will be <i>"what one may call the irreducible minimum, the inalienable dowry of humanity: Beauty in scraps." </i> I looked at my socks, looked back at the page and thought that's exactly what I have. Beauty in scraps.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Eh9rlrqqmAzP6f4SmjMHzgcXOuOqs20VyszteiAkVP7rtcHJzAIhnGfbr53CE7y_Sa-Mw_siy0hLajrw8M3UAMqGWsRHCB6eBU8-4hunVzRcQw-iTM2-SaeC2rk8CPQ3GTNsl5CqM9s/s1600/DSC_0049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Eh9rlrqqmAzP6f4SmjMHzgcXOuOqs20VyszteiAkVP7rtcHJzAIhnGfbr53CE7y_Sa-Mw_siy0hLajrw8M3UAMqGWsRHCB6eBU8-4hunVzRcQw-iTM2-SaeC2rk8CPQ3GTNsl5CqM9s/s640/DSC_0049.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In other news, I've been spinning.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgETamJaTr2Jm0G5kpZFQ4GR4Uw3tIUi9fzE94OrvxY2icRbXzemWwJIyysmP5RiYCs9iiLLnOoeLj4qqXJz3ey33VUuHEjIn_djscB1P6Mt9ZU4Uz6wpYxq6vTevo2XTkgQsDN9LvMA_0/s1600/DSC_0012-003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgETamJaTr2Jm0G5kpZFQ4GR4Uw3tIUi9fzE94OrvxY2icRbXzemWwJIyysmP5RiYCs9iiLLnOoeLj4qqXJz3ey33VUuHEjIn_djscB1P6Mt9ZU4Uz6wpYxq6vTevo2XTkgQsDN9LvMA_0/s640/DSC_0012-003.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First raspberries of the season.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF7gxufIA5kXygkfFaWrXe_wQ2Qxd9qIguwWkrnX5RScV0jticRr7mX2Cfcp9nyXjSlQ8RzavUatuMq6bYIQPUiPdlvQZJ2lCEGsn7hKQ-YHTjNmi-mkjbWoiBcYeMtXBp31pLpbnBBss/s1600/DSC_0005-002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF7gxufIA5kXygkfFaWrXe_wQ2Qxd9qIguwWkrnX5RScV0jticRr7mX2Cfcp9nyXjSlQ8RzavUatuMq6bYIQPUiPdlvQZJ2lCEGsn7hKQ-YHTjNmi-mkjbWoiBcYeMtXBp31pLpbnBBss/s640/DSC_0005-002.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fennel weather forecast.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR7aXJWEA9DES7XKSn8om3NCdVpA_K-G4SEoeLrqrm9er1xWweK16B016EWIeh6kFxEtfCeDetNoStZkPxChF_kApbG02NzxL3axxUsplwb7E6yGFR_t6nwsABSDF8cyRa2se0zqzoNhQ/s640/DSC_0003.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Usual post breakfast spot.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKBRiwJXVSG4Dpse6E83qsXhd8RpEcfFnv81ganP8eLtS8ZYpwNEVTEi7L3H3WKq5yxegYva0qXDUZx1z6wOhxel6ohLcnGx_HFX6Cs17qBF4TYLGX4zeYpTzf93Rlt27Ha3RA10MH2w/s1600/DSC_0046-002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKBRiwJXVSG4Dpse6E83qsXhd8RpEcfFnv81ganP8eLtS8ZYpwNEVTEi7L3H3WKq5yxegYva0qXDUZx1z6wOhxel6ohLcnGx_HFX6Cs17qBF4TYLGX4zeYpTzf93Rlt27Ha3RA10MH2w/s640/DSC_0046-002.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Redcurrants - already in the freezer and in my tummy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2mYISCh677_uD0VcvlmH9Xp6XJLkJaTxFhpCzpQAP5WSTSBRJF7mPTZEaq_zC9oeQLLAfdU8Qs9SrljelwTk5Ka_sp4CIhsXVFswAkb1g_x9_CRDnxvs102A-b9OJ6Pj-XOOLZsYH8XA/s1600/DSC_0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2mYISCh677_uD0VcvlmH9Xp6XJLkJaTxFhpCzpQAP5WSTSBRJF7mPTZEaq_zC9oeQLLAfdU8Qs9SrljelwTk5Ka_sp4CIhsXVFswAkb1g_x9_CRDnxvs102A-b9OJ6Pj-XOOLZsYH8XA/s640/DSC_0032.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When the sun shines this place is beautiful.</td></tr>
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I'm in a really good place right now. Not in any new-age self-help sense, I mean in terms of bricks and mortar. Some chums have taken themselves off on holiday and left me in charge of their home. I am also responsible for the well being of a collie with a tail like a Burlesque dancer's fan and a sweet tempered cat who has all the food removal skills of the smartest sneak thief. My joy would be complete if the sun was shining but as the rain and mist bring with them the smell of the sea only a few minutes walk from my door, I can hardly complain. It reminds me of growing up in another small Scottish seaside town where the bovine call of the foghorn would be heard on damp days.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8OcQhXOBgIcA6w_5BA-ZQTJB1TtPYmZqpbZpyXVNPWD70n-e73zneJZuvgYtjqCDhxuX8rUb4qOarNBgeqGJLWMeuU3fnSQo1Hn0wMOAJqoLOFZ4BUT9ztm0K_xVKH7BJwx-S-iH14g/s1600/DSC_0058.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8OcQhXOBgIcA6w_5BA-ZQTJB1TtPYmZqpbZpyXVNPWD70n-e73zneJZuvgYtjqCDhxuX8rUb4qOarNBgeqGJLWMeuU3fnSQo1Hn0wMOAJqoLOFZ4BUT9ztm0K_xVKH7BJwx-S-iH14g/s640/DSC_0058.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spinning challenge.</td></tr>
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This place is peaceful in the way that only a house that is normally filled with family can be. The fridge hums, the dog clicks her way across the kitchen floor and the bird themed kitchen clock hoots like an owl at twelve. There is a strong sense of hiatus, a feeling that the house is just taking a breather and at any moment three boys will rampage through the front door to inhabit the coats and hats that hang empty in the hallway. Their absence is everywhere, from the snooker table folded up and stored behind the sofa to the plastic lizards who keep an eye on the plant pots in the garden. Peaceful with a hint of melancholy, perfect for reading, reflection, and staying up too late watching all the TV channels I don't have at home.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrN0fCKSpXvo8j7ikcf3t9yOX0Lm67_VX_uAAZUynTCfysMTuObwGP7fGPIgwvbgZijvDIfLErQgPAy-yb7Il8eMP1YYHhfnK8-OAxMHeq-qgZwTOTRKdxnYEv550yDRTNBlRZd3CxXpo/s1600/DSC_0004-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrN0fCKSpXvo8j7ikcf3t9yOX0Lm67_VX_uAAZUynTCfysMTuObwGP7fGPIgwvbgZijvDIfLErQgPAy-yb7Il8eMP1YYHhfnK8-OAxMHeq-qgZwTOTRKdxnYEv550yDRTNBlRZd3CxXpo/s640/DSC_0004-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bob - fond of a food grab.</td></tr>
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In other news, I have been spinning, it is the <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/groups/tour-de-fleece">Tour de Fleece</a> and my challenge is to spin enough to make myself a jumper. To this end I have been working through a giant ball of shetland/angora roving. There are socks too, using Mary Jane Mucklestone's <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/200-Fair-Isle-Motifs-Directory/dp/1596684372/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1341567930&sr=8-1">book </a>for inspiration and a ton of scraps that needed a purpose. So far I'm one and a half socks in. If the sun shines I might manage a whole pair. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguRsMQjKO1Bmmp-OzZdP8gqP0rTZCxDUmb-ejr27Q6EhGIJXNJ_4D2Z6J6t6AkB2wtqT6w9tc3IP5A8uQgR-8NilgPikOUwzjW9x952D6fO3rsijolU9GAwNrrEoqSc0xwCWwBpyHrZdU/s1600/DSC_0111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguRsMQjKO1Bmmp-OzZdP8gqP0rTZCxDUmb-ejr27Q6EhGIJXNJ_4D2Z6J6t6AkB2wtqT6w9tc3IP5A8uQgR-8NilgPikOUwzjW9x952D6fO3rsijolU9GAwNrrEoqSc0xwCWwBpyHrZdU/s640/DSC_0111.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Champion darts player Jazz.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimeB0Bmpczpr4yeSyfT72ZOa0lt_ycBo-oh1AJXNRDrxgcKWGtVlNp749MSHNDpx54luXaAnCbFB2UPLyn7r7NFM8GCVWC0HE55PUprc0dOyRsLkaKwcw4USlsT5lUWxRX_iKM2cgk3Ds/s1600/DSC_0013-002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimeB0Bmpczpr4yeSyfT72ZOa0lt_ycBo-oh1AJXNRDrxgcKWGtVlNp749MSHNDpx54luXaAnCbFB2UPLyn7r7NFM8GCVWC0HE55PUprc0dOyRsLkaKwcw4USlsT5lUWxRX_iKM2cgk3Ds/s640/DSC_0013-002.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roving to be spun. I don't think Tess of the D's got her fibre from Colinette.</td></tr>
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This most recent shawl is Whippoowill by <a href="http://carinaspencer.com/shop/whippoorwill/">Carina Spencer</a>. Most of the knitting is very plain and simple but it is livened up by the shaping which is great fun to knit. I loved watching the waves unfurl as I knitted the more complicated rows. The grey yarn is a silk/cashmere mix that I unravelled from a second hand jumper and the red is left over four ply wool. While the silk in the grey yarn gives a tremendous drape, I think the 100% wool is needed for the lacier rows so that the stitches and the pattern stand proud. It turned out beautifully. Even if I never wore the shawl, it would make me happy just lying on the back of a chair.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqigEWJhBOEMePj4ukoG1iOLCm7nFs65m6XLIWrd1oYV34HZdGNLc369lp9okRqRFT3N7XGRANRyqfdWETy1z_lnswHdeS0kNcS2GCrxu5udF5v0LrotS3uEI5TuoDpn1KmlzUKTpzYD8/s1600/DSC_0015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqigEWJhBOEMePj4ukoG1iOLCm7nFs65m6XLIWrd1oYV34HZdGNLc369lp9okRqRFT3N7XGRANRyqfdWETy1z_lnswHdeS0kNcS2GCrxu5udF5v0LrotS3uEI5TuoDpn1KmlzUKTpzYD8/s640/DSC_0015.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blocking - tedious but necessary.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKggz8QKeWUXLD6ea64DZvXjVWhV-Hjszv0-8MO0nTyh34cHxehKOgnYsBHsXf149v_rFcbTcu86-438V0o4r9dAryqnyzJKCFj56WqTHaxwSf2NGABI_SgrGSAOq9CL1_do-Qx2ZhjMk/s1600/DSC_0032-002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKggz8QKeWUXLD6ea64DZvXjVWhV-Hjszv0-8MO0nTyh34cHxehKOgnYsBHsXf149v_rFcbTcu86-438V0o4r9dAryqnyzJKCFj56WqTHaxwSf2NGABI_SgrGSAOq9CL1_do-Qx2ZhjMk/s640/DSC_0032-002.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whippoorwill on the line.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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In other news, we have a blackbird with a deathwish. A week ago there was a flapping and a pounding at the glass door. The beast had caught a fledgeling blackbird and the little one was putting up a good fight. Beast was removed and bird was placed in a box to see how it would fare. Later on, after a visit from a friend who knows about these things, I gave the bird a little bit of <a href="http://www.bachfloweressences.co.uk/categories/Bach-Rescue%C2%AE-Remedy/">Rescue Remedy</a> diluted in water and some catfood from my finger. It was a simple task, all I had to do was touch the little chap's head and his beak would open in readiness. So far so good, he was taken outside, hidden under a bush and we watched him the next day being fed by his mother. That'll teach you to take care around cats I thought. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5hgZH9kb0dnxWktfKdLiw1TQ8Whb8u7GbwRnmfz2brZfouIfH-5YElfmktikNDgAEiuIxCGt_anKjk85iXngLLiNFczxA5eGAstlR7UIkmWTWxslUXE3_FzlDBy_W0H_FbD_zoYF1DU0/s1600/DSC_0010-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5hgZH9kb0dnxWktfKdLiw1TQ8Whb8u7GbwRnmfz2brZfouIfH-5YElfmktikNDgAEiuIxCGt_anKjk85iXngLLiNFczxA5eGAstlR7UIkmWTWxslUXE3_FzlDBy_W0H_FbD_zoYF1DU0/s640/DSC_0010-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Magnus - not for the unwary.</td></tr>
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A few days later while Magnus was slumbering in comfort on his chair, I opened the front door and there he was, the unwary blackbird, sitting on the doorstep right next to the cat flap.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script src="http://www.google-analytics.com/urchin.js" type="text/javascript">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4IDRsUNtiV4Da1XXPX5VTABewgEycbw5WHNoKbLdqFfGVnLnPB189GE_wTpZIbH9lTPMhs4LtG2UQf7yYXdUZ6ECuw_wUZCw7WscmpMB6Wv5bIHWOG346TAPhBMWgTrOwC745ijNQMc/s1600/DSC_0054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
I've been away on family business ( all good stuff ) and that takes a little recovery time. So in the absence of anything sensible to say, here are some pictures of what has been happening while I take things easy.<br />
<br />
More words next time, I promise!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJ1Pk0SpAGytMKmHLIFB51KSLS-X2hkUDTpY82fywarSi0vhw_7sL8LEkKwI72VyyFpjbSXGMmQot-eerw8EHuskDxf1UmRXmxS__uNVYtDQycUet4rXpaF_MwAsKcmALdB1rydvbV8c/s1600/DSC_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJ1Pk0SpAGytMKmHLIFB51KSLS-X2hkUDTpY82fywarSi0vhw_7sL8LEkKwI72VyyFpjbSXGMmQot-eerw8EHuskDxf1UmRXmxS__uNVYtDQycUet4rXpaF_MwAsKcmALdB1rydvbV8c/s640/DSC_0002.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There have been banana muffins.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7DpSLJVsDSfTotriZJIT2nueAJqnSZwoUTn6ob149Bf4MypL6V_urt2sJ5l7dqoDuxuiNNzuQgKodZkvLkOAAXwE50egZ3zTwd8isAXGXc96ZcZB6VXZCP1r4H_uBwl2ic36THVpZDho/s1600/DSC_0011-002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7DpSLJVsDSfTotriZJIT2nueAJqnSZwoUTn6ob149Bf4MypL6V_urt2sJ5l7dqoDuxuiNNzuQgKodZkvLkOAAXwE50egZ3zTwd8isAXGXc96ZcZB6VXZCP1r4H_uBwl2ic36THVpZDho/s640/DSC_0011-002.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lad took it into his head to organise our ever growing collection of technological bits.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sViBwNaOrqB_A8R10wPO7kKkHm_J5kf0BIQ-pwfN9oNtjDq2NOH8jIVbV3MyNI6kskPP13ElUaa4s0IBmz9JCrSoRlD2PA-yh7xBWiEb3gFB7UxTm9ZbyOBURxY4VmRvEyo1sBKgvC4/s1600/DSC_0027-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sViBwNaOrqB_A8R10wPO7kKkHm_J5kf0BIQ-pwfN9oNtjDq2NOH8jIVbV3MyNI6kskPP13ElUaa4s0IBmz9JCrSoRlD2PA-yh7xBWiEb3gFB7UxTm9ZbyOBURxY4VmRvEyo1sBKgvC4/s640/DSC_0027-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The garden grew greener and wilder</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz8168Z8LmXLnAM50MkWUSZm9JHrECf5af_NxLBCEpfRKpZ3X6e_a3l9HShDSFRb7Ru9nVmzV25uo1MqTJptd2PR-Yj-IvJy3pX5-Uy7o4XHJsFcHWgSLpM9mVmxykAGCvLcBWtMYDq48/s1600/DSC_0045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz8168Z8LmXLnAM50MkWUSZm9JHrECf5af_NxLBCEpfRKpZ3X6e_a3l9HShDSFRb7Ru9nVmzV25uo1MqTJptd2PR-Yj-IvJy3pX5-Uy7o4XHJsFcHWgSLpM9mVmxykAGCvLcBWtMYDq48/s640/DSC_0045.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I ate some soup made from all the things we needed to use up in the freezer and in the cupboards.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTxDYdybXi1DYTBRWeMBd2ode3uK4xvJQ58atEsQVrNKxxnMG3GYP62gZDEqxBfBPVAJBrEhihR2yBSBPbItFqXfPh6K20Ueq2reaDbNmTbRF-3m7b3GoxQs2xKqI8e_RHSQwzyJ2L3PI/s1600/DSC_0047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTxDYdybXi1DYTBRWeMBd2ode3uK4xvJQ58atEsQVrNKxxnMG3GYP62gZDEqxBfBPVAJBrEhihR2yBSBPbItFqXfPh6K20Ueq2reaDbNmTbRF-3m7b3GoxQs2xKqI8e_RHSQwzyJ2L3PI/s640/DSC_0047.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Magnus wore a feather and I didn't like to ask where it came from</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4IDRsUNtiV4Da1XXPX5VTABewgEycbw5WHNoKbLdqFfGVnLnPB189GE_wTpZIbH9lTPMhs4LtG2UQf7yYXdUZ6ECuw_wUZCw7WscmpMB6Wv5bIHWOG346TAPhBMWgTrOwC745ijNQMc/s1600/DSC_0054.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4IDRsUNtiV4Da1XXPX5VTABewgEycbw5WHNoKbLdqFfGVnLnPB189GE_wTpZIbH9lTPMhs4LtG2UQf7yYXdUZ6ECuw_wUZCw7WscmpMB6Wv5bIHWOG346TAPhBMWgTrOwC745ijNQMc/s640/DSC_0054.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This happened - I took a picture of an alkanet sprig on long exposure by mistake then auto-exposed it.<br />
Turned out like a watercolour. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2ayAQj4ToEyHWA_PlZobBVy4eD8oOV0f4cbDbEV-uhDVjie5l7Cymrmla9I4vJVUGM44dVf2PgLw7G_x9ikigCqIGbudEDFY34TdirtuPmCegbne9Y_xYmsMTkVERLSTJm-1pDUmeDU/s1600/DSC_0035-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw2ayAQj4ToEyHWA_PlZobBVy4eD8oOV0f4cbDbEV-uhDVjie5l7Cymrmla9I4vJVUGM44dVf2PgLw7G_x9ikigCqIGbudEDFY34TdirtuPmCegbne9Y_xYmsMTkVERLSTJm-1pDUmeDU/s640/DSC_0035-001.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good friends for the garden.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The good weather has been bringing us out into the garden at mealtimes too. When it is warm, I'm less inclined towards a proper dinner and more more likely to fancy cold snacky food. There has been a lot of bread and vegetables, I made some fine hummus with chickpeas and half an avocado, as well as the yellow pepper triumph below. Tasty things for us and treats for the worms. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1tILBaVAbbjJfzCl-D-Zrfle6DQuTUMGEXcCkWyTNbIXcTQdx1lHxLMZsffeop9yPgCEivrfKLLMakdmH4JwOvvd_8Y8ICMTTk_dQric_-04ACKYJ8gZBb7gjZPPCU-RbXrRA0SOMPe4/s1600/DSC_0021-003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1tILBaVAbbjJfzCl-D-Zrfle6DQuTUMGEXcCkWyTNbIXcTQdx1lHxLMZsffeop9yPgCEivrfKLLMakdmH4JwOvvd_8Y8ICMTTk_dQric_-04ACKYJ8gZBb7gjZPPCU-RbXrRA0SOMPe4/s640/DSC_0021-003.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cat is too hot to be bothered trying to steal food.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Some interesting discussion has appeared online about how truthful each blogger's representation of their life is. There appears to be a growing sense that while posting all the positives is a perfectly fine thing to do, it can make other bloggers feel under pressure as if they couldn't possibly compete with how wonderful every one else's lives appear to be. The response can be found <a href="http://www.creaturecomfortsblog.com/home/2012/5/3/things-im-afraid-to-tell-you.html">here</a> - with links to many other blogs. I love the honesty of those taking part and it got me thinking about my photographs and how selective they are. Obviously I want to take the most picturesque images but at the same time it could lead people to think that things Chez Mog are a little more <i>Homes and Gardens</i> than they really are. So, in the interests of honesty and frankly because it makes me laugh, every now and then I'm going to show you the other side of an image that I've chosen for the blog, what lies behind the carefully composed frame.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ZpbF-9ekm2dfaluetpHD3uC2KHSgdgJf0rAjzXaqFLWTOFUlf6BOYc-KzsCwQDyJXTdUeDP1qcjnav1lO8nq0dnia0vfM25H9OPlwvbM2anz9CUQXQ5I7MDRWjeQKmimeh4PGRbUNmE/s1600/DSC_0001-003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ZpbF-9ekm2dfaluetpHD3uC2KHSgdgJf0rAjzXaqFLWTOFUlf6BOYc-KzsCwQDyJXTdUeDP1qcjnav1lO8nq0dnia0vfM25H9OPlwvbM2anz9CUQXQ5I7MDRWjeQKmimeh4PGRbUNmE/s640/DSC_0001-003.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hummus - the pretty picture.</td></tr>
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Today I've chosen the hummus. The proper blog image and the bigger picture. I was sitting in the middle of a washing line full of sheets and clothes, the lad's smelly trainers were airing on what is laughingly referred to as the patio and there are bins and pots all over the place. Now you can see why I crop!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOkmofXUDIWYwUD_T4fWsxEKvizsBG-Ut91oK4hoMytbwiOC8Nwd5tAg2AZoN6quohPKZxN31_ciQeScCUwKgzqpYy1uePQU1zBDIo-s-1hM4f9nvO3rfq3BVmH8sHkZJoZ6M0shN-OCA/s1600/DSC_0011-003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOkmofXUDIWYwUD_T4fWsxEKvizsBG-Ut91oK4hoMytbwiOC8Nwd5tAg2AZoN6quohPKZxN31_ciQeScCUwKgzqpYy1uePQU1zBDIo-s-1hM4f9nvO3rfq3BVmH8sHkZJoZ6M0shN-OCA/s640/DSC_0011-003.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yikes.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jOtoj2CgQyMz9O5WoZlLrczFZ1rveoekyhwL-5sVFQ8b1DvKvmNxGxdonUMvhGmtz3r71uOUWlAPhetmV8K3t0Fm3BDHzhZJAJcDYfJfTZJF8BUPNrXO5f-Xz-0B1kUjjEfSlKSrKQU/s1600/DSC_0017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3QOd4fxmPK5ns3lCnY5mBoaWAEofLuks-7X9tNdMWY2JY3stf4QdMkL_q4Vm-oAc5X-Wj746J0oiYVd-fllRwxrLbV4fDnb4OAwlOfqqfRuuxkimzQtF9gj4GAwC7wRKfXsCpI5M1Zg4/s1600/DSC_0024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3QOd4fxmPK5ns3lCnY5mBoaWAEofLuks-7X9tNdMWY2JY3stf4QdMkL_q4Vm-oAc5X-Wj746J0oiYVd-fllRwxrLbV4fDnb4OAwlOfqqfRuuxkimzQtF9gj4GAwC7wRKfXsCpI5M1Zg4/s640/DSC_0024.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stripe Study in its natural habitat - the study.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<br />
The kitchen is still a work in progress but as we nipped off to London in the middle of the DIY and added new plans to the initial ( simple and fast ) plan, that's only to be expected. Things are looking up though, the flooring has gone. The kitchen had been covered in carpet tiles the texture of pot scourers in a particularly rotten shade of brown. The tiles were there when I moved in about fourteen years ago and I hated them on sight. The hatred was mutual, I swear the only thing keeping these horrors on the floor was spite. Spite and the spills of a million dinners. Whoever thought that carpet in a kitchen was a good idea? Certainly no-one who lives with a cat who likes to drag his food out of the bowl and kill it all over again.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jOtoj2CgQyMz9O5WoZlLrczFZ1rveoekyhwL-5sVFQ8b1DvKvmNxGxdonUMvhGmtz3r71uOUWlAPhetmV8K3t0Fm3BDHzhZJAJcDYfJfTZJF8BUPNrXO5f-Xz-0B1kUjjEfSlKSrKQU/s1600/DSC_0017.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jOtoj2CgQyMz9O5WoZlLrczFZ1rveoekyhwL-5sVFQ8b1DvKvmNxGxdonUMvhGmtz3r71uOUWlAPhetmV8K3t0Fm3BDHzhZJAJcDYfJfTZJF8BUPNrXO5f-Xz-0B1kUjjEfSlKSrKQU/s640/DSC_0017.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With this sense of colour I really should be banned from any decorating choices.</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
So, the removal of the stupidest floor covering in the world is a joy to behold. No more hoovering up the debris of my baking escapades and no more stamping tiles back into position after Magnus' natty little claws have dislodged them in a post-prandial frenzy. At the moment the floor is wearing a few crumpled newspapers and bit of half sawn timber. If I tell you that it is a vast improvement on the tiles, you'll get an idea of how awful they were.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFaEO8FOn-FaWEiJiDEpcfssGYo9hYqxXPC5Z9o0Xf8dJRaJzuon3nxng5n0G5nOPnUituYDxDKCO24Qdzx0UsdeS_RDgECvIVaxgeSaNWYA6Pc3kEZtdUtOoP1gXx7rP2o386zhTwWoE/s1600/DSC_0042.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFaEO8FOn-FaWEiJiDEpcfssGYo9hYqxXPC5Z9o0Xf8dJRaJzuon3nxng5n0G5nOPnUituYDxDKCO24Qdzx0UsdeS_RDgECvIVaxgeSaNWYA6Pc3kEZtdUtOoP1gXx7rP2o386zhTwWoE/s640/DSC_0042.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These worktops will never be so clean again.</td></tr>
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As Dylan Thomas<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uuPO2Kvqlms"> once said:</a> <i>Time passes. Listen. Time passes.</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAkfgZpgSv3Ey5QMOyWG_LxNRDihBB3Hxn_wEMIz-aQ4klbPZgunHCM8CKiOqCJfDRL82UuZSpP-DpKsApjjs8Q5CBZeiU8J5-M5-006D9_QnxUilqjoRSn7st-yV__9PgIZJ8dr3l-uI/s1600/DSC_0033.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAkfgZpgSv3Ey5QMOyWG_LxNRDihBB3Hxn_wEMIz-aQ4klbPZgunHCM8CKiOqCJfDRL82UuZSpP-DpKsApjjs8Q5CBZeiU8J5-M5-006D9_QnxUilqjoRSn7st-yV__9PgIZJ8dr3l-uI/s640/DSC_0033.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some plates and a couple of bannetons.</td></tr>
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Time has indeed passed and it is all over bar the flooring. The cupboard doors have returned to their rightful places and the newly painted shelves are looking spic and span and not a little Scandanavian with the white crockery piled on top. We have been eating our dinners in comfort and drinking our morning coffee in company with the birds who look in on us from from the silver birch in the garden. We're on the first floor and it is a very tall tree.<br />
In all of the excitement I forgot to mention that I've been knitting. Along with many others, I've been hooked by Veera Malimaki's simple but stunning designs and I knitted a <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/stripe-study-shawl">Stripe Study Shawl</a> in between snoozing and being on cup of tea duty in the kitchen. I love it even though some of the yarn ( dated 1941 ) gave off an ominous smell of mothballs after washing. The smell has gone thankfully, and my shawl is gorgeous.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioNkNO3-zdgLE6D477ktR6s0mLd1RAXKZ5IjEagPJ7DsVCn7xaDXdpni9xqZtD7Pce284N17YoPd8-kLCFmrFaN0HbMthLuw_jBK0YOoqSO7-KXDSqSpto__MbLpQZ1W2ZDwbO5tOUeqM/s1600/DSC_0028-001.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioNkNO3-zdgLE6D477ktR6s0mLd1RAXKZ5IjEagPJ7DsVCn7xaDXdpni9xqZtD7Pce284N17YoPd8-kLCFmrFaN0HbMthLuw_jBK0YOoqSO7-KXDSqSpto__MbLpQZ1W2ZDwbO5tOUeqM/s640/DSC_0028-001.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the big tree. I'm very fond of him.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjhSSUhXT-32RBJfnnJPOBdaAN8PTRTqW7K-38ZS2_HAtOkWeyFcqfKav7Mhey68U89nepdClHO3BU-tCK61aWsZ0IXsQybJQw80NT_VUfv9aJ7WiCMqFgSbPOglx23kWa-0LLBTeHgts/s1600/DSC_0072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjhSSUhXT-32RBJfnnJPOBdaAN8PTRTqW7K-38ZS2_HAtOkWeyFcqfKav7Mhey68U89nepdClHO3BU-tCK61aWsZ0IXsQybJQw80NT_VUfv9aJ7WiCMqFgSbPOglx23kWa-0LLBTeHgts/s640/DSC_0072.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A small sample of chaos. </td></tr>
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<br />
It is chaos in Mog Towers. The lad is painting the kitchen a lovely shade of olive green and everything that is usually in the kitchen has been stuffed in carefully selected leftover spaces in the living room. The overflow from the living room has flown into the study and the CDs in the study that should be in the attic are leaning in an ominous fashion towards the floor in the hall. Food production has been halted except for the provision of pizza and breakfast cereal and the dirty dishes are currently in a basin on the living room floor being sniffed at by <i>you know who</i>. There is a cheese grater in the basin so I'm hoping that <i>you know who</i> doesn't get too carried away with his sniffs. We don't have time to go to the vet for nose reconstruction.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nose. So far unharmed by cheesegrater.</td></tr>
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I'm lurching between two emotions, three if you include the guilt induced by being too feeble to help out. I'm incredibly grateful to live with a chap who volunteers to paint things but at the same time I'm overwhelmed by all the disruption and have a sneaky temptation to run away and not come home till it is all over and the paint tins are stored upside down ( creates a seal and keeps the paint fresh ) in the shed. As it is, I'll stay on the sofa, knit a sock and make cups of tea on demand. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The gift of tadpoles.</td></tr>
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In other news - I performed a daring feat of lifesaving. For once the cat versus woodmouse tale had a happy ending. Cat was unimpressed, mouse was released unharmed in the woods. We also received a pot of tadpoles last week from a chum. There are only boy frogs in our pond and every year they sing hopefully with no joyous reply. With any luck this new batch will turn out to be girls who can swell the throng..<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglpsNvqWJ7ydpFs2iMW45hiUy_aMshA3lC5c3ZGTf_1Bnulcju7rucPJYBSveZSCYtwAvUX9vxSvKWf4KfOwGRCSETHZ-zxyadnhttB-YnjaLIAma8URfcuSHpV5s-8ZyWepRSL6FeuK4/s1600/DSC_0017.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglpsNvqWJ7ydpFs2iMW45hiUy_aMshA3lC5c3ZGTf_1Bnulcju7rucPJYBSveZSCYtwAvUX9vxSvKWf4KfOwGRCSETHZ-zxyadnhttB-YnjaLIAma8URfcuSHpV5s-8ZyWepRSL6FeuK4/s640/DSC_0017.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saved, put in a jar and forced to read George Orwell.</td></tr>
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It has been the weirdest spring. Last Wednesday I was wearing shorts and wondering about suncream, today I am resplendent in long-johns and a jumper. There were record breaking temperatures in Scotland a week ago, now the cat and I are watching the snow plough ( or in our case, a wee tractor with a ploughing bit stuck on the front ) clear the road outside. If it wasn't a day or two late I'd think that the weather was playing an April Fool. No such luck, it might be the Easter holidays but I can hear the scrape of sledges as the children drag them to the park for an afternoon's chilly fun.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrFQRVXmkBpFaxMLsK54zV6THymR7vK5-wG0jBpcfFWHOc_LfYV3w3eq04n4FnyU42kel_p2clE2Xc7RyoPuSVek21d8PKi4kHBB664QDufGWTxGemz1FUJeH6Q-egb_PLQkGa0aj-aCQ/s1600/DSC_0005.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrFQRVXmkBpFaxMLsK54zV6THymR7vK5-wG0jBpcfFWHOc_LfYV3w3eq04n4FnyU42kel_p2clE2Xc7RyoPuSVek21d8PKi4kHBB664QDufGWTxGemz1FUJeH6Q-egb_PLQkGa0aj-aCQ/s640/DSC_0005.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tulips - didn't stand a chance.</td></tr>
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The air is bitter and the snow has knocked seven bells out of my early tulips. I'm thankful that we have central heating and soup and supplies of birdfood, not to mention the swanky new Starling box that we put up to cover the hole in the house near the roof that the birds have been using as home for the last few years. Even if they don't yet have enough twigs organised for a nest at least they can shelter from the whatever the weather decides to throw at them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBprfnpADqCAmcpdw85R0sUxals8qJ7nNzVoceIGGscR7Vu-RCAa-uzY2_CgPd8YguHgPWYAnseHJc6jqx8G7bkAemgLLTAjXhCk_Vr_gPKDjCwWJlcQdVsISvwvZdD4WvuPgmDa8VxM/s1600/DSC_0008.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBprfnpADqCAmcpdw85R0sUxals8qJ7nNzVoceIGGscR7Vu-RCAa-uzY2_CgPd8YguHgPWYAnseHJc6jqx8G7bkAemgLLTAjXhCk_Vr_gPKDjCwWJlcQdVsISvwvZdD4WvuPgmDa8VxM/s640/DSC_0008.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hellebores after the snow.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hellebores in the sunshine, little knowing what would happen next.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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Luckily the jumper I was knitting in the sunshine was finished in time for the snows. Mostly handspun, most of that being Blue Faced Leicester from my learn to spin aran weight experiments. The other skein ( the cool grey ) is Artisano Aran that was hanging around aimlessly and just happened to go with my colour scheme a whole lot better than the handspun Shetland that I'd planned to use. The Shetland is too crisp and too glaringly white for this project, I suspect it will turn into a cowl later on. After knitting laceweight for the last wee while, the aran yarn knitted up at the speed of light. The pattern is Vogue's <a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/relaxed-pullover">Relaxed Pullover</a> but I changed the neckline by picking up and knitting a 2x2 rib. I love it and Magnus appears to approve as well. Claws off, fur face!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1r3NfqlacVUU9S1kh69vtk-CvL64HYc7LyZPKkO5ejW7mk71GrDf-cUvB_iYAM-2_7ceb9x20BPXlDu0ewART3vbhUAyabh8zYS3vbpx6FwtYSPHNE7T8aC-3tyC4r0M3BOeON6JtKGU/s1600/DSC_0299.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1r3NfqlacVUU9S1kh69vtk-CvL64HYc7LyZPKkO5ejW7mk71GrDf-cUvB_iYAM-2_7ceb9x20BPXlDu0ewART3vbhUAyabh8zYS3vbpx6FwtYSPHNE7T8aC-3tyC4r0M3BOeON6JtKGU/s640/DSC_0299.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dangerous pursuits.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrFQRVXmkBpFaxMLsK54zV6THymR7vK5-wG0jBpcfFWHOc_LfYV3w3eq04n4FnyU42kel_p2clE2Xc7RyoPuSVek21d8PKi4kHBB664QDufGWTxGemz1FUJeH6Q-egb_PLQkGa0aj-aCQ/s1600/DSC_0005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDS5wzGS9mlJWc1rUk30wEGO4_DveNj8Vc8oSq5FYlPwcOEBDAO5gGYkijvYTDGCC4l-xPb9eonAyFgku3oLisAk0DJY_DMf4woKu9Yqw3zmD4z9YMT0_9_gko40WOILF10VROgF4eyRs/s1600/DSC_0233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDS5wzGS9mlJWc1rUk30wEGO4_DveNj8Vc8oSq5FYlPwcOEBDAO5gGYkijvYTDGCC4l-xPb9eonAyFgku3oLisAk0DJY_DMf4woKu9Yqw3zmD4z9YMT0_9_gko40WOILF10VROgF4eyRs/s640/DSC_0233.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bubbly under the lights at the Hippodrome</td></tr>
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I have these great expectations that I'll write a blog post every week but the days seem to speed away from me. Here I am again wincing at the date of the last post written and resolving to buck up my ideas. Much as I love routine, it is also something that I find difficult to stick to. There is an unseasonable heatwave hitting our coast making it very hard to stay inside when I could be sitting in the sun with the cat and the knitting. Not to worry, better to be late than not at all.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlRvzVT7BtW51c5nMLdDARSQ0-ePaWIl3hTArQ1_RrdSkTEbgRiVoJkb_5rr3KGwAFmewqRjL15Xu27evBKXmvzLkMKL-SIYtBhnr-v3M8UJKJ0ynXJNvuQcpSd80ElCHO0ylKU3NqSKw/s1600/DSC_0256.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlRvzVT7BtW51c5nMLdDARSQ0-ePaWIl3hTArQ1_RrdSkTEbgRiVoJkb_5rr3KGwAFmewqRjL15Xu27evBKXmvzLkMKL-SIYtBhnr-v3M8UJKJ0ynXJNvuQcpSd80ElCHO0ylKU3NqSKw/s640/DSC_0256.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful curves.</td></tr>
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I spent a weekend recently, at the <a href="http://www.falkirkcommunitytrust.org/venues/hippodrome/silent-cinema/">Hippodrome Festival of Silent Film</a> in Bo'ness. The Hippodrome is Scotland's oldest purpose built cinema and was restored a few years ago. It is a small gem of a place, all curves and plush reds. The only way to tell that the seats are not the originals is the lack of ashtrays on the back. When this cinema ( and film itself ) was a youngster, everything on and off screen was wrapped in a blue haze of cigarette smoke. These days the smokers stand outside in the cold but you can guarantee a very warm welcome inside. We watched everything from extravagantly camp swash buckling from Douglas Fairbanks to early Stan Laurel and a revelation ( to me ) of the genius of Charley Chase. The<a href="http://ssa.nls.uk/"> Scottish Screen Archive </a>showed some of their films of Scottish life which, like the wonderful Japanese film, <i>I Was Born, But</i> proved that time and distance are no match for our common experiences. Although the films were silent they were far from quiet. They were all accompanied by musicians, some of whom had written new scores and in one case we also had the talents of a film explainer who added a whole new dimension to what we were watching. Great fun and a wonderful community feeling, the local shops had special window displays and I could swear that in one cafe Charlie Chaplin was doing the cooking!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiRFfSy1y7g4e_pNUD8GnguMJa6x1bxKdIRWw6DJ0orxTaLeaHzSqtR7woZDxXHjjo0iIYZ3pWXpJ8ZpKRzOjS_s8uShBZDPucEuZ2rp785xde6yzwjBy9wNUswTfTUQx1BVvwdn0CutI/s1600/DSC_0448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiRFfSy1y7g4e_pNUD8GnguMJa6x1bxKdIRWw6DJ0orxTaLeaHzSqtR7woZDxXHjjo0iIYZ3pWXpJ8ZpKRzOjS_s8uShBZDPucEuZ2rp785xde6yzwjBy9wNUswTfTUQx1BVvwdn0CutI/s640/DSC_0448.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the Ivy cafe</td></tr>
</tbody></table> And now a heat wave, how strange to be putting on suncream in March. The garden is shimmering with light and the bees and butterflies are beginning to show themselves. In a moment of terrible timing I decided to knit an aran jumper after finishing a lovely fiddly lace scarf last week. My knitting bag is filled with thick heavy handspun and size five needles. Even if it wasn't too hot to knit the damn thing it would certainly be too hot to wear it when I'm finished. The good news? There is snow forecast for the hills this weekend!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOCdTU6lr8bmjCK_LQIRwdnMvo80jbZRCdZy7XlK5nxQonFGhfFTfs4ynppDfKGyd5RYElZ-e34YfeQo0ktBphQyk9DrTjBGRV2aH1UGxEFMly6nyaHdTo_dbrtFmhIvf3vlNR_uu33Nc/s1600/DSC_0355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOCdTU6lr8bmjCK_LQIRwdnMvo80jbZRCdZy7XlK5nxQonFGhfFTfs4ynppDfKGyd5RYElZ-e34YfeQo0ktBphQyk9DrTjBGRV2aH1UGxEFMly6nyaHdTo_dbrtFmhIvf3vlNR_uu33Nc/s640/DSC_0355.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Too hot for Aran!</td></tr>
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