25 April: Felt, hat, and a star

I made the second piece of felt. Then I couldn't decide what colour to dye it. A couple of things I've made recently have had dye problems - aaargh! The orange and purple socks lost dye when they were washed, and the red/pink dye ran on a hat in white and raspberry Shetland wool, to the same pattern as this one, also in Shetland wool -

It's slightly adapted from the one in Elaine Eskesen's book Dyeing to Knit. Not quite a tam, and very easy to knit.

I cast on a scarf and knitted nearly a foot before I frogged it; decided it wasn't drapey enough.

Then today I decided that I would dye the felt green, and got the dye stuff out. There was a lovely sage green in the box, but I thought it should be a bit darker, so in went a bit of charcoal. (You'll notice the accuracy with which these chemicals are measured - in "bits") That was a little too dark, but there was no more sage left. Try a touch of jade, which is a ferociously strong and lurid shade. That looked good in the pan on the stove, so in went the felt and on went the gas.

Then I settled down to read my current book - The Ode Less Travelled, by Stephen Fry (I just couldn't pass by a book with a title like that, now could I?). Meanwhile the felt simmered away, and when I looked at it after half an hour or so, most of the dye had been absorbed, so in went a bit of vinegar to encourage it to soak up the rest, and a few minutes later it was Done. A quick spin in the washing machine, and now it's drying. Next the process of cutting and sewing - and perhaps a bit of embroidery.

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I have always known that DH is a Top Class, All Round Good Egg, excellent at his job; now it seems that his line manager has discovered this, and deemed him to be Outstanding.

Am I too cynical, or do I suspect that this is a pre-cursor to his being expected to do even more of the difficult work, with more responsibility and stress but without any extra recognition?

3 April: Congratulations and comments

Congratulations to the British team, particularly Victoria Pendleton and Chris Hoy, on their wonderful performances at the World Track Cycling Championships! Heroes, every one.
(Google for full information, if you don't know.)

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Blog-visitors and their comments seem to have been a recent theme on several blogs. Naturally this leads to musings on one's own blog, its visitors, and what everyone wants from a blog.

My StatCounter tells me how many people have come to The String Bag, and what their search (if any) has been for. It tells me where they are, more or less, and also purports to show how long they spend here.

So I know there are a number of visitors from the UK and the US, and one regular from New Zealand, and one I think of as my Spanish stalker*. And the last few days have brought another flurry of visitors, this time from Denmark, looking for information on Fred Knit*le - they must have had the Young@H*art film screened on their TV.

Most of these people don't leave any comment, though there seems no way of connecting the StatCounter information to a specific commenter. There may be nothing in particular they want to say, of course. They may be copying my knitted hats, or avidly following the progress of my garden. They may enjoy the photos of places I've been to, or agree with my occasional rants. Imagining is usually more fun than knowing (think of Christmas presents).

What sort of comment to leave on someone's blog? There's the "me, too", which doesn't take anything further on, though it can be reassuring to have sympathy or whatever. There's the "aren't you wonderful", which gives a short glow, followed by embarrassment. There's a sensible question, or an answer to a question - practical and helpful. And there's the amusing comment, the sideways look at a topic, the pun, the joke between friends.

And that's really how I see the blog, as a sort of conversation in the cyber-pub. You drop in, listen to a few people, have a brief chat with one or two, find out how they are and what's happening with them, you amuse each other, and enjoy the different characters. Sometimes you pop into the cyber-pub down the super-highway, and enjoy a different crowd; you may join in the conversation or not. You may even become a regular.

So, let's go and see who's in the bar today.

*No, I know you aren't really stalking, it's the alliteration....