31 July: At last the striped cardigan

All assembled, edges finished, buttons and button-loops done, and blocked. And, of course, it's far too hot to need to wear it for weeks and weeks. It's all Blue Faced Leicester, hand spun and the colours other than natural, fawn and brown hand dyed. The design was worked out as it went along.

And in the meanwhile, I knitted these mittens, using the Fair Isle method of doing the thumb, which I've never tried before. For some reason the photo looks a bit too yellow - the fawn BF Leicester is the same as in the cardigan. They are a bit long from the cuff to the thumb, but I was adapting a pattern for a different thickness of wool, and that's how it sometimes goes! DH says they look like fishes.


The current knitting is a version of a double-sided hat that was in Spin Off magazine, Fall 2005 issue, using some odd coloured wools from a parcel of fibre I was given. Watch this space....

29 July: So far, so good

After a long morning's work at the computer, the first draft of the family history is done. At the moment all that has been covered is direct ancestors, going back as far as the middle of the 18th century in some lines, and from Sussex, Hampshire, Gloucestershire, London, Oxfordshire, Argyllshire, Derry, Donegal, Cheshire, Staffordshire, Worcestershire, Shropshire, and other stopping places.

Now it needs some more illustrations, maps and photos if there are any, and then perhaps on to another section, dealing with the wider families.

And of course, straight away, I've found some more information online about two of the Chester families, and that will mean some amendment, but I guess that will always be the case, at least until I decide it has gone far enough.

Strangely, the part of the family I know least about is my father's more immediate family; he was never very close to them and there was not much said about them when I was small, and by the time I got interested in the family history, he was dead, and although there are lots of photos, naturally they are not labelled except with notes like "Jessie's husband" , or "Aunt Edie", or "Canvey 1927".

When I was a child, occasionally we went to visit Dad's sisters, who both lived 40 or so miles away, but in the 1950s that was quite a journey. Grandma lived near one of the aunts, and she was a bit frightening, being small, sharp and leathery, with a cigarette always lit. The cigarette made a yellowish streak in her otherwise white hair, and her Yorkshire pud was reputed to be enhanced by the fag ash that dropped into it as she whisked it up!

I have now discovered that, as well as being a committed Socialist and Labour party worker all her life, during WW1 she belonged to the Women's Volunteer Reserve, which seems to have been a bit of a feminist outfit. I wish I had known her better.

----------------------------------------------------------

Back in the present, we've had a small shower of rain - nothing like the downpour which was forecast, but hey, the forecast has been wrong before!

And the ice cream van has been mostly playing "I'm forever blowing bubbles".

25 July: The beginning of the end

The end of summer seems to be approaching fast in the garden and the fields, even if not on the calendar.

The buddleia has been out for long enough to need dead-heading, the raspberries are not as plentiful as last week, and there's a combine harvester trundling up and down the field behind our estate.

The schools have just broken up for the summer holidays - this means lots of families have gone away, leaving the burglar alarms set and malfunctioning, and the ice cream van can be heard all day playing "The sun has got his hat on".

And the surest sign of all - a fortnight ago I noticed the first banner in a shop - "Back to School".

Am I jaded and cynical, or what?

19 July: Mad dogs and Englishmen

The hot weather has been surprisingly difficult; there was a time, not so long ago, when I never felt too hot, and often not warm enough. (Once I came out in goose pimples in Majorca in high summer, because the temperature dropped below 70 F.) It's probably my age.

At work, I've spent as much time as possible in the air-conditioned areas; and at home simply stayed indoors until it's cooler in the evenings, when the raspberries have been picked, and the plants in pots watered.

It's been a good year for pollen beetles and raspberry beetles, the roses, clematis and day lilies; a bad year for the acanthus, verbascums, and achilleas. So far, all our young trees look OK; on our trip to Cambridge last weekend it was quite noticeable how many trees were suffering from the heat, with brown and withering leaves - as we went south, there were more and more.

As usual, as soon as the sun shines, there have been regrettable displays of acres of flesh one would rather not have to view, much of it rather over-barbecued.

Good heavens - I sounded just like my mother then! So, on second thoughts, let it all hang out, get burnt, and parade it down the street at midday. Where did I leave my lycra shorts?

16 July: To foreign parts

Away for a weekend near Cambridge, to visit family we haven't seen for a while.
On the journey down the A1, we came up to the back end of a traffic jam south of Grantham. With no idea how long the tail-back was, or what was causing it, we followed out habit of taking the next turning off the main road, and navigating our way back further along the road. (Me being able to read a map and all that.)
And, as so often happens, we had an absolutely charming trip through a bit of the country we've never seen before, knew nothing at all about, and really enjoyed the detour. Our revised route took us through Stamford, which neither of us has ever been near before, and it looked so interesting we may well go back there some time to have a good look round.

It was necessary to go into Cambridge on Saturday for some essentials, so we had lunch there in a very nice vegetarian restaurant.
There were a million or two tourists milling about.

We, of course, weren't actual tourists, as the children diverted our attention from the sights by employing the crafty strategy of needing the loo fairly frequently. At least we now know several handy loos in the town!
The journey home was incredibly hot (or could it be my age?), and then the raspberries needed picking and the seedlings needed watering before we could catch up on the weekend's happenings in Le Tour.

14 July: Busy, busy

All yesterday morning with a carpet shampooer trying to eradicate the marks where my husband's cat had been sick on the carpet. (It's fine if you find it soon afterwards and clear it up, but when it's been there all night....)

Then planting out some seedlings into the rock-hard, dry-clay soil at the bottom of the garden. There's a blister on my palm from the trowel handle.

And most of the evening (after Le Tour on TV) sorting out some more family history information from the 1891 census. Enough new leads there to start me off again, and I thought I'd done just about all I could until I can get to some County Record Offices for parish records.

12 July: a quiet life

Firstly, if anyone is trying to send an e-mail with a new e-address, remember we have a highly effective spam filter - phone or post with details!
--------------------------------------------
Picking the raspberries is keeping me busy. It seems to have been unfavourable for the growth of the canes this year, and the poor spindly things are bending right over with the weight of the fruit. it makes picking them more difficult. At least the birds are finding it just as hard.
--------------------------------------------
A neighbour's cat has discovered our bird-feeding arrangements, and a couple of times we've spotted a sturdy black furry tail sticking out of a large hellebore by the bird feeder, and shooed him away. He's a handsome cat, but he gets fed at home, so he doesn't need the birds.
--------------------------------------------
With cooler evenings, and Le Tour on TV, I've been making progress with my striped cardigan, and finished the sewing up and the edgings. There's still the buttons to sew on, and button loops to make, and tidying and blocking. It's turned out heavier than I expected, but as I made it up as I went along, that's not really surprising. Anyway, if you need a woollen cardigan, you usually need a warm one.

5 July: Bits and pieces

A number of things to mention, as it's been a few days since the last posting.

First there has been the sad task of disposing of the last remaining house martin chick's body. When we came home yesterday, we found the remains of the entire nest, including a tiny live chick, lying in the drive - it had fallen off the wall.
Following RSPB instructions, we fashioned a substitute nest from a plastic box, and fastened it by the bathroom window, which was as near as we could get it to the original site above the window. The idea was that the chick's cries would attract the parents to the box, and they would continue to feed the chick.
The parent birds returned many times to the place the nest had been, but completely ignored the nearby box containing their chick - it was probably too weak to call by then anyway.
-----------------------------------------------------
On a more cheerful note, the raspberries are getting ripe enough to pick - if I can beat the sparrows and blackbirds to them!
-----------------------------------------------------
There has been some publicity lately about a woman who had a stroke, and now allegedly sounds more like a Jamaican than the Geordie she really is (she sounds just like a Geordie to me). This has been described as "Foreign Accent Syndrome", which is surely an invention of an imaginative journalist.
But those of you who know me will appreciate that this Syndrome has haunted me for the past 25 years, ever since I moved to the North-East.
-----------------------------------------------------
And a couple of pictures - from a visit this week to Wallington House in Northumberland . Resisting the gardens, which are one of the great attractions there, I turned my camera on the famous gargoyle heads on the front lawn.

Here they are all in a row, and below is a close up. Wonder what they look like by moonlight?


P.S. "I told you so in May" - well July actually: my notice of retirement has gone to my line manager.

July 2: Wool and wheels

Yesterday we went to the Woolfest at Cockermouth. Photos are only from the livestock section - the sales and demonstration areas were too packed with people to be able to photograph - anyway I was too busy with a bit of retail frenzy.

The sheep above is either Hebridean or Shetland, and the ones below are Wensleydale; they have wool like mohair.


And this one below is a Teeswater.


I bought kilos of fibre ready-prepared for spinning - Shetland, Blue Faced Leicester, and Merino, which I've never tried spinning but was on sale in such sensational colours I just HAD to have some. Also a high speed whorl for my Majacraft Little Gem wheel, for fine spinning, and a tensioned Lazy Kate, which will perhaps make plying less prone to tangles.

And we still managed to be home in time to catch part of Le Tour prologue. Pity Jan Ullrich isn't in it this year - he looks much fitter than the past few years, and Ivan Basso's absence will make a difference too.

So for the next 3 weeks (apart from rest days - Mondays), we will be glued to the TV every evening.

June 30: Better?

E-mail now working again. Think I've found a grey hair!

E-mail problem

Our e-mail has gone haywire. If you need to contact us, please use the phone.

29 June: Sunshine

It was nice enough to sit in the garden this afternoon, in shorts. The roses are looking good, and so is the clematis. Lots of foxgloves have seeded themselves in the borders, and the raspberries are growing larger, but not yet turning red. This year we have had some rhubarb off our single plant; it was planted 3 years ago, and we thought it had died, as nothing came up the first year - then last year a couple of leaves appeared, and this year there have been enough sticks for us to pull a few off once or twice.

June 28: Work

Yesterday my work shoes fell apart. They were old, well worn, and very comfortable. Today I discovered that June is not the best time to find suitable shoes to wear for work - unless hideously uncomfortable strappy sandals are what you want.
As a vegetarian, I prefer to have non-leather shoes if I can, but if they have to be leather, then they have to last as long as possible. What I really fancied was a pair of pink and black check sneakers, but settled for a pair of black DMs; sandal sort of thing, but dead comfy. They will last me well past the end of my employed life, and will be OK to wear away from work.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Also yesterday DH chalked up 40 years service with his government department. Nobody noticed. Today I challenged him to get into conversation either "40 years service" or "40 years, man and boy" - and I'm pleased to say he managed to do so.
When he started there, it was a good career, and those who reached the grade he is at now were very well regarded, and well paid. Now he finds his years of specialist knowledge and expertise earn him just about an average wage, and has to cope with the constant major upheavals and job insecurity, plus of course hostility from the public, that are the main features of public service. When he is scrapped (perhaps next year, as his office is radically down-sizing) his work will probably be done by a temp hired from an employment agency.

June 27: Tragedy

Just got home from work, and found a tiny dead chick on the drive.It must be from the house martins' nest above the porch. I buried it in the border, then looked carefully at the nest. There is enough mess on the porch roof to indicate that the eggs have hatched, but there are 2 more tiny bodies on the porch roof! I'll have to get the steps out later and remove them.
What's gone wrong? It's been chilly the last few days, and it's rained, but for 3 chicks to die is awful.

June 25: The World Cup

As it's rained from dawn to now, and been rather chilly with it, we've had in indoors sort of day.

DH has been listening to some jazz, and watching an animated film (probably Japanese), and I have been hunched over a hot keyboard, doing some "armchair" family history research for a computer-less friend.

It's been really fun, following the clues he gave me, and using fairly limited resources, and coming up with a sketch of a family tree over 4 or 5 generations. Of course, I can't be sure it's all right, as I haven't been looking at primary source documents, but in the light of my previous experiences with this sort of research, it looks pretty plausible. I've parcelled up the pile of print-outs (needed a bulldog clip rather than a paper clip!), and crammed it all into an envelope for posting off.

Then to counter-act all that keyboarding, thinking, and peering at the screen, I've sat and spun half a bobbin of superwash fibre. I don't know if it will be machine washable when it's knitted up, but it doesn't half smell funny when it's wet!

And in another world, the football has continued without us.

June 22: Midsummer

The calendar says summer, but the thermometer doesn't! It was chilly enough for the central heating to come on this morning. So to pretend it's lovely and sunny, here are some colourful pictures from the garden earlier this week. The primulas above are seedlings from the original yellow one in the background - I was hoping it would cross with some of the others in that border, and it has obliged.

The rose on the pergola is now competing with 2 clematis - a large blue flowered one called Lord Nevill, and a small dark one called Etoile Violette. Both look good with the creamy white roses. Along the side of the path that goes under the pergola is a row of lavender -


The ordinary lavender just died, but this has done very well, and the smell and colour are wonderful!

When the Chelsea Flower Show was on, and there were endless TV programmes about it, one of the plants that seemed popular this year was astrantia. It's a plant I've only had for 2 or 3 years, and it seems to be thriving without any problem - just what's wanted in a good garden plant.

June 20: Weaving and Packaging

This piece of weaving was not quite finished when we went on holiday, but now it's finished, fulled, and ready for use.

Perhaps the next thing to make on the weaving frame will be a shawl, using some nice soft hand-dyed and hand-spun yarn.

--------------------------------------------------------

Regarding the NFWI's protest today about packaging - our local council won't recycle plastic, and they don't collect cardboard. Our solution to the cardboard, including much supermarket packaging, is to put it all into a box in the conservatory ("conservation" being an appropriate use for a conservatory), and when it's full, take it to the local tip and hoy it in the skip marked "cardboard". Any plastic carrier bags are saved and returned to the collecting box at Tesco's. Back in the 1990s I made a number of patchwork bags, which hang in the broom cupboard and come out every week for the supermarket trip. If we are going to the town centre shops, I take one of the patchwork bags, and try to refuse shop carrier bags.
There isn't a farm shop nearby - is it greener to buy at the supermarket, or drive many extra miles (taking lots of extra time too), and still have to go to the supermarket for the other stuff?

Rhodes

Even though it was early in the season, it was still impossible to take photographs at tourist sites without including strangers. This is the acropolis above Rhodes town - there is a well-preserved stadium just below it, where one elderly Greek was jogging gently round, and another was stripped to his underpants, soaking up the sun. We left before he could take them off, too.


Not so many tourists here - it's the Archaeological museum. Had we been extra smart, we would have visited on Monday, as it was a Bank Holiday (as we discovered when we needed to change some money), and the museums were open but not charging for entry. We found that out when we went to the Grand Master's Palace.

There were few flowers about in the town, but they were very brilliantly coloured. The arches across the lanes are supposed to hold the buildings up in the event of an earthquake - would you like to rely on that?


And this is a typical lane in Rhodes Old town - cobbles, a scooter parked at the end, and a cat.

There were hundreds of cats, some well looked after, most not. One morning as we sat in a cafe with lemonade and baklavas, we watched a cat creep up on a parked scooter with a basket of shopping on the front. He reached up to the bag, but couldn't fish out whatever he was after, so he got up on the seat, then onto the handlebars, and reached his paw down into the basket. Unfortunately, he was spotted by a passer-by who tried to take a photo of him, and as he clearly didn't want to be caught (on camera or otherwise), he retreated under a nearby car.

June 16: Home again

From Mediterranean sunshine, it was a bit of a shock to arrive at a foggy 8 degree Newcastle airport at 5 a.m. yesterday.

Plan C ended up as a week in Rhodes, about which we knew absolutely nothing till we got there. We had a most enjoyable week, chilling "right to de bone", and doing what we do so well, i.e. pottering about. There was all the old town to explore, harbours, ruins, beaches, hundreds of eating places, all within easy strolling distance. There were even Greek dishes on the menu at many places. By luck rather than judgement, we stayed in an area sheltered from the wind off the Aegean Sea.

We took a couple of trips out, one to Lindos, which was a bit of a misunderstanding; and one a jeep safari (inevitably called "Off Rhodes"), which was very good, in spite of the obligatory stops at the businesses of several mates for them to try and sell us souma, honey, and wine.

The TV over there was interesting - the World Cup, of course, but not exclusively from the English point of view (where we stayed had a large proportion of German, Dutch and Italian guests); the only English speaking channel we found was CNN, but the soaps, sit-coms and "Who wants to be a Millionaire" (German version) were all instantly recognisable, even to us poor monolinguists.

Back home, some of the washing mountain has been tackled, and all our 174 photos have been downloaded, printed out and neatly labelled before we forget where they were all taken. If I can find the energy, I might even put a few up on the blog!

And after the vivid colours of the extravagant flowers of Rhodes, it was a delight to find all the roses in full bloom, plus the blue clematis, the oriental poppy, alliums, dianthus and foxgloves.

7 June: Holiday!

Just a couple of flowers to keep you all going for a week or so, while we are away in sunnier climes. Actually it would be hard to be sunnier than it has been here for the last couple of days, but it's our fortnight off work, and we need a change. Plans A and B fell through, so a hastily arranged Plan C kicks off this afternoon.

The rose above is Old Blush, now fully out. Below is one of the first flowers on Mme. Alfred Carriere, who scrambles all over the pergola in unrestrained fashion - this flower is, of course, high up, and had to be photographed at arm's length, guessing where to point! Pity the sunshine wasn't on it. More when we get back. Now, where's the sun cream....