On reflection

On Saturday afternoon, with jubilant cries of "Oh, bother the clutch", C. and I went out and spent my proofreading money on a digital SLR. On Sunday late afternoon we put on our wellies and some thick socks* and set off down the Thames at Clifton Hampden to try it out on the winter landscape it being a fabulously sunny day, though freezing cold. Much fun was had focusing on different things and playing with reflections in the river which was like a mirror.




A fair amount of fun was also had sinking into deep mud and struggling to get out again without losing a welly, dropping the camera, or falling over. Inevitably we both came away convinced that we now need to save up for the very expensive zoom lens which would have enabled us to photograph the carpet of snowdrops on the other bank. The clutch may have to wait a little longer.



In between playing with the camera I found time to go to Masons where I picked up some quilting fabric to send to a friend (I don't know whether she reads this, but in case she does I won't post pictures until after it's arrived), and some for myself which I couldn't resist, even though I don't quilt, have never quilted, suspect I never will take it up, and have promised on numerous occasions to stop hoarding likely-looking bits of fabric. But it's so pretty...


Sadly I suspect it's destined to languish in my stash for some considerable time, since I don't seem to be able to find time for my more usual knitting and crochet projects at the moment, never mind taking up an entirely new craft.

The "Grey Tank Top" is currently suffering an identity crisis since I discovered that a single ball was enough to knit 25cms up from the hem, i.e. nearly to the split for the arms. I have four and a half balls, so this means that I ought to have enough yarn to turn it into a smallish jumper, which may well be a better use of my time and would certainly be a more effective stash bust. Unfortunately however, even after blocking, the knitted section (which was originally intended to be a fairly fitted vest and has waist shaping) is a trifle too snug for my liking if transmogrified into a jumper, so I fear frogging and reknitting is the only way forward.

I haven't yet summoned up the energy to do this and have instead been concentrating on the crochet front, where, having thrown out the star-shaped doily and promised to do better next time, I have been working on the Swan Symphony Doily as a present for my auntie (who likes this sort of thing).

With the exception of the swans themselves the pattern is actually pretty straightforward, and it is progressing fairly speedily, at least now that I've managed to get the damn beaks on. That was a real fiddle. Unfortunately three of my four swans are less well behaved than the one pictured here and seem to have an irresistible urge to look over their shoulders. I am hoping this can be corrected with blocking, because otherwise I fear the effect may rather be lost. One of them in particular looks more like a strangulated flamingo at the moment. I guess I could always dye it pink...


*Or rather I put on some thick socks. C. discovered that all the (six) socks he had put in the boot of the car were in fact mine and probably wouldn't have fitted on his hands, let alone his feet, so he just had cold feet.