Skeinspotting

Holiday..................

We went on a little break, primarily to see my father who is very ill with cancer and having some heavy treatment on and off. It was good to get a chance to see him, although we did only see him 3 times over the whole week (he needs days off from seeing anyone I think). We stayed in a lovely little cottage with a kitchen downstairs, and a living room upstairs. Despite being on the side of the owners house, we had a very quiet time and were not disturbed much at all.



It was sad to see him looking unwell and not that mobile. The saddest thing, is that he is still clinging to his way of thinking that often alienates people, and I am trying to guide him towards being a little less grumpy, but it doesn't always work. I want him to realise that with little time left, he need not worry about such little things (including money) and he could be enjoying his time, but he is limiting his world. He has made it not at all easy to go and see him, or organise any kind of family re-union and it is all sad and difficult so I am totally drained.

On the way down there we were stuck in an awful traffic jam just crawling over Avonmouth bridge, and we saw someone sitting against a post on the other side of the railings with people talking to him and ambulances queuing up. They were so close to him, they could touch him. We saw him clearly as we drove by and I later found out that he had actually jumped to his death. I feel a great deal of sadness for that. It reminds me of a school friend that I was very fond of who killed herself in Bristol. As lovely as that city is, it never seemed a happy place to me and I would not really want to return to it. However, my hear is yearning for my West Country, and I would be over the moon to live in Devon or Cornwall I really would. But that won't be happening I feel in this lifetime. The cost of moving there is too great.

I returned from my holiday, totally out of pocket (someone had promised to pay for the week in a cottage as I have such a low wage, but they only gave me half of the costs....can't complain but it did leave my pocket suffering) and also I was totally out of energy and very ill on the way home. I tried to do some work, and found nothing was making sense with the nagging pain so went to bed for a couple of days.

I am up now, a bit wobbly, but getting there. I am looking forward to perhaps making stuff for me, and not other people. I want some time 'off' badly, even if it is to develop my skills a little and I definitely want to stop having to do so much admin and computer work, and designing on the page. I want to be sitting there working stuff out in my own time again. I am ranging between thinking I am totally rubbish, to thinking I am not bad at the designing and making stuff but I need to be able to take a route that is personal and not hop around doing stuff that is not coherent....does that make sense?

Anyway, in the days in between seeing Dad, I did manage to do some yarny type things. As well as trying to knit myself legwarmers and constantly changing my mind about them (the ones you like wearing, are never the interesting ones pattern wise and if you design you feel like you should be wearing a little more than a ribbed tubey on yer foot!) We went here, to this little factory outlet of Axminster carpets. They have a woollen mill behind the shop. A lot of the woven carpets, are beautiful but a bit 'loud' to live with unless you are in a stately home. We did see one design we liked, but we didn't like the price so much!

However, they had big bundles of yarn they had spun to make carpets for £1 each...pure wool for only one pound yay hay! There are about 242 metres in each skein. I decided that it could be good for making strong tapestry crochet bags, or knitting rugs etc. So might give that a go at some stage. The yarn is far too scratchy and stiff to make a garment with. Tapestry crochet might produce something with them. I also had a chance to pop into Spin a Yarn, the new shop in Bovey Tracey. Well not totally new, they moved up the road to bigger premises and they have a lovely choice of stuff, I would love to be able to sit and browse and take notes there. I normally feel totally rushed in yarn places and they can be cramped and small and not much room to think. However, the pace of this yarn shop on Dartmoor felt just right. I like to ponder, think around a subject, then see new stuff and find a use for it. Touching and feeling is good too, and certainly beats going online.
I have been reading a lot of books too, but feel totally behind in sticking up some reviews of those. I am reading Dawn French's biography, and first recognised the blanket on her bed from a childhood photo...we had the same blankets as we too were with the RAF at RAF Akrotiri in Cyprus at the same time as Dawn French and family. We lived in Limassol, but still rented blankets and stuff from the RAF.


Then later on in the book, she mentions Eggbuckland which is the village my mother came from and she also mentions Stoke where my Dad came from...and there are just so many connections I cannot help thinking we might have crossed paths at some point. For an ex RAF kid, she is very well grounded I think. We are nomads in the RAF, and we do tend to change school every 5 mins and are constantly on the move, so we tend to be either overly extravert, or introverted or both!

Anyway, if you haven't read this biography I can recommend it. It is a light and easy read even though she tackles some difficult subjects. I know you can't really tell what people are like from reading things they have written, but nevertheless she comes across as a strong and grounded lady and I would be proud to have a friend like her, she seems fiercely loyal as well as very funny.

Who knows, with my Granny Spry having had about 13 kids, and them all running around Eggbuckland and other Plymouthian places, Dawn and I could actually be distant cousins! We both came from families where the women were short....and stout! She was even given the same nickname as my dog, from living in Cyprus! Cypriot Greeks like to put a ''Mou'' (not really a moo) after a name of someone they have affection for. Literally it means ''mine'' but it is sort of like darling or dear. So DAwn was called Dawn Mou shortened to moo, and my dog was called Blackie Mou shortened to moo moo, or moo moo poo poo.