In which confusion reigns

My life seems to be getting unnecessarily complicated.
This does not amuse me.

As you know, I have until the beginning of May to remove myself from this house. Also as you know, I have a standing invitation to return to the family nest. Which is fine.

Except. I have an interview (HURRAY!) in Glasgow next week. If I get it, I will need to relocate up nearer the city pronto.
I also have a good lead on a position WAAAAY down South. Which would also mean relocating, but to the opposite end of the country. I very much like the look of this particular position, BUT I'm unlikely to know anything definite until well into next week (ruddy Easter.) By which time I might have an offer in Glasgow.

The other problem is that I need to give notice to the council, the electricity board, Sky and BT (oh NOOOO) that I'm moving. BUT I DON'T KNOW WHERE TO YET!!! And ideally, I'm supposed to give a month's notice to all of them. That'll be Tuesday then.

See the dilemmas? COMPLICATED. Aargh. All I can realistically do at the moment is sit and wait and see who wants to offer me a job. My head is mince at the moment :-)

So anyway. In a very successful attempt at distracting myself from OMG I HAVE TO MOVE ALL THIS STUFF AND I DON'T KNOW WHERE TO AAARRGH I have been keeping busy.

I have carried on spinning that fine purply stuff (Bruise). It looks exactly the same as the last bobbin, so I'll not bore you with a picture.

Here's the ate-a-clown-then-threw-up yarn - spun bulky thick-and-thin-ish and plied with a metallic thread:



I did some more carding:





and corespun another crazy batt:



I finished the Crazy Freeformish Cotton Throw, which has been over two years in the making (all the trimmings from darning in the ends went into the previous batt):



That's a not-quite-finished shot, it now has the gaps filled and a wee edging on it. It weighs a ton :-)

There were lambs outside my window one morning:



I started a new project:



Ysolda's Scroll Lace Scarf, from Yarn Forward magazine a wee while back.

Ange and I went to Ayr and bought yarn (and fibre, and jeans, and some new cute T-shirts and a new skirt, oops)





and I spotted an AWESOME sale on sock yarn, and I may have bought two sweater's worth (yes, I am going to knit myself a sweater out of sock yarn):





Mmm, Kaffe Fassett colourways. Nom nom.

And that's it for now :-)

~*~

Not one of my better evenings

Well, it did involve hunky firemen. Which CAN be a good thing, depending. This time, well, let's just say I was VERY happy to see them. No, the house hasn't burned down (deities, thankyouthankyouthankyou) but the chimney decided to immolate itself.

I do not recommend this as a form of entertainment, however much you like firemen.

Main story is that the chimney above the range caught, and when it started making a roaring noise I thought "Well, this bugger isn't going out of it's own accord. I think I need a professional." So the lovely boys from Ardrossan came out, one climbed up on the roof and poured water very gently down the chimney, another put out the range with my kettle. They then terrified me by saying they needed to make sure the fire hadn't spread into the cavity of the wall (I nearly burst into tears at this point...my STASH ffs!) So they knocked a big hole in the wall. Yeah. The stovepipe disappears into the wall, so to make sure nothing really bad was happening, they chiselled a big chunk out. Which, don't get me wrong, is EXACTLY the right thing to do, but even so it's a bit unnerving watching someone take a chisel to your wall while smoke and steam are pouring out in all directions.

The upshot of all this, apart from me paranoidally (I don't think that's a word) feeling the walls around the chimney to make sure it's properly out, is that they've condemned my range. The chimney is all wrong apparently, which is why it set on fire so readily. So, in the middle of the coldest snap for 30 years, I have no central heating.

Go me.

Lucky I have lots of woollies, huh?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go feel my walls.

~*~

UPDATE! The landlord has been very nice, said I'm to keep warm with my electric heaters and he'll sort out recompensing me for the electricity. He will get on the case Monday to get someone to have a look at it and decide what's best to be done, whether to line the chimney and put in a flue and what-have-you, or whether to write the whole lot off as a bad job and put in oil central heating. Which would be great. In the meantime, I'm cuddled up with the spinning wheel in front of the fire (I'm watching that one like a hawk, but as it's a straight-up chimney it should be okay) and making beef stew to keep toasty on the inside.

All good fun, eh?

~*~

bullet points

Brief Update as things are busy busy Chez Moi.

Friend visiting for a week from Sunday…here are my current preoccupations:

· Much cleaning is ensuing…place was getting a little Withnail-ish for my liking
· I am concerned about the lack of heating upstairs
· terrible rattling noises are coming from the dormer in the bedroom which she will be sleeping, mainly because of the howling maelstrom outside
· the window in there is still letting the rain in (thankyou my efficient landlords)
· I need to scrub the bath, even though it will still look like a hippo has been wallowing in it because the enamel’s worn away, at least I know it is clean even if it doesn’t look it

At least I thought to get some curtains for the window in her temporary bedroom, which cost me £3 (love you charity shop!) and have been washed today, so just ironing and hanging them to do tomorrow, all being well. I’ve mopped the floors, hoovered half the house (other half tomorrow) and shaken out all of the rugs:



Dad’s sweater is coming on, albeit a little slowly, but there is only so much grey stocking stitch a girl can stand in one session.



I felt the need for a little pizzazz in my life, a little less “working to a pattern” and fretting about gauge, so:



I’ve gone a bit freeform. It’s scarily addictive. This will hopefully be a hanging to go over the fire in the lounge, I’ve decided much as I love the picture of Inverie Bay, it doesn’t work where it is currently. As soon as I work out where its new spot is, I’ll shift it.

Other stuff:

· Sewing machine died, in the middle of making a case for my DPNs. Not amused, but I finished the case by hand, and sent the machine off for a wee holiday to Ayr with a nice man called Sandy. He told me the foot pedal was full of spiders. How embarrassing. :-)
· I’ve begun stocking up on quilting kit (see above for minor hiccup in timing.) Because what I need in my life is another fibre hobby, naturally. Ahem.

· I haz a sofa! Well, sort of. I picked up a sofa and two armchairs last week in the village saleroom. I must admit, it is as ugly as sin. However that’s what throws were invented for, it is comfy and I am not short of a crocheted blankie or two to throw over it. How much? £40. For the lot. I also snaffled two bedside cupboards FINALLY, another £40 then a tenner for delivery. £90 total – yay me. Credit crunch? Moi? Only thing is, because the sales and deliveries and that are all run by the Initiative volunteers, they’ve not been able to deliver it yet. Fingers crossed it arrives tomorrow…

· My train packed up yesterday on the way home from work. Arrived at Saltcoats, after coming past some fairly dramatic waves, the sort that make me want to make a hearty donation to the RNLI and thank my lucky stars I’m not a fisherman. We pulled in at the station, usual OP, then *click* out went the lights. Eventually they were restored, and we proceeded on our way. A sheepish announcement came over the Tannoy from the guard – “We would like to apologise for the delay. This was caused by a wave breaking over the train and cutting off the power.”

So…let me get this straight. This is First ScotRail we’re talking about, and this line is one of many that runs close to the sea up here. You’d think they would have come across this problem and sorted it by now, surely... So anyway, my train had a fit of the vapours because it got wet. That is kinda funny J but it does make me hope a nice tasty job comes up closer to home soon, because if the train is going to die each time the sea looks at it sideways, it could be a very long winter of commuting ahead…

· Speaking of the “W” word (work, that is, you with the dirty mind at the back, stop it) they’ve announced redundancies. Oh great. The guy who sits almost opposite me is one of them. He doesn’t seem to be too worried, but even so. Gulp. I hope its not catching. I have visions of having to return to Staffordshire and live in Mum and Dad’s shed, condemned to endless evenings watching EastEnders. Either that or packing the yarn and moving to some semi-derelict black house on a wee island somewhere where I can survive on a barter economy and maybe growing vegetables, with the wind howling and me huddled round a peat fire at night-times to stave off hypothermia.

· My hair has gone insane. I think it’s the weather.

· It is raining. Again. I know this is Western Scotland and it rains a lot, but really? It’s a miracle the whole western half of the country hasn’t rotted away or dissolved. However, on the positive side, I think I am becoming more accustomed to it. I am growing webs between my toes and my gills are coming on a treat.

· I have burned my way through almost half a ton of solid fuel and almost quarter of a ton of coal in an alarmingly short space of time. I need to devote some time to timber-hunting on the estate (I can help myself to any fallen wood) and I also need to knit faster so I have more woolly jumpers and hats.

· I think I have tennis elbow from shovelling coal (coalman’s elbow?)

Enough already…time for more freeforming before bed. Night all.

~*~

Christmas is coming....

hahahahaha sorry. True though...and Dad has spake forth. "I want a jumper. Make me a jumper." No argument, no indecision. The man has decided, and only a sweater will do.

Gulp.

Oh dear.

I have only ever knitted 1 1/4 sweaters in my life so far. Both for me, so I don't really mind if they're a bit, y'know, not perfect. But this is my Dad, so it has to be a) perfect, and b) fit him.

Gulp.

Me: "Muuuuuuuuum! Helphelphelphelphelp pleasemeasureDad'ssweaterandtellmethesizes! Don'tlethimfindout!panicpanicpanicpanicpanic where'smyElizabethZimmermannbooks???"

Heh. Mums are the bestest. However it turns out my Dad has a 46" chest and likes a sweater around the 48" mark. FORTY-EIGHT INCHES!!?!?!!??!! That's like, humungous. That, for those who are in the 21st century and use metric, is 120cm. Do all men have such big chests? (I can feel a survey coming on.) Forty-eight freakin inches. I'm only a 36" (sadly) and that seems to take a lot of knitting. Even mum was mildly surprised, and managed to accost him in person for a double-check (using the excuse of him being on a bit of a diet and wanting to check if he was losing any weight...cunning, my mum)and yup, it's right. Who'd have thunk it. My dad, the barrel-chested.

Oh well. Luckily, I have 3lbs of Harris wool in the stash, which will suit admirably, (from here) and a quick order to New Lanark for some contrast colours completed the shopping list. By the way, New Lanark have put their prices up dramatically. I know they're a charity and a World Heritage Site and all that, but flippin eck, it was a bit of a shock. Mind you, it's still a very good price and lovely stuff, so I'll forgive them. Wish they could have warned me though, I'd have stocked up ;-)

I'm thinking to do a Seamless Yoke sweater, from Elizabeth Zimmermann (who else). I was originally thinking of the Seamless Hybrid (brooklyntweed did a gorgeous one here)but having never knitted a seamless sweater before, I'm thinking the yoke might be a little easier. It's also less critical on the fit, the hybrid really needs a known shoulder-width, and there's no way of getting that without letting on to Dad. I did wonder if the yoke version might be a little girly, but having had a browse on Ravelry I have seen some really nice men's versions, so that has eased my fears a little. I've got grey, cream, black and a limestone colour (sort of a creamy-grey-beige) so that should be suitably restrained for a male palate.

I just need to learn how to do stranded colourwork now and I'm all fixed.

Oh God. Send help.

~*~

Mobile Blogger

Well, the wonders of modern technology. Not only do I manage to get WiFi on the train, which enables me to order three seasons of NCIS on DVD from Amazon (cough - well its not my fault that Channel Five keep showing them in a crazyass order and getting me confused) which of course means I can enjoy Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs whenever I like :-) and pick up fashion tips from Abby. Sweet. (I am having a serious NCIS!Love phase at the minute, and TOTALLY shippin' Abby and Gibbs. So cute.)I didn't order season 4, it's twice the price so I'll leave that one for a while. It looks like season 2 is being repackaged so I've had to pre-order it, which means the whole shebang probably won't arrive until early September due to Amazon's technique of delivering the whole lot together. Boo. Well, best things come to those who wait...I hope :-)

I'm now sitting in my hotel room, in Holborn, cursing the stupid non-smoking laws and the English Sunday trading regulations (Scotland have this one nailed) which means Sainsbury's down the road is shut. This means I am having to moderate my tea intake to ensure I have some for the morning. Not good. The place I'm staying is actually a little studio apartment type thing, which isn't too bad. Fold-out bed though, not sure what that's going to be like...oh and a big thanks to my employers, who obviously haven't got this whole hotel thing straight yet - I've had to pick up the £500+ bill to claim back. Thank the Goddess for credit cards is all I can say.

I don't really want to be here in all honesty. I'd rather be at home tucked up in my own bed, but I got to do this training so I'm sucking it up and dealing with it. Got my big girl pants on. I brought my knitting, but sitting squished up on the train with a funny (and very hard) armrest has made my left elbow ache like nothing on earth, so maybe I need to lay off it tonight. I did get quite a bit more done on the Sonnet, and a good chunk of the first charity hat of the new season on the train, so not too bad.

I've got tomorrow morning free, and I need to find a branch of HSBC, I have a cheque to pay in, and, guys? "World's Local Bank"? Not in friggin' Scotland you ain't. Sort It Out. I'd swap, but First Direct are so darned good I don't want to. Can someone invent a way of paying in cheques over the internet please? Other than that, I shall probably go for a wander. From tomorrow afternoon though, that's me getting totally headf*cked by some major intensive systems admin training. W00t. By Weds pm my poor brains will probably have imploded. It's a good thing though, I need this to really start getting my teeth into the job.

Well, that's me, off to mah bed. Been travelling since 12.30, so its time to turn in I think.

Night all.

~*~

getting closer...

I'm Christmas knitting
(and crocheting)

nearly there

pictures soon...

charity knits are about ready too...

Send In The Sherpas

OMG OMG OMG

My very dear friend texted me earlier to say "Can we come round tonight?" I of course said yes, haven't seen them for a while blah blah...

Have you seen our house? Have a look down this blog, you'll find it.

See the problem?

Put it this way, Focus DIY in Lichfield are now a fair few storage boxes lighter, and I'm going to do my darndest to sneak out early, get home and then go into a frenzy of cleaning, stash-boxing, floor-mopping and clothes-folding. I may have to get out the Possessed Hoover From Hades (just don't ask, me and the vacuum cleaner, well, we have issues) and vacuum up all the bits of mohair that have attached themselves to the carpet.

I need to put all my summer clothes in the airing cupboard too. Unfortunately this means getting all the winter stuff out first. Hmmm. I would like to try and find the dining table as well, but that may be a bridge too far. There's stuff been on there that long Staffordshire County Council's Archaeology department are trying to make an appointment to do a dig.

I would just like to say, that this is not strictly because of my friend's impending visit. It was started, in fact, by Her Harlotness, who is having issues with husband management. (I typed that "husbane" - how appropriate) This, followed by the aforementioned text, was enough to fire the tidying up synapses, which are now in overdrive. I also have husbane management issues, like the bathroom which remains uncleaned. Having got sick to the back teeth of feeble excuses for three weeks, I'm doing it. And I'm going to do a far better job than he ever does.

Send help.

Or failing that, chocolate will suffice.