The Help, Hats and Handicrafts

My needles have been going like the proverbial clappers - think I may need to have them surgically removed very soon - and the frenetic knitting has kept me from the bloggersphere of late .....

The charity, Shelter, has requested knitters to provide "Hats for the Homeless" and with the colder winter weather in sight when it will be no fun to be sleeping rough, my trusty Knit Girls and the Marple Knitting Group have knuckled down and are using charity-shop purchased wool and any leftover yarns to produce as many nice warm beanies for this cause.  As you can see from the photo below we already have quite a few ....

Well that's my hat bit of the above title and now I just want to have a little rave about the book I've just finished.  The Help by Kathryn Stockett is about racial segregation in the 1960's in Jackson, Mississippi - my daughter Sian, gave it to me whilst with her on Martha's Vineyard in October and as we so often enjoy the same reads I set about it the minute I finished Room by Amanda Donague (also excellent).    It is a real page turner, funny, poignant and relevant and I thoroughly recommend it.   Today I am taking Anna to the hospital for some physio and then we are treating ourselves to a bite of something or someone and then off to the Macclesfield Cinemac to see the film of the book.   I've heard good things and will let you know what we think.

When taking a break from clacking away at headgear I have been knitting a Christmas pressy sweater for the adorable Elias - my 5 year old grandson.  I'm really pleased with it as it's turned out to be such a little chunka-munka - here's a photo (don't look Kate or Elias) - hope the postage is not ridiculous as it's as heavy as a small suit of  chainmail!

The Film Society showed Walz with Bashir last night which was the Ari Folman superbly animated film of the 1982 Lebanese war and depicted in a sort of acid-trip way the massacre of  Palestinians at that time - this was no Disney and sort of closer to Apocalypse Now ....

My garden looks rather like a disaster area at present and hopefully the good autumn weather we've been having will continue into the weekend so I can take control in a woman-possessed sort of way and cut back all the herbaceous, remove fallen leaves and weeds and put pay to the wild strawberry plants which form across the whole area like congregating bad boys.

Next weekend, 26th November I will be participating in a village craft fair and hope to sell lots of my trendy knitwear and then on Sunday 27th off to the Vintage Fair in Wilmslow which last year was a blast and where I purchased my amazing 1950's foxfur cape - please forgive me - you'd want it if you saw it!

Death of Summer

No shyness here as death now glows

with autumn colour.

Much Keatsian mellow fruitfulness

as winter solstice nears

and Wordsworth’s backyard is at its loveliest.

Nature’s blanket

of acid-green mossiness

covers the path and the damp fallen branches.

The ancient dry stone walls all grey and tilting

And look ….

The lovely lake-face now breeze-stippled.

Amber bracken petrified to a crisp

and woody heather, dark-green and flowerless.

Icy falls spill over time-worn rocks

and froth with gathering speed.

Nests now dry and empty, birdless.

Underfoot the skittish blue-green slate

just a little treacherous.

And a zillion crushed and blunted pine needles

trodden flat.

Chill descends as afternoon’s

last sunlight colours the far-off vapour trail

with bright orange reflection.

The man in the moon now makes his entrance

as a full, round face beams down

and is seemingly pleased.

Autumn Compote

4 pears

A few plums

Stick of cinammon, allspice, nutmeg

Honey

Prepare the pears removing peel etc.

And cut into halves.

Stone the plums

Put everything in small saucepan with lid

And simmer very gently for about 20 mins.

By which time there will be lots of lovely juices

Serve with Greek yogurt

October 2011 - Trip to the States

Our October trip to New England was magical - the weather was far from typical fall as the temperature was high, the leaves were not turning and the sky was a perfect blue.  We swam in the ocean, were cossetted by our family, did yoga in Sian's class, saw Dana play at a gig, enjoyed a "girlie clothes swap" with Kate (must try this here at home), talked and laughed with the kids, met some great people, enjoyed fantastic Cuban dinner cooked by Rockin Rick and Keith, worked with Kate on her "new side garden" and replanting two baby ginkos, travelled as seniors on the bus from one end of the island to the other which was great fun and so it went on .....

I'd made up my mind on this trip to attempt to teach some of the grandchildren how to knit and I could not believe how well they took to it .... Elias age 5 was the first and with some little help I left the States with him wearing his midnight blue wristband - very cool.    Ivy and Pandora were next when we arrived at Martha's Vineyard and like little ducks to water they produced cuffs, headband and were working on scarves as we left.   India age 10yrs produced a lovely aqua headband as seen here -

and Ginger the dog was also keen to get in on the act as I worked on my knitted patchwork throw.
    
  It was great to go and see India at her soccer match and altho on this occasion they didn't win, she nevertheless put up a great defence - such times with your grandchildren can't be overestimated.  Precious.
 

Steve and I went to the picture perfect town of Edgartown on the Vineyard as we'd heard there was a good charity (or goodwill/thrift as they call it) shop there - I really got lucky and bought three fab felt hats, one a grey fedora type, a cloche in purple with wonderful wide green velvet ribbon and a funky black one with raspberry-coloured corsage - 15 dollars the lot.  Steve said I looked rather "Miss Marple" in the fedora but of course I ignored that and went ahead and bought it and since then I've had quite a few compliments from the womenfolk!!


I was delighted that the sweaters I had knitted for the girls were immediately worn and they really seemed to like them - they certainly looked gorgeous, I thought, as shown here and worn with their pj bottoms.

We had a particularly good evening around the dinner table with Sian and her girls and Natasha (originally from Macclesfield) and her twins, Claudia and Paige  ..... we talked about the differences between Americans and the Brits - there were no fights and it was all great fun .... Claudia then recited some of her beautiful poetry, Sian read one of mine and in no time at all Ivy (aged 11) was over on the sofa and writing some of her own.   Pandora (aged 9) a few days later also got the poetry bug.

After two weeks on the island Sian took us to the ferry and we said our quick (less painful) goodbyes and spent our last days in the U.S. in Somerville which is just outside of Boston with Kate, Dana, India, Elias and Ginger.   One of our lasting memories was seeing Elias head off for school the day we left.
                                                       
It's tough being so far away from our family but we're not alone in this these days with our global community and all you could ever want is to know that they are healthy and happy wherever they are ... and for us, well home's not bad either.

My recently knitted rag-rug type rug for the loo ....

I've used a white flannelette sheet and a blue cotton sheet from charity shops cut into strips and knitted to get this effect .....

My bling-chic cardi

Just thought I'd like to show you my bolero-cardi which I've just finished knitting and am rather pleased with ..... it is sparkly and quite bling but I think it's also sorta chic too .....

Last Saturday evening we had a fantastic charity event  to raise money to help Stop the Traffik of young people .... most of the models were gorgeous young things (just the occasional senior!) and were wearing charity shop clothes principally but there were two or three ranges from other sources - one of which was my creative knitwear range which featured on the catwalk in the Winter section.   There were also stalls selling jewellery, photography, artwork, cakes, cards, knitwear and all the clothes that had been modelled on the catwalk.  

Autumn roses

Almost Over

The last of the roses from the garden .....

New Dawn, Peace, Golden Showers and a deep pink

climber whose name I’ve forgotten or never known

I cut them on a bright, morning last week

and delighted, in that small way one has,

in arranging them in my green glass vase

along with a few bronzing hydrangea heads

Umpteen times, up and down my hall,

up and down the stairs,

They’ve caught my eye and pleased me  …..

Looking so lovely on the table by the front door

Today I smelled a pungency as I

watered the roses drooping heads

Yes, almost ready for composting

Almost over ….

But not quite ….

There was still a beauty about them

But now it is of the sad sort

The sort that causes a little pain in your heart

Ten years on ....

11 September 2001 8.45am

Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts, USA

The aircraft like some child’s video game, some computer graphic, slams into the building. I watch the TV screen as in a disaster movie another aircraft ploughs into the second of the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York.  Numb and feeling like a voyeur, I stare,  as they collapse before my eyes. Plumes of leaden smoke, sirens, traumatised people running every which way, America is under siege.  With the first aircraft we think it’s some horrible, freakish accident.  With the second we hear the words “hijack” and “terrorist attacks”.    And then a third plane crashes into The Pentagon in Washington.   Flashing up on the screen the words “A United Airlines jet crashes near Pittsburg”, the fourth.  I’m thinking of films like King Kong and Towering Inferno and expecting some Hollywood hero to appear.  I’m having a major struggle with the reality of what is happening.  Is it really going on?    Where do emergency services begin?  Tears well up repeatedly but I feel ashamed at my inability to feel anything specific.  It’s like a messy void.

The twin peaks and their 110 storeys have been a symbol of America’s wealth and prosperity.   And now all there is is debris and wreckage and reporters tell us 250 brave firefighters on the site including New York’s Fire Chief are dead.  There will, of course, be thousands more.

We are on holiday at my daughter’s home and we make our way quietly with my grandchildren, to Menemsha Beach – children need to play.   There is an eerie silence across the beach as ships’ flags fly half-mast and the usual rock-warning bell tolls with bizarre significance.  It no longer feels like the land of the free, the American Dream has become a nightmare.

On our return from the ocean the car radio reports that the Wall Street Stock Exchange is closed for business. 200,000 lines are down and there are staffing problems – a euphemism in some cases for fatalities.   President Bush has been spirited away to some secure, secret place – it is thought that the White House was an intended target also.

It is impossible to perceive of the many repercussions quite apart from the dreadfulness of human loss.

Blood donors are requested.  There are many walking wounded but it is suspected many, many more are dead and as thumbnail sketches of some of those victims are revealed to us, bit by bit it becomes a reality.  There is wall to wall radio and TV coverage everywhere and the shadowy enemy seeps out into our homes.

As the day closes it dawns on some the awful significance of the date -  September 11  - or as they put it here 911 – the USA’s emergency dial-up code. There is a terrible anger which will need to be assuaged.  Sadly, there is unfinished business. 

Meg Marsden/11^th September 2001