Going with gut instinct

As I’m sure you’ll know about me I’m a girl who loves to plan. Give me a notebook and a pen (or even the back of an envelope) and my first response to pretty much anything is to write a list.

But if this year is teaching me anything, it is that the best laid plans don’t always work out. My lovely 2020 weekly planner sits taunting me from the bookcase, with a lovingly laid out list of goals, deadlines and ‘Things to Do’ - not much of which has actually been done, for all of the current ongoing reasons.

At the beginning of the year I sat down and planned out my Temperature Blanket in detail - the colours I would use and the temperature ranges I would work to. The blog post is here if you want to read it.

And so far it’s been going really well. But this weekend I hit a stumbling block. Hitting a new temperature high of 23c I excitedly reached into my stash bag for the new colour and realised that the allocated yarn was a drab olive green which didn’t exactly thrill the senses.

But, never one to listen to my inner voice I ploughed on regardless, dutifully adding in most of the days stitches (about 2000 - if we are counting). It was at that point that I realised that I really (really) didn’t like the colour. It was way too dark and too jarring in the overall colour scheme. With hindsight it would have worked far better down with the cooler colours but hey ho. We live and learn.

So I spent a fun evening ripping it out and then decided to move the warmer colours up a bit. So the lovely sunny yellow (Butterscotch) is now covering ranges 22-24c . The next range up will be the warmer Tumeric (orange/brown) and so now I just need to look for another shade to fill in the top temperature range.

And I’m so much happier with the yellow - it sings perfectly and does exactly what these warmer sunny days should be doing. Lifting our spirits and giving us a good old dose of colour therapy.

And lesson learned (probably) - trust the gut instinct - it knows what it’s talking about.

Life after lockdown

My Temperature Blanket - Ravelry project page

I feel as though I need to preface this by saying that I thoroughly hate the term ‘lockdown’ and plan never to use it again after this whole crisis has passed. Especially since in the UK the term is relatively meaningless compared to the much more stringent conditions which have been in place across other countries. But, as a word, it neatly sums up this whole situation in a way that I don’t think any other word can. So it stays - for now.

I read an article the other day which was aimed at parents of school children in Denmark heading back to school. The premise was how to prepare kids for ‘re-entry’, the increased noise, traffic and general stimuli that they would face as they moved from so many weeks in a quiet home environment to one of much heightened activity.

It struck me that, although this was a laudable aim wouldn’t it be nice if society recognised that for many of us (raises hand here) the enforced quiet of this period of isolation hasn’t been at all bad. Obviously I spend much of the day either paralysed by anxiety or veering towards wild optimism but I do appreciate the increased time with my family, the longer walks, the absence of awkward, everyday social encounters. There are certainly elements of ‘back to normal’ that I am in no hurry to embrace again.

And, in our return to whatever normal looks like, wouldn’t it be nice for the needs of less extroverted members of society to be considered. Not everyone thrives in the atmosphere of a loud, bustling coffee shop for example. Not everyone is able to cope with the sensory overload that is a brightly lit, piped-music playing supermarket, but those are the types of environments that we seem to have ended up with.

Whenever I talk about this on social media I invariably get some ‘helpful’ comments about coping techniques, or therapy but that really isn’t the point. Society should be designed for the benefit of everyone, not just those who fit a narrow window of how normality is defined. I don’t know how many people would define themselves as introverted or hypersensitive, but I’m not so sure that we form the minority that the more extroverted amongst us think we do.

I love that some knitting shows have adapted to take into account the neurodiversity of their audience - with quiet spaces, chill-out zones, special pre-shopping times etc. As ever, the knitters are ahead of the curve. Wouldn’t it be nice to see these principles taken up my mainstream retail outlets and other community spaces.

Going to a knitting show seems like another world away right now, but I know that someday I will get the chance to go to another one and meet my knitting pals. And I’ll be safe in the knowledge, that among the knitting community at least, I can be assured that my need for quiet has already been taken care of.

The importance of downtime

Garter Ripple Squish on Ravelry

There are a few things about lockdown life that have brought my needs into sharp focus. Before this whole (waves hands wildly….) ‘thing’ I thought nothing of taking myself off to a coffee shop for a bit of downtime. Just me, my knitting, a coffee and maybe a podcast or a book. Or maybe just a drive out to a farm shop (again - one that served coffee), to a local country park. The destination wasn’t really important, it was just the need for aloneness that I was looking for.

But, in a house with 3 other people 24/7 is proving challenging in ways that I didn’t expect. We are a quiet family anyway. We have always lived at a distance from our family and we are not party people. We are definitely not extroverts, any of us - although my husband is a true ambivert.

The need for alone time is something that we have all really recognised during these last few weeks, and after some fairly spectacular meltdowns (mainly mine) we have come up with a means of trying to make sure each family member gets some time to themselves.

For me, I didn’t realise how much thinking, daydreaming and planning I do during my quiet, alone periods. Walking and being by myself often allows my brain to go off in all sorts of different creative directions. I’ve really noticed how little inspiration I seem to have for anything right now when even taking a few photographs or writing a blog post seemingly can’t happen without at least one interruption and someone looking for snacks. Add in the demands of doing a day job from the kitchen table and it’s no wonder that by 9pm I’m ready for bed.

Indeed, often the only thing that stops me heading for bed when the kids do is the need for an hour to myself - it would be nice to be sufficiently awake to appreciate it.

It has made me realise though, the need to be kind to myself. And to silence my own inner critic. Does it matter if I don’t post on Instagram today? Not in the slightest. Does it matter if my pattern has stalled or that all I’ve done this week is to knit on the same blanket? Nope. I’m the only one who will notice or care.

So I’ve taken to giving myself a big, comfortable permission slip to do whatever I need to right now. And if that means stashing an emergency bar of chocolate behind the big casserole dish in the pantry - to be eaten while playing late night games on my phone - that’s absolutely fine.

And if you are in need of a permission slip for yourself - you are very welcome to borrow mine.

Sock yarn Mash-up

It’s no secret that I love a good self stripe yarn. But while I have been really good at knitting my way through my leftover solid sock yarns (with my massive garter ripple squish blanket for example), I’ve been less successful at dealing with the nearly 500g leftover striped sock yarn - nearly all of it from the West Yorkshire Spinners Birds collection.

Socks for me or my boys take around 60g yarn (although they are now growing rapidly) but that means that I have an awful lot of significant leftovers of around 40g or so. I always felt that the bold stripes needed their own showcase and that they might overwhelm a mitered square blanket or something similarly large, and so I did what I usually do - shove them into a bag and prevaricate.

But this recent lockdown saw me rootling through my stash in search of inspiration and I suddenly had the idea of knitting these yarns as a mash-up. One colour repeat of one ball alternated with a full colour repeat of another.

I gave my boys the task of pairing yarns - and first up was my youngest son who chose the Bullfinch colourway paired with a Christmas yarn from last year. I did my usual toe-up sock with a fish lips kiss heel for speed and they practically flew off the needles. I had almost forgotten how quickly self stripe yarns can zoom along.

I was so pleased at how they knit up - and they were instantly seized by my son - always a sure sign of a winner. I’m now cruising along with a Blue Tit/Goldfinch combination which is going to be nothing if not colourful! Watch this space - possibly with sunglasses for an update.

Things to craft during a lockdown - that aren't knitted hearts

I’m not going to add fuel to the fire here but I think most knitters and crocheters will have seen requests for hearts to donate to Intensive Care Units up and down the country. Apart from the questionable logic of sending items into critical care areas during a pandemic, and the suspiciously similar wording which to me screams ‘scam’ it dawned on me that there are surely some more practical and tangible uses we could put our needles to right now.

Rainbows have become a real symbol of positivity and hope during this crisis and many people are placing them in their windows for children and others to spot on their daily walks. I’ve seen lovely chalked rainbows on pavements, kids drawings on sheets of craft paper and some brilliant knitted and crocheted ones.

Rainbow of Unity by Kerry Jayne Designs

And for the knitters - there is a knit version by the very talented Sincerely Louise - which can be found on her blog

Nurse Mates by Esther Braithwaite

Type ‘bunting’ into Ravelry and you’ll find some great examples

And if you are looking to make things now, to save for future donations how about:

Premature baby hats

Hats for the homeless

Mitts or gloves

NICU baby blankets

At such a difficult time we all want to do things that help our fellow humans and the feeling of helplessness in the face of a constant barrage of awful news is very real. I’m not trying to be trite here but to sincerely suggest some projects that might help with that awful ‘I must do something’ feeling - but yet won’t risk overwhelming services that are already stretched to breaking point.

Please craft responsibly

A Letter from Home

“To send a letter is a good way to go somewhere without moving anything but your heart” Phyllis Theroux

This quote was posted on Instagram by the very talented @giuliawrites recently as part of a project she is running at the moment. As so many of us find ourselves inside with our thoughts and feelings, letter writing is one way that we can express ourselves - in a deeper way than with tweets or phone calls. Giulia is collating a series of letters and inviting others to participate in her project too. So here’s mine.

A Letter from Home

The calendar tells me that today is the 1st April, and the blossom buds outside my window seem to be in full agreement. My brain is struggling to process this though, having effectively lost a month to illness, self isolation and now of course a ‘lockdown’

All of these are such negative terms though and now that I’m feeling better I am trying hard to think of things in a more positive light. I haven’t ‘lost’ a month, but I have spent a month getting over a nasty bug (possibly Coronavirus, possibly not - who knows), helping other family members get over their illness in turn and learning more about patience than I ever thought possible.

I have adapted to a new way of living and working - almost overnight. Making it up as we go and finding solutions that work for our 2 kids and 2 adults working at home. 

Like everyone else, we are all just making it up as we go along. No one has experienced anything like this before. We truly are living in exceptional times and we need to remember that and speak kindly to ourselves - using the same tone that I use to my children when they come to me seeking reassurance.

I’m finding great comfort in focusing on the small everyday things around the house just now. Enjoying those little moments of calm, that cup of coffee sat on the doorstep in a patch of sunlight, listening to the birds who seem to be on nest-building overdrive. There are moments of calm, even joy, in every day. The trick is to spot them when they are happening.

Being confined to the house, being limited in what groceries we can buy and when, being uncertain and fearful of the future - this is a reality for so many people now. But it has been a reality for a long time for those members of society with a chronic illness or who find themselves isolated for whatever reason. The fact that now I find myself facing these issues really highlights my own privilege in a way that is starkly unavoidable.

I have no answers and no magic solutions to this. Just a hope that when this passes, and it will eventually, we emerge with a renewed appreciation for what we have, for our freedoms and hopefully a greater understanding of the struggles of others.