Saturday 31 December 2011

Assassin's Creed Revelations

... has stolen my life. I went to Get Knitted today and some bought fabulous wool but I can't stop assassinating templars for long enough to write about it.

Wednesday 28 December 2011

A lesson in trusting my instincts

 
3.25 mm

3.5mm.
I have no excuse for the stripes
Well, the hat is finished. It was supposed to be a slouchy hat but a whole new word needs to be invented for just how big this hat is. Oh well. My initial test piece was 3.25mm and I should have known to stick with that. It's not that it doesn't fit, more that it looks a bit of a joke because I can fit my whole head inside and pull it right down to my chin!







New lesson:
My tension is incredibly
different on circular needles.

The hat is currently drying/blocking so hopefully I can get some photos tomorrow and start the process of convincing myself that it's not as bad as all that. In the mean time I've started another draft of the hat on 3.25mm needles. It's also a good excuse to try it out with a self-striping sock yarn, I'm sure I must have something suitable in the Big Box of Yarn, otherwise I'll be talking myself into a trip to Get Knitted on Saturday.


 
I've also started something that I've had in mind for a while, using Nimu Yarn's Sizergh yarn. Either this is going to be a super-effective scarf or I'm going to hate myself for wasting such stunning yarn. The skein I have is a breathtakingly beautiful midnight blue with tiny splashes of colours. It's shimmery and soft and fabulous. The pattern needs something contrasting but it's hard to imagine anything worthy of being used with the Sizergh. The best I could do is spin some lovely soft Blue Faced Leicester. I'm out of practice so it's rather inconsistent (no, it's textured - as my teacher would say) but hopefully it should be a good contrast. Not sure how much I'm going to love this though, it's going to have ends to sew in and already I know that it looked far better in my head!

Winterthorn

The hat has a name! Over Christmas I conducted exhaustive research into a good name for my pattern (I asked my family). Despite my sister's insistence on "Christmas Hat" or "Blue Christmas Hat" and my Dad's rather unhelpful "White Lightning" and slightly more helpful "White Thorn", I finally settled on Winterthorn. It seems to match the pattern and the colours.

I knitted three test panels in the end. The first was too small (3.25mm) and I didn't love the colours. The second was a better size but I hated the colours. The third was only a partial panel to get the lower border right. Plus I tried out a couple of options for rib. Unfortunately, by the time I got the the rib (and particularly the transition from rib to pattern) I was already rather tipsy on winter pimms so I think I missed some rather obvious stuff. Oh well.

The test knit is now well on its way, mostly because I have done pretty much nothing other than knitting and watching silly christmas family films for the past three days! I'm already at the decreasing and I have learned several things: my tension for continental purling sucks (the  test panel is waaay smaller than the real thing) and I need a LOT more practice at stranding.

I think that before I'm happy with this I'm probably going to have to make another, especially if I can find an interesting self-striping yarn with a nice slow colour change. If so, there will be one less repeat of the rib and that will probably be in 3.25mm.

The real doubt I'm having at the moment is the pattern itself. I was very wary of making it look too busy but now that it's almost done, I'm not sure there's enough detail on it. But I'm determined not to make my mind up until it's all finished. So tomorrow may include buying some 3.5mm DPNs as the circular is getting unwieldy.

Thursday 22 December 2011

Harumble!

I don't watch a lot of TV. DVDs, yes, when I've got a lot of knitting or spinning to do but not much TV. It's not some kind of principled stance, I just don't find much of interest. But The Bleak Old Shop of Stuff has been on my must-watch list since I snuck a look at a copy of the Radio Times a few weeks back. 

I should start by saying that I am crazy about Bleak Expectations, I love both the amazingly surreal world and the jokes. That said, I know it's a bit of a marmite programme. In the unscientific focus group of my team at work, Bleak Expectations causes something of a split. We all hate Count Arthur Strong, we all love Warhorses of Letters but Bleak Expectations divides us. From my solidly "pro" position, I can't help thinking that the "anti" people either haven't given it enough time or haven't spent enough time listening to Dickens dramatisations. Okay, you don't need to know the stories in detail but you have to have a feel - and perhaps an appreciation - for the atmosphere.

So when it comes to The Bleak Old Shop of Stuff, I was a little wary. When it comes down to it, I'd much rather be listening to another series of Bleak Expectations than watching a TV mutation but I wanted to give it a fair chance, untainted by my radio bias. After all, I didn't get Bleak Expectations the first time I heard it.

My first impressions were rather weird: I didn't imagine that my main thought for the first 20 minutes was going to be "There's a lot of stuff". It left me feeling like I'd probably caught/got only half of what was going on. I don't know if that's just because my brain can't deal with the idea that Bleak Expectations might have scenery or because I know that the street posters that were everywhere in the initial scenes must contain some very odd stuff. Also, the slightly weird CGI settings were a little off-putting (but clearly very necessary, how else are you going to put a shop into a debtors prison?).

It's hard (and foolish) to judge something by one episode but I can't help thinking that there are some things missing, something like Harry Biscuit and his inventions. Not only because they make me laugh but because all those swans let you know exactly what you're in for from this insane, super-logical world. Also, Harry is brilliant.

I can't for the life of me work out what I'd think of The Bleak Old Shop of Stuff if I wasn't already so much in love with Bleak Expectations. I think perhaps that the things that initially put me off the radio series are naturally still be there in the TV: there's something about the dialogue and the utterly surreal little Dickensian world that takes substantial getting used to. But there are a lot of Bleak Expectations fans out there and, if we can only get over the fact that it's not Bleak Expectations, then The Bleak Old Shop of Stuff has a natural fanbase ready to mobilise. The news that there will be another series of Bleak Expectations next year is certainly all the reassurance I need to allow me to see the TV series as something in its own right rather than a replacement for something I wildly enjoy. And so I say "Harumble!".

And an entirely unconnected second harumble: Carl Prekopp in the Archers. That'll teach me to get behind on the omnibus.

Get dressed you merry gentlemen!

I love days when I have absolutely no plans so I've been very much looking forward to today. About the only thing I needed to achieve today was, ideally, making mince pies to distribute in place of Christmas cards. Well, I procrastinated for a while but eventually ended up listening to the Cabin Pressure Christmas special while making these:
 
Excessive pies mark the official start of Christmas


I heard the Christmas episode of Cabin Pressure last year. I remembered that it was funny but I'd forgotten just how funny. There are a lot of things I find amusing but Cabin Pressure makes me laugh out loud. Frequently and at significant volume.

I was particularly happy to hear at the end of the episode that they'll be broadcasting the first series from next week because I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't warm to it at first and I've only heard some of the more recent episodes. I don't really have any excuse except that I didn't give it the time it deserved at first because I thought that it might be too much situation and not enough comedy. Once again: idiot.

The Christmas special was the perfect example of properly funny jokes balanced by the interesting relationships between the characters. I think it's this that makes Cabin Pressure so great: the characters are more than just a method of getting jokes across, they feel like people you might very well know from your office. Or possibly eccentric members of your extended family. I was going to say "except maybe Arthur" but then I remembered a colleague, a nice girl but she had more in common with Arthur than any real person should.

Though I'm not really in a position to comment, today I was entirely empathising with Arthur and his overwhelming love of Christmas. As someone who has constructed decorations for her office out of garden canes, tacking thread and paper snowflakes made from old application forms, I think that an umbrella decorated with milk pots sounded pretty amazing.

Considering some of the more bleak Christmas radio (I'm looking at you, The Holly and the Ivy) it was fantastic to have something so decidedly pro-festive-spirit to listen to while making endless mince pies. Thank you John Finnemore, you genius, and thank you 4Extra for broadcasting it this week.

sucky stripes

Anyway, about the only other thing I've managed to achieve today is a test knit panel for my hat. Charting it actually proved to be easier than I thought but what's really giving me trouble now is colours. The default blue for 4ply is a boring powder blue and it's cramping my stripes. I suck at colour at the best of times and this is not the best of times. Plus the panel has turned out waaaay to small so I'll be knitting another, with bigger needles. And possibly more adventurous stripes now that I have caved in and bought another ball of wool. Unfortunately, it's a oddly bright turquoise that I'd never normally touch but I can't shake the idea that I can somehow make it work.

Also, I'm beginning to wonder if the calm, plant-y design in my head might not actually be a bit sinister and thorny now it's approaching reality.
I think I may like it better that way.


Tuesday 20 December 2011

I dream in hats

Well, okay, I don't dream in hats. That would be unusual and probably unpleasant. But I woke up yesterday with a fully formed hat in my head, right down to the colour combinations. Normally when I get attacked by pattern ideas I just draw a clumsy sketch in notebook and plan to come back later but I made the critical mistake of going to the shops yesterday. So now I have the wool (five balls) and a really clear picture in my head of what I'm planning but no actual idea of how to make the hat.

The main problem is: it's 4-ply. I got bored/annoyed enough at a double knit hat but 4-ply? I'm going to go crazy. Also, I've recently decided that hats don't really suit me, or at least the sort that are head-shaped don't. So I'm aiming for a slouchy, 4-ply, tam-ish-but-not-too-flat, colourwork hat. Urgh I'm going to regret this so very much.

But there's something about this challenge that I think will keep me nicely occupied over Christmas. The main challenge is that I've never made a hat in anything like this spec before so charting it is going to be an absolute bugger. In an ideal world I'd make one all in white, draw all over it with marker pens and see what comes out of it. Short of that I've no idea how to work it through properly because it's going to have a non-repeating pattern. Which is going to make it a bugger to fit into a PDF too.

The reason I know this is going to be worth doing is that I know I'm going to hate knitting it but I still can't stop planning it. Although I woke up with it in mind, it's actually the culmination of several ideas I've been considering for a while, I just hope it's going to look as good in real life as it does in my mind's eye. What I'm aiming for is something calm and plant/glass panel-ish. Sort of like what sleeping beauty's conservatory might have looked like after a ten years or so. Wow, that's going to make for a lame name.

Now, time to get some 2.5mm circulars

Sunday 18 December 2011

Any excuse is a good excuse

In my book, any excuse for a Dickens season is a good one. And a 200 year anniversary is about as good as excuses get. Although Dickens was born in February, no one will begrudge the BBC starting their season in time for Christmas. In fact, I think they've shown more restraint than I might but then I'm rather partial to Dickens dramatisations, especially when they're on a suitably large scale.

That's why (with the possible exception of the Cabin Pressure special) the new version of A Tale of Two Cities is the radio programme that I'm most looking forward to this Christmas. I was surprised to see the BBC promoting it as the first version for radio in twenty years: I had no idea that the previous version 4 Extra dates from 1989. Maybe 20 years isn't as long ago as I think it is.

I always felt there was something fascinating about Dickens but, until I read A Christmas Carol, I never managed to get further than the first page or so of anything I tried. Probably because of the staggering sentence lengths. I think perhaps I couldn't understand why he was so respected when he didn't know how to express himself concisely. But, when I had a little more patience, I threw myself into A Christmas Carol and loved it like a private secret. I felt as though it had revealed the hidden code and truth behind every adaptation and reinterpretation of the story.

Over the last few years I've kept an eagle eye out for the various Dickens dramas that have appeared on 4 Extra. Although there have been some great versions of Oliver Twist, Little Dorrit and other well known books, I've most enjoyed the stories I didn't know.

I'm not sure what initially put me off A Tale of Two Cities, probably the idea of the setting. I don't really know what I was expecting but I do know that I was very wrong. The seven hour 1989 version drew me in to a surprising extent. There's a clarity to the story that I love and the threads that draw the characters ever closer are strong and fascinating. A Tale of Two Cities fascinated me and I decided to by a copy of the book.

The time between a decision and me actually acting on it can be long. Very long. And for some reason my irrational wariness had returned. Okay, so A Christmas Carol is one thing. But A Tale of Two Cities... well... a book set in the French revolution is going to be hard going. What if I can't make it through? I love the story but what if it's all just too grim?

Idiot.

I love books, with rather fastidious care and attention to corners I keep them safe, never crack a spine and refuse to lend them - even to my closest family - for fear of the terrible fates that might befall them. This is not an attitude that lends itself to buying second hand books. That much book-abuse is just too hard to look at. But in Dunster there's a little second-hand/rare book shop and there I found a little pocket copy of A Tale of Two Cities. It's not glamorous but it's small, has delicate thin pages and a blue cloth cover (something I find irresistible in any book).

I started reading that night and I couldn't believe what a fool I'd been. Not only was it easy going but I couldn't believe the humour of it, nor how much it touched me.
    "A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other."
Has anyone ever put it better? I can't imagine how.

So I am very much looking forward to the new adaptation. Hopefully five 45 minute plays will do it justice, it's a story that deserves its every vile tw, ever good deed and every tragic turn in all their perfect detail. My only complaint is that Carl Prekopp will be wasted as Jerry Cruncher.

Oh, and I do wish it was being broadcast a little closer to February. I've not quite finished reading yet.

Saturday 17 December 2011

It was a week before Christmas and all through the house...

...there wasn't a sound except for occasional, irrational giggling.

As a certified Christmas nutcase the last two weeks of the year are, without a doubt, my favourite. I have too much childish joy for this season to concentrate it all into a single day. I finished work on Friday, which means that it is now officially Christmas as far as I'm concerned. That means an excess of eggnog lattes, snowflake earrings, mulled wine and Christmas radio.

But this year I feel like I must have got ahead of the season somehow. I know there are a large number of people that seem to take great pleasure in complaining about how early Christmas starts each year but surely they can't all have joined forces to delay it this year? Only in the last couple of days have I heard any adverts for Christmas radio and I've yet to catch a single festive drama. With only a week to go, surely that can't be right?

Fortunately I've a wealth of Christmas radio recorded from previous years so I have been wandering around in my own festive Radio 4 bubble, giggling wildly at old episodes of I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue and Ladies of Letters.

I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue has a special place in my heart at Christmas. I think I was probably about 14 when I began to realise that my crazy, childish love of Christmas was changing. I was growing up and, although all the incredibly specific, detailed traditions would remain (and still do), I didn't take the same joy in just opening presents and running round eating far too much chocolate. I had to find my own definition of what Christmas was going to mean as I got older.

At that point I'd long ago realised that Radio 1 wasn't technically compulsory for teenagers and I'd found my spiritual home in Radio 4. For all that I looked forward to Christmas day as a whole, one of the most exciting prospects was a special Christmas day episode of I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue. We had a fantastic morning, with the requisite presents and chocolate and wonderful fun with my family but my clearest memory is going back up to my room for a lovely chilled out half-hour while I listened to a crazy and impossibly festive half hour. I don't remember what I was given that year, except for the giggles.

I'm not saying that radio is the most important part of Christmas. That's my family and always will be. But Christmas radio still plays a really, really important part in my festive preparations. The cheesy, the silly and the emotive. They're all there for me while I'm on my own preparing for that one great day with my family. They all add up to that crazy mix of emotions that form Christmas. They're the reason I can carry my festive spirit all bright and shining through the next two weeks. They're the reason I have the most epicly decorated bank of desks in the office and they accompany me as I decorate my 3.5 Christmas trees and bake eight batches of mince pies.

But I now find myself in an almost unprecedented situation at this point in December: I've almost exhausted my supply from previous years already. I've even listened to The National Theatre of Brent's "The Greatest Story Ever Told", something I normally save for Christmas-Eve-Eve. I'm holding back on last year's Marley Was Dead but that's about all I've got in the bank for this week.

So this is a desperate plea to Radio 4 and 4 Extra: It's time to bring the Christmas radio, like a Dickensian white Christmas snowfall.