Springtime in the Twenty-First Century

After spending the last few years insisting to myself and anyone that would listen (plus a few that wouldn't) that I had absolutely no need for a smart phone, I have bought a smart phone. I'm not sure how my usual two-texts-a-week phone use will change now I have 5000 texts per month on this plan.

5000 texts. That's at least 161 texts per day. Assuming I get 8 hours of sleep, I'd have to send one text every 6 minutes, all day, every day. It takes me longer than that to write some texts, especially on this little phone keyboard.

So now I've joined the 21st century I can take photos of things, write very slowly about them and then post them. All from something smaller than my first calculator.

On an entirely different subject: if you have to spend the first sunny Sunday of spring working on a VB project for college, I'd recommend that this is how you do it:

Chilled glass of cider not shown

Ed Reardon's Week Statistics

I've been listening to some old episodes of Ed Reardon's Week over the last few days. I'd forgotten how enjoyable it is, even though (or maybe because) half the references go clean over my head. 

For a while I was considering an attempt at a Reardonesque diatribe for this post, complete with disparaging references to Radio 4 Extra (extra what, precisely?) and its schedulers (no doubt composed entirely of twelve year-olds) but neither my vocabulary nor my vitriol is up to scratch.

And so I shall resort to my own medium to make my point: data.

There have been seven series' of Ed Reardon's Week, running between 2005 to 2011. I've looked at the BBC programme pages and the number of broadcasts each series has had. The initial broadcasts of series one to three pre-date the records so I freely admit that this isn't exactly a rigorous, "More Or Less" level analysis.

This graph shows the number of times each series of Ed Reardon's Week has been broadcast since 2007 (1-3) or since its first broadcast (4+). I've eliminated direct repeats but included repeats on 4 Extra that followed more than a month after an initial broadcast on Radio 4.

Well, that doesn't look terrible but it's not exactly comparing like with like. Series seven has had the same number of broadcasts in 14 months as series four has since November 2007. How could I express that as a graph, you might ask. You might, but no reasonable person would.

Nevertheless the answer is, like this:

Due to the fact that I'm still not quite up to speed on Excel 2010, the calculations aren't as elegant as I'd have liked but this graph is attempting to show a sort of broadcast-per-day for each series. 

The time period for each is measured from the date of the first broadcast recorded on the programme page (so the caveat stands about series 1-3).

I realise that this post has turned into a exercise in how to thoroughly alienate your reader but the point I'm trying to make is this: 4 Extra, please stop repeatedly broadcasting the first two series' of programmes. Ed Reardon is only one example of many great comedies that are stuck in a repeating loop of their early years. Occasionally the third season comes along after a six months or so (Vent!) but, more often than not, series one starts again a year later.

It's okay if this graph makes you feel that I need to get out more.
It makes me feel the same way.

I do realise that 4 Extra is all about repeats. I love that! My listening experience would be a lot narrower without the fabulous range and depth of the 4 Extra schedule. I also realise that new listeners are probably more likely to stick with something if they can hear it from the beginning

But please, I'm begging you 4 Extra, consider the graphs, look at your own records. Series four hasn't been broadcast for four years. Surely longer-term listeners deserve the reward of something new from time to time? 

Because the alternative is more graphs. And no one wants that.

A Fate Worse Than Homework

A couple of days ago I was feeling quite smug. In April I'd be going to London for a training course that I'd been hoping to do for more than a year. Even better, I'd be taking the opportunity to see John Finnemore on Sunday, an art show on Monday, John Richardson on Tuesday and Andy Zaltzman on Wednesday. Last weekend, after my frenzy of yarn purchasing, I even managed a few trial runs of places I'd need to travel to. My only concern was whether to book something for the Thursday night too. And maybe a little mini-concern that I might be rather tired by the end of the week.

Then I received a letter telling me that my training course was cancelled.

I should explain: I don't normally do this.  It's rare that I go away for work but, when I do, I am a model of professional and responsible behaviour (save for the odd G&T-inna-can). I usually spend my evenings sitting in a hotel room, watching BBC News, writing something boring for work and making sure I don't have any accidental fun. It's boring. I also don't make a habit of filling my week with exciting comedy and art events (even the most dedicated social butterfly would find that a challenge in Burnham). No, this was a rare and exciting thing for me and I was starting to feel a "Holiday" level of anticipation towards my week in London.

Maybe I've read too many books and watched too many films. I'm not looking for action, adventure and high romance from real life but I'm pretty sure the rules state that: when a character pushes themselves outside the routine of their regular life to experience new things, it's supposed to have a good outcome. They are not supposed to receive a letter telling them that their fun has been cancelled.

So I've spent the last day trying to work out exactly how much I'm willing to spend for something I really want to do yet know in my heart will be too expensive. Come hell or high water I'm seeing John Finnemore but it was the entire week-long comedy/art adventure I was looking forward to. But I know what midweek London hotel rates are like. Plus food. Plus the train tickets. Plus travel when I'm there.

Just how much are three comedy shows and one student exhibition worth?

Well, thanks to the genius of laterooms.com, it's looking like Rebecca's Super-Fun London Adventure may be more feasible than I'd first thought. Apparently there are student rooms you can rent out of term time. Add in some complex but undoubtedly sound advice on splitting train fairs and it's actually beginning to look like I may be able to afford my fun after all.

Now one final challenge remains: I just have to beg, bribe or bully my team leader into allowing me to take a week off during our busiest month, while he'll be on paternity leave and we're two people down. Surely that can't be harder than finding affordable accommodation in London, can it?

Yarntastic

I've been attempting something of a Yarn Pr0n Tuesday thing because I'm usually at college on a Tuesday night. So I cheat on Monday and schedule a picture of yarn that I like for while I'm out. So, in approximate keeping with my own tradition (four weeks is a tradition, right?), here are some photos of my purchases from Saturday.

This is Nimu Yarns' stunning Blea Lace. It's 100% silk and it has an impressive 750m of fabulousness waiting to be knitted into I-have-absolutely-no-clue-what. 

Although I was taken with the texture of the yarn (and I really don't have the first idea what to do with 100% silk laceweight) it was the colour that really caught me. There's a definite trend to most of my purchases this weekend and I just couldn't resist the stormy blue-grey colour, especially when I discovered the tiny flecks of turquoise in a few places.

No turqouise here, you'll just have to take my word on it

This is more Nimu Yarns Sizergh. I bought a stunning blue/black skein in December and my plans for it just won't work. I panicked when I realised I couldn't find it on their website so obviously I had to buy some when I saw it. Obviously.

For some reason I can't get a good, clear picture of the whole skein of Sizergh. My only guess is that the mohair halo is throwing off the focus of my camera.

If this were a regular Tuesday I think this would be my Yarn Pr0n

And here's the new holder of Most Paid For a Single Skein. It's also without any doubt the highest I've ever paid per yard: This amazing Pixie Dust by Yarn Collage is only 35 yards. 

What am I going to do with 35 yards? I have no idea but it's going to be a real challenge to do justice to this yarn. It's soft and beautiful and it makes me think of silk cocoons, strung together then spun in a web of fine mohair and silver. 

That's not what it is but it's still amazing and for some reason I can't seem to get a suitable close-up.

And that just leaves my two non-yarn purchases. Well, I also bought fabric but that's not going to look remotely interesting until I've done something with it.

It was probably inevitable that I'd buy some Colinette but the real surprise was just how little of it I saw at the show. This is Roving and I plan to fight the very strong urge to spin it. For a while I've been curious about felting with fibre before it's spun/knitted and I think this may end up as some sort of (highly) experimental scarf. 

Now, as if I hadn't indulged myself enough, I thought I should probably buy something that wasn't wool. I'd just succumbed to the Pixie Dust and was lost in visions of cowls when I came across the Stealth Bunny stall. Aside from being very friendly people with chocolates on their stand, they were also selling an extremely weird and wonderful selection of buttons. 

Well, I thought, if I'm going to spend lots of money on wool and (probably) make some sort of cowl with it then there's no way I'm putting a normal button on it.

That is a hallmarked, sterling silver button made from the bowl of a spoon and I would be far too ashamed to admit in public how much it cost. But it's so beautiful and so lovely to stroke. And it'll go so well on the shimmery Pixie Dust. And it's silver. And...

And...

And..

And, hello. My name is Rebecca and I'm a yarn addict.

Quilt Envy

The Stitch and Craft show was host to two quilting exhibitions I think.

Spread around most of the top floor were hundreds of quilted pennants from Quilts 4 London (although I'm currently listening to Ed Reardon's Week I'm going to resist the urge to comment on that 4). Apparently the aim is to give one to everyone competing in the olympics and paralymics. The pennants were a real mix of styles and clearly came from quilters with a wide range of skill. The volume was impressive and I can't even imagine how much work must have gone into organising a project of that scale.

Almost half the floor was devoted to the A Gift of Quilts exhibition, which was more impressive in size, scale and skill. Also for the olympics, this project will give one quilt to every team competing the games. 

I'll admit that I'm a late recruit to quilting and I should probably confess that I'm enjoying the process of making the thing more than I'm going to enjoy the final product. More often than not, all I can see in a quilt is a bunch of different fabrics that don't quite go together in a pattern that I can't quite make out. Or a set of boring fabrics in a pattern that is so regimented that it may as well just be printed.

Wandering round the exhibition, the point of several of the quilts still passed me by. I can appreciate the amount of work that goes into them (hand sewing hundreds of little squares of fabric will give you real appreciation of the amount of work a quilt takes) but the over-all effect of some were lost on me.

Only some, though. The rest were a lesson in how it should be done and the vast gulf that lies between my beginner's efforts and the beautiful quilts that approach works of art. Some of the best had too many people admiring them to get a photo. 

Here are some pictures of quilts made by people with excellent fabric-based imaginations:

This is how blue should be done

Unlike me, the person behind this quilt knows how to make rectangles not-boring

Just in case I'd been doubting my lesson in how contrasting colours work in quilts

This is the only quilt that made me laugh out loud

And this quilt is a physical manifestation of the gulf between my skill and true quilting

 

Yarn Budgets are for Losers

I have to start by saying that there are some unfeasibly attractive people in London. I kept wondering whether the tube had been suddenly overwhelmed by escapees from a high-end fashion shoot.

Anyway. This weekend I have mostly been travelling on the Bakerloo Line (or the Brown One, as I know I'm not supposed to think of it). I'd allowed about an hour to get to Olympia on Saturday morning and the plan went well until I got to Earl's Court, panicked that there might not be a train  in time and bought a massive A to Z so I could find Olympia myself. So my best-laid plans for travelling very light were a little dented.

The queue at the Stitch & Craft show was on a surprisingly epic scale and quite chaotic, though I did find myself behind a woman with a lovely entrelac coat that I would very much like to find the pattern for. 

I did quite a bit of fretting about whether I'd get inside before the workshop began but only because I'd convinced myself that it was starting at 10. Once I was inside and realised it was actually 10:30, I had enough time for a very quick exploration of the venue. Good job too, because it was packed before long. I'd hoped to get a photo of the sheer scale of the event but I never found a good vantage point.

The ground floor was mostly fabric and miscellaneous. The basement was workshops and card making. By 10:25 I'd only found two yarn stalls and I was beginning to worry that I might have planned a whole weekend in London in order to get only acrylic and generic brand yarn.

Fortunately I was proved wrong when I followed some slightly lost-looking people to the second floor and the extensive "Knitting Zone". With only a couple of minutes before I had to dash back down to the basement, I did a super-quick loop of the stalls frantically stroking exotic yarn and trying to work out how not to blow all my money in one place.

When I got to the Colour Wheel Workshop I'll admit that I was a little disappointed to discover that it mostly involved sticking bits of fabric to card. But, once we'd done our cutting and sticking, we moved on to colours that work together.

I've never really understood colour and I'd hoped that this might help. To a certain extent, it did but there was also a fair bit of: "...and if you take these three and add in the colour opposite on the wheel, see how it really works?" And I didn't. But maybe I'll never really get it. 

Apparently this combination really works well. I'm not convinced.

Following the workshop, I pushed my way through the packed crowd of crafters and headed back upstairs. I was particularly keen to find Nimu Yarns and any other smaller-scale producers/dyers. In the end I gave up searching and forked out an utterly ridiculous £4 for the show catalogue only to find Nimu right next to a stand I'd been to three times already.

A knitted village. Obviously.
I suspect crazy challenges like this might be why non-knitters think we're a bit strange.

I refuse to add up exactly how much I ended up spending but I do know that I set a new record for how much I'm willing to pay for a skein when I succumbed to some stunning yarn called Pixie Dust from Yarn Collage.

I'm going to have to wait for some good daylight to get some proper pictures because only natural light will do justice to most of my purchases. In the end I came home with:

• Colinette Roving (because I'd like to try some felting)
• Nimu Blea Lace (beautiful coloured laceweight silk)
• Nimu Sizergh (because I'm just not happy with my plans for the current skein I've got)
• Yarn Collage Pixie Dust
• A beautiful button made from the bowl of a silver spoon (Stealth bunny!)
• Fabric for a new knitting bag

In addition to all the yarn on the second floor, there was also an exhibition of quilts but that'll have to wait for another post.

All in all, Saturday was a great day and it ended with suitably large quantities of sushi. I only wish I hadn't spent several hours extremely preoccupied by the fact that I'd entirely forgotten the word "demographic".

Knitting: 1, Radio: 0

For the most part, my hobbies play well together. Knitting while listening to the radio works on the bus, the train and at home. There are whole projects that I will forever associate with a particular play (sorry, drama) or comedy that I might otherwise have forgotten if not for the fact that a joke or intense scene somehow became entangled in my yarn and ended up knitted in with the pattern.

But this weekend I faced a choice between my two great loves: the Stitch & Craft show in London or the More than Words listening festival in Bristol.

The craft show took an early lead. It was my birthday last week and I'd hoped to organise a girly weekend in London to celebrate, complete with craft-based indulgence and stereotypical quantities of wine. Unfortunately, the logistics proved impossible and I was left with only a stubborn determination to exercise my independence for company.

And yet, there was the More than Words festival and the BBC ticket unit luring me with their promises of radio on my doorstep. I have no idea what the workshops would be like but I know that I very much liked the idea of going.

In the end, knitting won. Okay, the combination of knitting and a destination more exotic than Bristol won. If I'm honest, I think it was the ticket ballot for More than Words that swung it. Yes, I see that it's fair. Yes, I see that really each person should probably get tickets to just one show. But if you're looking to make the most of a weekend then you don't really want to trust it to a random ballot.

I've still not entirely come to terms with my decision. I feel oddly guilty about not even attempting to go to More than Words, a little like I've made some lame excuse that no one believes so that I can miss a friend's birthday party just because I don't really feel like going. (For the record, I don't do that.) After all, I can do knitting all year round but how often does the BBC come and hold a listening festival in the nearest thing I have to a home city?

So, if anyone is going to More than Words, please have a little extra fun for me. Go to shows, go to workshops and listen to things, preferably in headphones crocheted by Get Knitted.  I shall be thinking of you while I force myself not to spend a small fortune on yarn.

Oh, and if you could tell me what a listening festival actually is, that would be great.