That title is misleading. I’m not really a millionaire, although I did just find a bar of chocolate that I’d forgotten about so I am feeling pretty fortunate. (I sometimes hide chocolate away from the Twinnage, and the advantage/disadvantage of having a rubbish memory is that I then promptly forget it ever existed.) But the title of this post is because recently, my blog visit stats passed the million mark. Those visits can’t all have been by my mum, surely? A million! That’s quite a big number. Thank you, all of you, for visiting. You’re awesome. Especially you. Yes YOU. Please, have some flowers from my garden:-
Meanwhile, the rather large knitted panel is mounted. It should be higher up, really, but I’m loathe to bang additional nails into the wall because round here, that’s the sort of behaviour that leads to big chunks of house falling off. (Yesterday, in the rain, we got to play one of our favourite games. It’s called Where’s-that-drip-drip-drip-noise-coming-from-and-which-bit-of-roof-is-leaking-this-time? This game is second only in our affections to Do-you-think-it’s-rained-enough-for-the-cellar-to-flood-again?-Why-don’t-you-have-a-look?-No,-I’m-busy,-YOU-look. Fun times at Twisted Towers.)
Mounting the knitted panel on the frame was easy, with the aid of a staple gun.
And yes, I will write up a post about the design process.
Since this thing was finished, I’ve had a motivation slump, yarn-wise. Instead, as the weather turned weirdly warm and sunny last week, it felt as though an invisible piece of elastic kept pinging me back outdoors. I spent last summer/autumn burying a garden-load of bulbs and digging the wildlife pond and now, as we peek over the threshold of spring, the results are beginning to show.
As soon as he weather warmed up, the garden and the pond did a collective “WA-HEY, LOOK AT MEEEEEEE!” behaviour that might be irritating in a person, but which is perfectly endearing in a garden. Everywhere, everywhere, there is exuberant colour.
I haven’t dared tell the garden that winter may yet sneak back in with a last hurrah.
Another advantage/disadvantage of having a rubbish memory is that I have no recall of what bulbs were planted where, so each one is a complete surprise as it pokes up from the soil. Oh look, a tulip!
And another tulip!
And a ladybird! Hang on, I don’t remember planting that…
Is it me, or does that ladybird look remarkably like a cherry tomato with a few spots painted on?
Re-doing the garden is a long-term project and it’ll be a while before dots of winter colour like this…
…become carpets of gorgeousness, like this (not that our garden is quite that large):-
That photo is from Welford Park in Berkshire, where they’re partial to a snowdrop or 9 000 000.
I took the twinnage there the other weekend with my very dear friend Maryanne. We wandered the woods and paddled in the stream and – lacking a net – we used our hands to lift stones and gently capture fairy shrimps and flatworms and horse leeches and water lice. (Yes, we put them all straight back.)
I’m unstupid enough to realize that the twinnage will find their own passions and directions in life but I’m not gonna lie: it fills me with joy that the boys are developing the same fascination with ponds and streams that I had at their age. But maybe it’s for the best that they haven’t discovered the fun to be had in damming waterways…
And still, day after day, February did a convincing impression of June. (“Hey look at me! I’m hot and sunny and you’re getting sunburn every time you go for a longish run because you can’t get your head round using sunscreen so soon after Christmas!”) The lure of outside proved to be even stronger than the lure of sofa-and-yarn.
But indoors is calling and there is knitting to be done. We’re mere days away from the next Stylecraft Blogstars meetup and we’ve all been encouraged to bring an A4-sized piece of knitting/crochet…