Thank you, my fine fibrous friends, for your heartwarming comments in response to the self-care post, including the many from people who are new around here. (Welcome, do come in and please excuse the mess.) I started replying to each comment, but they number in the hundreds, and I’m not sure I can write a sensible response to every single one without being prosecuted for child neglect.
Special thanks for your birthday wishes for Mother Twisted, but more on that in a minute.
Anyway. Gather round, people (NO, NOT THAT CLOSE) and let’s get down to business. I say ‘business’, but I started this post without a clear agenda, such are the times we’re in.
To begin: there hasn’t been a great deal of knitting, though I’m still working on the book. In a sort of yarny version of the children’s game ‘grandmother’s footsteps’, the deadline for my book keeps sneaking closer whenever I’m not looking. I’m writing and designing as fast as I can, but it’s an uneven process, and the past week has involved more ripping back than knitting forwards.
So how are you coping in our strange new world? Never mind loo roll, I hope that you have enough yarn. I hope that there is creativity in your days. I hope your loved ones are safe. I hope you have food. I hope that you’re coping with worry in this, the year of the disappearing toilet rolls. I hope that wildlife is thriving within sight of your window, whilst human life pauses some of its activity.
Until my run this evening, I hadn’t left home for nine days, due to a brief lurgy (not the lurgy, as far as I can tell) which resulted in my boss telling me to work from home for a week. We’re not allowed to see patients face-to-face at the moment, so all contact is by phone.
Please don’t hate me, but I’ve actually loved being at home, apart from the worry about loved ones. Our garden is small, but luck has meant that the past few days coincided with some unseasonably sunny weather, plus the springtime waking up of wildlife, and a busy period in the grow-your-own-dinner calendar. I’ve mostly been outdoors, feeding various wildlife.
There’s always something going on in our little garden. Robyn-the-robin still demands all thirty-nine of her daily meals. In the pond, thousands of tiny creatures are getting their act together for springtime shenanigans. In the other pond, the sticklebacks are getting frisky. Horace the hedgehog has emerged from hibernation and like everyone else round here is demanding food. Eleventy thousand bulbs are exploding into colour, and the advantage of having a rubbish memory is that I have no recollection of what I planted, so each and every one is a delightful surprise.
But it’s Robyn who really steals my heart. She’s even started daring to take food from the hand of one of the twinnage, which is impressive, because she’s lived here long enough to know that nine-year-old boys aren’t always very quiet or still.
Once upon a time, I would have said that all robins look the same, but I’ve spent so much time with this lass that when I see people’s photos of other robins, they look utterly different. They’re not ‘my’ robin. I’d pick her out of a lineup, any day. She’s getting ever bolder, following me around the garden and flying right past my face when she wants food (which is, basically, all the time).
On the not-so-wonderful side of things, homeschooling is proving to be a challenge for all concerned. And the twinnage miss their friends. But the four of us are safe, for now. We have food for the week. There’s a spare loo roll in the cupboard. (DON’T TELL ANYONE!) I’m growing dinner. The children are kind-hearted, and I have yarn. One day, all this will be in the past.
But lets give the last word(s) to Mother Twisted, because she really appreciated your birthday wishes. Here’s what she said to you all in an email:-
Thank you all for your good wishes for my birthday and for Mother’s Day. The number of kind comments from all over the world has really overwhelmed me and touched my heart. It’s so reassuring that there are still lots of people of good will in the world.
There were two of us raising Daughter Twisted. Much of her sense of humour has come from Father Twisted. Many years ago I did teach her to knit a scarf, but little did we know where that would take us! Her expertise in photography, though, is purely her own doing
For those who are mothers too, I hope you enjoyed the day even though you were separated. The virus will pass and in due course you will be able to hug your offspring again!
Stay healthy my friends.