(I drafted this post before anti-racist protests in the USA and then here in the UK unfolded. But see bottom of the page for my position on the matter.)
If I ever become a grandmother, one day way ahead in the future, I shall tell my grandchildren all about the pandemical craziness of 2020. I might embellish a few details for comic effect, but the gist of the saga will be true.
(By the way, it’s tricky to illustrate a blog post about Covid-19, so I’ll include photos from my garden, OK? Because to be honest, that’s where I’ve been spending every spare moment.)
And as I recline (aged 85¾) on the chaise longue that I aspire to own, sipping my breakfast gin whilst running a hand through my elaborately purple hair, I shall tell the poor mites all about the year of the pandemic. Assuming they’re still tiny, I’ll edit out the horrific/depressing bits about this hideous illness, because I don’t want to traumatise their young brains.
“Were you supposed to paint a cross on your door if you caught the virus?” one of my dear grandchildren might ask. (I like to imagine that they’ll have inquisitive minds.) “No, child,” I’ll reply, peering sternly over my reading glasses. “That was the Great Plague of 1665. I’m not that old. No, in 2020 we had Facebook for letting people know we were ill.”
“Facebook! I’ve heard of that!” they’ll exclaim. “We’ve been learning about it in history lessons!”
“Um. Oh. Yes. Of course. I’m glad to hear you’re paying attention at school: your poor father had practically no education at all in 2020.”
“It must have been a scary time for everyone, Grandma. How on earth did people cope?” (See what marvellously empathic and perceptive grandchildren I’m going to have?)
“Well… mostly people bought ALL THE LOO ROLLS, and also they baked so much bread and cakes that flour was only available by negotiating with a weirdo in the Tesco carpark at midnight, who probably cut it with cocaine in order to up his profits.”
“Wow, Grandma. People in 2020 were odd. And how did you cope? Did you drink gin for breakfast back in those days, like you do now?”
“Of course not!” I’ll respond, slightly more tetchily than I intended. “I’ve only been doing that since the Great Yarn Shortage Of 2032.” To which the grandchildren will solemnly nod, because they’ve heard all about that fiasco from their parents, and they know not to mention it any further in my presence unless they want to witness wailing and weeping.
“No,” I’ll say, determined to brighten the mood, “I coped by getting into a bit of a frenzy of vegetable-growing in our little back garden. Because whilst we might die of this virus, we were certainly not going to run short of kale. NOT. ON. MY. WATCH.”
“Oh…” they’ll say, quietly. “So was kale a cure for the virus?”
“Um… not exactly… But growing it helped me to feel as though as I was doing something constructive to protect my family, at a time when things otherwise felt rather out of control. Ditto growing potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, celery, celeriac, various herbs, carrots, parsnips, sprouts, kalettes, broccoli, purple sprouting, cauliflower, grapes, melons, lettuce, garlic, onions, spring onions, shallots, courgettes, peas, pak choi, strawberries, raspberries, leeks, Chilean guava berries, cocktail kiwis, runner beans, French beans, yard-long beans, broad beans, plums, pears, apples, sweetcorn, asparagus, mangetout, fennel, triffids, and olives.
You see, the year of the virus was as much a mental battle as it was a physical battle. And I fought the mental battle by concentrating hard on growing ALL OF THE VEGETABLES (and a bit of fruit). Our little garden started looking very dig-for-victory.”
“I see,” they’ll say, reluctantly realizing that their genetic heritage includes a side order of unhinged.
“But also, I did do a great deal of knitting,” I’ll reassure them. “I had a book deadline approaching, so I spent many, many, hours knitting and re-knitting a skirt.”
“Cool. Can we see?”
“No, dear grandchildren. Not until I’ve finished photographing it properly.”
You see, this is still a knitting blog. So much so that I’ve been too busy knitting some new designs to photograph and show them to you quite yet. But colourful colourwork is a-coming, I promise. And if you don’t mind using up a teeny bit of patience, I’ll show them to you soon.
In the meantime, would you like some kale??? I do have quite a bit of the stuff…
As I said, I drafted most of this post before the killing of George Floyd in the USA. Just in case anyone is interested in my position on the subject: BLACK LIVES MATTER. The sooner we dismantle the systemic racism that surrounds us, the better.
Your imaginary conversation and real garden bring me joy. Oh, and your extraordinary knitting, too.
And your kind words bring me joy in return. Thank you.
How lovely to read this just as Springwatch came to an end last night. I always feel bereft when 3 weeks of wonderful programmes full of wildlife, so your pix and fabulous story really help manage the withdrawal symptoms! Your fruit and veg look wonderfully healthy. I particularly like the gift wrapped strawberries! Clever solution. As always thank you for the uplift.
Julie, near Banbury.
Thank you (as always) from a short distance south of you. I’m feeling optimistic that the drawstring organza bags will protect the strawberries, with larger versions saving various brassicas from slugs and pigeons.
Thank you for the smile you put on my face today.
You’re very very welcome. Thank you for your comment.
Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are the epitomy of beauty. And you sprinkle it all around you!
Gosh, that’s much kinder than I deserve, but thank you anyway.
Oh Lord, honey you’re a hoot! I love reading your posts. I’m Linda (rather like the old grannie you were talking about), i live in a land far far away… There are great beasts here with massive horns growin’ straight outta their heads! I personally don’t have these but they are quite common. Well i have to don my 10 gallon hat ‘n’ pull on my boots ‘n’ go check my dogs (they think they’re people). Humm…maybe i need to rethink my wardobe cuz there’s nothin’ b’tween the hat ‘n’ boots save a birthday suit. Oh well, Monday is my birthday so i guess my old BD suit will do hahaha (sounding like some crazy witch!).
Seriously i am Linda from Dallas, Texas, USA, i am old and i really do enjoy your posts.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY LINDA!!!! I hope that you’re far too busy enjoying yourself today to read this reply. And thank you for your lovely comment. My sons (they’re nine) would LOVE to see your local wildlife.
Will do!
And thank you for the B-day wish. It is a wonderful day so far.
Excellent! I’m glad this stupid virus didn’t ruin your special day.
My first time to comment but this edition is just too perfect! I hope your grandchildren turn out to be just as you imagine them. Thank you from central Texas.
Garden news features a couple this week who feed two robins from their hands. They too have a family and tap on the window if late feeding. Take care. Love your photos.
Jill, oh wow! I’m off to have a look online. Robins really are wonderful birds.
THANK YOU Donna. Seriously. And hello from across our little globe. It’s hard to even imagine grandchildren when my sons are only nine, but hopefully it’ll happen one distant day…
Your future conversation with your bright, intuitive and just a little precocious grandchildren is far from my first time with mine since January ( when 2 of the 3 had the nerve to get a year older). Today is my youngest son’s birthday. He’s 39, sad day for me as his getting a year older is all about me and my getting older. The grandsons who are not quiet and well behaved children because they take after my son in law, told me all about the rotten virus that cancelled their summer vacation at a family resort in New York.
Your garden is flourishing and it sounds like you’ve thought of every veggie and then some to pack into it. My poor garden looks pathetic and my husband says it would grow better if I stopped yelling at it for being pathetic. I disagree.
I know you keep your sanity with your garden, sometimes with your knitting and your gin and let’s not forget the line of birds waiting for attention. But Twisted or not I love your posts. They are so welcome in this madness that seems to have affected our world in ways we never imagined. Your sense of humor is appreciated so please, keep enough to share with those around the world who find joy in your words. I’m smiling now here in Michigan USA.
Teresa, please accept heartfelt thanks for your raw and warmhearted comment. I’m sorry that you haven’t been able to see your own dear grandchildren lately (honestly, I do recommend imaginary grandchildren – you can see them or not whenever you like, with no public health consequences), but I hope that soon it will be safe for you all to meet. In the meantime, it does sound rather outrageous that two of them have insisted on having a birthday without you there to help celebrate.
By the way, your husband – though I’m sure he has his qualities – is wrong about your garden. Yelling at it is absolutely the best way to get it to behave.
I look forward to your posts. Thanks for another entertaining read. I especially like the little strawberry savers although I dislike such material. I hope I can buy enough little bags to save my figs. They’re delicious but se hardly get to enjoy them because the birds beat us to them.
I dream of building a mesh cage but it would be large and expensive. I suppose I could take up my knitting again, sit on the patio with a sling shot and corn pellets, but I’d work up too much of a sweat and have to stop knitting to load, aim and fire. It would be luck to have little birdies catch their nails in the fine mesh or ribbon, trip, fall and break a leg. I can’t win this one.
Loving Robyn! I haven’t seen a live robin since we lived in Colorado in the late 80s. I enjoy your Robyn Hood Tales. Knitting is a close second ’cause I’m not that good at it. Haha.
Be well.
Waving from Texas
Hi Bobbie! I’m noticing lots of comments from Texas today. 🙂 Home-grown figs are absolutely delicious – they can just about be grown in our cool wet climate – so I can understand why you’d want to save yours from the birds. I know the little bags I’ve used to save the strawberries from blackbirds are plasticy and unnatural, but I hope to re-use them over and over again for many years. Whilst I’m happy to share my produce with wildlife, there is a limit, and I wasn’t getting ANY strawberries! Robyn-the-robin says hi.
Your non-knitting posts are just as wonderful, Phil.
I thought I’d fall off my chair laughing at the allium hair and your comment !
Is that really you there, in the singlet thingy ? – you look totally diffferent ..Mebbe the hair gone blonde ..?
In the orange top? Yes that’s definitely me, I promise. Hair has gone long and wild post lockdown (hence my affinity with Allium Hair). And thank you for your kind words.
Dear friend, I adore your sense of humor, picturesque descriptions and beautiful photographs. I would give anything to be able to drink tea (or Gin) with you in your garden, knit, chat and laugh … Kisses from Slovenia
Diana you’re far kinder than I deserve, but thank you anyway. If you were only closer, an evening of tea/gin/yarn would be lovely!
Maybe some day 😉
You gave me the only smile of my day. Please keep writing.
And you made me blush. Thank you. (I hope that tomorrow will involve more smiles for you.)
Thankyou for another delightful blog, I saved it up to read with my Sunday morning coffee ????. It’s nice to have something to look forward to in these difficult times, isn’t it?
Thank you! I hope it wasn’t too disappointing!
Your blogs are always uplifting! While working at home and in school, I’m growing more vegetables than ever in my very small space. Knitting for a new granddaughter, and for my grandsons. I’ve also realised, after picking up the blanket I am crocheting for an older granddaughter, that I’ve patterned 3 repeated rows wrongly. Several times! Oh well, I’m up for the challenge of removing the rows to see if I can redo correctly, without undoing the majority of the blanket! Oh, my summer tee I’m knitting (a rare project for myself) is nearly finished. I’d been taking notes for work, then put the notepad and pen down on top of the tee without realising the lid was not on the pen. The next morning there was a large blob of ink in the middle! So glad I had bought extra yarn, so unravelled past the blob of doom and reknitting commenced.
I read your comment with such a progression of emotion, from COOL! to YAY! to EEK! to WOW! to NOOOO!
Your gift wrapped strawberries are marvellous, and I am beyond thankful for your warning of the upcoming yarn shortage – I’m off to start stockpiling now having been caught out by the loo roll panic buying this time! I love reading your posts and seeing your pictures – thank you! x
YOU’VE ONLY GOT TWELVE MORE YEARS TO STOCKPILE THAT YARN! (Thank you for your lovely comment.)
The strawberry bags are an inspiration. I have spent hours in our garden constructing a palanquin from reams of netting, bamboo canes and clothes pegs to deter the birds I was so happy to know were nesting from devouring all our soft fruit. I have seen sparrows fly up to it, hover in disbelief for a minute and then turn sadly away. I never realised gardening could bring so many dilemmas as well as rewards.
1. Thank you.
2. I had to google ‘palanquin’. Thank you for expanding my vocabulary.
3. Yup, I understand.
I love your photo of the Ridgeway trail. One day, I will endeavour to find it myself.
It’s worth the effort, I promise. This photo is looking down one of the many tracks down from the Ridgeway to lower ground.
So laughed about the strawberries. I try to eat more cherries then the blackbird. Burp. Will we’ve grandkids Phill? 2020 is an awful year. Hugs for being there with humor and laughter in a time some of us don’t have a reason to laugh :>*
Thank you for every single part of your comment. Wishing you MANY cherries in your bowl.
I so enjoy reading your blogs. You bring a smile to my face and I laugh outright at Robyn’s antics. Other commentators have already said the things I would say but one. You need to write that book to your future grandchildren. These dark days need a little laughter and whimsy to help us get through them. Keep writing your non knitting blogs and all the rest. You are a treasure!
PS. To the other commenters out in blog land. I love reading your thoughts too! It’s nice to have a community out in blog land.
Lynn in Southern California USA
Thank you Lynn, seriously. I’m touched and honoured by your comment. It’s fun to come here and be silly, and I very much appreciate it when people enjoy reading the result.
I think we’ll have a lot to tell our wonderful great grandchildren about these crazy times and how awful it was to live through something so hopelessly mismanaged by a poor government that could not bring itself to do the right, wise or sensible thing.
Yup, yup, yup to every bit of your comment.
Oh, and I do love your blog – the only one I follow.
I’m honoured! Thank you!
I have also been growing veg to keep the virus at bay, and we are lucky enough to have a HUGE crop of strawberries. I also have one of those alliums in my greenhouse, acquired as a little bulbil on a garden visit. I have been waiting for it to flower so I could remember what it looked like, and now it has. Keep on growing, and feeding the birds.
Huge crop of strawberries sounds like absolute heaven. Enjoy. Oh and apparently Allium Hair self-seeds in the garden, so you could soon have plenty.
Always a good read and brings a smile too. We need that for sure.
I have some lovely onions too called Egyptian walking onions I think, they make a knob of tiny onion babies after they bloom which then drops down to the ground to make a new colony! I will never run out as they are the first to green up after winter. Gave up on strawberries as the slugs are greedy here. I now have lots of raspberries and blackberries. My victory garden is full and growing nicely, guarded by my dog who loves to chase the squirrels away.
Like you, I keep on knitting and I think I’m ahead of the curve regarding stockpiling yarn. I did my best to support my local producers while we were locked away. I know I’ll never run out!
Thanks for being positive and helping us cope in this unusual time.
And thank you for your comment. By coincidence, I read about Egyptian walking onions (and potato onions) today for the first time, and now I’m keen to grow some. Hope yours are delicious. Raspberries are even nicer than strawberries (in my arrogant opinion), so enjoy your crop.
Wonderful, Ms Twisted. Do hope your grandchildren come somewhere near your expectations!
Meanwhile the imaginary ones are probably a lot easier.
Love the strawberry protectors. Do they work against ravening molluscs too? I’m trying to grow a few beans, beetroot, salad leaves & courgettes (kudos your Lemon & Courgette cake recipe) in our pretty shaded yarden. I don’t know how many slugs & snails I’ve stood on, HARD (in absence of a resident hedgehog/thrush) but they keep coming. Even the Really Big Ones.
Our yarden only runs to molluscs (boo!) bees, hoverflies and the occasional butterfly – so I try to grow a few suitable flowers for them too. There was an embarrassing hiatus between the spring flowers, which finished Really Early becos Really Warm February & March, then the next lot which were a bit slow becos Very Dry April. The rain has sorted this. I can go on quite a bit about various kinds of bees and hoverflies now!
And yes, much of surviving Lockdown is as much in your own head, as well as washing your hands frequently, as well as out in the garden in all that sunshine. Has the weather been trying to tell us something? Stop all the pollution and look, the sun shines!
As for the Great Yarn shortage of 2032 – you mean you, a KNITTER, don’t already have Stash stashed everywhere? Like SABLE? Writes she seeing another email offering gorgeousness. I shall resist!
Hi there!! I’m a new reader (love your sense of humor and the combo of posts on knitting, birds, and gardening—some of my favorite things!) and I’m wondering where I can find the lemon cake recipe mentioned in this comment. I couldn’t locate a search option in the site—at least not on the mobile version—so I would appreciate it if you could direct me. Many thanks!! —Nikki
Nikki, hi and you’re very very welcome here. The recipe is here: https://thetwistedyarn.com/wp/2016/07/28/the-tastiest-cake-recipe-ever-or-my-names-not-hieronymus-winklebottom/
Enjoy!
Sharon, thank you for every single word of this. By the way, did you know that some slugs are good (here in the UK)? The really huge spotty ones are called leopard slugs, and they eat dead matter as well as – more importantly – the small slugs that munch your vegetables. Not sure yet whether the bags are completely mollusc-proof, but it was the blackbirds that were causing the problems here. I hope your resident wildlife is kind enough to leave you a decent-sized crop.
And yes, I should probably stick to imaginary grandchildren – they’re always impeccably behaved and they never raid your chocolate stash.
As for the GYS of 2032, I confess that I’m a bit of a weirdo who isn’t into stash. I know, I know, I’m in a minority of one here. Feel free to laugh at me in 2032.
Good morning Phil, I really enjoyed reading your post. Thank heavens for a bit of outside space and a craft or two to sustain us during this odd time we’re living in. I love your strawberry preservation technique! Just genius. X
Thank you, L! And huge apologies for not responding yet to your message about posting the podcast and not yet publicizing it – the end of last week was a bit of a nightmare. I’ll get there, I promise!
I think my only-occasionally-knits boyfriend might be about to start reading your blog, he heard me laughing so many times. Thank you for the giggles 🙂
Tee hee, that’s OK. We welcome everyone here, even men!
So good reading your posts. Love the bird babies and robyn too. Black lives matter. One of our middle eastern doctors took a photo of a bunch of us on night shift recently. Of the 11 staff only 4 were white anglo saxon types. What would be the horrific consequence of NOT having these awesome, beautiful, skilled black men and women in our hospitals????
Exactly. On the ward where I worked before changing to my current job, I was quite often the only white person in team meetings. Many of my colleagues had moved here from overseas to dedicate their professional lives to the health service. Without their dedication, our health service would collapse.
My morning scone and cup of tea all chuckled at your writings. How ingenious are your strawberry savers, I loved them and will consider them for mine as I usually only use the bags for my knitted dishcloths for gifts. Thankyou for much enlightenment.