We’ve all had to work out new strategies for coping this year whilst the world has been spinning off its rocker.
But don’t worry my friend, no matter how outlandish your survival techniques have been, you’ll find no judgement here… and I’m sure that both of your pet cats genuinely enjoy wearing the replicas of 12th century French armor that you painstakingly crafted for them out of old baked-bean tins during the early weeks of lockdown. Look, they’re hardly hissing at you at all these days! They love it! Just like my family love picking their way carefully between eleventy million pots of vegetables that I’m growing in the garden because what you definitely need in order to survive a pandemic is MORE KALE.
Still, some folks’ responses to the situation have been surprising. Take, for example, the behaviour of an entire village near here. For the purposes of this post, I’ll refer to the village in question as Upper Itchingweasel, though this is not, in fact, its real name.
Upper Itchingweasel is a beautiful village, with an abundance of thatched roofs, timber frames, and neatly climbing roses. Sometimes I run along the village’s main street, feeling ever so slightly as though I’m lowering the tone of the place as I go.
I’ve lived before in a village where they’ll tell you in a joking-but-not-really voice that you’re nobody unless your family has been in residence for four generations, but this place is something else. The manor house has been inhabited by the same family for 600 years! Feast your eyes upon this charming old cottage:-
BUT WAIT, what is that I see, on the edge of the well? Shall we take a closer look? Do I see… knitting?!
I confess that I had Upper Itchingweasel pegged in my mind as a terribly serious place, dare I say it even a little po-faced. Every village has its own character (ours is exuberantly friendly) but I suspected that Upper Itchingweasel took itself just a tiny bit too seriously.
On reflection, I owe Upper Itchingweasel an apology.
I was wrong.
You see, the inhabitants of this prim-and-proper place responded to the imposition of lockdown not, like the rest of us, by drinking too much wine and grumbling a lot.
No, instead they decided to yarn-bomb their entire village – an act which was both brilliant and surprising.
I’d noticed a couple of knitted pieces whilst passing through on a run, but obviously at the speed I run, my surroundings tend to flash by in an indistinct blur. 😁🏃♀️
Then my friend sent me photos of the yarny brilliance, which motivated me to go and have a proper look.
So the other day, I peeled the twinnage off their screens (#badparent #homeschoolingdisaster) and took them out for a wander around the fibrous lanes of Upper Itchingweasel.
We were not disappointed.
Would you like to see more?
Aren’t these creations wonderful?
Everywhere we turned, there was more to see.
Seriously, I haven’t a hope of showing you everything.
But I think we can all learn something from the example of Upper Itchingweasel.
…Which is that when faced with a frightening global pandemic, take out your needles and KNIT!
Until next time,
Happy yarnery, my fine fibrous friends.