Right, people, lets get straight down to business. I have a new pattern out, in what risks becoming an extensive range of Covid-related knitted/crocheted accessories, thanks to those of you who will insist on suggesting additional products. Please nobody request a laceweight Covidy blanket, because I’m weak-willed in the face of such challenges.
The new pattern is available via Ravelry, HERE. But read on, to see how you can get a small discount.
We’ve already had the knitted Covid Cowl. There’s a little mistake in rounds 36 and 38, kindly pointed out by the very cool and photographically talented @soozjewels on Instagram. (She’s worth a follow.) For both of those rounds, the first two stitches should be pink, not yellow. And today, I published a crocheted Covid hat. There’s a knitted Covid hat half written-up too, coming soon, but I thought I should offer something for the hookers.
The Crocheted Covid Hat is worked in the round using tapestry crochet, with some post-crochet embroidery to accentuate the thingummies (technical term) on the Covids with orange. The pattern for a splendid little crocheted Covid topper for the hat is included, as are suggestions for a pompom in case you don’t want to walk around with a comedy stuffed virus atop your bonce.
There is a charge for the pattern of £2.99 or equivalent, because luxurious tropical islands with accompanying diamond-encrusted superyachts don’t buy themselves, y’know? But you can get a 20% discount until 20th March 2021 by entering the code BADCOVID at the checkout. And if life is financially beating you about the head with a wet kipper right now, then please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org, and I’ll send you the pattern for free, because my attempts to become a ruthless capitalist are not going very well. Click HERE to buy via Ravelry.
Phew, that’s the heavy business stuff done. Lets fling aside our stuffy formal attire, put our feet up on the coffee table, chuck another log on the fire, and relax. I hope you have yarn and something to drink?
(Just for the record, I don’t really want a tropical island or a yacht. And if by luck I ever become a gazillionaire, I’ll follow Isabella Tree’s example described in her book, Wilding, and buy lots and lots of land to rewild with the help of native species. Seriously, you need this book in your life – it’s fascinating and heartening. Unlike peasants such as me, she didn’t need to buy the land, but what she and her husband did with it is inspiring. For those of us whose parents cruelly failed to bequeath a vast estate with on-site castle, may I also recommend the more pragmatic The Garden Jungle by Dave Goulson. By the way, this here rogue paragraph might be a tad off-topic, but I’ve been trying to work these recommendations into a blog post ever since I finished reading both books which, given that this is a yarn-related blog, is no mean feat.)
Whilst I’m loathe to do the whole ‘Sorry I haven’t blogged for ages’ thing, I’m, erm, um, err, sorry I haven’t blogged for ages. The cancer treatment is largely done, so I’ve returned to my day job (psychologist) and… it’s hard. The cognitive function, the energy, they’re not there yet. My coping-with-everything strategy (aka running) is helping a bit, but even running is much tougher and slower than usual. So it’s taken several weeks to write up this one blog post and pattern. Big oops. (It’s taken me even longer than that to get to the bottom of the dreaded laundry basket, which does at least tell you something about my priorities in life. But today, I finally reached the bottom of the basket, and I can tell you that it is a strange and slightly malodorous place. Not sure I want to visit it again any time soon.)
As I said, the silly little cancer problem is mostly sorted, other than ten years of hormone drugs. (I’m bitter about that, because my mum – Mother Twisted – was only sentenced to FIVE years of the same drug for the same
offence cancer. ???? ) And I’ll need reconstruction surgery at some point because right now, one breast is way bigger than the other, so I risk listing to the left and running around in little circles when attempting to navigate a straight line. But that’s not urgent, so I can wait, and I’ll shove a couple of rocks in my bra to even things up in the meantime, because I’m nothing if not resourceful in the midst of a pandemic.
And whilst I’ll always miss Robyn-the-robin, I’m enjoying being bossed about by her gender-arbitrarily-decided son, whom a follower on my Instagram account cleverly named Robinson. He hasn’t fed from my hand yet, but he’s quite happy to yell at me until I refill the mealworm feeder.
More importantly, I hope you’re OK. I hope that your family is safe. If you have young sproglodytes, I hope that you’re doing better with home-schooling than we are. (The Stoic Spouse and I both count as ‘key-workers’, so we do at least get to send the twinnage to school on my two work days each week.) It’s hard, though. The twinnage miss their grandparents. The grandparents miss the twinnage. The twinnage have too much screen time. But I know, I know, it’s the same up and down the country and across the world. One day, all this will be in the past.
Stay safe and fine and fibrous, my Fine Fibrous Friends.