We all make mistakes, right? Errors such as thinking, “I can finish knitting this jumper before my friend’s birthday.” Or deciding that of course you’ll remember what size hook you were using to crochet that half-done afghan.
The Stoic Spouse has a foolproof method for avoiding knitting and crochet mistakes… which is to never once in his life attempt either knitting or crochet. He has thus maintained a laudable 0% failure rate in all things yarny, unlike the rest of us fallible mortals. He’s not entirely immune to making other sorts of errors, however. Allow me to tell the story, but very quietly, in the hope that he’s not listening, yeah? This post is illustrated with photos whose meaning will become clearer as we continue.
First, a little relevant background to this tale. My parents – the Twisted Seniors – have a habit of moving to a completely different part of the UK once every decade or so. (I await news of their imminent transfer to the Scottish Hebrides any day now.) When I was 16, we moved from Hertfordshire (England) to a teeny-tiny hamlet in rural south Wales that was home to far more sheep than people. It was a mixed experience for my awkwardly teenage self. On the plus side: gorgeous scenery, dramatic and fossiliferous coastline to explore with my new friends, lambs sneaking into the garden from the field next door in order to make Big Trouble, grass snakes around our newly-dug pond, and a lovely house with a cliff (ex-quarry) in the garden, where I found an ichthyosaur fossil in the rockface whilst poking about for samples to aid my geology ‘A’ Level coursework.

On the minus side, an astonishing quantity of rain, delivered systematically as a relentlessly soaking drizzle, plus the life-lesson that not all schools were as nice as the one I’d attended before we moved (and a little bit of ostracism for having secured a place at Oxford Uni). But lets not dwell on that. The relevant point for this post is that our tiny hamlet was within just-passed-the-driving-test range of some awesome teenage adventuring along the stunning Jurassic coastline, and up into the mountainous majesty of the Brecon Beacons.
Soon after the Stoic Spouse and I met, my parents moved yet again, so my poor husband hasn’t had much experience of my old stomping ground. Wouldn’t it be great, I suggested, to show him and the twinnage the secluded caves, the crystallized stream-beds, the walled clifftop garden, the fossil-rich cliffs, the so-many-castles-that-nobody’s-bothered-to-fence-them-off-and-charge-admission? Of course it would! Even the Stoic Spouse agreed with that, and he agrees with remarkably few of my clearly genius ideas. It’s half-term school holiday here in the UK, and the Stoic Spouse got on with booking us a cottage for three nights away in my old neighbourhood.
Reader, the Stoic Spouse booked a pretty cottage in a village called Ystradowen, because my teenage home in the hamlet of Maendy was a mere mile away. I was excited and slightly uncomfortable to be heading back after an embarrassment of years to my former home. What if I bumped into someone I’d been at school with, someone cooler than me?! What if I got arrested for loitering outside my former home telling the twinnage “This is where Mummy used to live”? I vaguely glanced at the photos of the house but didn’t otherwise do much investigation because I was in the middle of a horrendous week. (A middle-of-the-night ambulance ride to hospital with a struggling-to-breathe twin was a particular low point – he’s fine now – but the week also dumped a whole load of other less-serious yuckiness too.) But I did just about find time to have some seriously mixed feelings about our trip. We invited the Twisted Seniors to join us, because the cottage was fairly spacious.
The Twisted Seniors received the link that we sent them.
The Twisted Seniors viewed the link that we sent them.

And then The Twisted Seniors responded with a respectful enquiry about whether we’d noticed that the house the Stoic Spouse had booked was in an Ystradowen some forty miles away from the Ystradowen that we’d had in mind. Err, oops.
Actually, not an excessive quantity of oops. The Ystradowen in which we arrived was magnificent, with a view across the valley to the majestic Black Mountain. We spent three happy days in the Brecon Beacons, walking, adventuring, clambering up waterfalls, and watching the twinnage splash about in streams, hunting for invertebrates and building dams (conclusive proof that they are indeed my children). But that doesn’t mean that I’ll let the Stoic Spouse off from a good teasing about his mistake every single day for the next ten years. Strictly between you and me, I’m actually glad that he booked this wrong-but-gorgeous place, but I’ll gnaw my own nose off before I admit that to him. I hope that you can keep a secret, yes?
But I seem to recall that this is a knitting blog. Having sent off both cardigan and its pattern to Novita, I’m focusing on the cosy stranded dress that they also commissioned. For a moment there, I was stressed about deadlines and busy knitting this beast regardless of outward activity, even if I was deep underground in a cave with my family.

But the folk at Novita are nothing if not reasonable, and we’ve agreed that this second pattern will be good to go for the autumn edition of their magazine. So at last I can breathe, and gambol with my children, and generally not stress. So now we’re home from Wales and I’m unstressed and… what could possibly go wrong?!
Plenty. I should have learned by now that there is always that plenty that can go wrong.
Sigh
You are sadistic, Philippa ! – but then, his history of no mistakes is one that does need taking down .. Yeah, I’ll give you that. 🙂 Good to espy him in an image but.
Your photos are superb, woman !! – you can easily move into photography as a career when you find the current one proves too taxing. (Only the gods know how you’ve managed NOT to’ve done so years ago ..)
Love the fat skink.
Not happy re the breathing difficulty bit, even though he’s fine now. It’s my personal terror, that.
I’m hardly surprised your Nordic firm bends over backwards for you: they know which side their bread’s buttered on, they do ! 😀
It’s always tricky knowing where to begin in responding to your multifaceted kindness. So in random order:-
Yeah, the not-breathing thing was deeply troublesome.
The good folk who work at the Nordic firm are just kind-hearted and creative and wonderful by nature.
Thank you for photography comments. All of these shots were taken with my phone because I was too bone-idle to get my proper camera out. (The exception is the last-but-one shot, which was taken by the Stoic Spouse: that’s me and Twin 1 at the very top of the waterfall.) Any credit for beauty must go to the landscape, because it’d be really hard to make these scenes look anything other than beautiful.
Please tell him that the depth-of-field he achieved in that shot is AWESOME !!!!
Yes! (I will.)
Gorgeous scenery! Perfectly OK to have a knitting blog post that’s all about lovely places. That’s inspiration and colour/texture therapy. X
Thank you.
Beautiful scenery, and as always an entertaining story
Thank you and also thank you!
We’ve just returned from a cycle trip to the Netherlands (not as flat as some claim!) and Belgium. We booked accommodation as we travelled. Arriving in Aalst one evening we struggled to find the hotel I’d booked as Google maps kept telling me it was still an 8 hour cycle away. Eventually I accepted that there’s an Aalst in Belgium as well as one in the Netherlands. We were still in the Netherlands and the hotel was … in Belgium. And no I wasn’t prepared to cycle another 8 hours. Hasty search for new accommodation, no restaurant, no food, emergency rations consumed. Lesson learned.
Oh no!!! I’m wincing on your behalf. Far too easily done. I hope that things worked out OK in the end?
Knitting in lovely places, and visiting lovely places as a momentary break from knitting. That sounds like a wonderful time to me!!! I will be heading to Moldova for a bit of volunteering soon. I am far more anxious about what knitting to take with me than I am what clothes to bring. I should probably switch those two things around for at least a little while here soon!
Can completely relate to that packing dilemma! Have an amazing time in Moldova.
Please don’t leave me hanging. I hope you are well.
Your photos are spectacular! My only visit to Wales featured relentless icy rain (in July). The slate mine tour was the highlight of the visit. So it’s nice to know the sun shines some of the time, revealing magnificent scenery!
absolutely gorgeous scenery, Phil, but you are in bed in the last photo, so I am suspicious about an injury (no running or hiking!) or illness. I do so want to get to Wales, Scotland, the Shetlands, England, etc someday soon.
I’ve never been to the UK but your photos are so beautiful that I am envious. I knit every day while sitting outside with my neighbors in a senior citizens compound in hot, humid Texas. Love your stories, keep up the good work.
Ah, ya … remind me to tell you about our inpromptu trip to Wales, when we were living in Heidelberg. We never saw any staff in our hotel in The Mumbles, but someone knew that we wanted to change rooms to be on the second floor and left us a new room key while we were out for dinner and then handed my son more towels when he went downstairs to watch something besides the national dart competition his parents were watching in the room (who could miss Brave Dart??) … oh, and the look that our Merthyr Tydfyl waitperson gave my physicist husband when he asked what was in the blood pudding … what a really lovely adventure that turned out to be!
I kinda love most of this post. And then there’s the view from the bed, which I’m guessing is not good health-wise. I hope things get better quickly.
Ah, yes. The spouse who never lets me forget instances from 40 years past, but conveniently forgets his issue with reality yesterday. Dear Twisted, life with you would never be dull. The pictures are amazing. That you can knit and walk without incident boggles my mind. The last picture tells another story entirely different from the rest of the post. Please tell us all is well and that bed-knitting was just a minor incident. Now, about the bathroom remodeling. . . .
I love your blogs and I agree with M-R, a career in photography surely awaits.
I too hope you are well but also know that bed can be a safe retreat when family get overwhelming…as a mother of sons….
I’m deeply sorry if I unintentionally gave the wrong impression. Nothing significant is wrong, and the bed-knitting was merely a lazy lie-in whilst looking out across the valley.
So glad you found the welcome they keep in the hillsides, even if the wrong Ystradowen. Well, if they will be so unoriginal with place names . . . Hey, I had Welsh grandparents, I can make such comments – if not in Welsh!
Glad you found the good weather too. Actually the times we’ve visited Wales the weather has been, mostly, wonderful. We even have pictures of Snowdonia in blazing sun. Boy was it hot there that year! Had to buy a sun hat in Betws-y-Coed – there wasn’t a lot of choice!
Yeah, it’s disconcerting when you have to crack open the sunscreen in Wales!
We all have horror stories about this, there are twenty Saint Pardo in France, my friend learned when she tried to find us. Hurray for Google maps and NavMan. You should definitely tell him daily about this mistake, one need that to correct a spouse every now and then XD I love Wales for the same reason, kids can be so happy in nature there. Oh, extra time for the dress! Yay!
Ha, thank you!
How DARE YOU… leave us hanging at the end. Hope all is well with you… didn’t fall off that waterfall and break something I hope. What a beautiful holiday your family had.
It was beautiful, and I apologise for wrongly giving the impression that something bad had happened.
When I lived in East Anglia I did not get out enough. These pictures are proof of that! Gorgeous! Though, I must admit I thought where I was living at the time was stunning enough. So pleased your twinnage is doing fine. And don’t worry about posting pics that have nothing to do with knitting. We love peeking into other corners of your life – in a non-stalkery way!
Thank you for all of this! You’re very kind.
Wow, such a beautiful place. I’m so envious. I should be able to visit such places, they aren’t that far away but it’s not possible with 4 rescue dogs, two with travel sickness/anxiety issues and a bad back that doesn’t like driving long distances! So I live vicariously through the photos and experiences of others like you. I too thought you were ill or injured, I’m glad all is well and the twin is ok. I had that with one of my boys when he was very small.