I’m not trying to put you off my coming-soon pattern… but I’m probably about to put you off my coming-soon pattern. I’ve been busy making one of each colourway of the crochet version of the Four Seasons cowl, after working the four colourways of the knitted version, and creating the original as a 50th birthday present for a lifelong friend. That’s quite a lot of spotty stripey cowls. I’m kind of over it, truth be told.
Yikes, I shouldn’t be grumbling about a product that I’m about to sell… but selling has never been a skill of mine. When I was a child, my parents advertised a bicycle that I’d outgrown, and I genuinely didn’t understand why my father frowned at me when I animatedly emphasised its minor faults to a potential buyer. I was only trying to be helpful: how on earth could this be wrong?! Also, in the World’s Briefest And Least Successful Career In Marketing at the age of about 22, I was problematically respectful towards people who even hinted that they might like to say ‘No’. My resignation from that company was supported by management with uncommonly unanimous enthusiasm. On the plus side, my loathing for that job motivated me to work my backside off for years and years in order to prise my way into a profession that I love, so… thanks, I guess?
But returning to the cowls, please don’t be deterred. You could knit/crochet a couple or even – at a push – three of these things without seriously impairing your inclination to pick up needles or hook ever again. It’s only the fact that I’ve just begun the ninth such cowl that’s scuppered my will to engage in any spotty stripey yarnery for the forseeable.
Also, it’s approaching the stage where this draughty old house is mostly insulated by cowls. I should maybe hang them on the walls like the Medieval tapestries that kept post-fourteenth-century rich folk relatively safe from shivering. Meanwhile, if an actual giraffe turned up on our doorstep grumbling about a cold neck, I’d be able to solve its problem within seconds.
But there are few giraffes – chilly or otherwise – in south Oxfordshire, so the cowls pile up on the desk in my study.
Just for the record, please let me be clear that even in my most pathetically self-pitying moments (of which there are many), I recognise that there might be people out there suffering even worse fortunes than “more cowls than necessary”. Reader, I too have problems considerably more troublesome than this, but a marginal excess of cowls happens to be my whinge-du-jour and I’m gonna milk it as much as possible.
I’ve given a couple of samples away already (and dear reader LB, I haven’t forgotten that I owe you the knitted summer version), and I’ll give away more once I’ve finished photographing them. But not going to lie, I’m looking forward to turning my next lot of yarn into something wildly different.
Yarny progress has slowed since I temporarily doubled my hours at day-job work. I’m seeing lots of new patients during those hours, because we’re trying to reduce the waiting list to the point where it’s no longer visible from space. When I become a billionaire and self-indulgently squander my fortune on a few days of space tourism,* I do not want to look out of the spaceship window somewhere high in the Thermosphere and notice our bulging wait-list lying hundreds of miles below on Earth’s surface. Because if this happened I’d have to persuade the Head Honcho Astronaut to turn this vehicle around right now so that I could get back to work. (Point of information: the fact that there are more-than-zero people out there struggling with their mental health is the real reason we want to get the list size down, just in case this post implies otherwise. And we’ll get there because we don’t want anyone to wait a moment longer than necessary. Please, please, reach out for professional help via your GP if you need it. You deserve support.) But yes, there’s less time for yarnery at Twisted Towers right now, and that’s disappointing.
There’s also less time and energy for both running and growing food, and I’m struggling with both of these situations because they’re activities at the very centre of my life. Also, if I don’t exercise a lot, my perimeno self turns in to a really rather convincing impression of a slug. I can’t take HRT having had oestrogen-sensitive breast cancer, but I massively benefit from running off the symptoms of physiologically crazy. To be blunt, running has been way harder since the cancer treatment. I’ve even been prescribed an inhaler for the first time ever because apparently I might be developing embarrassingly-late-onset asthma.
But I’ll get there. Yarn will be knitted, food for my family will be grown and cooked, and my fitness will gradually increase, I hope. I’m working hard at replacing labour-intensive annual crops with perennials wherever possible. May you too know abundance this year.
* I wouldn’t do this, I’d pour the money into healthcare and education worldwide – especially for girls – and food production and climate change mitigation and habitat restoration. I’d also buy a little bit of land near my house on which to grow more food for family and friends and local people who are lacking. But sadly, I’m not wired with billionaire potential.
Linda says
I hate knitting or crocheting the same thing more than twice so I admire your dedication.
The Twisted Yarn says
Thank you. And yup, I completely understand your perspective.
Tineke says
Oh, believe me, money comes and goes. At least you are honest and want to help. That 1% of the super-rich is ruling our planet into ruins. Remember, most become rich over other people’s backs. (think Jeff Besos). I am much happier helping, and doing what I can. I have enough to drink a good cup of coffee. That garden, the neighbours fear my courgette abundance. I hope I can put the greenhouse up this year. I am home with bursitis, that darn lack of hormones. The most terrible thing is, I can’t craft. So, sniffing sounds here.
The Twisted Yarn says
Hello, m’dear, and may your bursitis somehow magically vanish some day soon. You deserve to be able to craft.
You’re right about money, although having enough not to lie awake at night stressing has a huge impact on mental wellbeing. Completely agree with you about the 1%, though. So many of us would and could do something far more worthwhile with such wealth.
(Had to giggle at the idea of your neighbours fearing your courgette abundance. Do they refuse to answer the door to you in August? Years ago I rented a room in a lovely family’s home and the father of the family left gifts of home-grown food outside my door, including courgettes. I was deeply grateful.)
kayT says
Regarding your breathing issues, be sure someone is keeping a close eye on your heart. I was asthmatic as a child and thought it was returning in my old age. Finally after being nagged by my husband I went to the cardiologist and surprise! It wasn’t asthma, it was triple bypass surgery! So, just be sure all the parts are being checked on. Best to you.
Teresa in Michigan says
Dear Twisted,
Take a breath. Tell the giraffe to enjoy the cowls for now. Did you sell your crocheted season cowls? No deadline to meet? Then you’re making the patterns for your loyal followers who will follow you anywhere, cowls patterns now or much later.
I’m reading that being a cancer survivor has brought new challenges. Doubling your work time has brought new challenges. Fearing you can’t do all the gardening you did previously is causing anxiety.
Maybe you need an appointment with a mental health specialist. Or a new shipment of yarn. I’d be lost without both.
Please, take a breath. You don’t have to be SuperWoman. The costume is seriously ugly and needs to be redone in stranded color work.
Hugs from across the pond.
The Twisted Yarn says
Teresa, as I’ve said a million times before, thank you for such a warm-hearted response. No I didn’t sell any crocheted cowls – I like to give away the samples to friends and neighbours because there’s realistically a limit to how many cowls a woman can usefully own! Thank you for your compassion about my circumstances, even if I don’t deserve it! As for mental health, I’m quite CBT/schema-focused and can use that stuff on myself, but must admit that I’d love to have some psychodynamic therapy to address a few things. Need to earn a few more pennies for that!
You’re awesome. May your yarn never tangle and may you never lose a hook/needle down the back of the sofa. Px
The Twisted Yarn says
kayT, yikes that sounds scary. And… yikes. I’ve had a lung x-ray and am awaiting more test shenanigans. Why can’t I be 20 and invincible again?! I seriously hope that you’ve had the best possible treatment and are OK?
Barbara Stafford says
Do you really have a large stuffed giraffe in your living room or is that some clever CGI effect?
And your waffle looks scrumptious!
The Twisted Yarn says
Yup, giant giraffe is real. Well, not a real living giraffe, but you know what I mean. I bought it in Oxford from a hospice shop when the twinnage were tiny, so tiny that they could sit on its back without it suffering. And I brought it home on the bus which caused much hilarity with a bus driver who wanted to charge for an extra ticket. The twinnage have outgrown it but it kinda fits in and we want it to stay. These days it mostly holds running race medals… except when it’s called on to model cowls.
As for the waffle compliment, thank you!
Sharon says
The cowls look lovely, the hellebores lovelier still, and I’ve delivered things around estates based on leaf skeletons. Seriously, those where the named road is round the back and the houses face onto (unnamed ‘greens’) are proper brain-exercisers as well as extra walking. Give me flat-front-to-pavement Victorian Terraces, for delivery purposes, any day!
Also give me the pink hellebores, please. We saw them at a local Gardens Saturday. Alas, while the adjoining Garden Centre had a pink Pussy Willow, it did not have pink hellebores. Something to aspire to I expect.
I don’t generally ‘do’ cowls, I tend to run to hot, even a good decade on from menopause (& once that really has passed, it’s WONDERFUL) but I could just see some of those patterns adapted for jumpers. Except I already have three jumpers on the needles, WIPs at various stages, & really should get on and finish at least one of them.
Ah well, RAIN forecast for the rest of the week. Maybe I’ll make a re-start. Or maybe I’ll re-decorate that orange kitchen. Hmmmm, Decisions!
The Twisted Yarn says
Goodness, I so love your post. If you’re serious about the pink hellebores and if you’re in the UK, then email me your address and I’ll attempt in an incompetent way to chop my plant in half and send you some.
Am intrigued about the leaf skeleton deliveries: please explain more!
You’re awesome, and thank you for your words here.
Molly Watson says
I have only ever made one cowl, it is the blue one with the yellow stars! I say no more, except…….take care of yourself and don’t do too much!
By the way I love all your colours and your skeleton leaves!!! 🌻
The Twisted Yarn says
Aww, you’re awesome! We’re clearly on the same page politically. I hope that one day we get what we want.
Anne says
I thought the leaf skeleton was lace, actually! And quite lovely lace.
The Twisted Yarn says
Yes, it’s beautiful! It looks to me like a map of several of the new housing estates around here.
DOREEN MELLOR says
Your lovely contributions to your fellow humans always inspires.
Seeing so many cowls, specially on a giraffe neck, has inspired me to make one or two, having never had a cowl wish in my life before. But of course that wasn’t the inspiration I meant in my opening sentence. I meant that your clever, funny, warm and creative generosity inspires in so many directions. It’s a balm and a blessing to know that there is still plenty of goodness in our world, despite the sadness and sorryness of some parts of it. Lacy leaf skeletons and hellebores help too.
Look after yourself.
The Twisted Yarn says
Doreen, THANK YOU. And yes, whilst there are hellebores and leaf skeletons, the world cannot be entirely bad. Thank you for such warm-hearted words, and I’m smiling that you’re making cowls.
Shar says
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love the giraffe! Are you sure you have to give any of those cowls away? Won’t the giraffe miss them, and get strep (stripped) throat? That’s a bad thing on that throat. You wouldn’t do that to such a sweet little thing!
P. S. You aren’t feeling sorry for yourself, you are being realistic. That’s a lot of work hours, plus homemaking, taking care of twins and spouse, garden, yarn, and possibly the occasional hour of sleep??? Yep, just realistic. Rest well, and craft when you can. We love your stuff!
The Twisted Yarn says
Sleep? Pah, sleep is for the weak.
But yes, I need to safeguard the giraffe’s strep/stripe throat!
Thank you for such a lovely comment.
Kim Miller says
I have to tell you that your blog is the only one I ever read all the way through. You always put a smile on my face. Also I’m still up for that crochet cowl when ever you finish. You didn’t talk me out of it.
The Twisted Yarn says
Aww Kim, you’re kinder than I deserve! The crocheted version of the cowl is nearly here.
Sally says
I started reading your blogs because of the knitting content but enjoy them for lots of other reasons too, not least because they are so beautifully written.
The Twisted Yarn says
Sally, thank you. I don’t deserve such generosity of spirit, but thank you. You’re very welcome here.
Lindsey says
I love hearing from you anytime but featuring a giraffe has made this day extra special. I have a friend in California that has an outdoor sculpture of a tall giraffe that I lusted after. You’re my kind of gal…except for the running.
Do take care of yourself. You spread joy every time you post
The Twisted Yarn says
And you spread kindness through your lovely comment. Thank you,
I LOVE the sound of your friend’s giraffe sculpture! There’s a lifesize metal hippo visible through some very very expensive gates on one of my running routes and… wow.
Booplebum says
Happy pancake day! (liked the mouth watering waffles pic btw) Beautiful cowls, you may be tired of them, but they’re fresh to my eyes – look great displayed ‘en masse’ :o)
Hope you get to take a breather soon (literally and metaphorically!) & don’t get buried under a pile of yarn and other stuff!
The Twisted Yarn says
Aww, thank you for every word of this! I’d share pancakes and waffles afar if I could. I hope you had an awesome pancake day.
Spooky says
You are a healer, dear Phil. You care and nurture and grow. You make and feed and tend to your house, family and community. The creativity in your soul has enabled you to gather folk to you and spreads love of your work and your endeavours. You see? It’s all linked.
Crochet and knitting is a comforting craft, I believe. I wonder if some of your patients would appreciate a group craft therapy? Your cowls could be given to your patients to snuggle into and feel loved.
I think you’re marvellous, my lovely, and I cannot wait for the long anticipated crochet version of your cowl <3
The Twisted Yarn says
Oh goodness, you’re several degrees kinder than I deserve, but thank you. Seriously. I try my best but it’s not all that much. As for one of your suggestions, two dear colleagues of mine have started a craft group for neurodivergent people and it’s rightly been a huge success. These two colleagues are fabulous.
Patty says
Please be well.
The Twisted Yarn says
Thank you so much. May fortune favour you too.
Debbie Braden says
Recovery can take a long time. Listen to your body. I too have had estrogen positive breast cancer but that is not what took my breath away. My thyroid gland took my breath and an inhaler did not help the exercise induced asthma I thought I had. So have the doc check your thyroid gland the next time you are in for a visit, you just never know. Wishing you well.
The Twisted Yarn says
Hi Debbie. Yikes, your words give me pause for thought. To a fellow cancer survivor, please may you remain well indefinitely. But thanks for the thyroid advice – I need to talk to my GP again, don’t I?
Friedrich Dietrich says
After a large number of products that he has prepared with creativity and dedication, we can understand the difficulty and fatigue of the designer. This honest approach helps us to understand the realities and challenges of the design process. As a result, this outspoken comment allows us to further appreciate the passion and commitment of the designer to his work.
Rebecca Eveland says
(Am a month behind in everything – intractable R, L, forehead and R real migraine.)
So, please know how welcome your photos were of present and just past projects, as inspiration has been badly needed. This installation served to inspire on several fronts, as did the first photo in the last post of Jack & Hunter, who almost appear a gorgeous chocolate brown, in that lighting, just as my awesome Burmese Nigel did. Waiting for the crochet pattern, as I know I’ll whiz through that one, with my granddaughter eagerly waiting for it as well (she’s learning now and is a whiz at popcorn sts.) BTW, thank you ever so much for displaying the wrong side of one of your cowls. I’ve crocheted with carrying, but know that some out there may not have yet and your visual is a great learning tool. Here’s hoping we can all dry out soon. Glad to see something is blooming for you. We had a long, cold, icy winter, so nothing is blooming yet (3/11/24), which is indeed late…not even one grape hyacinth! My goodness, I did ramble…
The Twisted Yarn says
Thank you Rebecca! I’ve finally finished all the samples for the crocheted cowl, and I’ll be publishing soon. There might be a little competition with Stylecraft’s generous involvement coming soon…
And yup, here’s to drying out and warming up really soon. And may your granddaughter never lose her love for crochet.