Back on it

I've been making an effort to set aside some crochet time of late. Remember the weather blanket? I've been playing catch-up with that.

I'm currently up to mid-September and have just hit a big long stretch of bright blue. 

It's good remembering late summer warmth on these chilly days when the temperature is hovering around zero. Looking back through my diary, I'm reminded how great September was: Erik arrived and there were warm, sunny hacks with Bailey (when I was still just his sharer).

We may have started the week with snow, but I did manage to squeeze in a bright sunny hack today on the Ginger Beast. Funny how all you need is one bright day to feel like Spring is just around the corner. That said, Hector's not taking any chances...

The mercury will need to rise a bit further before we can prise him out from under the duvet! I expect he'll appreciate another blanket being added to the collection...

Out of Season

I know it's typically British to talk/complain about the weather, but I am a Brit, so for those of you reading this on distant shores, bear with me.

Oh my giddy aunt it's HOT!

Sweltering hot. And the storms! I seem to have woken up to lightning more times than not in the last week.

Being a pale-skinned northerner, I am suffering somewhat. The regular slathering-on of factor 50 means that I have trouble gripping my gin and tonic in my suncreamed hands and if I walk anywhere, I have to flit, ninja-like, from one shady patch to another. Is it any wonder I am in denial? The only suitable place for me to be from now until circa mid-September is in a giant freezer, so this last week I've been indulging in a spot of out-of-season snowboarding at the Snozone in Milton Keynes. I had this last week off and can wholly recommend first thing Monday morning for a quiet zoom down near-deserted pistes with no lift queues. Oh, and an ambient temperature of -5. Hurrah!

My crochet is also in firm denial. Normally at this time of the year I am making small things: baubles, appliques, cards, things that you can make in a jiffy between scoffing ice lollies. Not this year.

If you follow me on Instagram, you'll know I've become a tad obsessed with the v-stitch (check out Le Monde de Sucrette's vintage blanket!). Consequently, the only thing coming off my hook at the moment is snoods. I made one for me...

...and liked it so much, I decided to add a couple to the shop...

...because that's just what people are shopping for in 30 degree heat: snoods!

*sigh*

Spring

There's no getting away from it, Spring has marched through the door here at The Hookery and announced itself in no uncertain terms. There are flowers in the garden, cats sunbathing in patches of warm sunlight and today I worked in the garden. Not gardening, no (alas). I sat at my laptop, doing my day job, out in the garden.

Cat #2 kept me company, as did a particularly fat bumblebee and a selection of birds on the feeders (who don't half make a mess of the flowers beneath!).

I am resigned to the fact that for (I think) the first time in my life, I have had a snow-less Winter. I have to admit, it feels strange. Everything seems slightly out of kilter and a bit like we've skipped ahead a month or two, or like Autumn has lasted for the longest time ever.

Still, it's hard not to get that tingle of excitement when the shops are full of daffodils and tulips, and there are scruffy, fluffy bluetits swooping to and fro.

Lately...

It's been a bit grey here of late. In fact, we've had some spectacular foggy mornings. I like fog. Admittedly, it makes the commute a little more er...interesting, but it has a similar quality to snow in that it somehow quietens everything and makes it seem still and peaceful, even as you're whipping along the M1 in the commuter traffic.  Of course, one problem with dark foggy mornings which clear into prematurely dark afternoons is that there's not much light to photograph things in. I did promise you the chance to give the recent granny blanket a proper ogling, but so far, no pics. Sorry! 

In other news, and possibly related to the prevalence of fog, I have finally bought paint for the sewing room. Grey. Not the purple-y grey that I inherited (see below), but just plain grey. In fact, imagine the colour of the wall in the pic below, but without the purple-y tones.

These are egg cosies, by the way. I am already thinking of Easter. I have even managed to list them. Next up on the making list is more rabbits (do you remember Bunner from a couple of years ago? I'm hoping he'll make a reappearance in the new shop). And I'm still plodding on with the baby jumper pattern - it was road-tested on a real baby at the weekend, so they'll be in the shop soon too!

Oh, and there has been a birthday.

Yes, again.

It doesn't feel all that long since the last one.

Surely not a whole year?

Ah well, these are taking the edge off the shock...

Autumn Sunshine

I love autumn sunshine. It's a precious thing. Spring sunshine is a welcome relief, but you know in the back of your mind that there's plenty more to come. Summer sunshine is like autumn rain or winter snow - exactly what we should expect for the time of year (no comment on traditional British weather...). Winter sunshine is something different altogether - sharper, harder, piercing. But autumn sunshine is a treasure. It appears unexpectedly between grey, soggy days to set golden trees aglow and dapple the undergrowth with gentle auburn rays.

And I don't need to slather myself in factor 50 to enjoy being outside in it.

Summer lovin'

Blue skies, bright colours and flowers.  It's supposed to be a bit grey this weekend, so I thought I'd post a splash of spring/summer to keep things upbeat.

Waking up

Yawn!

Gosh, I feel like I've been asleep for a long, long time. It was very much needed though, this little snoozy break. Tying up a few loose ends at the day job and clearing the decks so that I could catch up with myself.

This last couple of days, it feels like I've finally woken up. Not just opened my eyes every morning, but thrown off that grey, worn-at-the-edges, perma-tiredness of a winter which outstayed its welcome and properly woken up. Much like the garden.

Instead of hopeful little green shoots, there's full-blown colour bursting forth. Blossom is on the trees, the swallows are back, there are bees buzzing and even butterflies flexing their wings in the sunshine. I saw an orange tip the other day. I've never seen one before - the butterflies from my childhood were all either red admirals, painted ladies or common blues. Alas, it fluttered off before I had a chance to grab my camera.

These little white flowers (alyssa?) have started to appear in one of my hanging baskets. They're such tiny flowers, but their scent is heavenly. They smell like honey. I can't wait for them all to bloom.

And of course, there has been crochet. Just a little bit.  Nothing too taxing.

More on that anon...

Mr Blackbird

We've had some funny old snow this weekend. It hasn't stuck to the roads or to my yard, but the hedgerows, trees and fields are laden with it and it's drifted in strange corrugated mounds all along the verges to give the roads a sort of frilly edge.  Pretty as it is, it means the birds have had to be more daring than usual in their search for a meal.

I have a window bird feeder which the birds take advantage of in the early mornings (when cat #2 is not allowed outside). It's usually pretty quiet during the day, with the exception of Christopher Robin and Jenny Wren who are fearless and think nothing of chirping insults at cat #2.  This weekend I had a new visitor.

He'd start off in the big snowy tree back there, checking that cat #2 wasn't around. Then nonchalantly hop along the fence, edging closer to the kitchen window.

One last check to make sure the coast was clear and...

...WUMPH!  Dart in to the feeder, gobble down a few suet pellets and snatch a mouthful to take back to the tree.

In other news, I spent a lot of time sitting on the kitchen floor this weekend, holding my camera as still as possible over the kitchen sink. At one point, both arms were rather numb.

How was your weekend?

Hunkering down

It's *still* freezing out there. Parts of the UK are blanketed in snow, so I should be grateful that we've escaped that, but oh my! That wind! When it blows in my face I have to check that my ears are still there!

This time last year, I was wearing sunscreen.

Anyway, it's perfect blanket-making weather, so I've been hunkered down under one blanket, while making another.  That nice coral yarn is making me think summery thoughts. I keep reminding myself that March is supposed to be 'in like a lion, out like a lamb'.  There's not much of March left, so the lamb-like days can't be far away!

Wherever you are, I hope you're all warm and snug!

Struggling

It's been a funny old few days at The Hookery. We had such a beautiful start to last week with warmth and sunshine and all the farmers busy in the fields round about so that the smell of freshly-turned earth was in the air. There was no doubt about it: spring had sprung. Or so I thought.

Fast forward one week and the temperatures have plummeted. This is the view outside my office today:

Pale blue skies and bobbles of cloud. It looks like it could be spring. It's not. It's FREEZING. It's the type of cold that slices through you, that makes the world seem brittle and crisp. The type of cold I usually like. In December.

Having had a glimpse of the spring weather last week, even I, lover of snow and ice that I am, am ready for some sunshine and warmth now. I treated myself to some freesias. Every morning I take a good sniff of their fresh, slightly peppery fragrance before I open the door and try to convince myself that this is the last day of cold.  It's a serious effort of will.

On the other hand, if I get a move on with the knitting, I'll at least get some wear out of those scarves this side of summer...

Fancy a walk?

I got home early the other day and it was just too nice to sit indoors. Or indeed, to sit still.  Happily, there are lots and lots of public footpaths through the fields round about, perfect for a late afternoon stroll...

 
Don't mind the cows, but do watch where you put your feet. I'd hate for you to step in Something Nasty...

There's some good eating in the hedgerows at the moment!

In fact, I spent so long picking fruit, the sun had started to set over the stubble fields.

Who left that there?  The cottage is at the bottom of this overgrown path.  I'd have shown you where, but when I got there I was welcomed enthusiastically by a neighbour's dog and I quite forgot to take a snap. There were pats and strokes and tummy-rubs instead.  The dog got some attention too (kidding!).  Ah well, next time.

Soggy

I should start by saying that I'm one of those weirdos who actually quite likes the rain.  I think it comes from growing up in the North.  Most people's childhood memories include endless summers of blue skies and sunshine.  Mine tend to be more along the lines of sitting in the lee of a dry stone wall on a moor somewhere, eating Marmite sandwiches and waiting for the worst of the rain to pass.  Not all of the rain mind, just 'the worst of it'.  At some point (usually when the thermos and tupperware had been emptied), my mother would declare that the rain was falling at a suitable pace for children to play in and we would bound after a football or a frisby which had been snatched from our grip by the howling wind.  I was no less happier than any other child for spending so much time in wellies and a cagoule.  Who cares about the driving rain when you have an entire moorland to yourself?  Plus, I'm ginger.  This complexion wasn't made for the blazing sun.

I've been thinking a lot of those days out on the moors in the drizzle lately.  Sitting on my steps with a cup of tea, watching the rain, wishing I could convince someone to play frisby in the wet...  It has been a bit damp here at The Hookery this week.

But there's someting quite cosy about being holed-up with a fresh mug of hot tea while the rain hammers down outside.

And despite the leaden skies and puddled landscape, the fuschia by the front door has done a sterling job of remaining cheery and bright.  It's friend the clematis (who seems to like having cold damp feet) has also put on an impressive growth spurt.  The seedlings however were just looking a bit too wet.  In the end, I had to bring them in for a day or two to give them a break.

And to amuse myself, I did a spot of yarn-sorting. 

Just the cottons.  I can't quite face the wools yet!

 

Seeing them all arranged by colour like this...

 ...is making me want to start a blanket.  A really big ripple-y one.