Must. Not. Buy.

Oh dear. Following a visit to the neurologist, I'm sitting here going: "I so need to buy myself some yarn as a treat." I don't exactly lack yarn, so I'm guessing that I've fallen into the trap of so many other crafters: buying supplies as a substitute for actually making something. Or perhaps I just really want something new and shiny to pet. Both? The neurologist visit was surprisingly constructive although I find it difficult to explain exactly how it was constructive. I'm having some bloodwork done and am scheduled in for another MRI scan. It feels as though I'm finally heading in the right direction.

It is time for tea, some cookies and an afternoon nap. I still need naps, alas.

Airing the Closet

I don't know if anybody's keeping tabs on the Now Reading section of the sidebar. If you do, you will have noticed that it seems to have frozen. Could it really be? Has Ms Bookish given up on reading?

Of course not. I'm just reading books that don't really fit into my usual categories. Yes, I'm reading knitting books. Gasp! Shock! Horror! And when I'm not reading about knitting, I am knitting. Or listening to knitting podcasts. I'm even contemplating setting up a knitting blog because otherwise Fourth Edition might just crumble under the weight of my ruminations on yarn I want, patterns I adore and angsty reflections upon my knitting abilities. You know, same type stuff that I used to blog about at my former blog .. but substitute "first edition books" with "limited edition handdyed yarn".

I'll be mulling over the knitting blog idea for a few more weeks. Days. Hours. Oh sod it, here's a picture of my first sweater. It's colourful. Expect slightly more refined stuff from my hand, though.

PS. Happy and constructive vibes please as I'm seeing a neurologist tomorrow.

Run, Run..

I'm not the only crafty-creative person in this household. Far from it. Other Half has a degree in textiles, after all, and his latest project is customising shoes. These are his Day of the Dead shoes (aren't they fab?):

Speaking of shoes and craftiness, my crafty friend Lilith is going to run a 5k race later this year to raise money for cancer research. If you want to sponsor her, she'd be a very happy bunny. Lilith has even arranged a prize draw which any knitter (or friend of a knitter) should check out.

Stranger Things Have Happened

If somebody could explain to me why I spend an entire day feeling excruciatingly guilty over telling my manager that I'm still ill and, no, I do not know when I'll be back at work, then leave me a comment. I shouldn't feeling guilty for telling the truth but I suspect it's that old authority thing. You know, you see a policeman and you instantly feel like you should be locked up for some crime? Okay, maybe that's just me .. I can't remember where I found this, but it's actually very good: Garfield Without Garfield. Remember that 1980s comic strip about a fat cat and its owner? That comic strip is actually still in circulation back where my parents live. Whenever they send me a parcel, they always wrap things in the local paper* and Garfield's there peeking up at me with some bad pun involving lasagna. Gah. But Garfield Without Garfield is different. There is no fat cat spouting lasagna puns; it's been removed. And the result is a comic strip that's far funnier and stranger than you might expect.

*click only if you are really bored, able to read Danish and have an unhealthy fascination with farming communities.

Yarn Mention Of the Day: I ordered some yarn off teh interwebs thinking it'd be burgundy with a few freckles of pink. It turned out to be chocolate with quite a lot of pink. I feel like I'm knitting with Neapolitan ice cream.. which is bad for my sweet tooth. Mmm, ice cream..

Twitching

Following Friday's unfortunate stroll, I decided I should probably take things easy. What brought it home? It was possibly the fact that when I passed out on Friday, I narrowly escaped having my forehead cut open thanks to broken glass lying on the ground. This time I was lucky and as for next time .. there will not be a next time. I'll be taking things very, very easy from now on. No more marathon computer sessions, no more computer games and I'll try very hard to squeeze as much sleep into my day as I possibly can.

I'm thirty-two, intelligent, out-going and occasionally I'm witty too. And some days I can't even manage the five-minute walk up to the local supermarket. I have no idea what on earth is wrong with me and I am seemingly stuck in a slightly chaotic health care system (apologies to all Britons, but my experience of UK vs Danish heath care definitely gives the Danish heath care system the upper hand - and I've had some pretty dire experiences with Danish doctors in my time). Right now I feel as though my doctor is expecting me to give her a diagnosis - not the other way around. It's quite, quite frustrating.

Also, I am suffering from cabin fever. Know what it's like being stuck in bed with a cold for a week? Try imagining yourself stuck in that situation for a few months. I've begun knitting. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy it but I knit whilst watching Crufts, for heaven's sake. And I wear slippers an awful lot. It is as though my life has decided to skip straight to me being eighty-four.

Good things:
+ A worrying family situation has improved.
+ Other Half has taken up making ice-cream. He is very good at this.
+ Friends and family send me beautiful, beautiful yarn.
+ Doctor Who is back on TV! AND the Ofishul Doctor Who exhibition is coming to Glasgow next year!
+ Elbow's latest album, The Seldom Seen Kid makes me beam.
+ And the daffodils are in bloom, so even if I end up with my face flat on the ground, I can look at pretty things.

Bad Things Not Mentioned Thus Far:
+ I try to knit fingerless gloves for Other Half (using organic Scottish wool - locally sourced too - gosh, I'm such a Guardian reader, am I not?) but I end up hating every thing I knit and frog it mercilessly. Grrr..

On Parcels Expected And Unexpected

Isn't that just pretty?

My Canadian friend, Fearthainn, wrote to me asking for my snail mail when she realised that a) I had rediscovering crocheting and knitting and b) I had fallen ill.

And she has just sent me the most beautiful handspun yarn I have ever seen in my life. Yes, she is a yarn-spinner and a knitter and I'm a bit in awe. I have no idea what I'll make from these skeins of beauty (the picture does not do them justice - trust me) but I'll be beaming like an utter fool whilst knitting. Thank you, C. It may be a small gesture for you, but it means a lot to me.

In other news, my postman might just be a tiny bit scared of me because these past few days I have been eyeing him somewhat obsessively. I pre-ordered the new Philip Pullman from Amazon on March 23. Now I may have mixed up the dates slightly and have been looking forward to the book arriving as early as Tuesday (it's published today, Thursday), so apologies to the postie .. but it also turns out that a certain net-based bookseller has f'd up and I won't get my book until, er, Monday. Do you think if I scare my postman even more, he might be inclined to find the book parcel for me personally and bring it to me sooner than that?

Yes, I know there are bookshops in Glasgow and they'll have it in stock .. but I'm house-bound right now due to me being slightly too active earlier on this week. Boo. Hiss.

At least I have Radiohead playing live on the Beeb streaming through the speakers and so the world's okay and everything is in its right place. Except my book. Which should be in my hand.