Chickens for the Soul...

“Roads are no place for naive chickens dreaming of nirvana.”

― Shalom Auslander, Hope: A Tragedy

I think on occasion, I have spoken of our friendly chickens, at home on the farm. We have six hens, one rooster and two peacocks. They are a great family addition, not only for their extensive egg production but they are funny. The hens are a positive in the household. They are treated well, are completely free range, allowed to eat grass, flowers, herbs, insects and freely roll around in the turf shed, whenever the dog will allow it. 

It’s heartbreaking when reading about the horrific conditions of battery hens. Well, I was delighted to see my fellow, favourite knitter, Pauline McGlynn doing her part in helping ex-battery hens, find their feet on real ground. Pauline has created a fantastic range of knitted sweaters to hens, who are recuperating and adjusting to life in the real world It’s a wonderful story and so fitting! 

Jumpers for hens!

Half Empty?...

That was one of the virtues of being a pessimist: nothing was ever as bad as you thought it would be.

James Jones

Now, I don't personally consider myself a pessimist, however, today was a pessimists nightmare. It all started out beautifully with bright sunshine, winter warmth and fallen leaves. There was nothing wrong, the fridge was full and I felt like a good walk in the woods. Cue the change where our unique climate turned and stuck its tongue out and bawled its eyes out leaving things wet, cold and slippery underfoot as I made my way back from my walk. I had found the perfect location for a winter wonderland photo shoot suitable for that next ever optimistic day.

With the rain stopping the photography short, I recalled some images from my collection of baby wear which continue to be a super success and a big ‘yeah’ from all the Alpaca swaddled babies. 

Me, Myself & Why?

“Why was I holding on to something that would never be mine? But isn't that what people do?”

― Bret Easton Ellis, Lunar Park

As the door opened, a quick crash, smash and jump backwards happened. I had forgotten that last night, the Iron had fallen sideways, knocking over some glass jars in the opposite side of the press (under-the-sink cupboard where everything goes). That jar, unfortunately, passed to jar heaven, was given as a gift, holding Italian Hot Chocolate made with real chocolate from the cake shop, where the giver, worked. I drank the chocolate and kept the jar. Like almost everything that comes from Italy, this too, was so damn pretty.

Seeking Shade in Chocolate

Now that jar sits in the recycling bin, wrapped in newspaper.

Was I holding onto the jar? ….or the person who gave the jar of hot chocolate? Or was just holding onto the memory. I’m not a hoarder but I have kept obscure items with no rationality. Why keep them? There are photographs of benches, bus tickets from decades ago, and dried flowers. It’s like a network of memories, which keep the person. 

Keeping the memories is important if only to serve one purpose. Remind you who you are? A jar, however, may not be the safest place to hold that thought.

I thought this was an interesting take:
http://www.prospectmagazine.co.uk/magazine/is-there-such-a-thing-as-the-self

I still love you Bilbo Baggins...and you, Kili

" I have no use for people who exhibit manners."
Amy Vanderbilt

Finally, I got to watch The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug. Needless to say, I loved it.  It's story about another world full of strange characters, adventures, lots of running, archery and lots of hair! Not so unlike my own world! Mind fluffy knits and orcs don't really match up. Nevertheless, The Hobbit is a great story, simple and almost childlike, and visually, the film carries itself.

And then there is the cast. Where do I start. Bilbo is still my sworn mate. He would be if I lived an alternate life, born into the world of The Shire, was a shorter lady and talked in a Northern accent. The rest just writes itself.  Despite our compatability, the damn Hobbit keeps strange company and disappears alot. What’s a girl of the Shire to do? Move on, I’d say.

http://www.hollywood.com/news/movies/46233510/the-hobbit-making-sense-of-kili-the-hot-dwarf?page=all

Kili has been described as “reckless” by his mother and god knows that’s always a good chat up line, to get the ladies going his way. It worked for Evangline Lily and it worked for me. It may be out of the frying pan and all that, but still, I only have the attention span of a ...oh, who’s that?

It's not you....it's Kili!

I love you Bilbo Baggins...the original love story.

Martin on the Moon

As soon as one promises not to do something, it becomes the one thing above all others that one most wishes to do.

Georgette Heyer

“I will be here a year, from next month”, I said to a colleague, just as a decent pile of folded sweaters tumbled off the edge of the table, onto the floor. “ A year well spent, Isobel”, retorted my colleague, and walked away. While my knitted Rabbits and Beanie Bears do harbour a good chunk of my day, I do also hold a part time, day job. I work in a sweater shop (though not to be mistaken with a sweat shop). Then again…

So this time management, self-analysis, micro magnetic, connecting the dots thing is not a blaring beacon on my radar but, I get there eventually.

My Dream Life

The day usually begins with breakfast and a mouthful of emails. Followed by a cup of tea. Then I check my plan for today, written yesterday and strategically try to follow it, presently. In theory, it all works out brilliantly but in reality a little bit of my life sneaks back in and creates chaos.

Like Mum rings or I ring her. A friend wants to meet up for a chat or it’s like, I don’t care, I’m already there! So, plans get messed up.

What I need is a mindset shift. If I prioritise the fun and scale back the importance of work…ta dah! Would it happen that suddenly the pile of armless teddies would soon be real Teddies? Or would I screw the system and find more loop-holes than a Granny Square? I’ve already answered that question. 

One day.... it will happen!

It's a Walk in the Park...

“Why was I holding on to something that would never be mine? But isn't that what people do?”

― Bret Easton Ellis, Lunar Park

As the door opened, a quick crash, smash and jump backwards happened. I had forgotten that last night, the Iron had fallen sideways, knocking over some glass jars in the opposite side of the press (under-the-sink cupboard where everything goes). The said jar, that this morning, passed to jar heaven, was given as a gift, holding Italian Hot Chocolate made with real chocolate from the cake shop, where the giver, worked. I drank the chocolate and kept the jar. Like almost everything that comes from Italy, this too, was so damn pretty.

Now its sits in the recycling bin, wrapped in newspaper.

Was I holding onto the jar? ….or the person who gave the jar? Or was just holding onto the memory. I’m not a hoarder but I have kept obscure items with no rationality. Why keep them? There are photographs of benches, bus tickets from decades ago, and dried flowers. It’s like a network of memories, which keep the person.

The Self(s) 

I thought this was an interesting take :

http://www.prospectmagazine.co.uk/magazine/is-there-such-a-thing-as-the-self

Waiting for my clothes

You never realize how much of your background is sewn into the lining of your clothes.

Tom Wolfe

That scraggy cat from next door has just left and I hadn’t even noticed her enter the room. Her hair is missing in patches and she walks at a tilt. She’s no beauty but apparently, she is loved. Today, at this moment, I look like her. It has been a busy week with tossy nights sleep. I sit in my writing pose....poised sideways, V shaped, across an armchair with legs hoisted up on the couch. I’m dressed in scraggy jumper with parts missing and jogging pants. Minus the jogging.

What she needs

What I need

Oooh...life is good. Who cares what you look like when the only pair of eyes looking at you is wearing herself worse than you. We are beyond equal.

So, new attire has been in need for a while. At least for the knitted  Boogle Bunch. There was much talk and kerfuffle regarding the attire worn/ or not by my first samples. A need for clothing was discussed and much chat overheard, generally late at night. It would seem, knitted toys can be just as opinionated as the rest of us. Having taken one look at their creator, heads dropped and were shook slowly, with drawn breaths.

I give up!

Okay, so  how about an Autumnal look for the coming season? You get over Summer pretty quickly when it’s all rain and shuffling around in light jackets. A little taste of what The Boogles can expect....Tah Dah!

I like it! 

Mmmm....