Wednesday, 20 February 2008

Flowers for Mam


I made some of these for my Mam’s 56th birthday, she loved them, and has started making some as gifts for her knitting friends. They are also super easy to make!
Use any wool that you like, and pretty much any size needles. I used DK with 3.5mm double pointed needles.

You will need:

Set of 4 dpns (whatever size you’re used to)
Yarn (whatever type goes with your chosen needles)
Tapestry needle
A spare hour or two

Okay here we go:
CO 30 sts. I always cast all my sts onto 1 ordinary needle, then transfer them to the double points as needed. I also CO 1 extra st, then knit the extra st and the first st together.
Divide the sts as 10 on each needle, join, then K 1 round.
K2, P1, K4, P1, K2 – for three rounds.
K until piece is about 1 ½ inches long.
Begin decreases:
K2, K2tog, K2, K2tog, K2.
K 1 round.
K1, K2tog, K2, K2tog, K1.
K1 round.
K2, K2tog, K2.
K2, K2tog, K1.
K1, K2tog, K1.
K1, K2tog.
You’ll now have 2 sts on each needle, cut the yarn leaving a long tail and thread through remaining sts, remove the needles and pull to draw tight. Weave in the yarn.

Now turn it inside out.
Pick up sts along a line, 1 sts every other purl bump.
Slip the first sts of every row, and then stocking sts until piece measure approx 5 inches / 13cm.
Garter stitch (knit every row) for another 2 inches / 6cm.
Cast off (bind off) leaving a long tail.
Now roll the long strip up like a swiss roll, and using the tail of yarn, sew closed at the end which is the bottom of the cup.
Now you turn the cup inside out, push a knitting needle through the middle of the flower and out of the end of the cup, pull down all the way and…

Presto! You have a flower. Make loads and put them in a vase.


Thursday, 14 February 2008

Happy St Vals

Happy St Vals

Love from Andrew xx

Tuesday, 12 February 2008


Two persons stood in the Pillory this Week for Sodomy, and were sadly maul’d.
(Mist’s Weekly Journal – 12th November 1726)

I look to the sun, but it does not warm
as we’re kicked, shoved on to the caravan;
Jeered and debased as the lowest worm.
The frictions of rope at wrist and neck burn,
and I can turn only slightly to watch them;
the murderous mob waiting in the streets.
They don't even know who I am
yet they carry armloads of vegetable rot.
All sound seems to seep away up there
when you're forced to look down.
The light is brighter, even the air
is softer than the finest eiderdown.
Then the first missile is struck in your face, your eye,
and even through the pain, you must not, must not cry.


I held him close,
in the disinfectant chill of the brisk ward.
Like a china plate, close to my face.
Breathed clean smells and wet sighs.

I helped him drink,
had my finger held tightly and milky burps
blown at me from a tiny distance.
Was stared at like a stranger.

I pretended he was my son,
fussed over his flat hair as
the hugest blue eyes focussed,
but only for a second.


It takes an age
for the wheels to stop spinning,
for time to rush back
like air into a vacuum.
The road swerved up into us
and down this embankment,
now we’re stuck in the trees.
I can’t move my neck
but my hands seem to work,
they’re trying to unbuckle the seatbelt.
I feel swallowed, a tunnel through
bent trunks gapes at the motorway.
There are lights, orange and blue.
I can see lights.
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