Apologies for the shorter blog this week, but, like the pictures, it’s all being done on my iPhone – which is brilliant little device, and I don’t know where I’d have been without it (literally, as it’s got both maps and a location device), but it’s not conducive to hammering out reams of deathless prose.
More tangible progress this week, the advantages of clean living and a non-existant social life. The pattern is slowly becoming clearer too: to paraphrase the late composer Vaughan Williams, I don’t know if I like it, but it’s what I meant!
Still no computers at work, but we now have telephones so I’m not complaining. And the sun is shining as I peck this out so I can say of Edinburgh, as the hobbits say of Fangorn, that I ‘almost felt I liked the place’.
Proper blog next week, by which time I’ll be a whole year older…
During a busy day at the office (yawn) I came across a reference to a gansey knitted down to the knees in order to be doubled up so as to provide extra insulation for the kidneys.
This sounds intriguing. Perhaps it came out wrong in the wash? But why not go the whole hog and knit a ‘knee gansey’ along with gansey socks and a hat? I was also intrigued to read in Compton about folk, in the past, keeping old umbrellas in cupboards so they could fashion new gansey needles from the spokes, and the same with bicycle wheels.
Forgive my earlier mocking tone. This is the reason I admire the gansey craft so much. Not only are they beautiful garments, but they remind us of the skill, ingenuity and craft of the folk who made them in days past. They were made out of necessity. But, unlike today, as well as the in-built functionality, they made sure they produced beautiful garments. There’s something very noble in it.
So this is the challenge for those with plenty of time. Knit a ‘knee gansey conglomerate’ using only umbrella and/or bicycle wheel spokes. You shall be excused gathering and dyeing the wool yerself!
The gansey is becoming recognizable. I’d love to know where the reference to a knee-length gansey can be found. Is it in Compton? If so, which book? Many of the photographs show a wide ribbing turned up, but I just assumed that it was because, well, ribbings turn up.
Happy birthday!
I haven’t come across the knee-length reference, or if I have I haven’t remembered. Unless it was in a Harry Potter book and referred to Mrs Weasley’s jumpers! You see a lot of doubled-up ganseys in the old photos, usually just the welts turned up – I always assumed this was either to make wearing those big waterproof trousers easier, or just to get the gansey out of the way of their work. Do the kidneys need extra insulation? (If so, in my case nature’s taking care of it in a middle-age spread kind of way…)
Thanks for the birthday greetings! Another year older and deeper in … something.
Gordon