Thursday

I have quite lovely warm white walls in my flat.

I have learnt that, when heating Soup with Beetroot in, it's probably a wise idea to use a lid.

Maybe the City isn't trying to kill me.

Every so often, whilst outside, I'll be overwhelmed by feelings of claustrophobia. The idea that the city is pushing in on me, trying to compress and squish and - well.I used to escape by going for a drive out of town, but since I sold my car last year and bought a better bike instead, that's not really an option anymore. And the train service is limited in terms of going to places I want to go to at the time when I want to go.

Sunday, I woke to a message from a friend asking if I wanted her to drop around the first three episodes of GoT2 as she was going for a ride.
I'm going for a ride near your place. I messaged back. How about I grab it from you?
Sure.
Fuck. Meant I'd have to get out of my warm bed and go for a ride. Well, I'd put on  a new cassette the night before and only ridden to the pub. Could do with a more extensive test. And, admittedly, would like to know if I'd actually done it properly. Somehow, it had seemed to go on too quickly, and ease scares me.

So, I rode out, collected my evening's entertainment, and headed across to the Darebin Creek trail. Yep, slightly boring, but rather pretty, and there's paddocks to ride through at the end , and sheep. SHEEP! Good for the soul. (Uncoated though, and only a handful. Hmm)

Back down to the last road crossing, and across to the Merri Creek Trail. Although the concreted paths are not the most exciting, that's ok - it was a great day for riding - drizzling constantly, which meant that hardly anyone else was out. And, just north of Coburg Lake Reserve, was this:

yeah, yeah, shitty phone in the rain shot.

Just glowing back at me.

A couple of hours, so cold by the end that my legs wouldn't work properly (funny how getting wet will increase the chill factor dramatically), and a brief escape. The city's ok.

Mornings

On Saturday, I went out specifically to take some photos of the Native Grass Circle (um, ok). But I arsed around a little long and missed the best time.


This morning  I left for work a bit earlier than normal, and it was glorious. There was just a spot of crispness in the air, not much traffic, and the bellbirds went crazy as my trusty steed and I passed the zoo. (No elephants visible)

Of course, my glasses fogged, the viewfinder fogged, the lens fogged ... but... eh. Just a little bit magic.

Wednesday Ride - Win

Whilst riding yesterday afternoon (the same intended path as as last week) I thought about posts.

I catalogued all the trivial, niggling problems of the day.

I snarked about parents who put helmets on their kids, but not on themselves. (Actually, I am not 'for' the complete mandating of helmet wear that we have. But that's another issue.)

I felt like crap.

And then .... a paddock. And sheep. And a ride across a freshly slashed trail. (Boneshaking, yes.)

Lamb souvlaki, potato scallops and a little later, a pint. Or two.

A good ride.

Wednesday ride - slight fail

I was going to write about a ride up Darebin Creek, back down Merri, that I took on Wednesday. I was going to talk about how lovely some bits were - 

even though this was just nearby.

I would discuss some lovely man made features, such as this bridge -

except I'm still anoyed with myself, because I'd only ridden 14km when I got a flat, and, unusually, didn't have tools/spare/pump/repair kit.

So my ride was shortened, and I walked home. A lazy 13ks. It may have been broken by a stop off for a pint

I'll try again next week.

Cycle outfit object 1: socks

Last week had it's high points. I finished some socks. They're (more or less) Gentleman's Sock for Evening Wear(ribbing, length, shaping and stitch counts changed) and Evening Stockings for a Young Lady from Nancy Bush's Knitting Vintage Socks. They're knit in Wollmeise 100% Merino Superwash.


They're destined to become part of my winter woollen cycling costume, except ... I don't like them that much. I'm not sure if it's because Wollmeise (amd this was my first experience of it, and I was quite excited) is not the most fun too kniw - it feels stringy, which I am not a fan of, or if it's the colour. I will admit, it's a beautiful colour, but ... not sure if it's me.

The thing is  ... I expressed this thought to a friend whilst I was knitting them, and she looked at me oddly.
Your scarf. It's exactly the same colour.
Oh.
And when I was going out the next day, I pulled out a different neck thing ... same colour.

So it's back to the Goldilock Vest for my friend M (it's too big. It's too small. GAHHH).

I'll always be a sook

So.


Cycling is still a big deal for me at the moment.


December 2010, rather than having wine before dinner with the boys I was living with, I went for a run.


Short story: Shattered tibial plateau, detached patella tendon, hospital two weeks, bedridden at home 1 week, hospital 1 week. Couldn't walk unaided until July, couldn't ride until August after a bending procedure.


Once I could move again, it's all I wanted to do. 


(skip to the end...)




So I rode from Lilydale towards Warburton last Sunday, where I learnt a very important lesson: Don't ride when incredibly hungover.


Especially when:

1. You haven't yet been able to have a decent meal;
2. You don't have ibuprofen;
3. You've left your sunnies at home; and 
4. It's hot, so not only are you dehydrated to start, but you're going to continue to sweat like a very sweaty thing.

A very rough bridge. A kid went the other way, making all the noises. At what point do you move from finding bouncing fun to nauseating?

Now, I didn't go all the way - only 30km along. And back. Plus 15 km earlier that morning. Mostly limited by the points above. And the fact it was mostly done one legged. And my bra strap was too tight. Turns out that's important.(Fortunately, although gravel, the trail was smooth enough that it was comfortable enough to ride with it unclipped.)


However, I was disappointed by the urbanity of the trail for the length I did ride. If I'd thought about it more, it would've made more sense - the trail is a RAIL TRAIL and therefore built to service population centres. Although some areas were very pretty (I had lunch/afternoon tea by a very pretty creek that made all the right noises), and it was mostly through paddocks, there was still an awful lot of houses around. As my main reason for going for a ride was to get away from Melbourne, it seems I will have to be more selective. And yes - engage brain, THEN decide.


(I was also disappointed in the lack of signage in Lilydale, you're riding along, you come to an intersection where none of the paths look like a continuation - where do you go? Whilst several places where it was obvious where to go [ie, no alternative] WERE signposted. For all the effort that's been gone too, a couple of extra signs would sure be easy enough. Yes, I had a map. But it would be nice to not have to pull it out constantly - especially as several streets weren't signposted either)


The thing that gets me - my friend K and I rode Bittern - Red Hill and around Sunday before last, and it felt much more rural. (Mind you, we also found a forest and rutted gravel roads. On a hill. That always helps... :) )


But there were carrot flowers. I know it's a weed, but for me, it's a nostalgia inducing one.

All in all? A pleasant ride, but not one I'd do again just to do it... except that there's the aqueduct trail nearby, which I have every intention of checking out soon.

happy new year

Bread. That needs to be baked at 275degC.

Because that's what everyone does when it's 35degC out, right?

yep. shitty phone ohoto. dramas with camera-computer communication

Wednesday

Just had a lengthy argument with my housemate as to whether it's Wednesday or not. ("Is." "Is not". "Is." "Is not." repeat ad nauseus, vis, until you feel sick).

Some days he's not really there, it's no wonder he was confused...¹

¹ weyhey! puntasm time!

untitled*

The Boy and I went to Healesville Sunday afternoon and went for a walk at Badger Creek.

(The photo is not from there.On Sunday the camera hung out in the car. It's from somewhere in the Dandenongs earlier this year. That is dry sclerophyll. Near Healesville is wet. At least, provided I'm remebering correctly from a primary school project I am ).

Two things I was surprised by:

1. Tree ferns! So many! I grew up in the bush (mostly dry sclerophyll, but a little wet- hah! I'm on a roll now) and stag horn, sure, elkhorn, sure, native orchids, sure - but this insane amount of treeferns??? I was blown away. The Boy was, of course (CityBoy) bored.

2. The level of neglect by parks and wildlife. Definitely a contender for the worst kept park that's supposedly "done up" I've been in. Trees that you have to climb over on the paths, paths almost obliterated by regrowth, the non slip surface (ie, chickenwire) on the boardwalking layered in mud and leaves. I'm not complaining -  I was just surprised because at one point it obviously HAS been done up and made more accessible for all types, and now it just seems.... forgotten. Beautiful, though. And the amount of mud there was would've been AWESOME for running.

There's just been people stop outside the front of our house to talk about how ugly it is. I want to know who it was that first thought pebblecrete would be AMAZING as a rendering material. And arches. Because nothing says class quite like a pebblecrete arch.

*gah! I love the fact that, because I couldn't think of what to call it, and decided on "untitled" (because I'm interesting like that) I still had to title it "untitled"

lessons

So.

It seems, if your whipper snipper starts blowing smoke, DON'T stop and let it cool down, KEEP GOING. It's going to die anyway, may as well do it with a cut lawn. And, of course, my housemates are not much inclined to remedy the situation. I think it's understandable that I feel vaguely hard done by - they are all MEN¹ and they should be ept² at this sort of thing. Humph.

The jumper is Idlewood, and I was a bit of an idiot with mine. As in, I didn't check that I had enough wool, and - surprise! - I didn't. So I had to shrink the cowl, shorten the length, and omit the pockets.

But it's pretty rad anyway. Better with longer sleeves, I think.

¹ Feminism? Gender stereotypes? What?

² Not necessarily adept, but, you know, not inept. Ept.

positivity

it's funny how you can know something, how you can talk about something, but how it takes a little while sometimes feel it, bone deep, strong and sure.....

it hit me last night

you live, and then you die. there's no point wasting time in being unhappy


it's freeing

if life were a movie...

and that movie was determined by the clothes you wear...

I like to think that this week it would be a Tim Burton number

not happening, jan

This is not the photo I wanted to put here. But... well. Backstory.

The boys that i live with were playing at the Espy  at one of the Sunday sessions. They wanted to see the other bands as well, so i drove all the gear down for them. (M had to work, T doesn't drive, and A was worried to start with... driving from the North to St Kilda was not something he was counting on to put him in a good mood.)

They weren't playing until 6. We got there around three, the Espy was noisy, I was uninterested, so I went for a walk.

End Backstory.

The clouds were heavy, there was a breeze that may have been referred to as "fresh", although I would have thought of it more as "cold storage" but it was lovely. And then the clouds shifted, and a heavy shaft of sunlight slammed down through the hole. It was magnificent. And I went to take a photo of it (the above was me checking the lighting settings)... and I couldn't. Because those things are always magnificent in person, but after the event, a bit like a photo of a glorious sunrise - attractive, but ubiquitous. So I savoured the moment instead - me, the breeze, my knitting, and the thousand people who thought it worth capturing.

on why svelteness is not an option

There was baklava¹. It whispered to me, cajoling.

I said "no" and stood firm.

It beguiled, begged and teased.

I said "No" and stood firm.

It pleaded, tantalised and taunted.

I said "NO" and stood firm.

"EAT ME!" it roared.

So I did.

¹Yes, I know the picture is not baklava. It was all gone before I got a shot. But a remarkably similar thing happened with the Toblerone.

green.

I finished this green cardigan about a fortnight ago, and have been wearing it fairly solidly since. Not only do I love the colour (bright, but not garish) I have managed to work out a flattering pattern for myself. What I am yet to work out is a successful method of shooting myself (that is, where it is a full shot, in focus, and my head doesn't look  lie it belongs to someone of a smaller species) A. has said he will take photos, but we haven't quite got there yet.

Even a little bit of colour makes a difference - we (myself, A and our friend B) were in the city the other day, and on the corner of Burke and Swanston there was a Social Alliance hoohah, and people were milling everywhere. I lost B, because she was little and in black, but A, with his dull green jumper peeking out from under a natty pinstripe¹ was easy to see².

 ¹It's pinstripe. "Natty" may be superfluous.

² Probably doesn't hurt that he's 6'1", either

something new

A while ago, I made a quilt.

I love it. I love the way it looks, I love the way it snuggles.
And I'm thinking that it's time for a new one. Just a little one, for the lounge. Just to play with colour, to learn a bit more.
And I saw this:

Over here
So now I have a plan.
Huzzah!

Self awareness

Recently, I bought myself a spindle (I had fibre, my wheels were >1000km away...)


I'm not very good at it yet - the spindle drops  with (admittedly, decreasing) frequency. My housemate T asked me why.

In the past, I think I may have come up with some great reasons.


Because I was trying to spin too fine a yarn for the spindle weight.
Because I was distracted by conversation.


The answer I gave?

Because I'm still a bit shit.


Maybe this is what self-awareness is.

Maybe I'm growing up.


(Fibre: Celia's Basket, BFL, Colourway: Grandma's Orchid)

Still have it

I'm not a glamourous girl.

I dress first for comfort, then for looks.
I should probably get someone who isn't me or my housemate M to cut my hair.

So, when we went to see Darren Hanlon over the weekend, and M told me the (quite attractive) guy beside us at the bar was checking me out, I was baffled. ¹

I think it must have been the knitwear.


¹and absolutely tickled.

Beginnings

Grey is sophisticated.
Grey is elegant.
Grey is restrained.
Grey is comfortable.
Grey is safe.

However, on a day like today -

Grey is bleak.

Going into the city reveals a wash of people in black, grey and muddy colours. The overwhelming sense of dullness is not alleviated by splashes of firetruck red -the single, ubiquitous colour fails to raise the mood.

In an effort to kick the grey habit (exemplified by current knitting, below), I have decided to promote colour in my wardrobe, to assign grey to a more minor role.

At least until spring lightness and colour helps kick the bleakness.