This was the view from my study window on a typical day. It was midday by the way, not dawn or dusk.
And this was a dawn view from the upstairs sitting room. You can just see the sun trying to break through the icy fog.
Now I do realise that this petty little shimmy of less than perfect weather will make many of you laugh hollowly - especially those of you in Canada, Alaska, Maine... We, however, are so unused to it that it nearly drove us mad. One chilly night, one or two bouts of frost are all we ever get, before returning to the normal mild damp and drizzle.
So we were mightily pleased to see the sun yesterday and today. Still pretty cold, but at least there was blue sky. The roads were packed with relieved families getting out to shop, to socialise, to get the fresh air. Let's hope we've seen the last of the ice and snow. (The last of the rain? Ah don't be silly. That's a given. How do you think we keep so green?)
Oh while I think of it, a few people (including Laurie M) asked to see a closer view of the Polperro jacket, so here it is. Still quite pleased with it, and wearing it constantly (which is more than can be said for every Celtic Memory project - bet I'm not the only one with a few horrors in the closet over which endless time and money were expended).
But that project is well finished, and by way of finding something to do during those enforced days when cabin-fever threatened, I became a new pupil at Hogwarts - that is, I joined the Harry Potter Knitting & Crochet House Cup group on Ravelry. (Slytherin House of course). The first homework I undertook was for the Divinations class, where we had to make something to protect the palms of the hands.
I thought fingerless gloves would be about right, and they suited the bleak weather very well. Silk cashmere from the stash, hand-dyed in my favourite violet and used double. These are based on the lovely Cabled Fingerless Gloves by Kimberly, but I adapted the stitch count and the cable pattern a bit.
Here's the fun bit - since they emphasised protection of the palm, I put a tiny pocket on the palm of each glove, suitable for the tucking in of some powerful herb. In times of real danger, both hands can be raised with the palms outwards, thereby knocking any evil influence for six. I've hardly taken these off since completing them. Not so much to protect against bad spirits as to keep my hands warm. Why did I ever mock fingerless gloves? They're wonderful, even at the keyboard.
Tried something new for me on this project - some delicate beading to emphasise the curving edge of the scarf. Added the beads with the final row of colour, just using a very very fine crochet hook to pull the stitch through each bead. A lot of fun. Must do some more beading.
There is always the chance of coming across something unexpected like this little length of old stone wall right in the middle of the trees, on its own, keeping its counsel about what it's doing there. Me, I think there is probably a private entrance leading from that dark little gap at its base to the nice warm tree behind. And very probably a leprechaun or a clurichaun tapping away inside, keeping busy with orders from the Good People for dancing slippers to see in Imbolc or Brigid's Day at the beginning of February. Gold satin for the Queen, better make sure they're ready by tomorrow night or there'll be ructions. High heeled red shoes for that wan, who does he think he is, cocking himself up like that? Where did I put those buttons? And didn't I have a bit more of that green leather left?
I know I've shown you Torc before, and indeed admitted before that the world holds many larger, more splendid examples of waterfalls. What I love about this one though is the way it is cradled in such luxuriant greenness, with ivy and brambles and bushes and trees reaching out and dipping their fingers in the crashing water all the way up to the top. It's at its best after rain, sometimes even three days after, since it takes quite a while for all the water to drain from the mountains down into the rivers.