Skyscrapers and String

Bad Ishbel!

18,000 people have knit the Ishbel shawl designed by Ysolda Teague. I consider myself to be a hardy knitter, one that has no fear, I’ve knit a dozen or so shawls, and I’ve always wanted one of these, so why not cast on?

The usual stocking stitch middle rapidly completed, and I suddenly had the right number of stitches. I paused at this point to make a swatch of the lace pattern. I threw 40 or so stitches onto spare needles, knit the lace pattern for a few repeats, and thought, ok, let’s go!

But no. Something happened. Ishbel is naughty to me! The pattern has a mind of its own. What in everybody’s paws but mine turned into an elegant swirl of leaves, ended up resembling some kind of computer code. There is a kind of diagonal velocity which reminds me of “the Matrix”, a film notable for some horrid jumpers with deliberate holes ripped into them. It made me shudder each time one of these hideous garments appeared on screen.

Here you can see it. I am so ashamed. I still wore it out today, the yarn is gorgeous!






This weekend I have been sorting my craft corner. I love my little chest of drawers, my shelves full of wool, my folders of favourite patterns.

I have so many things to make for Christmas, and so many ideas for designs. My “little Loop” in my front room, next to my knitting chair is all ordered and ready for me to start! I am really happy.

Today we went for a long walk. I slept until 8.45am and now I am going to put dinner on – chicken cooked in sweet red wine with thyme, onions, fennel and carrot, then go up for a nap. Once it is cooked the smell will waft up the stairs and wake me up lol!

Now I am knitting a scarf for my friend’s son, it’s his birthday this week.


I feel like I am getting my act together. My parents have been in touch with social services and they’re not driving any more, which is good. They still don’t ever ring me but I do call them to check they’re ok. Next Saturday I’m going over to help my Dad get to grips with online shopping. My Mum keeps packing boxes thinking she is moving house, Dad sounds like he’s at his wit’s end.

It struck me that although I had no happy memories of them as a child or growing up or as an adult, and they certainly were evil and horrid to dump my Grandad, now they are being relatively nice to me and at least I can start to build some less bitter associations in my mind relating to them, which must be good for my own well being and mental health.

It’s two years on the 26th November – next week – since I lost my Grandad. I’ll never replace him. I know he is looking down and he must be pleased to see how much he is remembered and thought of. Dear Grandad.



Trackbacks & Pingbacks


  1. * itwasjudith says:

    I also lost my granddad about the same time ago. I still have vivid memories of him.
    We keep good people in our hearts


    | Reply Posted 5 years, 1 month ago
    • * jengolightly says:

      Oh I am so sorry for your loss! What kind words! Thank you! Xxxx


      | Reply Posted 5 years, 1 month ago

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