Skyscrapers and String

Poppy time!

Hello everyone,

I hope you have lots of happy plans for the weekend! I am on the tail end of a massive hangover from Thursday night; my old boss left and he and I are known to egg each other on and I always end up very much worse from wear on wine which I don’t normally drink much of.

The leaving do was funny, such is the climate at the place where I work there were 8 people leaving from the same department on the same day.

Even though I rested up, and relied on many cups of sweet tea and chocolate for breakfast, I was fit for very little.

Thursday was super. knitting club gathered to show the poppies we have made for sale for Help For Heroes.

Here you can see just some of the poppies we’ve made this year:




Here you can see one of the tiny crochet poppies, this year, small is definitely the vogue, all the tiny poppies have been snapped up.


Last year Knitting Club made £860 for Help for Heroes, this year we plan to beat that total! We also get matched funding from our firm, so it does add up.

This week also has been fun on the knitting front, I’ve done the first few rows of my autumn poncho:

It has taken me literally years to find suitable yarn. I am loving how it is turning out already!

Also, Amber spotted that “Cats” is back on in London at the Palladium which Jon has been very keen to go to (handily near Liberty and John Lewis for pre show wool browsing..) so that meant he and Amber spent Monday and Tuesday night searching for tickets online. We found three seats together in the good rows in February after about 7 hours of researching on the theatre booking page. Good luck with that one if you have a mind to go.

My brown Colinette mitts are finished, I managed to get these sweet cabled beauties off the needles yesterday, and sewn up during many episodes of TV, one good thing about a hangover lol!

I was delighted how two long mitts came off one tiny skein, I thought that was great value as they cost £2 each at Ally Pally. I think everyone who went to the show bought some of those, I would love to see what everyone does with their mini skeins! I’ll get some good pictures once we have daylight.

Last weekend I went to visit my Mum who is in a home as she has bad dementia. It was nice to see her. She was smiling and happy, and was pleased to see me.

What a terrifying place though. I was sitting there, Mum had a doll on her lap, and she was tending to it, people with slack faces were shuffling round like zombies and there was a constant backdrop of screaming.

Mum chattered constantly, she doesn’t make much sense, and now she is losing the ability to even use regular words, so the phrases would contain random syllables joined together.

Today is going to be exciting, I am meeting my friend Lesley and we’re heading for Loop. Lesley has this year become proficient in crochet and she requested we visit my favourite shop on earth to buy wool. Once I have finished writing I am going to try to sort mine as I swapped the money I paid for my friend Mary’s ticket to Ally Pally for some red heart shimmer yarn from Deramores. I think I have a bit too much wool now in fact. But it is beautiful!



Just desserts, but still I feel pity

Hello everyone,

I hope you’ve had a super week. Mine has been a week of extremes.

I’ve worked really hard and made great progress at work, I’ve had some really excellent moments, I’ve been picked on and bitched about, and despite having a really bad cough still, I would say, I feel pretty good actually I myself, outlook and attitude wise.

Even more productive than most weeks, I have tidied all my cupboards and wardrobe, and after a year of procrastination, I finally ordered the photos from my holiday last year, and took the opportunity to print those from Sardinia this year too, whilst the iron was hot so to speak, and they came in the post today. I just went out for a walk and bought a new photo album, and look forward to sitting and putting the pictures in the slots.

This week, we met at Knitting Club most days for a good session, and after work on Thursday we visited the Loop knitting club. It was hysterical. I would love to share some of the comic moments in detail with you but, I aim to go back, and fear causing offence. Needless to say, the ladies and gents at the club were lovely, and I was astonished to see so many people relaxed knitting beaded lace of breathtaking complexity and chatting and laughing at the same time.

As anyone who knows me will attest, knitting lace brings out a sternness in me, a fierce manic concentration brokered with a shocking bad temper. I was in awe and admiration to see such charming smiling company from those present!

One of the conversations I am compelled to relate was around the subject of this blog. I mentioned it because we were talking about blogs and. I said I feared my need to blog had waned a bit with the improvement in my overall happiness, following a year of freedom after the rotten events of previous years, with what happened with my parents and my Grandad.

This time last year, after coming back from holiday relaxed and refreshed, I got a call out of the blue from my stepdad. Regular readers will know I am estranged from my horrid parents, as they tormented me all my life and then took all my Grandad’s money and left him abandoned and homeless, and. I nearly broke trying to cope with it all.

The stress of hearing from them last summer and from visiting them and seeing the state they were both in ruined my health, and I ended up very poorly indeed with chest infections then pleurisy. It was not a good state of affairs for me to cope with, so I decided to stay away. They never rang to see if I was alright, for all they knew I could have fallen under a bus.

Today I got the call I knew was coming, my stepdad advised my Mum was now in a care home, as he could no longer look after her. I told him Amber had turned 18 last month. There was an awkward silence as they haven’t sent Amber a card for years.

Despite everything he’d done I felt pity for him because he loved my mum so much. He loved her so much he couldn’t bear her to love anyone else.

Watching him control her as I grew up was extremely sinister. He knocked her confidence every chance he got, he made jibes about her cooking (which was perfectly alright) so it became a standing joke, and she believed it. He was unbearably angry at any challenge from me in order to maintain the upper hand. He would create arguments over nothing and upset me in order to drive a wedge between mum and me.

She fell for it all. It was bewildering to watch her buy into all this crazy rubbish. They would spend all their money and all their spare time in dreadful working men’s clubs, he would get so drunk he would vomit on the way home.

He was my dad from the age of 4 and I was terrified to be around this frightening man and with very little effort I was ousted, my Mum did nothing to protect me from anything. Bad things happened to me because I was the cuckoo in the nest and no one wanted me.

She was always trying not to eat too much as he didn’t like it if she grew plump. He made her wear things that didn’t suit her, he was interested in every detail of what she did and didn’t do.

He was able to dominate her and manipulate he to the extent she lost the ability to stand up for herself or anyone else.

She lied for him, took his side without a second thought, together they did things that were cruel, negligent and wicked.

I hid from his jibes and taunts, I lived in my bedroom, did the best I could at school and by the time I was 18 I was living with my grandparents. My parents moved house, and threw away all my stuff.

He made her drunk. She loved the attention she got from him.

When Mum retired, Dad had already given up work. He took over their lives and that was the end of any relationship I had with her, as from then on, I never once was allowed to see her without him being present, or to do anything together with her.

When she drove, he would be unbearably rude and question everything she did, eventually she had no confidence left at all. I watched all of this, helpless. She never said a bad word about him, and eventually she became a shell of her former self. When I tried to speak to her about the things that were going on she would become angry. It was too late.

The irony of the call from my Dad.

Mum is now in the same care home they put grandad in one year, whilst they went on holiday using his pension money.

It was a large 1970’s building but run like a workhouse.

On arrival, they stripped Grandad against his will and examined him all over on the pretext of looking for bruises and marks, to cover themselves should he leave the home with any marks and bruises.

They took every item of his personal possessions from him, including a large sum in cash and gave him no receipt.

They had put him in a room with no bedding on his bed. When I visited him the day after he had been placed there I had to shout at the nurse in charge and get them to open the laundry cupboard and get him some blankets. He had been so cold overnight he couldn’t sleep.

Whilst I was sitting with him all you could hear was screaming from the other patients. It was like bedlam. A strange man came into the room, in pajamas, he looked at me sitting by my Grandad, and he came past and went to rummage in Grandad’s drawers and cupboards. I escorted him out and shut the door.

At the end of my visit I went to see the manager and read her the riot act. I then called the council and made an official complaint the morning after.

My complaint included other bad stuff, but I think you get the gist.

It was upheld, and the home was closed and was only reopened after processes had been put in place to safeguard the residents.

So, here I am blogging, my need to speak about what goes on is not concluded. You can only imagine how I feel about my Mum being in this dreadful place.

As ye sow, so shall ye reap. But I still feel pity for them.


Becoming Unravelled

Those of you that have been reading my blog awhile will remember how awful my parents were to my Grandad; he was a war hero and my best friend, he was disabled and had cancer, but he was beautiful. They had all his money from where they sold his house, and then by tricking him out of their house three years ago to go into a weeks “respite care” they then made him homeless at 94 years old, and we had to sort everything out for him, but he’d lost heart from their betrayal, and he eventually died in my arms two years ago on 26th November. It nearly broke me.

After ditching Grandad, my parents cut us off completely, they moved away without telling us, not a phone call, no birthday or Christmas cards for my daughter, we heard nothing from them, not a word, nothing for three years.

Four days after we returned from the best summer holiday of my life this year, where I finally found myself at peace after a long bout of depression triggered by the above events, with graceful timing my step Dad got back in touch, as he was in a wheelchair with bad Parkinson’s, and my Mum had bad dementia.

I have been round a few times now, and Social Services are now involved but nothing seems to be happening. Their newly built house is literally full of bin bags, the kitchen counters are full of mouldy cake. My step Dad asked me to help him look for his mobile phone as he’d lost it and I discovered the horror of the kitchen and as I opened the kitchen cabinets, and recoiled in horror as there were two broken eggs which were reeking terribly in one.

Not so funny for their next door neighbour, but it made me chuckle, Mum had opened the door to the postman yesterday and signed for a parcel for the lady next door, but of course as soon as she took it indoors she lost it, and has no idea where it could have gone. God knows where all the lost things are. Probably will all be found with their consciences.

They offered me a lift home lol, as if I’d get in a car with a pair of crazies!

I took some snaps of my family when I was there today, The picture below might be my Great Grandmother, or her mother. I have no way of knowing. We all look so alike.


Here are my “other” Grandparents, my stepDad’s parents, they were alright to me but my Grandad Harry was a handful. He would always call my Mum “Binks”, which was the name of one of his nieces, and get my step dad totally plastered until he was sick, my Mum would boil with anger when he did this. My Nanny Frances was nice, she would have liked Amber.

Frances is in the middle, my Nanny is on the right. So much drinking occurred when the family was together all the women in any pictures always look angry. Still, until today I never had any photos of Harry or Frances.


I reported both my parents to the dvla today as unfit to drive, they are in such a state they need to be in a home. I intend to have stern words with the social worker on Monday.

IKEA and Aching Feet!

Hello everyone,

This time of year is very odd. From talking to my friends, they too are cooped up and resentful of the dark nights and dismal weather, and not sleeping greatly.

I went out today with Lesley, one of my dearest friends, and it was very jolly.

You may have possibly seen the IKEA advert, with the VW Beetle piled high with products. We managed a healthy representation of that today, although it must be said most of our purchases were from B&Q.

How was I to know that they were selling bird tables and vast buckets of fat snacks at a discount?

Then there was the very helpful and charming young man who helped me get all the tiles for the kitchen even though we haven’t put the work top up yet…

Phew! I am very tired now! My feet hurt!

I had a couple of hours sit down, which was spent sewing my daughter’s cardigan together, I’m going to get that finished today if I can. Also, I have started sewing the crochet blocks together for my new bag!

Tomorrow we are going to visit my parents, I haven’t seen them since September. My Mum has Alzheimer’s and has no idea where she is, although she remembers me. My Dad has Parkinson’s and is very frail. They still drive although they definitely shouldn’t. I am already stressing that they’ll want me to get in the car with them and go for lunch.

Here are my new gloves:


Here are the bag squares in progress: