I’ve had a hand breakthrough – no, I’ve been good, I’m not knitting whole shawls in an evening or spinning an entire fleece in three hours. In fact, I’ve knitted two lines and looked at my wheel in passing. Next week.
But my triumph is a knitter’s triumph rather than a knitting one. I can do up my walking boots properly! I’ve spent 22 months unable to tie a knot strongly enough for a boot to stay on most of the time, so I just had to set off for a walk in celebration. And in the drizzle, but who cares? Walking in woods is why we have drizzle.
And yes, they were damp. But that’s good for the wildflowers, and in a couple of weeks these woods will be full of bluebells. Some are already out, together with the white sparkles of wood sorrel:
and as usual I couldn’t resist collecting colours (turquoise, ho, ho, leapt out – the influence of my last post, perhaps):
I haven’t been in the woods for a while. Mud can suck an insecure walking boot off very quickly, and idyllic though these woods can appear, they are used by quad bikers from time to time (squelch, or rather squelch times ten). Horses too, and that can really make for an interesting out-of-boot experience. And of course they are naturally damp, hence all the wonderful mosses and lichens.
I met one other person, a local dog walker – and that’s on a Bank Holiday weekend, when the local small towns are heaving and the beaches are busy despite the drizzle. And despite the lack of people the woods were, quite frankly, rowdy. It’s nesting time, which means lots of birdsong (best translated as ‘come over here if you think you’re hard enough’ or ‘mine! mine!’), and then they are next to farmland:
Well, it is early April, and you can’t get more springlike than the lambs even if they are some of the noisiest creatures around, especially if you allow for their size.
(This one is fine, it’s just practising looking pathetic. Those cute knock-kneed legs can kick and one bit right through the fingernail of a friend of mine.)
Apparently there have been complaints from people on one of the campsites nearby about the din. I like to think of it as a sort of operatic chorus, with the alto of the mums going ‘laaammbb, laaambbbb’, and the sharp soprano lambs responding ‘muuuuum, muuuum’.
Hm. Maybe I’ve been away from my knitting long enough.
Sometimes you’ve just got to scratch. Me and this lamb both.
Oh – they’re mostly Welsh Mountains on this farm, though there are some interesting crosses. I’ve had various WM cross fleeces, and they can be really lovely. In fact I have one waiting; I was going to card it with some alpaca. Hm – bet I can use the drum carder…
Have a lovely what’s left of the holiday!