This week’s blog nearly writes itself. It’s been a trip full of adventures, and I’ve only been away a week.
Within five minutes of leaving home, I’d scraped the side of the car. I stopped at the nearest pillar box to post a letter. The side road narrows at one point, and I’d odged over to let another car past. Crunch crumple! I’d scraped the car against the front corner of a parked one. The damage isn’t too bad, and the other car looked to have only superficial damage, but you never can tell. Being honest, I asked some folk loading their car if they knew who the owner was. They pointed out a nearby house, I rang the bell and apologised profusely. We exchanged details, and, talking sternly to myself, I set off again and vowed to pay more attention.
After an overnight stop in Edinburgh, I continued to Northamptonshire to stay a few days at the family manse. On arriving, I noticed that some lights on timers were not on. Perhaps there had been a power cut, I thought. When I got into the house, the overhead lights worked, but anything plugged into a socket did not. While searching for the fuse box, I noticed that the timer for the heating and hot water was also not working. Eventually I found the fuse box, and by switching them on and off one by one, I found the switch for the residual current device. The sockets and controller were now working.
Next, the bathroom floor was littered with dead flies, with dozens of live ones on the window. It is that time of year in the countryside when flies come in to hibernate. They buzz sluggishly then try to hide in the windows’ crevices. It reminded me of a little poem of my dad’s, who trained as an electrical engineer:
Alternating current pie
First a currant, then a fly
Underneath the crust they lie,
Alternating current pie.
Later, car unloaded, timers reset and dinner consumed, I remembered there was a huge chest freezer in the basement. Rivulets of water trickled off as I opened the lid. It had completely defrosted. Thankfully, nothing had obviously started to rot. Fortunately, the freezer had already been partly cleared. The most sensible course was to refreeze it and empty it another time.
Finally, on Monday I developed flu-like symptoms. I was due to go to a bamboo pipe course in the south of England a few days later. As a precautionary measure, I took a Covid test and, yes, you’ve guessed it, it came up positive. I contacted the organiser, and we agreed that I should not attend until I had a negative test. Although disappointed not to see my friends, I fully understand.
Because of the travel and then illness, I have not even looked at the gansey for the past week. When I packed it, the sleeve was giving me some concerns. It looked quite baggy. Since then, I have compared it to another gansey; the sleeve is too big, and needs redoing. I would rather reknit than have balloon sleeves. And because of fewer stitches, it’ll be quicker to knit the second time. Look for the silver lining.
Wow, you have had such a busy time. Sorry to hear about all the house troubles and catching COVID.
I got much joy reading your Dad’s poem, we have a similar problem in the fall- usually with ladybugs.
Ontario, Canada
Laura
I had a similar problem with the latest gansey sleeve. Much too big. I’d picked up 88 sts each half (3 for every 4 rows) and knitted 3 inches before I decided it was too big. I undid back to 2 rows then decreased by knitting every 8th and 9th together. Much more like it. But should I do 2nd sleeve the same or just pick up fewer sts? I decided to do it the same incase it was noticeably different.
Hope you feel more like picking up your gansey again soon.
Hi Rita
That’s exactly what I did as well. I’ll probably pick up the ‘right’ number of stitches on the second sleeve.
Be well soon, Margaret.
Good luck you!
Watch the neighbours cars though !!
Ouch. Get well soon. I wonder if the moment of inattention was an early symptom.
If the contents hadn’t thawedm they are probably safe. If they had thawed, meat should be tossed but I’m told vegetables can be refrozen.
Redoing a sleeve is a nuisance, but not as much as having to look at a disappointing one ever after.
Hi Tamar
No, I’ve come to realise the inattention is a bad character trait. For the freezer, there’s not too many vegetables in there apart from oven chips!
Oh, poor you! That is way more adventure of the wrong kind. I had visions of you in New Hampshire with your family watching the lovely autumn leaves fall off the trees. OK–yes, look for silver linings. Take care.
What an eventful little adventure. I too thought that you were going across the pond. Keep well and keep away from the dreaded Lurggy that is Covid. Not pleasant at all. Best of luck with the reknitting your sleeve. Best regards and happy knitting.
Hi Gordon.
I have just found your site. What a joy! Although I am an experienced knitter, a Gansey(despite wanting to own one desperately) is something I have never felt confident enough to “tackle”. I wondered could you direct me to a good starter pattern? The actual stitch patterns I don’t anticipate causing me too many problems, but the mathematical element scares me considerably(although I do always work a tension square for practically every sweater I make).
could you help get me started? any advice would be greatley appreciated.
Michelle. UK
Hi Michelle
It’s not obvious from the blog anymore, but Gordon passed away last December, and I’m continuing the blog. I’ve inherited his enormous stash of ganseys yarn to knit up! If you navigate to the ‘Knitting Ganseys’ section of the site, there should be plenty of information there to get you started. HTH!
Margaret
Hello Margaret. I am so sorry to hear that Gordon is no longer with us.I only found his blog by pure chance and haven’t read alot of his previous posts but
What a source of inspiration his blog is and he was. I should imagine looking after Gansey World involves a considerable amount of work. Many Thanks for your undertaking.
I will look at the “Knitting Ganseys'” as you advise.
Mant Thanks
Michelle UK
Thanks again
Enjoy your Gansey stash.
Michelle UK