It is with great sadness that I report the believed death of another not-very-beloved-because-it-died-on-us modem. We have been without the internets intermittently last week and permanently since Friday morning. I found to be a period of great turmoil characterised by sadness and withdrawal and H, who works from home and needs the internets to do even a tiny part of his job, found mildly inconvenient!
It did mean that when my net connection to my office died on Thursday afternoon I got more of a snow day than I originally planned although in the long term, and I know it is sacrilege to say this in the presence of still-present snow, I could have done with getting a bit more work done.
We quickly forget how much we rely on being able to just look things up - H has spent today marmalising BT, Tesco and chatting up Sky to get a good deal on replacement broadband, but had to call me at work to get the numbers, and it took a while to find a number that led to a real person. On a side note, a hint to Tesco internet - having a website that tells you whether there is a known fault with your broadband connection is about as much use as an e-mail telling you the e-mail is broken (a favourite with office IT departments the world over).
Anyway, I'm here (illicitly established on H's work computer which is harnessed directly to the main phone socket by more tele-cabling than you'd think could be present in one house); flickr is working its way through my pictures from the last few days, and I have glorious knitting to share.
Would anyone like to hazard a guess as to what these are:
I'm going to miss knitting these squares - these are numbers 29-31 inclusive. Their honour is that they are the final four squares to be knit from colourways known to Noro as opposed to mongrel colourways of my own invention. They are all from Web of Wool (as are the vast majority of the squares in the pile)
In order of knit:
#205. I don't fish but in my mind, this is the colour of river fishing - we've got the green waders, the colours of weeds in the stream, the bright blue and green of a carefully tied fly, and the minty green of water slipping over fish scales. In homage to my everlasting love for all things Arthur Ransome, this is The Cachalot.
#52. I love the complexity of the colours in this square - from a distance it looks very muted and a little muddy but closer up you can see the tweedyness (is that a word?) of the yarn that is the hallmark of good Noro. The colours are of western Scotland, and whilst I'd love to carry on the Ransome theme, and call this one Great Northern it is instead Etive, the name of a loch and a mountain and the home of a favourite uncle and aunt, reminiscent of brackeny walks to see mountains stretching away to an icy connection between land and sky, and views of mossy grey castles butting up to steely lochs reflecting the clouds above.
All of our pictures of our trip north last March are taken in shadow, but all are full of a dank saturated colour. It was beautiful.
#236. I'm seriously considering this colour as a contender for the edging - it's got blue, flashes of lime green, lots of my favourite orange and a hint of purple - what's not to like? This square is a Turkish mosaic - my mother had a set of cards with these wonderful gold and blue and orange Turkish patterns; I loved them and she used to send them to me when I was at university.
And our final honour for the day goes to #124 - its name is Kir Royale - the reason:
Kir Royale Blackcurrant Champagne truffles from Hotel Chocolat - a serious weakness of mine!
So, only three more squares to knit before H and I get to play jigsaw puzzles with all the squares and my gargatuan sewing-up fest begins - maybe we'll need a Lizard Ridge blanket each.....