Phoenix Rising

It's official.  The Ashes are ours.  Not just because we had them last time and somehow managed not to loose them, but because over a 5 test series we were the most consistent and dominant team and we won 3-1.  We've been glued to the daytime highlights and the start of match play each evening on the laptop - the battery lasted just long enough last night for me to see the final wicket fall and then it too gave up the ghost so I had to wait until this morning to see the celebrations.

On which point oh ye might of Cricket Australia - do you really call that an appropriate end of series presentation?  5 minutes in and out is how you hand out the swimming badges at a primary school, not the teeniest sporting trophy out there.  Hmm, we'd better leave it there before I get on to why it is that Michael Vaughan, whilst an excellent cricketer and commentator, is English and so a surprising choice to be presenting the crystal ashes in Australia.  I mean, had all the Australians already gone home?

For Ashes-watching knitting I resurrected another project from the bottom of the knitting bag.  This one has only been buried since the end of July, it's the sock pattern that I started to design in my Cookie A class at Knit Nation, appropriately christened Phoenix.


I knit a full repeat after the class finished but I was in a very instant gratification kind of frame of mind and wanted everything finished the day before yesterday.

This is not a quick knit sock; there are no 'rest' rounds, with lace patterning on almost every row, and the four vertical braids are a bit fiddly to work but as with all of these things, if you're not in any tearing hurry it soon adds up.  I'm now about half a repeat from the heel turn and really enjoying the knitting.  It doesn't hurt that it's Bugga yarn, and sheer bliss to have running through your fingers.

In between all the knitting and cricket, my Mum and Dad came to visit to deliver Kitty's Christmas present.  Now it's here I can see why it wasn't suitable for the post - they've given her an Old England rose that shares her name (her real name, not Kitty).  It's a very pale pink and apparently should smell wonderful.  I think it's a lovely and unusual present and I can't wait until the summer when it flowers.

And of course there was plenty of time for Kitty-cuddles.  Well, Mum was cuddling Kitty.  Dad on the other hand was somewhat distracted by the gizmo in the corner, and couldn't wait for a go.

Move over Pierce Brosnan's 007, that's Dad, on a cross trainer, wearing a tie.