Stick to the knitting

Crocheting - it can't be that hard can it? I can knit, so I think I'd like to learn to crochet. So I booked a place on a crochet workshop for beginners and with lots of enthusiasm turned up full of anticipation at a heavenly wool shop (Fibre & Clay) in Knutsford. I would spend the day chatting with like-minded ladies, drinking coffee and eating a nice lunch, whilst learning a new skill.

Hmmm! It didn't quite turn out as I expected. Firstly I have to confess to having a raging hangover having spent the previous evening (and early morning) at a charity evening, where wine flowed freely. As we don't get out very often we made the most of it and went on to a bar for cocktails (de rigeur in Knutsford anyway). Some bright spark (neither me nor Nic!) then voted to have a night cap at someone's house - logically this had to be whoever needed to send the babysitter home. 2 hours later we ejected some well oiled neighbours out of our house and a short 5 hours later my alarm clock went off! My lasting memory of the evening was sharing with the group that I didn't want to drink too much, otherwise I would be breathing alcoholic fumes over the ladies on the crochet workshop. Some smart Alec from the group quipped that "at least it would disguise the smell of wee" - see blog below for stereotypical views of people who knit (or crochet).

Sitting on Saturday morning, sipping coffee from designer mugs, surrounded by hand crafted bags and garments (still feeling dreadful), I couldn't wait to get my hands on a crochet hook and some nice wool. We all browsed through magazines and books, picking out items we would be rushing to make by the end of the day... We established that we were all more or less crochet virgins (some had dabbled a little long time ago) and so were all at the same stage. 4 hours later I was still at the same stage at the bottom of class, along with Nicola (it's always nice to have some company), whilst other members of the group were flying along with their chains, treble trebles, gaily changing colours and yarns and discussing how many fluted scarves they could make in time for Christmas! Nicola and I on the other hand would have been happy to finish a coaster for a shot glass by Christmas - the same one we started but came nowhere near completing in 5 hours! Nicola labelled us the "special needs crocheters" as we seemed to be so differently abled to the rest of the class! We couldn't even master wrapping the yarn around our fingers to get the right tension, never mind pull a tiny loop down through 3 or 4 equally tiny loops with a hook that seemed to be like a cricket bat!

By lunchtime I had completed 2 whole rows of my coaster - ignoring the fact that it was shaped like a banana and I had an epiphany when I realised that I could turn the crochet hook, rather than holding it rigidly at the same angle all the time. Imagine trying to use a knife or fork without flexing, turning your fingers or hands comfortably around it. Lunch seriously eased my hangover and I returned to the crochet cell with renewed vigour... until I realised that we were now embarking on a new adventure - crocheting in a circle to produce a so-called granny ring. I almost lost the plot completely until I decided to rebel slightly and continue with my coaster. By 4.00pm I was the proud owner of half a coaster (it's not actually level enough to risk placing a drink on it) and had mastered the double, half treble, double treble AND the treble treble. Rashly I bought some gorgeous pink soft yarn and a hook with the aim of crocheting a bag for Abigail. I set off home eager to put my new skill into practise.

Halfway through Strictly (about three hours later) I abandoned the crocheting, having cast on 30 chains and completed 1 and a half very bumpy rows. I picked up my knitting and quickly finished another hat and made significant headway on the next one by bed time. I came to the conclusion that trying to crochet on my own at home could be compared to leaving the hospital with your new born baby for the first time. At hospital with the midwives on hand to help all the time you think you think you've mastered it, but flying solo at home is a whole different ball game. And I don't think Sarah, our wonderful and extremely patient teacher would want to move in and nursemaid me until I could go it alone.

Don't get me wrong - crocheting and me are not finished - I'm still very enticed by the wealth of delicate items that can be crocheted (fluted scarf for one) and I will pick up the hook and go back into battle another day. I will not be beaten!!

By Jane Burkinshaw. Share this post by clicking on one of the Share buttons on the right hand side. I'd love to hear your comments too!

My guilty secret

I've got a guilty secret and only my family and closest friends know about it (and come to think of it my hairdresser and some complete strangers in Costa Coffee). It's something I used to only do behind closed doors but have recently taken up in public places too... Before you ring the police and /or a psychiatric help line, I'll enlighten you - I am a knitter! After a period of abstinence I am now completely addicted once more and am rarely seen during my "spare" time without wool, needles and flying elbows.

Like all embarrassing secrets I have to weigh up who I tell about my yarn yearnings. It's amazing how knitting polarises people into 2 distinct groups - firstly the "Oh god, you don't, do you?!" group, who burst out laughing and then mentally take you off their list of exciting people to invite round for dinner. Secondly there's the "Oh so do I - isn't it great" group who share your passion and completely understand it.

Perhaps it's my snobbism but I also think that you can break the group of knitting lovers down further as well (well my marketing background encourages me to segment the market!). There are those knitters who fit the stereotype to a "T" - cardiganed grannies knitting endless blankets, sweaters, hats, scarves and socks out of leftover balls of wool that are then presented to family members who are too tactful to ask them whether they are a) colour blind or b)stuck in a 70's time warp. For those of you that believe all knitters fall into this category, you've obviously missed the knitting revolution and I would challenge you to put your prejudices aside and look again. Knitting just got SEXY! Well, not just - It's been that way for some time now. Designs and yarns have caught up with the times and it's now cool to be handknitting. People all over the country are picking up their needles and creating fashionable garments, cushions, bags out of the most amazing colours and textures.

When I tell people my little secret now I usually make sure I've got something I've recently made about or on my person (or on one of the kids), so that when they give the usual "Oh god, you don't do you?!" reaction, I can quickly blow apart their preconceptions by showing them a natty little hat out of baby soft yarn in delicious colours. I usually find that they are astonished and quite often start to hint quite heavily that they would love said garment themselves.

By Jane Burkinshaw. Share this post by clicking on one of the Share buttons on the right hand side. I'd love to hear your comments too!

Bowling, bugs & bogeymen

It seems like ages since I did a family rather than business blog - life has been as hectic as ever. But looking back at the photos from October we've packed a lot in and had a great time. Halfway through the month we celebrated my nephew Ewan's 5th birthday ("baby Ewan" just can't be 5 already!). We went to his bowling party (made it this time after breaking down on route last year). Abi was first to get a strike - hence the jubilant pictures and Sam was relieved not to come last. After a pizza birthday tea we headed back to hotel chez Patrick but ran out of time for a dip in the hot tub.

Hallowe'en started mid October with the school Freaky Friday disco, when Wincham was besieged early evening by knee high gremlins, vampires, witches and the like. After the 7.30pm watershed the slightly scarier junior horrors hit the dance floor and the noise level hit new heights. I got through the event by sharing smuggled in wine with another mum. Hope no law abiding PTA members bother to read this. Half term followed quickly after with more spooky and revolting goings-on. We visited Bug World at the Albert Docks hence photos of giant slimy beasts and zebra bottoms (no - I don't understand that either!). As we couldn't fit in trick or treating this year I allowed myself to be pressganged into a Hallowe'en tea party on the 30th and ended up quite enjoying it (well, the wine anyway). The highlight of Hallowe'en for me was the sight of Sam as a keyboard-playing, headphone-wearing zombie, dancing away oblivious to the fact that we were watching!

Kids are now back at school but no peace for the wicked. Lots of work on (good news) and all the Xmas pantos etc looming (has anyone got a wolf costume I can borrow?!)

By Jane Burkinshaw. Share this post by clicking on one of the Share buttons on the right hand side. I'd love to hear your comments too!