Now that winter has well and truly arrived, I’m enjoying being snuggled up inside with my knitting. I’ve already shared some garments I knitted last year (Bronwyn and Strokkur), so here are my knitting plans for this winter.
I’ll confess – I love a good skivvy. It has this gloriously daggy connotation, and reminds me of a childhood wearing out our VHS tape of The Wiggles’ Big Red Car.
Last I wrote about my Bronwyn jumper, it was destined for the frog pond. With so many issues I couldn’t face ripping and reknitting the sleeves yet again, nor doing the calculations to make them fit the seamed yoke shaping, particularly not in a complex cable pattern. It took some time away for me to realise I couldn’t give up that close to finishing, so I put on my patternmaker hat, finished the sleeve maths and then the jumper itself, an exact year after casting on.
After starting with fair isle hats, the next progression in my colourwork knitting was a yoked jumper. The classic style of a colourwork yoke knit in the round above a plain knit body seems to have been around forever, but it is in fact a fairly recent invention – Bohus-style jumpers appeared in Sweden c. 1940, followed by Icelandic lopi yokes (or lopapeysa) in the 1950s.* They really took off in the 60s and 70s, then as now contributing to Iceland’s national identity and tourist trade.
If you’re a regular reader of my blog, you’ll know my love for Burda and their shirt patterns in particular. A couple of years back, I made the Burda 04/2010 #114 long-sleeved blouse which became my most-loved and worn button up shirt. When it finally hit the dust (RIP shirt), I didn’t think twice before replacing it.
Don’t expect this to be one of those “plan ahead for your international long-haul flight, try not to see too many amazing attractions in one day” kind of posts. This post is for those spoonies who can barely make it 1 hour out of the house, let alone travelling to another town; for whom a few hundred km’s may as well be around the world. (Toni Bernhard has an excellent article about how minor holidays become massive trips with chronic illness on Psychology Today.) Continue reading “Tips for travelling with chronic illness (when you’re barely well enough to leave the house)”
If you are housebound/bedbound due to chronic illness, you will be well aware of the limitations placed on yourself and others like you in accessing adequate healthcare. However, it is an issue that largely goes unnoticed, as the medical system and broader society either do not want to know or choose not to care about people in this situation.