I thought that there was enough in the soup post to stand alone so here we go … a second post in one day!
Daughter will move shortly and had been telling her partner about the ‘Poorly blanket’. Long-time readers may recall me writing about the magical qualities of such an item but if not, you can read about it below. Anyhow, Daughter asked if I could make one for the new house. I reminded her that I’d made one a couple of Christmases ago but that’s apparently destined either for the playroom or her home-office. Poorly blankets are multi-coloured; that’s always been the way and the latest one I’d made for the little grandsons was very bright and colourful, but Daughter was now requesting an actual colour scheme. Anyhow, I started it a couple of weeks ago and it’s progressing well. I don’t set any time aside for crocheting – it just accompanies television watching.
The origin of the poorly blanket (extract from post on 18th April 2018): Although I loved writing stories as a child, and made up tales for my children when they were young, during most of my adulthood it wasn’t something I gave much thought to. When I (eventually … at the age of 57) went to university and discovered that writing and I fitted together very comfortably, I realised that I must always have had some kind of a need to create. When my children were small this creativity manifested itself in other ways. An effective cure-all for little people who felt under the weather was snuggling up in the poorly blanket, so named by my eldest son. The three children used to argue over whose turn it was to use it so I made two more. The poorly blanket has recently seen a revival. After a nostalgic conversation last year about what the fate of said blankets might have been, I made one for my daughter at Christmas 2016.
Other posts that you may recall from last year were when I wrote about my stockpiling in case of a No-deal Brexit (never an enormous pile, but enough to supplement what we we would be able to buy in the event of shortages). Not everyone, including my husband, agreed that it would be necessary and it wasn’t (although recent reports are again suggesting that a No-deal may still occur so who knows, I may yet be vindicated). One acquaintance at the time referred to my moderate store to panic buying. I defended myself by saying that adding two or three items to what I’d normally buy could not, in any way, be described as panicking. And now, here we are a few month on, with coronavirus-induced real panic-buying taking as shelves are stripped of various items in some parts of the country. Tesco has announced today that in some areas it is rationing goods such as tinned vegetables and long-life milk as they are selling out. However we think this virus is going to progress, the media must surely take the bulk of the blame for encouraging such a situation. I do wish they would be less sensationalist. Do we never learn?
I’ve made cakes this afternoon but was very disappointed that the silicone ‘sunflower’ mould that I bought has, for the second time, proved a failure; the cake stuck badly and came out looking a total mess. The small muffins I made in another silicone mould were also mostly unsuccessful. Back to tins and liners for me.
I’m feeling a bit sorry for myself this weekend. A pain in my right shoulder blade, which has niggled for a few days, has intensified. I’ve been using heated pads on it over the weekend and now the discomfort is spreading into my neck. Curiously, there is no limited movement, but I just might have to stick to coffee at the gym tomorrow and forgo the exercise … any excuse!