Tag Archives: Love is patient

But wait, there’s more….

The 2nd of the ‘big boy’ jumpers is finished.
And the 3rd in the trio is begun.
Another Sirdar pattern from the same era so I’ve just used the same measurements and adjusted the side panel stitches.
They should (hopefully) all be very similar in size

As simple as it looks
it took a little while to get the cable sequences right
and there were a few choice words spoken
and rows unpicked at one stage
so I might just chicken out
and do a plain back as well as plain sleeves

When all three are finished and finally on their way to Knit one Give one aka KOGO the time will have come to concentrate on something different- something close to my heart – something I’ve been thinking about for a while.

It’s two years to the day since Patsy my blond curly haired little sister died
Tribute – Sleep well my little one.

Next sister – Me – Little sister Patsy – Baby brother 1998

Take a look at this delightful photo (which I might have shown before) of Patsy (aged about 3)…….maybe just maybe, there might be some woolies coming up featuring little bunny rabbits. And as an aside it’ll be 20yrs on Saturday since my mum (she who knit Patsy’s rabbit jumper) died. These anniversaries are so hard on the heart.

I’m thinking my ‘2023 word to work with’ is going to be consider so I’ll have to think carefully about this one.
Cardigan or Jumpers (sweaters).
Size….can’t be too small or it will be dwarfed by the motif.
Colour……practical for children in unknown circumstances or ‘soft and pretty’ because that’s what she was.
I know there are graphs somewhere in amongst my patterns so guess what I’ll be doing today……if I don’t get sidetracked by my latest read .

Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont is a very short book to begin a shorter than usual month. Hopefully this will rekindle enthusiasm after my short reading lull during the last month.

Apart from the two mentioned early last month there was just one more book finished during January.
The Commandant – Jessica Anderson.
Historical Fiction about Moreton Bay Penal Colony (later to become Brisbane), involving the strange combination of its real life controversial commander Patrick Logan plus his wife’s (fictional) sister Frances.
I didn’t make it to book club because covid had come visiting so after a reasonable pause this (January’s) book was delivered to my door. It would’ve been rude of me not to start it…….actually it turned out to be a very good read

Wednesday is the day Kat hosts ‘Unraveled Wednesday 
Today is also the first Wednesday in February so I’m sharing my post – pop over and discover what others are knitting, reading and talking about


On my mind…

(This is one of my long ‘thinking out loud’ posts – you’re welcome to leave now )

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Something that’s been On my Mind these past few days has been how I reacted when I realised the use (or non use) of one thing led to the need and use of another which led to the need for and use of something much more necessary . And after seeing how quickly it struck, the realisation that even fully vaccinated (2 original doses plus 2 boosters) without the last item he would well and truly have been up sh*t creek.
And yes, the full cost of that antiviral medication was $1101.39 AUD!
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Being annoyed because someone decided…in an auditorium filled with about 1000 other people…( in an environment where now – rightly or wrongly – “…It is no longer a legal requirement for people diagnosed with COVID-19 to isolate…” source)… with case numbers rising again and me sitting beside him wearing one…NOT to mask up… was nothing to how I felt when someone told me a couple of days later ‘he felt a bit off’ but he’d taken a couple of Panadol so should be right.
He seemed to be in denial even though his RAT test was +ve almost instantly (plus the 2nd one because ‘maybe the 1st wasn’t correct’)

A couple of hours later his temp was sky high and he was feeling ‘more than a bit off’
(And yes I know there’s no guarantee when masks are worn but at least you’re making an effort to protect yourself and others……including those you ‘love!)

That first day there was much anger…Angela rightly called it resentment…name calling, some involving words The Golfer didn’t realise I knew….because deep down I was worried. Both for him and also selfishly me.
Everything seemed to take time – I seemed to be constantly on the go. Phone scripts are great if the link works, waiting for ones sent direct to the pharmacy took more time. Needing to start that medication plus use the prescribed inhaler asap seemed to make it go slower.

Then there was daily laundering – clothing and bed linen because of high raised temp/fever 38/39°, vomiting, spilled drinks, you name it, – unexpected incontinence even…yes maybe TMI but an unusual symptom – trying to get him to drink and possibly eat a little something (sore throat, don’t want it!) – dippy eggs with soldiers plus hot water, honey & lemon to the rescue! (Also grated cheese on toast done under the grill so it was soft then cut in quarters so he could nibble from the middle and leave the crusts. Nursery food!).
Health dept. suggestion of keeping everything he used separate and sterilised was interesting but manageable.

Nature was kind so he was able to sit outside most days, which was a help – fresh air and sunshine were good for him – meant I could keep him company at a distance – all the doors and windows inside could be open – also because trying to get him to keep a mask on indoors (near me) was a trial – lots of wars of words – I was ready to clobber him one if I heard the words ‘yes mum’ again.

For me sleeping in the other bedroom (another ‘highly recommended- if possible’ health dept suggestion) was necessary but not fun. Almost had one ear/one eye open most nights… this was my strong confident man shuffling along needing to be guided to the toilet because he couldn’t locate the door, waking me to ask if I put the bins out (not on bin night tho’), heard rustling around in the linen cupboard, no idea where he was, looking for the hot water bottle ( my feet are cold – put some socks on – don’t want to)
Oh dear illness does strange things to people.

It’s all over bar the shouting (and the lingering cough) now, daily health dept ‘check up’ contact calls have morphed into calls alternating with phone questionnaires,…. Wednesday he’s going to venture onto the golf course, attempting just half a round – 9 holes. I’m feeling a little guilty about how I felt and words that were spoken by ME – the one who has spent all her life living, working, then volunteering in a ‘caring environment’.

This time 3 years ago December 2019, we’d have wondered what all the fuss was about.
Now we know better – but – if there was this much stress, frustration and disappointment (How could you – I don’t need this) in a household of just two people, how on earth did households with several covid cases cope?

If you got this far thank you for reading- I just needed to get it off my chest.
Now it’s time for another cup of tea and wonder what this week will bring😊

Life gets a bit messy sometimes, don’t it



Wish ~ desire or hope for something to happen.
If wishes were fishes we’d all swim in riches!

A winter wish from a few years ago!

Two photos taken in the very early 1950s came to light the other day and a whole lot of emotions bubbled up to surface – some good some not so good

Plus the word Wish….

I would have been about 9 in the first one – it was a happy day.  My grandad from Belfast had come over on the boat to visit us in England and an uncle plus his family were there also.  I had on a new dress and remember wishing I could wear it every day and that Grandad didn’t have to go back home.

As we were growing up there were times when my sister would wish she didn’t have to wear ‘cast offs’ with turned up hems. She would never accept the fact that as much as she wished otherwise, it wasn’t my fault I was growing out of clothes, she was growing as well, money didn’t grow on trees and she was next in line – as you can see.

You never get anything by wishing, my mother was fond of saying.  Hard work and determination is what’s needed!,

That was my mother, wearied from the war years, the one I wished would love me more than the sister she gave my clothes to.  If she loved me, she wouldn’t have got angry and cut (chopped) my hair off with her big scissors.  I remember squealing and shouting as she brushed it one morning, trying to untangle the knots before it was plaited for school, all the time saying to me ‘I wish you would be quiet and stand still’  Oh how I wished I’d done as I was told that day – my mother was no hairdresser and I went to school that morning looking a bit – odd 

It’s strange that all these years later I’m reflecting on this and wishing things had turned out differently – my mother and I never got on, my sister continued to get my ‘cast offs, I never grew my hair long, Grandad went away back across the Irish Sea and I only got to see him 3 more times.

Oh, but listen to this, my sister still wears ‘cast offs’ – chosen very carefully with a good eye for what will suit her – from ‘Green Boutiques’ (aka charity shops)😊

And….. the beach with a hammock turned up on Green Island Qld back in 2009……..still looking for the winning lotto ticket though 😊

Are you a dreamer hoping your wishes come true?
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or more like my mother
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who thought wishes were pointless?

Linking to  Wednesday’s Words & Pics hosted by Denyse.
Where you’ll find lots of life to read about


Playing the waiting game…

(Also playing the ’hunt through photo folders’ – these are from 2016)

At that time there were lots of local shoppers who always brought their dogs along
Walk – Shop – Kill two birds with one stone

And of course the dogs had to wait outside the shops.

I remember watching these two as I waited for a friend who’d popped back into the supermarket – their owner had just tied them both to the railings and left them with kisses and reassuring pats.
 ‘I’ll only be a couple of minutes she said, You’ll be ok.’

Somehow I don’t think the ‘big’ one believed her

Where the h*** is she?  
A couple of minutes she said!  I’m sure we’ve been here that time already,

She’s nowhere in sight!  She knows I like my lunch dead on time.

All this from the ‘big’ one – the ‘older’ one just sat there, waiting patiently, looking a bit resigned, tolerating his mates whinging – knowing she’d be along sometime and they’d both get fed when they got home 🙂

Unfortunately I had to leave…..I still wonder how they reacted when she got back and feel a bit disappointed I didn’t get to see the reception on her return!

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Linking to YAM’s Final Friday Fiction