CrumpArt

It’s been a rough five days. And I have one more in store tomorrow.

The air conditioning at my building at work broke down sometime between Christmas Eve and Boxing Day. For those that don’t know, I work in a very large department store. I know the last few days haven’t been comfortable for anyone in Melbourne, what with the over 40 degree Celsius weather and all, but I’ve seriously felt like punching anyone who has complained about how hot they are the last week. I live in an old weatherboard house with no insulation at all, and even that has seemed mild compared to what we’ve been through at work. I finished my shift today around lunchtime, and immediately walked two blocks to the closest cinema and stayed there for four and a half hours.

One more day. That’s all I have to get through now. Then four days off in a row. And the only thing that’s guaranteeing I’ll turn up tomorrow? New Year’s Day. A public holiday. Thirty-six bucks an hour. Even I’ll spend all day in a hot box with no windows, parked in front of a portable air-cooler that looks like a prop from Brazil for that much money.

All through my life I’ve had an irrational fear of spiders and other small crawling creatures. Apparently I screamed my way through ET under the seats of the cinema, because I thought ET was a giant bug. I don’t really remember that, and I’ve come to discover that my fear of spiders is really pretty stupid. I love spider webs, and have developed an even greater respect for them since learning to knit and spin. I still get spooked at times when I come across a spider or bug (or anything really… I’m embarrassed to admit that I spook quite easily…) when I’m not expecting to, but I’ve hit the point where I can catch most of these in a glass and take them outside. If I see a spider living in a little nook or cranny out of reach, I’m happy to leave it there. I know some of my growth in the fear department is a result of a growing general respect for the order of things — a realisation that I’m not the centre of the universe and other beings have just as much right to share this space with me.

Occasionally I’ll read a blog post where the writer freaks out about confronting a spider in their home, and waxes lyrical about their efforts to kill it because spiders are just. so. disgusting. And I always hope that someone in the following comments will come to the defense of the spider, but they never do… a lot of times the comments make me sadder than the posts, and I’m always too shy to make a stand. Maybe this blog post is my passive-aggressive retort.

The huntsman in the picture above isn’t from my house. We do have them here, but they seem to prefer living up the back of the yard, which is fine by me. This one was our Christmas Day spider. It watched us eat lunch at my sister-in-common-law’s house, and I took some photos of it afterwards.

It made me happy to see a spider on Christmas Day. I discovered an old myth from the Ukraine recently about spiders and Christmas, where it is considered good luck to have a spider somewhere on your tree. I might have linked to it in an earlier post, but it goes something like this.

Once, there was a widow who was very poor. One day a pine cone took root on the floor of the hut she lived in with her children, and all through the year they talked excitedly about how they would decorate their beloved Christmas tree. But they were so poor that come Christmas Eve, it was still bare. The widow knew that the tree would not be decorated.

Then on Christmas morning, she awoke to the delighted shouts of her children saying “Look! Look! It’s so beautiful!” A spider had visited their tree during the night, and spun a web all through the branches. When the first light of morning made it’s way through the window, the web turned to silver and gold. The widow and her children never wanted for anything again.

As you may recall, I started out only knitting two things for Christmas. What I’ve titled the Anansi Scarf for my sister, and Starsky Jr for my niece.

I finished the scarf and sent it off to Darwin a couple of weeks ago, along with a copy of Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman and the Spider fragrance from Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab.

On the other hand, I didn’t finish Starsky Jr. It still looks like this, although there are two sleeves now. I’ve started on a front, but accidentally left my knitting bag at my parents house in the country a couple of days ago.

And why is it that I didn’t get Starsky Jr finished? Well, I admit to adding a couple of other things to my Christmas knitting schedule.

My mum happened to be staying at our house when my package from the Ravely Aussie Knitters Tea Cosy Swap arrived. She fell in love with my tea cosy and started looking through all my knitting books for cosy patterns. When I asked if she still had the same teapot from my childhood, she told me that it was broken and they didn’t have a teapot at all anymore. So I picked up the same teapot that I own from work, and used the Noro yarn I received in my swap package to make this for her. I went with steeks for the spout and handle openings this time around in order to keep the colour rings consistent around the whole teapot. She loves it.

The extra knitting doesn’t end there, though. We received an invitation in the post to attend my nephew’s baptism, and I remembered that I hadn’t actually made a gift for him when he was born… three months ago. So, after finding out that he is a genuine ZeFrank Giant Baby, I set about altering Pebble (Henry’s Manly Cobblestone-Inspired Baby Vest) to fit an 18-month old, except this Henry will be wearing it when he’s hit six months.

This was made from two balls of ancient stash that my mum handed over a while ago. I only had those two balls, but I wish I had more, because I love it. It’s old Cleckheaton Country 8-ply Naturals in a blue-grey colour with tweedy flecks. So pretty. And I had just enough to finish this.

So Starsky Jr has become Birthday Knitting instead of Christmas Knitting, and that’s perfectly fine by me.

I have to head back to work tomorrow after my two days off. Considering our biggest sale of the year started today, I’m not really looking forward to it. So, I have a few reminders for the bargain hunters out there.

1. That’s a bed, not a baby changing table.
2. That’s a towel, not something for you to spit on then put back on the shelf.
3. That’s a shelf, not a rubbish bin.
4. “Faulty” is not a code word for covered in poo.

Recently on Ravelry, Kris organised a tea cosy swap in the Aussie knitter group. I haven’t participated in a swap for a while, but it’s holidays, and I am in fact cultivating a slight major tea (and teapot) addiction.

I sent out my swap package last week, with a slight Japanese theme. Here’s the cosy:

Made with Japanese Noro Kureyon yarn, and accompanied by some origami cranes, a knitting based collograph print, some Japanese tea which Karen mentioned liking, a whole bunch of Pocky and some yarn and fibre.

And while I liked the package that I sent, it (or any other package) can’t beat the one I received. I couldn’t possibly be happier with what came in the post last Sunday morning, and after a sleep-in, no less!

Orange napkins with handknit napkin rings! And no, I’m not so sad as to get disgustingly excited about napkins, even if they are adorable, but that was my photo of the day.

How freaking awesome is that tea cosy? It’s so perfect in so many ways. And the spotty mug! And the stack of T2 teas! And the chai! And the ginger nuts and fruit rolls! And the NORO KUREYON SHADE 88! I was very, very spoiled by Sandy.

But the pièce de résistance?

Take that, measuring tape black hole!

I was right. Not much time to post now. I do have lots to say though, but my only days off in the next fortnight are Christmas Day and Boxing Day, which will be spent at Mr C’s sister’s house and my parents house, respectively. In the meantime, more Tegan and Sara…