The Canberra Sock(s)

A wet, grey Canberra day - the first of winter

My beloved hauled me out of bed at some ungodly hour this morning, slid a cooked breakfast and a mug of hot tea under my nose, and shuffled me out to the car for a three and a half hour drive to the Nation's Capital ... Canberra for the uninitiated.

Parliament House - the new-ish one

 

That white building way in the distance is the old one

 We had some time to spare before our scheduled tour in the National Art Gallery, so we tramped up the hill for a quick inspection of Parliament House. There was a bit of a kerfuffel with the metal detectors going in (a rogue iPhone in somebody's pocket). P also had to empty out of all that jangly loose change, which prompted a chuckle and a comment from the security lady about how there was just enough there to buy me a cup of coffee.

 There is much to see inside, apart from the engine-rooms-of-power, but I was mostly taken with these series of tapestries, produced for the bicentenary in 1988 by kids with learning difficulties. So hard not to go all touchy-feely ...

They are larger than life, bright and colourful, and beautifully executed.

But our excursion was chiefly aimed at full immersion in some "culture" at the National Gallery's opening day of the Turner exhibition, on loan from the Tate.

I was ever so glad of my new waterproof jacket!

The gallery doesn't look all that big from the outside, but actually it is HUGE! I swear it's a tardis ... we walked for over two and a half hours and still didn't see all of the treasures within. Turner's work is breathtaking though; from pencil sketches to watercolours, to full-blown large-scale oils, rich, yet soft and translucent with light. I'm no art critic and not particularly well-schooled in these things, but it was quite, quite marvelous to see the depth of his mastery. I want to go back and spend another day or two just wandering around; there is just too much to take in all at once.

And now to my mastery, not anything like the mastery of the painter. Just sock(s). Well, sock really. I didn't start casting on until we were on the road, and I got as far as the toe decrease by the time we arrived in Canberra. I really was way too fagged to start the second sock on the way home, and the light was not conducive to knitting either. Thankfully, there's always tomorrow. I shall call this The Canberra Sock. It's a bubby-sized foot warmer with a roll top and ribbing that runs all the way down the front. Kind of cute, but a little more sophisticated than your average baby bootie. ETA three weeks baby P (can't wait you know). :)

I am hopeful that all of the words above make sense ('cos boy, I'm kind of tired now and I hear bed calling).

Evie xxx

From the River to the Sea

Last week delivered buckets and buckets of rain, drenching an already soaked landscape with water far in excess of what was needed. With creeks and rivers up and down the coast already filled to capacity there was nothing for it but for water to start spilling from the magnificent Warragamba Dam south-west of Sydney. And while all this precipitation was highly conducive to a couple of days of rugged-up knitting, cabin fever was definitely brewing in my household. What could be more exciting at a time of record-worthy rain than to jump into the car and tour down to the lowlands to see the raging torrent.

We, like numerous other locals, stood on the Yarramundi Bridge watching the rising waters swirl and strain as little waves began to wash up near our feet. It felt like a somewhat foolish thing to do despite the sturdiness of the structure. It is a bridge that was built for flood-time, and has often withstood such waters. I'm not much of a daredevil, in fact, I'm probably the biggest scaredy-cat I know, so this was living on the edge for me ... We came home, had a glass of red wine to warm the weary, and I once again picked up my knitting.

Sunday, ah Sunday loomed a little brighter and the rain had mostly blown away. A visit to see family took us near enough to the coast to make us want to flit out and see the sea. One of things I love about long car trips is that while I am watching the world go by my knitting bag sits on my lap, a constant and comfortable travel companion. As suburban streets turn into roads, and roads turn into motorways my needles silently and rhythmically work their special magic. I am knitting with four needles, and as one round precedes another, my work continues to lengthen and grow. The beanie that was started on Friday night was all but finished on our journey to the sea and back.

Now my little brown Baby Baby set is complete and I think young Mr P is going to look very snuggly in these oh-so-mini-man woollies, don't you?

So I've started on the next knitty thing, a pair of two-toned mocha/blue baby socks that are going to turn out just grand I reckon. And while I'm getting all this knitting done I've also been thinking about getting my sewing room back in order. Baby P should be with us in about 16 weeks (give or take a bit).Yikes! I have this lovely lovely baby quilt rolling around in my brain, with some red and some aqua blue on a creamy cream background.  But it's all still shrouded in mist and will doubtless unfold itself about the same time I pull the rotary cutter from the drawer. Tomorrow is a no can do day, and Thursday is already spoken for. So maybe on Friday I will clear the decks, trawl through the fabrics and see if they will take me from the river to the sea.

Until next time,

Evie xxx