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