quelle erqsome...

jellyfish and museums

On Sunday, Matthew and I biked down to the Horiman Museum to take in some jellyfish. Much to Matthew's chagrin, there are indeed pots at this museum, as well as jellyfish.

(If anyone has any suggestions in favour of museums that have no pots in them, please, please send them my way. I'm determined to show Matthew not all museums have pots in them, but have been largely unsuccessful thus far.) The jellyfish were spectacular, however. I could have stayed watching them for hours.

I'd rather hoped I'd be able to take some pictures of the Julia socks, which I finished well over a month ago, but it was spotty and dark when we finally emerged and that's no way to show off such a subtle pattern in such awesomely plum yarn.

Good times nonetheless.

ALSO: Thank you so much to everyone who emailed me 'Get Thee To A Doctor, Fool' after grumbling about sciatica-esque pains in my leg. I haven't made an appointment yet, which is dumb, I know, but I have started getting some actual exercise -- such as this bike ride up and down Forest Hill -- and that has done wonders. I've been running most mornings and cycling and since then have only had the very occasional twinge on those days I've done nothing but move from my bedroom in the morning to my desk and stayed there working till dinner. If it persists, even after a few more weeks of regular exercise, I will absolutely go to a doctor. However, at the moment regular exercise seems to be working its magic. If I'm right, all this means is that I'm going to be stuck forced to be physically healthy by getting daily exercise for the rest of my life. And that I can live with.

magical listness

This list is of things I wish not to forget:

1. I am in love with this poster. It cracks me up every time I look at it! I'm debating whether to get it for myself as an early birthday present or get it for Matthew for his. I'm just not sure how into zombies he is (but then, really, who isn't?).

2. With so many traditional crafts disappearing, this article is a fascinating look into those we're clinging on to. I'm torn between wanting to bring back the Sheffield Knife and making riddles.

3. In the past few weeks, I've let myself get seriously out of shape. I just feel so unhealthy, it's really bugging me. I went for a run this morning, the first since November, and I've been studying this page of yoga poses with great intent.

4. The part of me living in a small flat is really intrigued by this organisation. The part of me that's into gardening is doubly interested.

5. Long live this website. It makes my feminist roar and my femininist glee.

oh grumbles

It turns out I'm one of those dumbasses who will go on stoically experiencing pain until it becomes chronic and ugly before I consider going to the doctor. I have some type of sciatica-esque pain in my left leg that, while not crippling, has been making daily appearances for the last couple of months. It began sporadically a couple of years ago, when I was working in-house, and I always attributed it to being stuck at a desk. I think the relative lack of exercise I get while good studenting is definitely a contributing factor, but an otherwise healthy person of my age really shouldn't be getting chronic anything. It's indicative of some old injury that hasn't healed properly is my guess, which will likely either make it the (evil) spawn of the car accident I was involved in when I was 19 (run off the road, flew down a ravine, flipped twice, ended up facing back up the hill and was nearly killed by a tyre jack tucked under the driver's seat -- lesson 1: keep that thing SECURELY IN PLACE) or from when I concussed myself by shattering a 10-pound solid glass lamp shade over my head a couple years later.

But don't let any of this fool you into thinking I've actually made a doctor's appointment. Oh no. That would be giving in. Heaven forbid my doctor think I'm a giant wussface.

I will make that appointment eventually (unless Dr Quick would like to use me as part of her experiments?), but in the meantime I've gone back to an old nightly exercise routine and am making a point of getting up every 30 minutes or so and having a wander when I'm studying and will start running again as soon as it's not cold (I may have grown up in a country where winter is Winter, but that doesn't stop me being a baby). I'm also cutting back on salt and thinking about cutting back on caffeine in the hopes that such measures might be sufficient. However, I'd really like it to stop NOW. Grr.

alien vs. the woe betides

Tuesday night The Woe Betides played the Notting Hill Arts Club. It was a fantastic gig, no less because they debuted Bone on Bone which completely brought the house down, but also because the promoters were in league with Videopia and the whole gig helped swede Alien.

I play Kane for about 10 seconds. It was really good fun!

To all Americans, I apologise for everything. (I sound vaguely Scottish, with a hint of Sorry, What's That?) With me are (left to right) Steve, Woebie drummer drummer, aka Colonel Sexlife, [then me], Matthew, my love and Woebie, Sara, my friend and Woebie agent, and Simon, the third Woebie.

ravelympics -- the podium

It wasn't a hat trick, but that Lace Panel Cardi is done. In time for the closing ceremonies, button band lined and everything. I am immeasurably pleased with this little number. On me, it turned out to be a Victorian jacket of a cardigan, the high neck extending into a ruff, while the torso connives a bone-less corset. It's a shape that tends to suit me, if I do say so myself. But there are so many other reasons to love it. For one thing, it beats out the morning frost that seems to settle over the British Library over night, and is even warm enough to withstand the afternoon chill that seeps back in after lunch.

 

For another, I seamed it. I seamed it and I enjoyed seaming it. Weirdly, this has in no way made seaming any less daunting a prospect, but perversely its made me want to seam more. Perhaps I am a glutton for punishment.

For a third thing, I not only seamed it, but I followed the pattern pretty well exactly. This is not because I fear taking control of pattern and making it my own with modifications or harp overtures of respect for the design, because some times waist-shaping, shoulder-narrowing and hip-flaring are all musts. But I really liked the way this pattern read before I started and it appeared to coordinate with the pictures, so I figured let's do it. 

For a fourth thing, the buttons make me giddy. They came into my stash by complete fluke and although there are indeed nine button holes and only eight buttons, I like the way the button band branches out now at the very bottom. I think it lends itself nicely to the Victorian overtures.