Jumping back in
Do you remember the skipping rope games from your childhood playground? Do you remember how the girls would play all lunch-break with a skipping rope, strange nonsensical chants, murmured in singsong voices. Never taught, just absorbed. Small girls would watch the big girls, longing to be allowed or capable of joining in and eventually a rite of passage would take place and you would somehow be able to skip, having practised for hours at home and then maybe with a few good friends or a couple of adults willing to turn the rope you would learn how to jump right in. It was so nerve wracking, it took such courage, watching the rope turn, listening to that swish of the rope, the click as it hit the ground, watching how the others did it, knowing just the right moment to take a deep breath and make that leap of faith.
Do you remember the first time you did it in a playground full of your peers? How terrified you felt as you waited your turn and then the relief, the exhilaration when you made it, when you timed it right. How the rope kept turning smoothly and for one verse of the rhyme it was your turn to skip whilst the next anxiously excited girl awaited her turn.
I thought of those games today, returning to blogging after a week or so absence is certainly not as nerve-wracking as taking your turn in the skipping game but it is surprising how quickly ones blogging can seize up. How hard it can seem to post again even after a short absence.
But here I am jumping right in, nothing terribly exciting to show but it's a start, it gets the rope turning and even as I write this post my ideas begin to grow and other posts pop into my head.
I think the household is just about returned to full health and I eagerly cheered November out the door and my mood is much improved by the arrival of a crisp, frosty December. I bottled jars of mincemeat yesterday and a festive feeling is gently creeping in.
The scarf is River from Rowan 38 , a simple lace stole, it knitted up quickly in Diana 2ply from Poshyarn , it is light and comfortable to wear, long enough to wrap around several times if necessary and thankfully this attempt at River was rather more successful than the first time I made it, several years ago. That particular River was the victim of a dog with a thing for Kidsilk Haze......
Do you remember the skipping rope games from your childhood playground? Do you remember how the girls would play all lunch-break with a skipping rope, strange nonsensical chants, murmured in singsong voices. Never taught, just absorbed. Small girls would watch the big girls, longing to be allowed or capable of joining in and eventually a rite of passage would take place and you would somehow be able to skip, having practised for hours at home and then maybe with a few good friends or a couple of adults willing to turn the rope you would learn how to jump right in. It was so nerve wracking, it took such courage, watching the rope turn, listening to that swish of the rope, the click as it hit the ground, watching how the others did it, knowing just the right moment to take a deep breath and make that leap of faith.
Do you remember the first time you did it in a playground full of your peers? How terrified you felt as you waited your turn and then the relief, the exhilaration when you made it, when you timed it right. How the rope kept turning smoothly and for one verse of the rhyme it was your turn to skip whilst the next anxiously excited girl awaited her turn.
I thought of those games today, returning to blogging after a week or so absence is certainly not as nerve-wracking as taking your turn in the skipping game but it is surprising how quickly ones blogging can seize up. How hard it can seem to post again even after a short absence.
But here I am jumping right in, nothing terribly exciting to show but it's a start, it gets the rope turning and even as I write this post my ideas begin to grow and other posts pop into my head.
I think the household is just about returned to full health and I eagerly cheered November out the door and my mood is much improved by the arrival of a crisp, frosty December. I bottled jars of mincemeat yesterday and a festive feeling is gently creeping in.
The scarf is River from Rowan 38 , a simple lace stole, it knitted up quickly in Diana 2ply from Poshyarn , it is light and comfortable to wear, long enough to wrap around several times if necessary and thankfully this attempt at River was rather more successful than the first time I made it, several years ago. That particular River was the victim of a dog with a thing for Kidsilk Haze......
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