I guess it must be human nature, at least some of the time, to want what you can’t have. When things are chaotic and I don’t feel I have physical or mental space I crave being alone. When I achieve that my old fear of leaving the house comes back to haunt me. I must have spent about eight years struggling to leave the house alone but gladly going out when I was with someone. I’ve always said this doesn’t count as agoraphobia but it’s something close. It came about just after I met M and allowed him to do some of the things that I had always done for myself but decided would be easier for him to take over. So things like transactions in Post Office, petrol stations etc. The more he did the less stress I felt I had in my life until it actually became very stressful on the odd occasion that I did have to do those things again.
My recent journey to the caravan involved a fuel purchase. I also grabbed a bag of dog mixer and some milk. The first question I missed because I was retrieving a bag from my rain coat pocket was, ‘would you like a bag?’. The second one I missed was, ‘do you have a club card?’ I missed this because I was looking down into my purse for the payment card. The third question I missed was whether I had any fuel to pay for in addition to the dog biscuits and milk. Not once in any of this did the woman think, ah, this woman can’t hear unless she’s looking at me, and who can really blame her? It’s inside knowledge right? She did start every repeated question with, ‘I said…’ but at least she didn’t huff and puff and roll her eyeballs skyward like quite a few people I encounter.
My several days alone in the caravan with Riley for company and ears did necessitate a few more interactions like this one but it’s hardly an excuse to stay indoors and avoid people. I do sometimes feel like starting a campaign for fewer questions at check outs though!
When I met M he already owned a four year old black Labrador/Setter cross. He was totally adorable, a big softie. He did, however, have a ferocious sounding bark and his hackles use to rise from his neck all the way down his back if there was something he felt was threatening. Riley doesn’t have the hackles thing but I can tell from his expression what kind of warning he’s giving me when he barks. He did a slightly more ferocious sounding growl and bark very late one evening which unsettled me a bit but he stopped so it can’t have been anything too close. He seemed a bit confused when he realised it was just going to be the two of us and stayed even closer than usual, including waiting outside the bathroom door!
Riley and I were able, in amongst torrential downpours, to go on some nice long, faster paced walks, some involving a quick swim for him too. It’s really not unusual to trudge around in walking boots and a backpack in the Peak District because it’s walking country but I did feel a bit of a fraud when the ‘survival’ items in my backpack were strawberries, a bonio and a tartan blanket!
It’s surprising how fast a day to yourself goes when you factor in a short morning walk (for dog reasons!), gathering picnic supplies (strawberries), hiking, stopping for take out coffee (be silly not to) more hiking, dog swimming (essential) and home for crochet time, dog snoozing and cooking something simple for dinner like soup with part bake rolls. The fresh air exhausted us both and I was too tired to read on two nights out of the three.
I secretly enjoyed rebelling against M’s silly rule about the caravan shower. He seems to think it’s too much bother filling up the water tank for this when there are perfectly good facilities. My feeling is that you only fill the tank once in a while and it’s well worth it compared to having to walk some considerable distance in torrential rain to the ‘facilities’. Not only that but there’s something extremely cosy about having a steaming hot shower in a caravan that’s being pounded by noisy heavy rain. Riley approved too because he was able to lie down outside the bathroom door and wait, whereas he’d have been a bit anxious if I’d left him with all that rain noise. M thinks he’s a wimp but he was left for long periods of time on his own in his former life and he’s never really got over it.
Chaos soon returned with the arrival of M and Harvey, but I had missed Harvey 😉 and we did have a lovely day out in Bakewell on Sunday. The rain even held off until we were heading back. The dogs enjoyed a big long swimming session in a shallow part of the river away from all the ducks and people having picnics. We are obviously used to seeing them belly flop into the water and shove their heads under water looking for the stick we’ve thrown but after a while we realised that there was quite a crowd watching them from the bridge. I was a little embarrassed when we called Harvey out and he pretended not to hear. M said there was a lot of laughter at this point.
I don’t know what made me grab the t shirt yarn and take it with me but I did feel a bit guilty about having had it since our road trip round Italy. I could have made all sorts of things with it but in the end decided on a simple circular rug because we needed one! I say ‘we’ but it was J really. When he goes to brush his teeth or shave he always throws the bath mat down in front of the sink. Fair enough right? It’s the fact that he leaves it there instead of putting it back on the side of the bath that slightly annoys me. Call me odd but I kind of wanted the bath mat to be used for wet feet after a bath or shower, not a ‘let’s walk all over this mat all day long’ kind of mat. It’s hard to explain these things to a teenager, so instead I told J that I was going to crochet something especially for him. I think he was quite worried at first but was reassured after seeing some in progress pics. He loves the finished mat. In fact I can confidently call it the ‘let’s walk all over this mat all day long’ mat because I can just throw it in the washing machine as necessary.
Other crochet hasn’t been 100% successful. That little sleeveless cardigan from my last post got finished but I realised once I was down to the body width that it was probably more suited to a five year old than a two year old. The pattern called for four ply with a 3.5mm hook. I used dk with a 4mm hook but made a whole size less than required. You’d think that would be a reasonable adjustment wouldn’t you? I was using the ‘actual’ chest measurements as a guide too. It’ll be stored away for future use, I’ll take a photo of it sometime anyway, the mother of pearl buttons looked just right against the yarn.
Not deterred I started another cardigan using the same pattern but this time went down yet another size. I used a slightly less thick dk yarn. The final chest measurement still came out far too generous so that one will also have to be wrapped up and saved for at least a year. You can guess what my third attempt will be! Yep, four ply yarn! I’m only left with trying to make the 6-9 month size in dk to try and get a cardigan to fit a two year old and that just doesn’t sound feasible so I’m going to use the yarn and hook size suggested and do a tension swatch as well!