“Properly practiced, knitting soothes the troubled spirit…"

"…and it doesn't hurt the untroubled spirit either.” 


Last summer my work colleague Sacha convinced another of our colleagues, Sabina, to teach her how to knit. I was immediately very jealous as knitting is one of those things I’ve tried in the past and not really got the hang of. Crochet I could teach myself the basics, but I although I remember my Grandma teaching me how to knit, the art of casting on never stuck in my brain. 

As I am so super-cool, I immediately renamed this beginner knitting class as Knit Club. Which, as more members joined, became the Woolf Pack (hilarious, non?). 

Sabina is incredibly artistic and creative but more to her credit she has this seemingly unending kindness. Sacha and I must have driven her mad in the early days – constantly counting each stitch as we made it. Adding stiches and dropping others - always panicking and running straight to her for help, never able to fix things ourselves.

She didn’t get to knit anything for herself, poor thing, but she has a lasting legacy in Sacha and myself as we both fell in love with knitting straight away. I now feel odd if I don’t have a knitting project underway, or one waiting in the wings for the next time I have a few hours to kill in front of the telly.

Christmas was my time for publicly ‘coming out’ to my family as a knittist (as CB calls me). I successfully finished cardigans and elephants for each of my niblings:

 

 


And a matching scarf, mittens and hat for my sister:

 

Though that scarf was not how I wanted it to be - 4 months after knitting it that still irritates me...Grr…

I recently spent a month in New Zealand (more on that at a later date) and to my horror I discovered Singapore Airlines won’t let you bring knitting needles in your carry-on luggage. Thank goodness I checked before going to the airport, but still – what else is a Philly supposed to do on a 28 hour flight? In the end I didn’t take my knitting at all. I didn’t have any downtime while in NZ (too much to do!) so without the flights for knitting time there didn’t seem much point. 

Now I’m back in Blighty I can settle back into my knitting. It felt a bit odd for those first few stitches, but it must be like riding a bike because I’m already halfway into my sleeve! Hopefully I’ll have the finished object to show you before too long….


* Quote from Elizabeth Zimmerman.

"Summertime..."

"...and the livin' is easy."


This month I resolved to solidify my positive thinking. 

Sounds like mumbo jumbo? It's just a hoity-toity way of saying that I took a moment at the end of every day to name one thing I'd learned that day, and decide what my favourite moment was. This is a really lovely thing to do, makes you all happy before you go to bed.

Unfortunately I am a waste of a brain as I mostly forgot to do it!

I did spend a lot of time on holiday (to varying degrees) so mostly I was pretty happy and learning lots of new things anyway, so maybe that counts...??

My "Favourite Day of the Month" has a few contenders. Here are my top three:

3. My friend's Hen Party in Cambridge. 

Really fun activities and such a great group of ladies. 

2. Pompeii in Italy with my sister, brother-in-law and CB. 

If you haven't been - go! 

1. Plitvicka in Croatia with CB. 

Absolutely beautiful national park. Even the crowds couldn't ruin it. 

A special mention to my my time in Dubrovnik. I wanted it on the list, but I can't think of a stand-out day as they were all so fantastic! 

My three "Favourite Things I Have Learned This Month" are:

3. Philippa Langley is reopening the 'Princes in the Tower' case. 

She's working with the Richard III Society to find the truth of the longstanding rumour that they died by the last Plantagenet's hand...

2. It's well known that St Paul's was hit by a bomb in WWII. 

What was only recently discovered during cleaning was that this blast blew the dome clean off, but it fell straight back down! Although there is a crack running the entire way round, the City Surveyor has confirmed this remains structurally sound and there is no need to fix it. 

1. There is a story that Dubrovnik asked all men coming to the city to bring a block of stone. 

It also asked all women coming to bring an egg. These all went to build the walls - the cement is supposedly made from egg whites (albumen) mixed with urine. LOVELY. 

So apologies for a rubbish month, but hopefully not for this entry.
Though, apologies I'm writing about August in September. As we have previously noted, I am a waste of a brain.



*Quote from Gershwin

"What good is the warmth of summer..."

"...without the cold of winter to give it sweetness."


This month was one I had planned since I started this New Year's thingamabob:

To go swimming in the Hampstead Heath Ponds. 

It's been quite a busy month actually, so there was only one weekend with the opportunity to go. Which was pretty early in the month. And I was chicken. 

But, true to form, I figured I'd just go ahead and do it anyway. Didn't have a swimsuit, but after doctoring a too-big bikini top (Tesco's finest) and buying some very lairy swimming shorts, I was good to go.

We had a bit of a faff getting in - CB and I had no change on us as we didn't know about the £2 cover charge, so we too a walk into Hampstead to get some out. Then we walked all the way back to find out we could get in for free with our work passes. Sigh...

It was very busy there, everyone camped out on their towels like sardines, but everyone was friendly and I was happy to leave my bag while I went off for a swim.

CB and I both opted for the 'whole-body-submersion' technique, rather than 'gradually-lowering-yourself-in", and I was very grateful as it was FREEZING. After some brisk swimming (staying mainly in the sunshiney patches) you do warm up, and it feels very refreshing. Plus the joy of being in a park rather than a swimming pool is very novel to me and I absolutely loved it.

We went for two swims, but the second one was cut short by my incessant goose pimples. In fact, once we got out I noticed my fingernails were a lovely blueish hue, and the feeling in the pad of my right thumb didn't come back until later that night!

Despite the frostbite, I would thoroughly recommend this to everyone, and will happily accompany anyone who is unsure!

*Quote from John Steinbeck

"I have not failed..."

"...I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work."


Today is my 10,000th day alive.

My 10,000th diemverary, if you like. (And I do like.)

Now I am officially old, I have come to realise that I don't really give a crap what other people think of me anymore.

Now I realise that many people probably never cared too much about what people thought of them, and I am know for unashamably being a weirdo, but there are certain things that I just can't be bothered to care about anymore.

1. Noisy wees. 
I'm sure it's different for men, but we ladies can find it a bit cringy when we wee noisily in a public loo. I know this isn't just me because you'll hear someone start to tinkle, then stop after a couple of seconds and try again. They are trying to muffle the noise. 
I don't know why we ever cared, but it's stupid. Why would anyone judge you for a noisy wee? What are they going to do? Drop by your table 5 minutes later and mention to your mates "Your mate, that blonde one there, pisses like a HORSE!" If anything, that would be hilarious.
Anyway, I have noticed that I now wee away and do not stifle my urination.
Personal growth? I think so.

2. Being a fatty.
I have a bad habit of booking gym classes, like a good human, and then cancelling them on the day because I want to go home and sit instead. Or go to the pub. And I've always felt guilty about this in the past, particularly when others are proper gym bunnies, but I have now reached an age where I just don't care who knows if I am ridiculously lazy.
Maybe my purpose in life is to make others feel better about themselves? Who cares!

3. Being a fool at work.
Anyone who works with me might be surprised to know I ever tried to conceal my idoicy, but it is true. I am clumsy. I am excitable. I am easily amused by immature things ("Where's the stapler?" "UP YOUR BUM!"). And sometimes I forget the limitations of my own body. Example - I was sitting at my desk the other morning, legs curled up under me as usual, when I had to go to someone else's desk to discuss something. I got up, stepped out, and realised my entire leg was numb. So I fell - slowly - arms flailing and possibly shrieking slightly. One of the Members (AKA An Important Person) turns to my boss and says "Is she fit for work?" obviously thinking I was still drunk from the dinner the night before. My boss, the amazing woman she is, replied "Yeah, she's pretty much like that all the time."
Been there almost two years people, no need to hide my inner-idiot.

There are other things but, as I mentioned previously, I am lazy and I can't be bothered to list anymore.

My name is Philly, I am 10,000 days old, and I am an odd human - and proud.


*Quote from Thomas Edison

"Green was the silence, wet was the light..."

"...The month of June trembled like a butterfly."


I have kept a diary since I was about 13 or 14. At times in my life I have written every day, other times it's been more sporadic. I'm not really sure what I write about...I tend to shove everything in there that I shouldn't share with the people around me.

It's great to read back on; remember how I felt about something, see how I coped before if I'm encountering a similar problem, trying to remember the good/bad things about something or someone when I can only feel the opposite...

• If I'm worrying and ruminating incessantly about something, and everyone is sick of the back teeth of hearing me talk about it, I can fill up a few pages full of every possibly scenario...and it's out, I feel better. 

• If I'm in two minds about doing something (going somewhere, messaging someone, etc) I can list out all the pros and cons - even if they are things I wouldn't necessarily want to share with someone!
  
• If I am so full of a feeling and I just want to capture it in some way... I am a verbal creature and I am most comfortable using words rather than any other creative outlet.
  
• If I am lacking in feeling and I want to assess what's wrong...
  
• If I have resolved to do something (lose weight, stop smoking etc.) recording that resolution in the diary makes it feel more official, harder to break.

This month I resolved to write in my diary every day. It's been a couple of years since I've consistently written in my diary, and my head feels untidier for it.

Although (surprise surprise) I didn't remember to write every night, I'm not too bothered. There were nights I wrote and didn't have a lot to say. I think the whole exercise has been beneficial - when I'm troubled I will think to vent in the diary sooner - but it reinforces that a diary is a creature born of desire. A need to write, not just a record of what I did or thought that day. It is an overflow space for my brain, not my calendar.


*Quote from Pablo Neruda

"The world's favorite season is the spring..."

"...All things seem possible in May."


This month I was supposed to complete attempt Tough Mudder, a ridiculous assault course for the mightiest of Phillies. Which, of course, I am.

Unfortunately, owing to reasons I am not at liberty to discuss (but I swear are proper legitimate reasons, not just me being a wuss) we had to postpone it until next year.

But fear not Philly Fans! Instead, this month I witnessed something I have wanted to see for months...

I saw the International Space Station.

I was round my Sister's house, which is in rural Essex and has an absolutely fantastic view of open countryside. It was very late, my Sister had gone to bed and my Brother-in-Law and I were up watching Spartacus and drinking cider. At about 1am we checked the ISS app, and saw it was due to grace our skies in half an hour. I set an alarm, and we continued to drink. However, my stupid alarm never went off, and we missed it. We were not happies. We checked the app again and saw a better pass was expected at 3am. We were already sleepy, but decided to power through and stay up to watch it.

Short story, we struggled to stay awake, but a few minutes before 3am we huddled in a blanket and shuffled down to the end of the garden. And it was SO WORTH IT.

The ISS went across the whole sky. I was worried I wouldn't recognise it, but it goes so quickly and is so bright I needn't have. It's so beautiful. I follow NASA etc on Twitter, so I see a lot of the photos they post from up there...and knowing the astronauts were up there looking down on us was mind-boggling.

I will totally stay up and see it again, and I urge all of you to download the free app and see it too.


*Quote from Edwin Way Teale

"It was a bright cold day in April..."

"...and the clocks were striking thirteen."


This month I forgot to resolve anything in particular, so April has been a bit mixed.

I spent the first weekend in Paris, the second in Amsterdam, the third in deepest Essex, and the fourth in our nation's capital.

I started consistently bringing lunch in from home, or stocking my locker at work with soup. Woo.

I attended the gym each week (although that was more in preparation for next month's challenge...which is now cancelled...plus I didn't actually go this week as I had a tantrum...)

I saw two short plays directed by an old friend. Which were superb and really made me think.

I completed a murder mystery treasure-hunt. That was brilliant actually.

I saw Oppenheimer at the Vaudeville. Which was fantastically wacky and horribly upsetting.

I moved house, though technically that was the end of March...

I ate a couple of Easter Eggs.

Running out of things to write now....sigh...


I'm sorry this is a really dull post! It really wasn't a dull month...



*Quote from George Orwell