The Grafting Mantra

I have finished my rather jazzy socks as you can see, Two 50 grams of Regia 6ply Colour 05956 easily made a pair for me and I could have made the legs 2" longer if I had so desired but I do have small feet so maybe it would have taken the 3 balls that it advises you on the label to buy for a pair of socks.The pattern was a printed sheet that I got free from the not so Angelic online wool shop with wool for my last pair said 2 balls so I stuck with that.

They are a bit on the thick side but they knitted up in the blink of an eye and will be just fine for inside my boots. The grafting mantra I refer to is of course when I had to graft the toe stitches together. Yes, I know most people call it Kitchener stitch but in my day it was always called grafting. Anyway who is this Kitchener? I can only graft with the aid of my tutorial propped in front of me, and total silence except for my chanting


FRONT; KNIT; REMOVE

FRONT; PURL; LEAVE ON

BACK; PURL; REMOVE

BACK; KNIT; LEAVE ON

I watch other people do this whilst chatting and I wonder if I have a mental blind spot or whether I am just thick as although I have now done this many times the method never stays in my head from one graft to another, even from one sock to another! Perhaps I should try to learn it parrot fashion as I did with my times tables at school.

I have finished the second sleeve of my niece's chunky jacket and am poised ready to either carry on with the back or start a front. I do have the itchy hook syndrome though and have brought some grey and white random cotton down from my stash to sneak in a bit of washcloth crochet. I do have an excuse, my kitchen cloths are starting to get holes and are looking very shabby so I really NEED to do some crochet. Well that's my excuse and I am sticking to it.

I re-gilded the lily this morning. Well come on now - you didn't think I was a natural blonde did you? I am really looking forward to the day that I go grey and then I don't have such dark roots to attend to. My brother didn't go grey until his 70's the same as my mother so I have a while to go yet. The only comforting thought is that both my mother and my maternal grandmother went pure white instead of going grey and I hope that I finish up with that same gorgeous colour. I know that I shouldn't blow my own trumpet but check out that forehead. No Botox there and yet barely a wrinkle. Thank God for good genes and regular moisturising. My Grandmother used to use Imperial Leather soap and Ponds cream every day and she had beautiful skin in her 90's. My Mother brought me up on Oil of Ulay (as it was called in those days) but I did veer off it to various other products once I left home. Thankfully I have never smoked so I don't have to worry about the cat's bum mouth lines, just worry about the fact that my lower eyelashes seem to have disappeared over the years.

Dismal day today. The rain has been bucketing down since the early hours. Thankfully I don't have to go out beyond the dustbin. My request to the Universe has so far brought me an offer of a drink (sorry but aren't you married?) and offer of a meal out (this guy would need a hoist to get out of his chair so I think he should step away from the pies. I know that I am not exactly Twiggy but he would make 3 of me) so I am not counting this as much of a success yet. Still it's early days yet.

My budding would be romance has really hit the buffers so I think I can will regretfully have to draw a line under him ( Well he was rather good looking so I gave him more chances than I would have normally) He will never know what he is missing now (Pause here whilst I give my trumpet a loud toot). TOOOOOT. Aw come on now everyone needs a good toot now and again. Helps me to keep my morale up on this dark, wet miserable day,