About this time of year, when I have Really Had Enough of the cold, I remind myself – or try to remind myself – that I have survived far worse 🙂
Tag Archives: Italy
I blogged in 2007 to acknowledge the passing of one of the 20th century’s most remarkable singers Luciano Pavarotti and included some comments about my own memories associated with him. Of course I’d never met him but not for nothing had I lived in Italy where opera is a national sport and everyone has an opinion on which tenor is the best for any particular role.
Technology has defeated my acknowledging in a timely manner the passing of a remarkable human being in Nelson Mandela, but I couldn’t not do so. My personal memory around him relates to staying up late into the night (our time) to watch his televised release from Robben Island, even through the several, long delays. It seemed to be such a significant moment, full of hope for the oppressed in countries well beyond South Africa and far too important to miss.
As with Pavarotti, so with Mandela: a bright star has gone from our skies but we do not forget the light it shed in its prime.
12 Dec 2013: Apologies! My title disappeared in one of the many computer crashes and I didn’t notice! I can’t now remember precisely what I called this post, but it did related to luminaries in some way, I seem to recall. So, no, this isn’t a new post. Just the same one with a better title.
I once blogged about the scarcity of photographs reflecting my handiwork (sorry, I’d link to it but it’s among the lost posts). Recently, however, I’ve had cause to review that notion. Perhaps my handiwork is so much a part of everyday life that I forget it’s there. We have tablecloths and table napkins that are in use on a daily basis and whose appearance in photos is as unobtrusive as they are; but they’re there, utilitarian objects quietly doing what they’re intended to do. Lavender bags are everywhere, if fewer of them in photos. Sewn and knitted garments are often seen on folk and my recent Very Large Photo-scanning project, which saw me trawling through thousands of hard copy photos, made me realise anew that when you wear your own handknits, you just wear them and get on with life.
It turns out that I have photos of myself in most of the jumpers I’ve ever knitted (I can’t explain the missing two, except to think that perhaps I might have been camera-less around that time). The one above appears in many photos. I started knitting it before I left for Italy, put it away so I could knit a thick jumper for each of us, then hauled it out and finished it while I was in Italy. If you look carefully, you’ll see that Dr B is wearing a little beret made from some of the leftover yarn. I knitted a pair of socks and a beret for myself, too.
There’s no photographic record of the large, warm jacket I knitted and wore for years, at least not in my photos. Someone else might have one. I even have photos of myself in clothes that I’ve made, just incidental to everyday life. There are photos of my nieces wearing the christening gown I knitted. I know there’s a photo of Eldest Niece wearing the little angel top I knitted, though that’s not in my own collection. I know there are photos of her wearing the boatneck jumper I knitted as well as the stripy cardigan, because I have a recollection of seeing such things in other people’s photo albums. (And, by golly, that boatneck jumper was gorgeous!)
So, as I struggle with a backlog of WISPs – let’s call them, rather than the UFOs they’re rapidly becoming – it’s heartening to know that, yeah, I do finish things and people do wear them and they look all right (we might except the abovementioned stripy cardigan which, although a lovely garment, was rather large for its recipient; but, you know, she grew into it and it looked fine then and all the other kids would have worn it, too). One jumper I knitted for Dr B even made it onto national TV. Now that’s fame for you! There are any number of shots of us wearing my handknits among the photos recording our life in Italy. Those thick, warm jumpers were just the thing for those snowy winters. There are photos to prove it.