Eden Project - Time of Gifts

(picture heavy)

Steve recently finished what I shall tactfully describe as a "gruelling" work contract (and yes, that is putting it mildly) which took a toll on both of us, and we decided that we were owed a little break before getting into the fun of preparing for Christmas and trying to figure out where our life goes next.

Given a free choice of anywhere to go, nine times out of ten I will pick the Eden Project (the tenth time I will beg to stay in bed and be brought cups of tea). In the last year we've been to Cornwall three times, and on each occasion we've visited the Project for two or three days, and I still always feel sad to leave.

Last time we went was in May, when it looked like this:


In November, even inside the Biomes, it's more like this:


I still get a great sense of peacefulness and well-being from the Project. And the access. Oh, the access. No being sent round the back, no staff tutting at you if you can't keep up, no "special" holding pens areas, no leaving you sitting by the bins while they try to find out if anyone knows where the keys for the service lift have got to. Universal design, access is front doors and main paths all the way. The slopes can be a bit of a workout and there is a certain amount of mileage involved in getting around the place, but they have scooters and powerchairs which can be booked in advance. November being the off-season, they weren't all booked out, so at the gate I was politely offered the option of using one of their powerchairs "if it would be easier." More importantly, my choice of sticking with my own chair was accepted without fuss.

As he tends to, Steve took hundreds of photographs of all sorts of beautiful plants, flowers, sculptures and suchlike, and I'm sure soon he'll load them up to his Flickr stream which will be much better than me trying to describe. But he's let me pop a few onto my own Flickr stream so that I can blog this.

The second day of our stay, the Friday, was the beginning of the winter celebrations at Eden, which they call the "Time of Gifts". There is, of course, a Father Christmas with a cohort of elves and a stable full of actual reindeer, much of which is centred around the Sami people of Northern Europe. I was more interested in the goings-on within the Mediterranean Biome, though - storytelling, music and craft activities particularly. There are definitely worse things to do on a Friday afternoon than to sit and make Christmas decorations and chat with a bunch of friendly strangers, listening to live music and surrounded by the gorgeous smells of Mediterranean plants. As it got darker, Steve returned from his photography spree and brought me a hot chocolate to warm me up while we listened to the evening story and music.



Then it was time to leave the Biome and get ready for the lantern parade. There were large sculpture lanterns being carried mostly by staff and volunteers, but anyone who wanted could join in the parade with a pyramid-shaped lantern on a stick, with a candle inside it. Anywhere else, I'd have assumed I couldn't participate. At Eden, no one batted an eyelid. So here I am, in front of the big Christmas tree outside the Core, carrying a lantern wedged between my legs and my wheelchair, waiting for the parade to start:

And modelling my own handknit hat by the light of my lantern:


The procession began with large sculpture-lanterns coming down the ZigZag path towards the Core building, where we were waiting. It was an impressive sight, although with a slightly hairy moment as a nearby child forgot to pay attention to his own lantern (my reaction of "excuse me! please don't set fire to me!" made me realise just how incurably English I can be). As the sculpture-lanterns and their accompanying drummers came past, we were filtered into the procession. It was quite a strange experience to be actively participating in something like this, being one of lots of little bits. There was a very carnival atmosphere.


The procession wound around the gardens outside the Biomes, lit by flame torches with occasional groups of non-participating onlookers. It ended by a gazebo of fairy-lights, where the Eden Choir were waiting to perform. Since the wheelchair makes me an honorary short person, I was ushered to the front with the kids so we could see.



Listening to the Eden Choir was lovely, and some of the drummers joined in ad lib. Then there was a short and unexpected burst of fireworks which sent Steve whirling around to try and catch a shot:


Finally, this lovely piece of fire art, lit while the choir sang, reminded me very much of the Paralympic closing ceremony which meant that in a strange way it reminded me of summer again.

Getting on with 2010

Life has been (mostly) nicely full since my last post.

The biggest nice thing was that Steve and I went on a little weekend jaunt to the top left north-west corner of Wales. There wasn't a special reason beyond "getting out" and in many ways I think that made it even more enjoyable. We were supposed to have another friend with us, but unfortunately he had to drop out at the last minute... in retrospect that's probably a good thing because I don't think Steve's car was built to hold more than two adults for long journeys.

So we spent Saturday trundling as far as Bangor, where we stopped overnight at a Travelodge, and then on Sunday we picked up a load of leaflets from the foyer to see if there were any particularly appealing attractions. Which there were, but for some unfathomable reason most of them aren't open until Easter. Tsk. So we decided to take our trek to the top left north west corner to extremes, and headed over the bridges to Anglesey, and thence to Holy Island.

On the way we stopped in at Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch and got a couple of postcards, because we couldn't not. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day, so we then continued on to the bird sanctuary at South Stack. There was wheelie access right up to the clifftop (and probably right off the clifftop if you weren't careful) and it was lovely to be able to sit there watching the sun, sea, waves, lighthouse, birds, boats, and also looking out for our own noses falling off with frostbite because it was COLD! Still, that's only to be expected for January.

Steve tucked me back into the car to defrost while he ran about taking more photos. I got out my phone to amuse myself and was a little disturbed to find a text message from my mobile phone provider welcoming me to Ireland and advising me of the Euro Roaming Charges. I don't know whether to be peeved at the lack of local signal, or be impressed that my phone was getting a signal from over 60 miles away.

The rest of my enjoyment of the beautiful scenery was from inside the car, but it most definitely was beautiful. We found time to stop at Trefriw Woollen Mills which was nice in a "yay! found yarny!" way, but again, most of the features apart from the shop were closed up for the winter.

Poor Steve obviously had sole responsibility for the driving which meant that he was as shattered as I was by the time we got home. A substantial part of last week was spent with me taking it as easy as possible during the day, to make sure that when he crawled in after work in the evening I wouldn't have to ask him to do as much.

Then on Friday, just as we were picking up again, we both came down with the latest illness sweeping around his office! It was a really nasty one with fevers and yuck - one of those ones where you decide you can't cook, order a takeaway, and then it arrives and you just look at it, knowing that you should eat, but unable to bring yourself to actually do it. Happily it was just a two-or-three-days one and we're both feeling a lot better now.

The business stuff is all but ready to go now, thanks to the help of the Prince's Trust. There's still a few chains to be completed, silly things like: I want to pay for my insurance, domain name, etc, from the business account; I'd rather not start charging things to that account until I'm certain that the capital I paid in has cleared; I won't know if it's cleared until I've had a look in the online banking; I can't look at the online banking until I have all my login details. But the bits and bobs are in place. Mainly I just have to man (woman?) the heck up and take the plunge of registering.

Knitting - G1 cosy

G1 cosy - front
Originally uploaded by girl_of_bats

I've recently upgraded my phone to a G1, and one thing about the G1, there aren't a lot of cases available. It comes with a plain black neoprene sleeve to protect it from knocks, but I wanted something a bit more personal, so I made this. It makes use of deliberate mistakes and was inspired by Kate Haxell's "sheryl" bag in issue 14 of Let's Knit! (Jan 2009). I made it with DK yarn leftovers that I happened to have handy, but I'm considering making another one with purpose-bought yarns, maybe in more summery colours.

MATERIALS

Just under two 1/2 skeins (60 yds each) of dk yarn in contrasting colours. I used Rowan RYC Extra Fine Merino DK in red (Yarn A) and Rowan Pure Wool DK in indigo (Yarn B). Any DK yarn should be fine.

4mm needles (or size needed to get gauge)
3.5mm needles (or a size or two smaller than previous needles)
Cable needle
Tapestry needle for sewing up

This phone cosy is knit as a single strip of fabric, folded once, and sewn up the long sides. It is supposed to be in addition to the functional-but-boring case provided. It has one decorative side, and one tighter-knit and plainer side, to protect the screen of the G1 if you aren't using the original case.

Using larger needles and Yarn A, cast on 22sts.

Row 1: (k1, p1) to end. Repeat for a further 9 rows (moss stitch).

Starting with a k row, work 6 rows st st.

Row 17: k7, c6f (put 3 sts on the cable needle and hold at front of work, k the next 3 sts, then k the 3 sts from the cable needle), k to end.

Row 18: p

Row 19: k9, m1, k to end.

Starting with a p row, work 5 rows st st.

Row 25: k15, p1, k1, p1, k to end.
Row 26: p3, k1, p1, k1, p1, k1, p to end.
Repeat these two rows twice more.

Row 31: k3, switch to Yarn B (YB) k3, switch to Yarn A (YA), k to end.
Row 32: p16, YB, p3, YA, p3.
Repeat these two rows once.

Row 35: k3, YB, k3, YA, k3, drop stitch (DON'T PANIC! This is the m1 stitch from row 19 and so will only unravel back that far), knit the next stitch tightly, k to end.

Row 36: p15, YB, p3, YA, p to end.
Row 37: k3, YB, k3, YA, k to end.
Repeat these two rows once.

Row 40: p15, YB, p3, YA, p to end carrying YB behind work to end of row.

Row 41 (YB) purl. This forms the fold line for the bottom edge of the case.
Row 42: purl, and switch to smaller needles.

Row 43 (and all odd rows): k3, YA, k3, YB, k to end.
Row 44 (and all even rows): p15, YA, p3, YB, p to end.

Repeat these two rows until the second half of the case is the same length as the first, not including the moss stitch section. For me, with these yarns, this took me to row 76. Carry Yarn A to the end of the final row.

Row 77: YA, change to larger needles, knit to end.

Row 78: (k1, p1) to end. Repeat for a further 9 rows (moss stitch).

Row 88: Cast off.

Making up: fold the fabric at the fold line and sew the two long edges using mattress stitch. Sew in ends. Make sure the dropped stitch has laddered properly, back to the cable. Tie a little of yarn B around the cable, or any other adornments you want.

Interview Fail

I had my interview this morning. It was basically the job I'd interviewed for back in the summer, same interviewers and everything. It lasted about three minutes - a very good and positive three minutes, it must be said, although it mostly concerned the weather and how much nicer it had been on the previous occasion - before it became apparent that we were talking about a full-time position, 37 hours a week.

I cannot do 37 hours a week. I wish I could but there is no Reasonable Adjustment in the world that would make it possible.

I don't know what happened. I apply for all the part-time admin jobs on the website, but never the full-times because I know I can't do it. Maybe I misread or mis-clicked. Maybe they'd left a part-time designator on the title by mistake. Maybe it was a callback of candidates from the previous (part-time) post in the summer. Who knows. Upshot was, I'd got myself geared up and excited about things and suddenly I was in an interview for a job that I could not possibly manage.

If there is one thing I hate more than "not being able to do things that I want to do because of my disability", it is "having to admit to other people that I cannot do something."

As I explained to the interviewers that I would not be able to do a full-time job and apologised for having wasted their time, all the adrenalin and good-outcome visualisations that had me psyched up and positive and confident for the interview got snarled up in the crushing sensation of having to admit my inadequacies. God knows what my face must have looked like.

The interviewers were being really nice about it, and the nicer they were, the worse it got - I wanted to just shake hands and find a bolt-hole where I could cry for a minute and then recompose myself, but they could see I was disappointed and embarrassed and they were offering me a drink and asking if I was sure I would be okay to get home, because if I had a lift arranged they didn't mind me sticking around for a while, and did I want to call anyone...

Then I tried to stand up, fumbled my walking stick, it fell away from me and I tried to bend down but I couldn't, and one of the interviewers passed it to me, and I just felt smaller and smaller and smaller.

Scuttled into the loo on my way out, had my minute of crying before realising that on autopilot I'd gone into the disabled loo. It is one thing to tie up one of several available stalls in the ladies for a snivel, but quite another to tie up the only accessible toilet for a purpose other than the obvious. So I rushed a half-arsed job of calming myself down, didn't hang about to repair my makeup, and took the lift down to the foyer to call a cab. As I stepped out of the lift, there were the interviewers, coming down the stairs, taking advantage of the unexpected half-hour break, and there was me, blotchy of face and obviously far more upset than any sane person should be over a goddamn admin job. They were nice again, making sure I could call a cab and so on, and I did my best to brazen it out - oh well, hopefully you won't mind me coming back if there's another part-time job here and I haven't embarrassed myself too badly, ho ho ho - but there's only so much bluff a person can pull off when the world can see that the tears have only just stopped rolling, and while they said I absolutely should continue to apply for future part-time jobs, well, what else could they have said?

The problem isn't that I didn't get the job. The problem is that I didn't get the job because of factors beyond my control that I cannot find a way around. I do a pretty good job of convincing myself that despite my illness, I am doing okay at life, and with a few exceptions, I can do anything I put my mind to. The exceptions rankle though, and one of the biggest exceptions is my inability to consistently and reliably function at a high enough level to be able to hold down a full-time job.

Back home and with a cup of tea inside me, I know I probably should have continued with the interview, made them love me, and then tried to persuade them to drop the hours down, but I didn't have it in me.

The best thing about today so far is that last night I had the foresight to cast on for a sock to take with me and occupy myself while waiting for my post-interview cab. I would have gone nuts if I hadn't had something to do with my hands while waiting. Especially when the next person with "here for interview" tattoed on their forehead (ok, but) strolled into the foyer and took a seat to wait.

That'll teach me to get lulled into a false sense of security by life going smoothly.

My computer is unwell at the moment so I'm not online so much. Right now I'm using Steve's eeePC which is, well, it's okay but the screen and keyboard are tiny, it's not a main computer.

I'm back in my jeans and t-shirt now, feeling like a massive loser and really not ready to go and spend another afternoon of my life putting CDs in boxes. If I'm still doing that when I'm thirty then I want one of you to come and euthanise me, okay?

Things are going well

It's been a great week.

First of all, those persistent Unbloggables that have been filling up large parts of my headspace are now mostly resolved, and I wish I could explain better, but it's Someone Else's Business really.

Secondly, Steve's been paid, and while we're not buying a house/going on holiday/planning a wedding/bathing in Cristal just yet, the light at the end of the tunnel has proved to be sunshine rather than the oncoming train we feared. We have finally been able to make some headway on long-overdue essential expenses as well as a couple of little treats.

So thirdly, I finally have the Panda Silk I have been lusting after since Christmas. I wasn't going to get it yet - at £6.45 per 50g ball it's expensive and technically there are more important things we should be spending money on - but Steve knew I was after it, so when he knew he'd been paid, he got on the phone to Anna at Web of Wool and arranged with her that he would pay for four balls of Panda Silk, for me to choose the colours I wanted when I came in for knitting group. And lo, for Mary did SQUEEE quite a lot before choosing two balls of blue-ey "denim tones" which I think will become socks, and two balls of green-ey "fern tones" which might become a shawl - I'm feeling brave enough to make a careful attempt at lace knitting and I've found an allegedly simple pattern.

Fourthly, and still in the knitting theme, I have finished the knitting for my jumper. I plan to start sewing it up as soon as I've been able to run Bloop around a bit, which I can't do just yet because it's still a bit antisocially early for a Sunday morning.

Fifthly, although you just know I'm going to lose count soon... Remember Georgette the Courgette? Well, she grew and grew and grew some more until she was festooned with very definitely identifiable yellow courgette fruits. And at this point things went runny, because although 101 people have offered 101 recipes for courgette, my kitchen skills for things like safely peeling and chopping and dealing with hot pans and so on are HIGHLY limited, and Steve is suspicious of vegetables in general, and in particular, vegetables that don't even have the courtesy to be green (tomatoes are apparently excused on the basis of being a core component of ketchup).

Not wanting the courgettes to go to waste, I asked our next-door neighbour if she wanted them and invited her to help herself at any time. She seemed very pleased about this, and I was happy too because I like it when I feel like I live in a community, next thing I knew, she offered to put some into a lasagne for us! Which she did, and Steve and I ate it last night with some nice ciabatta bread, and it was delicious and we ate every bit.

uh...

Nextly, I've had the paperwork for my DLA appeal through. This means I've seen the GP's report (short but supportive) and feel confident that yes, the DWP have ignored vast chunks of evidence and the appeal has a good chance.

There is a slight question-mark over getting to the appeal though. It's in a large building (too large for walking, I'd need to be pushed in the wheelchair) in Birmingham (which is too far away for a taxi and community transport has to be pre-booked which wouldn't work for the way home as I don't know how long it will take). I'm not sure, but I really doubt that my representative from the Welfare Rights place is also going to be able to drive me there and back, not to mention sit with me, push the wheelchair, and be a shoulder to cry on if it all goes horribly wrong. Even if she could, it's not her job. Steve should be able to take me and if he can, it's all good, but we have this horror that he might not be able to - you only get 14 days notice of the Appeal date which might not be enough for him to get a day off work - and we don't know if we could find anyone else to help. So on Monday I'm calling the Welfare Rights organisation to see if they have any ideas. They must have experienced this before. Still, at least that'll be an end of it one way or another. Which is a Good Thing.

And Finally, it looks like we might be getting some help from Social Services. No word yet on what you might call Daily help, but apparently as Steve is my sole carer, we're eligible for an emergency scheme whereby if he's suddenly hospitalised or something, an emergency carer will come and "live-in" with me to fulfil his role for up to 72 hours until something more sustainable, such as a short stay in a residential home or additional visiting care, can be arranged. Certain amount of paperwork, but isn't there always.

The Top Seekrit Project

Finished hairband
Originally uploaded by girl_of_bats

It being several days since the recipient of the Top Seekrit Project recipificated it, I can now reveal that the Project was, in fact, this hairband.

The "pattern", such as it is, was very simple (Anna at Web Of Wool helped me figure it out).

Cast on 130 sts of 4ply yarn on 3.25mm needles.

6 rows stockinette, ending with a purl row.

Work fold line: (k2tog, yfwd) to end of row.

13 rows stockinette, ending with a purl row.

Work another fold line, (k2tog, yfwd) to end of row.

6 rows stockinette, ending with a knit row.

Cast off, embroider flowers, fold the fold lines, press, then sew the long seam along the underside of the hairband, and join the ends together.

Does anyone else find it kind of... deflating, when a month's work is condensed into seven short sentences?

I wrapped it up and sent it to my mother to look after until my sister's birthday last week. On the day itself, I phoned my sister and sung Happy Birthday at her. But she hadn't opened her presents yet (in fact I don't think she was out of bed) so I don't know if she liked it or not. Certainly she hasn't phoned, emailed, written or even texted to say thank-you... although she did text Steve to thank him for the happy-birthday text message he sent her... but then, some of you know her in Real Life. It could be that she didn't like the hairband, it could just be her being forgetful/thoughtless/rude, or it could be that I've managed to somehow upset her even from 200 miles away. Who knows.

This morning we had the first Jehovah's Witnesses since I've lived here. I opened the door and there were two women saying "hello, lovely to meet you!" and then actually trying to step up into the house. When I physically blocked them and asked who they were, they spotted that I was leaning on a walking stick. I've never seen such a look of... well, I don't know what it was. Pity? Revulsion? All remarks from that point on were addressed to the stick. Maybe they thought I was going to hit them with it. Maybe I should have done. Still, it does feel a lot more like I live here every time something like this happens. And that's nice.

Life is very steady at the moment. After the turbulence of the last twelve months or so (the benefit crap, the moving house, the new job, Christmas, the financial crisis, the further benefit crap, and any amount of nonblog Aaarg) we seem to have entered this nice, calm bay of serenity. Things are still far from perfect - money is still tight, I'm having a rough time with the illness and there's a list of things which need doing as long as my arm - but that's life. At least at the moment, everything critical is taken care of. I feel happier, more relaxed, and more fulfilled than I have done in quite some time. I think living with Steve has the curious dual benefit of being very sensible, but also very enjoyable. There are so many elements of our life together that make me disproportionately happy. One thing that gives me particular pleasure is making his lunches for him to take to work. Haute cuisine, it is not. It's basically a sandwich and a bit of fruit and some biscuits or similar. But it enables me to repay a little bit of 'looking after', and it's a simple thing, within my capabilities, that I know is appreciated, and that makes me feel good. I know it's a silly thing to blog about, but at the moment, I'm so contented, possibly more than I ever have been, and I want to kind of put that in my mental photo album to remember in the future.

Happy

If I said that, health-wise, I was feeling worse than usual, and the paperwork/benefits stuff was still a massive steaming pile of ongoing poo, but in terms of contentement with life, I was feeling really quite good... would you know what I meant?

So, I'm not too well, which is part of why I haven't been blogging. But it's been a gorgeous weekend. I've spent most of it in the living room with the patio door open, knitting and listening to the tweeting birdies and so on. Very relaxing.

Georgette the Courgette is doing well. If you clicky this linky you will see that she has been happily installed in a grow-bag of composty goodness, with two little strawberry plants (as yet un-named) to keep her company.

And on Sunday evening, Steve and I got in the car to meet Jiva and Munkt0n at some motorway services on their way back from Alton Towers. Which was nice... sitting outside on a bench with Steve, having a cuppa, and then friends turned up and we spent the evening chatting and relaxing. Jiva gave me some spare yarny from her stash which was unexpected and nice. It really is very tempting to spend a couple of hours on Ravelry trying to find some patterns for it, but I have promised myself that I will not fill up the house with half-finished items, so I will have to finish either the jumper or the socks first.

And finally, a quick mention for Tom Scott aka Mad Cap'n Tom, who has won his student union presidency as a pirate, upsetting any number of people in the process. Mwahahahaha.

Almost a jumper

lopsided style
Originally uploaded by girl_of_bats

Today is, I feel, a day for starting with the positive. So here is a picture of my work-in-progress jumper which, you will note, only needs Sleeve #2 and a little bit of sewing to make it an Actual Garment. I have made a start on Sleeve #2 and hopefully I will have it finished in a month or so. Definitely before the end of the year.

This morning we went to see a welfare advisor about the DLA appeal. I had to do a lot of signatures in the space of about ten minutes. Some were for paperwork to be sent to DWP and others were to confirm that I am allowing CAB to retain my information and whatnot. Serious hand-ache by the end of it - you could probably arrange the paperwork into the order I signed it just by how legible my autograph is on each piece. As I understand things, the advisor we saw today won't actually deal with my appeal. His role was more to advise us on whether we should appeal and how to go about it. But he's starting the appeal process for us and he's referring my case to another organisation, whose acronym I have forgotten, and someone from there will contact us to arrange to come to see us to go over things in depth. It all seems rather convoluted but at least the ball is rolling now.

Also on the positive, once that referral comes through we should be working with a named advisor on the basis of appointments. The CAB do their best, but they're over-stretched and under-staffed (almost entirely by volunteers) so you can't make an appointment - you have to turn up and wait, often several hours. If you're not prepared to wait, the theory goes, then your problems aren't that desperate. It's as fair as it can be, although I do feel sorry for people who wait patiently for a couple of hours but then leave before they get seen because they have to pick up their kids or get to work or whatnot. Today Steve and I were waiting just over two and a half hours, or, to put it another way, we'd arrived at the exact time the centre opened but we hadn't been queuing outside the door. Appointments will be much easier, not to mention less exhausting.

That said, despite the length of the wait, it wasn't so bad this time round. Rather than being held at the CAB proper in the town centre, it was a specific "Benefits and Debt Clinic" being held at a community centre which houses a hundred and one other things including a little subsidised cafe (you know the ones, lots of fruit and fairtrade stuff, no chocolate, crisps or fizzypop). So our two and a half hour wait took place while we were comfortably seated and enjoying a cuppa.

Georgette the Courgette is doing well. We have spent £1.49 on a bag of compost and now we're just wondering whether we have to find a container to put it in or if we can just use it like a grow-bag - to phrase it another way, will she need more depth or more width in her new home?

Finished Object: Birthday socks

Birthday socks
Originally uploaded by girl_of_bats

Hooray, hooray, what a wonderful day, for I have finished my Birthday Socks!

Actually I finished them a few days ago, but what with the miserable weather and everything going on, I didn't get round to photographing them. And what with the miserable Unbloggables going on, I didn't get round to blogging about socks, because really, I have too many things in my life to care about this month which is kind of making knitting accomplishments fade into the back files of my brain. And you can see how bright these socks are - that's some serious fading.

If there's something I'm supposed to be doing for you (writing or making or calling or fixing or whatever) and I haven't done it or I'm late with it, I'm honestly sorry. Odds are I haven't forgotten (Clare and Anne in particular, you are on the Whiteboard of Memory and I will get to it) but a reminder never hurts.

I have also finished and photographed the Top Seekrit Project. I will publish the pictures and the pattern (such as it is) in about a month, when the recipient has recipificated it. Suffice to say I am happy with it, and having a bit of an Umm-Ah about whether I should make another one for myself.

Poddling Along

Observant readers will have spotted that there hasn't been a great deal of news on the knitting front. However, knitting was what got suggested in the comments to my previous post, so, here's the news: I am still working on the jumper that I started at about the same time I moved in with Steve. I have one-and-two-thirds sleeves left to go, plus a certain amount of sewing up. I am also still working on my birthday socks. It took a month to do the first sock, but I'm still a certain way off finishing the second. Twenty more rounds and then it's the toe decreases, for those In The Know.

There are various reasons for the lack of knitting progress. There was the DLA form-filling, and there was a shoulder injury, and there were a couple of phases where I rediscovered addictions to computer games like The Sims 2 and Settlers. There is also, the Top Seekrit Project.

The Top Seekrit Project is a ******** that I have made for ******. It's ****, just like the *** I made previously, with cute little ******s on it just like on ** ****** ****. I finished knitting it a couple of days ago and now I'm just doing the final sewing-up and blocking. It is just a smidge too big, but I feel quite confident I can find a way around that. I think I have enough of the yarn left that I could make one for myself as well. Tempting.

I can't try it on right now though, because I am covered in sun-cream after a fantastic Day Off Work. It's been the first "normal" day of work I've had from this job, by which I mean, it wasn't because I was sick and in bed, or because I had Plans, or because it was a weekend/bank holiday to be spent cowering indoors from the crowds and traffic (seriously, have you ever tried to propel a mobility scooter through a Saturday shopping crowd? not possible, unless you fit blades to the wheels). It was just a gorgeous day, a weekday, a sunny day. So first I went to Boots, for the purchase of sun-cream, and then, having applied said sun-cream, continued on to the book shop. Half an hour later, I'd finally spent my Christmas Book Tokens, and then it was onwards to the park, where I relaxed in the sunshine or in the dappled shade of the trees by turns, read for a bit, sock-knitted for a bit, and got myself an ice-cream. Mint-choc-chip, as it happens.

It might not sound like much, but it meant a lot to me. It was the first chance I've had to properly go out on my own since starting work. Sure, I go to work, but the taxi picks me up from the door of the house and deposits me at the door of the shop, I can't suddenly decide that I'm going to take a different route, or leave early to do some shopping, or drop a letter in the postbox on my way home. Steve is lovely about driving me places or pushing the wheelchair, but I hate having to be so ask-y, so demanding. So it was nice to just go "I think I'll go over here. Now I think I'll stop for a minute. Now I think I'll go over there," and simply do it, for no apparent reason, without needing to ask someone, or to think carefully about whether I can afford to use up my whole day's energy on such fripperies.

I'm very tired, but very relaxed. Hopefully tomorrow (Friday) I will wake up feeling a bit more refreshed, and then it's an afternoon at work before the weekend-proper.

Now That's What I Call A Weekend

day at the park
Originally uploaded by girl_of_bats

Finally, after a Great British Springtime of snow, rain, hail, blustery showers and occasional teasingly sunny afternoons followed by yet more rain as soon as I'm not at work any more, we had a proper nice day. Warm but not hot, sunny but not glaring, gentle breezes and no rain. Fantastic.

We started with a lie-in, as many other non-childified adults do on a Saturday. I was pretty shattered, but it really was just too nice a day to spend indoors so I insisted at Steve that he must wake up because we had to go out. We decided to go to Jephson Gardens. I love it there. It's gorgeous, well-maintained, and is one of the most accessible places I've ever been, which is handy when you're being pushed in a wheelchair. We spent maybe two hours there. I did a little bit of sock-knitting (not too much as I've injured my shoulder, that's also why we're on blogging-lite) and Steve took lots of photos of the Ninja Squirrels. It goes like this:

- People scatter nuts for the squirrels.
- Squirrels run and hide from passing dogs (although they're totally not bothered by humans).
- Pigeons descend to eat the nuts.
- Squirrels dash out from their hiding places and attempt to jump on and headbutt the pigeons. Discworld readers: think Nac Mac Feegle, that's what these squirrels are like.

It was really nice to just be spending time outside. The daily wobble from the front door to the taxi doesn't really count, you know?

Back home for bacon sandwiches, and then I went to bed. It was meant to be a twenty-minute nap but instead turned into something in excess of two hours. Normally that would be a very bad thing, but on this occasion, it was exactly right, because while I was enjoying a waking-up cup of tea, Steve got a call from a friend inviting us over for a barbecue that evening. I like barbecues. I like them a LOT.

Last year, the words "fancy a barbecue?" would have been enough to guarantee rain within the next two hours. But yesterday was charmed - we went, we ate, we sat outside and chatted until it was properly dark. More of this sort of thing. Plus, with it having been a Saturday, I now have all of Sunday to rest and recover. Couldn't have asked for a better weekend.

More Progress

Armless jumper
Originally uploaded by girl_of_bats

I am pleased to report that I have reached a significant milestone in my First Adult-Sized Jumper - to whit, I have finished the front, back, and neck, and now all that remains to be done is the sleeves.

I nearly reached this milestone on Saturday. I'd sewn the front and back pieces together along the right-hand shoulder, I'd marked the stitches I was supposed to pick up along both sides of the neck shaping. On Saturday morning, I'd picked up every stitch I was supposed to and everything was going absolutely swimmingly for the 13 rows that form the neckband. I cast off loosely as per the instructions, pinned the neckband and left shoulder, and prepared to put it on to get my first real idea of what the jumper was going to look like.

And couldn't get it over my head.

So Saturday afternoon was spent carefully putting in bright orange acrylic safety lines for the live stitches on the front and back pieces, and then frogging the whole neckband. Just like the last time I had to frog part of this jumper, the task was made more difficult by the fact that the jumper is effectively knit in two-row stripes but of the same colour yarn. Still, it got done, and then Steve and I sat down to try and figure out what a sensible next step would be.

Step one: I checked my gauge, which was still the same as that recommended in the pattern.

Step two: I measured the circumference of my head. It's just under 23 inches which is not abnormal.

Step three: I tried to find a way to make my cast-off even looser. The easiest way of doing this appeared to be swapping one of the 3 1/4 mm needles I was knitting on, for a nice chunky 5mm needle.

Step four: With the help of Steve and a calculator, I worked out that I would need to add an extra five or six stitches in order for the neck to comfortably stretch around my head. This would give about an inch extra when flat, and stretch to about two or three inches extra.

Step five: I decided where the best places would be to add my extra stitches. I picked up two extra ones along each side of the neck on the front piece, and then added one at each end of the live stitches for the back piece.

As you can see from the picture, it worked. I feel so happy. I really like the way it looks, I like the way the colours have worked out, I like the way the neckline sits, I like the length, and I'm still absolutely gobsmacked when I look at all those little stitches making up this great-big jumper and think "I knit each and every one of those."

My plan for wowing the ladies at knitting was sadly scuppered as Anna at Web Of Wool is a bit under the weather at the moment. Still, I'm sure everyone will be just as impressed next week, and who knows, if I get really bored I might have finished a sleeve by then as well!

Misc

Lots of little things going on, but nothing I can make into a full-on blogpost.

The Tax Credits letter has been sent. So that doesn't need worrying about for a while again.

Steve passed his second exam with flying colours. There's two more to go.

Littlun is due to start at the kindergarten/reception type class at the school on Tuesday, doing half days, five days a week. However due to an administrative snarl-up, Pip won't know if he's doing mornings or afternoons until Monday.

Recycling has been properly introduced in this area. I am incredibly relieved - it was horrible not being able to do it any more after having really got into the habit back in Lowestoft. It's not exactly the same system as I was used to, but they've been really good about sending out the leaflets and whatnot.

What they're not so good at is dealing with queries. The helpline has been utterly swamped. According to the local paper, this is mostly by people who haven't read the leaflet with the list of collection dates, people who are complaining that the system is too complicated (let's put it this way: even I can understand it, so it can't be that hard), and people complaining that the bins are 'unsightly' so they don't want them at the front of their properties and won't give the bin-men access to the back. So, we took the path of least resistance and shelled out a whole £2.99 for a food-caddy from the supermarket rather than messing about to claim our free one.

I've totally slowed down on knitting the jumper because I have to write out longhand the row-by-row instructions for the shoulder shaping to make sure I've really understood it. The instructions in the pattern book are written to incorporate several sizes of one pattern. So for example an instruction might be written as "Cast off 2 (4, 6, 8, 10, 12) sts". If you are knitting the very small size, you cast off 2 sts. If you are knitting the biggest size, you cast off 12 sts. You see? But me, I'm medium-sized, and I keep forgetting which set of numbers I'm meant to be paying attention to and it drives me mad, so I write out the pattern instead.

The sock is coming along nicely. It is the second sock of the birthday pair, made of the stripy Regia Silk yarn I bought with my birthday money back in January. I've turned the heel and have about 10 more rows for the instep and then it's just round and round and round until I get to the toe decreases. Steve 'helpfully' offered that if I was stuck for what to knit next, he could always frog them for me so that I could do them all over again. I am pleased to report that I did NOT skewer him with a 2.5mm double pointed needle, but it was a close call.

And to round off, a Roomba Report. I still love it, I still think it's some of the best money I've ever spent, although I do regret spending the money and wouldn't have done if I'd known how things were going to pan out. But then I suppose that's the same for everyone. Anyway, yes, the Roomba, or "Bloop" as he is now affectionately known, is doing sterling work of keeping the carpets clean for me, but we did have a little incident the other day.

It involved a reel of black cotton that we are both quite sure was safely on a shelf before we pressed the button and closed the door. Perhaps the breeze from the door closing was what caused the reel to fall to the floor. Or perhaps Bloop bumped into the shelf a little bit hard. We don't know - after all, the point is, you don't have to be in the room while it's cleaning.

Thing is, if you're using a conventional vaccuum cleaner, then when you spot a cotton reel on the floor, you stop. You pick up the cotton reel and you place it somewhere safe. If the vaccuum cleaner has already sucked up the end, then you turn it off, untangle it, and only then do you attempt to continue cleaning. Not so for Bloop. He keeps going, and going, and going, and because of how he works, twisting and turning and moving all the time... eventually he had got the entire length of thread wound around his brushes, upon which, he sucked up the plastic reel as well, which finally jammed the brushes and caused him to make his "uh-oh" noise.

Black cotton thread wound tightly in a non-linear fashion onto black brushes. Oh boy. It wouldn't unwind at all. We had to try three different pairs of scissors to cut it all off without cutting the brushes themselves. It was a tricky job. But, even so, after maybe an hour of surgery, it was all sorted out and Bloop was able to do the whole room again, properly.

Steve has presented the incident as being further proof of Bloop's malevolent sentience. Not only does my robot want to join in the knitting, but he even knows better than to have a first try with any of my decent yarn.

Egads

First, some good knitting news: Following on from last week's trauma, I have now knitted and measured (and measured, and measured, and got Steve to measure too) the 14 inches of jumper and have made a start on the armhole decreases. There's still a way to go, but at least I know it'll be right.

Also, some Pip and Littlun news: They built a snowman at the park with some other dads and kids from their street. I saw the pics. The Boy is still cute. He starts at the nursery class at the local school next week, just mornings and no uniform for now, although there's still a sense of "no! how can he be going to the school! he's a baby!". Fingers crossed for them, although I'm sure they'll be fine.

And, the form. Oh boy, the form.

Since the tick boxes on the new DLA form are a bit 'one size fits no one'; and since the 'Additional Information' boxes are tiny; and since even if they were bigger, I don't do so well with the handwriting (that comes under question 47, 'Communication', if you're interested); and since Steve's handwriting is terrible; we just typed all my answers into a big document to print out and attach. The idea was that in and across the little boxes, we could simply write "see Additional Information, page X" making things easier all round.

Today, I printed out the document of 'Additional Information' so that I could start writing the correct page references into the little boxes on the form.

The total was 48, yes, forty-eight pages. The word-count was 26,019. That's twenty-six thousand and nineteen words. That's more than the entirety of my GCSE English Language and Literature courseworks.

Two of them are me covering my back with things like a list of the supporting evidence I am sending with the form, and an extra reiteration of the Declaration ("I declare that the information I have given is correct blah blah") just in case. The remaining 46 are all providing as clear a picture as I can of what problems I have and what help I need.

It defies stapling. We ended up with Steve hole-punching them all a few pages at a time, and me tying them together with spare yarn. It is a measure of how far I have progressed in the last year, that instead of just thinking "I'll grab whatever bit of wool is handy," I gave serious thought to the issue. I didn't want anything that would break, anything fluffy or fuzzy, or anything pink. After a moment's consideration, I instructed Steve to go downstairs to my Stash and fetch the pale blue Rowan All Seasons cotton. It is a measure of how far Steve has progressed, that he came back with not only the All Seasons cotton, but also the green Rowan Handknit Cotton as well, in case I'd prefer that, which I did. It's worked well, although we decided against listing it as a project on Ravelry.

In addition to this monster statement, and the standard DLA additional paperwork such as a list of repeat prescriptions and a report from a specialist, I am lucky enough to also be able to provide statements from:
- my mother
- my boyfriend, who I live with
- my co-worker who works with me for four hours a day
- two of my oldest friends. Uh, that's oldest as in, known me for years, not that they're old, I mean, uh...

I did ask my mum about the idea of providing a statement from the family dog too ("when Mary is on the floor, I lick her hand until she gives me a fuss, upon which I am satisfied that all is well and stand guard over her, in silence. They told me about some pup called Lassie who would have jumped about all over the place fetching people and barking, but I figured, no, some peace and quiet is what she'll want, that and an unpleasantly moist hand...") but she felt this might be over-egging the pudding somewhat.

Anyway, tomorrow I'll finish writing the Additional Information page references onto the form itself, and once that's done, I can sign and date it. Then on Wednesday, I need to find somewhere that does photocopying, because we Do Not send things to the DWP without keeping a copy, which means that hopefully I can get it posted (registered recorded whoopdedoo) by Friday, neatly inside the deadline. And I can stop fretting about it.

Things are picking up again

A couple of nights ago I realised that I have now been knitting for a whole year.

While this is something I'm actually quite happy about, it did put the cherry on the top when I did some measurements on the jumper I am working on last night and realised: I Have Made A Mistake.

To make matters worse, the Mistake was some five or six inches back. I can pinpoint the mistake - I made it on the 8th of March, because it was the day before Simon and Tony ran a half-marathon dressed as a camel. So that's almost two weeks' knitting. The Mistake I made was that I mis-measured the length from the cast-on to the armhole decrease. It's meant to be 14 inches. The back piece, already completed, has a perfect 14 inches. The front piece, for some reason, has a perfect 13 inches. I suspect that I looked at the tape measure with my brainfog on and misread the number or got the alignment wrong. It's not a huge difference but it's enough to show.

With a heavy heart and a lot of swearing, I started to frog. This was made complicated because with the Colinette Cadenza yarn I'm using, you're supposed to use two balls at once to avoid pooling. You do a knit and a purl row of Ball A, then a knit and a purl row of Ball B, then a knit and a purl row of Ball A again. Result: huge tangle of wiggly wool.

Steve was bright enough to realise that this was NOT the moment to go "hang on, I'll get my camera" but to offer support and assistance.

Once I'd ripped back far enough, I started to painstakingly pick up 120 stitches from the remaining knitting. I'd picked up about 115 of them before realising that because of the yarn-changeovers, the 5 at the end had unravelled themselves two rows back.

Further cursing as attempted to remember how to put in a safety line. I got some bright orange acrylic and started to stitch it in, four or five rows back. I got Steve to count my stitches while I did some stretching. Then it was back on the floor for more frogging, and a big sigh of relief when the line held.

While I began to thread the stitches on the orange line onto my circular needle, Steve wound his first centre-pull ball of yarn. It was great, except that as soon as I started to knit, we discovered respective cockups: I had threaded all 120 stitches onto my needle in the right order, but twisted the wrong way round, and Steve had wound the ball of yarn so tightly it wouldn't actually pull from the centre.

Still, by this point, we had a great sense of having got past the worst of it. I started to knit again, carefully turning each stitch around before knitting it, and Steve unwound his yarn and began to wind again, a little looser this time. He was so satisfied, that he checked his colour balancing before getting camera-happy at it, with the result that this picture is not only a nice picture of his second attempt, it's also pretty much exactly true colour.

I feel a bit funny about having wasted an evening - I should have been working on my form, he should have been studying - but there was something very nice about working together to get it sorted out. Plus, I now have a boyfriend who can wind centre-pulls, and that is a serious asset.

As far as the form goes, well, I just need to write about my night-time care needs, the precis of which is "I'm pretty much sorted if I'm safe and sound in bed, however, if I need to get out of bed, I need the same help as I would in the day, with additional consideration for me being even more badly co-ordinated because I'm sleepy because, you know, it's the middle of the damn night." I'm continuing with my approach of typing all the information into a document and then, on the form, just writing in which page of the document they should refer to. There are currently about 37 pages, covering about 30 major questions.

Oh, it's also worth saying, I saw the new GP, Dr H, about a week ago. I told her I was applying for DLA and about what happened last time. She told me there were in fact notes in my records about what happened last time, so I guess Dr W must have typed up a bit extra the last time I saw her before sending my notes here. Dr H confirmed a few bits and bobs from the screen ("yes, we've got stuff here about how you have trouble walking, can't walk without pain, about faints and dizzy spells, all that sort of thing") and then, the confirmation I really needed to hear:

"Yes, for the bit that asks about your GP, just put my name and the address of this surgery, they'll send us a form, and we will back you up. We will support your claim.".

Phew.

Still going...

... but struggling a little bit right now. It is very difficult to maintain a positive mental attitude, and use relaxation and pain-management techniques, when thinking and writing in detail about how painful/difficult/physically impossible any number of normal daily tasks are.

So far I am about half-way through the DLA form and have typed 21 standard A4 pages of 12-point Times New Roman about the physical and cognitive difficulties I have with various things. It's not fun reading.

On Thursday I was sent home sick from work. Went back in on Monday, not fully recovered but not sick enough to warrant being at home. On Tuesday my co-worker went off sick with what sounds like the same thing.

Adding to this not-nice-ness, we are in the middle of an unforseen cashflow crisis that we do not have the means to deal with (and have been since the beginning of the year, in case you hadn't guessed that was what was going on) as my earnings only cover half of our joint essential expenses. It's not immediately dire - both Steve and myself have the capacity to get loans and the suchlike when it becomes really necessary - and it will probably be sorted out in a few months once Steve has passed his exams and gets a job again. It's just distinctly unpleasant At The Moment. Neither of us have been in debt before.

To make matters worse, I suspect that I shall run out of yarny before this cashflow crisis resolves itself. I have a horrible vision of a scarf made of end-of-ball bits from the stash, just so that I have something to do with my hands to relax.

On the plus side, though, my wardrobe will be up by one pair of handknit socks and one soft and snuggly jumper.

Also, I have found out that in October, I will get a pay-rise.

Predictably, this is not based on my skills, but on an increase in the National Minimum Wage. Still, it counts...

Finished Item: Birthday Sock

Sock on a biscuit jar
Originally uploaded by girl_of_bats

Of course, socks traditionally come in pairs, and I have cast on Birthday Sock 2, but the way things are at the moment, even the completion of One Sock is enough to warrant celebratory feelings.

It's... not a good time. Several things, some bloggable, some not, are causing a certain amount of stress right now. A small taster...

I suspect that tomorrow I have to call the Tax Credits people and/or Royal Mail because of a problem with the paperwork I sent by Recorded Signed For post last week not being flagged as 'delivered' yet. This is going to be made more difficult by me being rather iller than usual at the moment. I suspect I have to make a doctor's appointment as it's getting to the "beyond a joke" point - without Steve, I would be well and truly stuffed by now. I'm worried that even with Steve's help I might end up having to take time off work if my health doesn't pick up again sharpish. I have to sort out some more stuff with the DWP as well.

You get the picture.

I also have to write up a feedback report for Access to Work. Well, I don't have to, which is why I haven't done it yet. But I've been asked to, and I feel like I should.

I need to get some serious praise in for my current adviser, who has been fabulous and got all sorts of things (the taxis, the squishing machine) sorted out pretty much next-day, and I want to say nice things about the scheme in general.

But I also really need to let them know about the problems I have encountered with the system, like the trouble I had getting onto the scheme, the attempts to make One Size Fit All, the catch-22 of not being able to apply for the scheme until you have a definite job offer, but the difficulty of negotiating for a job offer without knowing whether you're likely to get help from the scheme or not.

Actually, if anyone can think of some good phrases I could use, please do put them in the comments, because at the moment I'm having trouble properly saying things I want to say without (a) it coming out wrong and everyone looking confused, (b) half of it coming out before my brain goes off at a tangent and I fail to communicate my original point leaving everyone looking confused, or (c) it coming out right, but far too abrupt/rude/blunt and leaving everyone looking distinctly pissed off. I need all the help I can get.

The sock came out well though.

Crash

Oh, it's all gone horribly wrong.

The attempt at GET has been called off on account of (1) me not having a bloody clue what I'm doing (see comments, previous post), and (2) me ending up feeling like I'd been scraped off the sole of my own shoe (probably because, see 1 above). I think I'll settle for: as long as I get up every day and go to work when I'm supposed to, then I'm doing quite enough.

The Inland Revenue have been sent me a nasty letter. It's to do with my Working Tax Credits claim from 2003. You don't want to be bored to death by the details - suffice to say, I haven't claimed or received any money from them since I stopped work in 2005 (because, Working Tax Credits, duh), I hadn't heard from them since 2006, I thought everything was fine, I even have a letter from them saying that I owe them nothing and they owe me nothing... but now I have a bill for over £500, which, frankly, is more than a month's wages, and an accompanying letter threatening legal action and 'interest accruing daily until the balance is zero'. I fear this may take a lot of untangling.

Steve keeps injuring himself (mostly hurting his back or his leg) and I can't do anything to help. He's also studying really intensively, so by the time I crawl in from work, we're both shuffling about like the living dead - in body and in brain - to try and prepare a semi-nutritious evening meal between the two of us. It would be comical if either of us were brain-awake enough to appreciate it.

It's the end of January. 'Nuff said.

Even my yarny is causing problems - I started turning the heel on my sock and lo, halfway through the ball, a KNOT. And not just a tangle which with care and attention might be unpicked. No, this was a proper, two definite ends of yarn, tied together in a big ugly knot. Okay, so not the end of the world, I cut it off and then started knitting again as if with a second ball... but for pity's sake, this was supposed to be my birthday-treat, make-me-happy, pleasure-to-knit-with super-nice yarny!

Send positivity soon plz.




*Note for foreign readers: Working Tax Credits are a kind of UK welfare benefit that you get if you are in full-time work, but earning less than X amount. Various factors (including children, disability, hours worked, phase of the moon, consumption of cheese etc) are taken into account when figuring out (a) what that X amount should be for each person and (b) how much Tax Credit that person should be given. The system is hugely complicated and has lurched from one catastrophe to another since it began.

Still Good

Okay, so the Dopey Happy wore off. In the last week I have experienced a full range of emotions both positive and negative. But nothing too extreme and nothing that I thought was worth blogging about.

Plenty of good stuff has been going on though.

Firstly, what you might call my Graded Exercise Therapy (although it's not official, it's just what I've decided to do) has got off to a good start. The plan is, to do a little bit of a walk each day, gradually increasing over the course of several months until I can walk what you might call "a useful distance". I'm letting myself off on days when it's raining (because I can't carry an umbrella) and if it gets icy, I won't go out then either for obvious reasons. But still. Phase One is to walk to the end of the road and back, once a day, a round trip of approximately 400 metres. It hurts, and it takes a while, and I have to stop to rest, and I feel awful when I get back to the house - but I'm doing it, and feeling quite proud of it. Once I'm definitely on top of doing that walk every day, and managing to stay on top of it for a couple of weeks, the next step will be going round the corner to the next corner of the block, making a 600m round trip. Once that's nailed, it'll be the post-box - 900m - and after that, completely round the block, which as far as we can work out, is a full kilometre.

Then, it'll only be another 200m on top of that, to get me all the way to the bus stop, which is my definition of "a useful distance". Unfortunately that last 200m is all uphill, so we could have upwards of a year to go before I swap my community transport membership for a bus pass. Still, like I say, Phase One is going well.

Secondly, the jumper I'm knitting - my first adult-sized one - is coming along nicely. I am only a couple of rows away from having the back piece finished. I think I should get it done tonight, and probably cast on for the front piece as well. As I suspected, I am on schedule to get it completed just as the weather gets a bit too warm to wear a jumper.

And thirdly, Access to Work. Since I bang on about all the trouble I have with these schemes, it's only fair that I should report when things go right.

The job I do has two major elements. There's the boring part, which is looking at the order someone has placed, picking the CDs they want off the shelves, scanning them to book them out of the stock, and printing off the paperwork. Then, there's the really totally insanely boring part, which is wrapping and packing each set of CDs and sticking the paperwork into a documents pocket on the package.

The packaging we use is this self adhesive corrugated card, with the hand press which squishes the layers of card together at either end of the package, sealing it. As you can probably imagine, it's rather difficult for me to use. I can do it once or twice quite easily, and I can do it five or six times without too many problems, but after about the tenth package, I can barely lift my arm any more, much less squish the card with the force required to seal it properly.

Of course, usually I'm not working alone, so I do the picking, and my fit, healthy and energetic CoWorker#1 does the packing. But there are two problems with this. Firstly, it's unfair on CoWorker#1 to always be doing the insanely boring physical part of the job. Even if he didn't complain, I would feel bad about it. And secondly, CoWorker#1 does sometimes get sick, or take holiday.

This might have been enough to make me turn around and say "okay. I can't do this job for four hours a day after all," except for The Machine. The Machine was sent to us on approval at about the same time as I arrived. It works much like a mangle. Two mechanical rollers spin, and you feed the end of the package through, and it squishes the card shut. No physical strength required. It means I can do as much of the "packaging" end of the job as they want me to do.

However, the approval period has come to an end. It's an expensive piece of kit, and I'm the only one who needs it - CoWorker#1 hates it (he just can't get the hang of it) and no one else does enough packing to have an opinion either way. In the words of The Boss, "so you find it useful... but is it really £severalhundred worth of useful? Because we don't exactly have that much money going spare."

Well, it's necessary for me to be able to perform all aspects of my job description. Enter Access To Work. There's a certain amount of paperwork to be done (isn't there always) but the advisor reckons we can get help with purchasing The Machine. I don't have to give up my job. CoWorker#1 doesn't get the nasty end of the stick regarding distribution of tasks. The Boss doesn't end up out of pocket. Everybody wins!

Dopey Happy

I really am quite stupidly, insanely, indescribably happy right now.

No reason.

In fact it's been a rather pants few days really - notable points of the last 48 hours include slicing my thumb open while chopping carrots, and getting out of my taxi all ready for work on Friday afternoon and promptly fainting, straight into a puddle, and spending the afternoon wearing cold, wet jeans. Not really up there in the "fun" stakes.

But nevertheless, I feel really positive.

I've just spent the best part of 45 minutes reading a book while Bloop the Roomba cleaned the living room carpet. Every few minutes I was looking up and watching it make its way around the room, thinking and sometimes saying "this is amazing. I live in the 21st century. I have a robot doing my housework."

Carpet cleaned, I took a few photos of the jumper I'm knitting. Again, it was all "wow, I made this, with my hands, I knitted each of these many many stitches, and it's all the right numbers and shape..."

Prior to that I was eating dinner with Steve, which was also incredible. Here's a really nice bloke, who I get on well with, and we're living together, and everything is happy and nice and working out well. It's astonishing.

I almost hope it wears off by Monday, because if I'm just wandering about with a Big Stupid Grin on my face going "hey, that's fantastic!" at everything I see, I'm not going to get a lot of work done.

It can continue tomorrow though.