With my departure from England becoming more and more imminent, my previously-scheduled holiday visiting my family this week has taken on a different sort of meaning. It’s more intense and I have found myself revisiting things (and people) from my past with a strange nostalgia that’s both triumphant and sad. In other words it’s been a strange sort of week for me but deeply enjoyable.
Most of the week has been spent in London. I met up with a fellow knitter, a long-time friend and excellent person that I still think of as Cal (though I’m sure she goes by her real name now, it’s how I knew her when we did pixel dolls back in the day).
We took a much-needed trip to Loop which is one of my favourite yarn stores for reasons obvious to anyone who has been there. It’s tucked down a backstreet near the Angel tube station and I’ve missed out on going there the last couple of times due to horribly bad timing (I always end up in London on a Monday when it’s closed). With Wollmeise in mind I very nearly walked out with some brightly-coloured Socks that Rock instead but, after painful deliberation, walked out with a beautiful skein of Wollmeise in the Gianduia colourway – a rich orangey brown that’s much more natural than the usual colours I pick. I’ve fondled it extensively but have yet to take photos.
And no, I have no idea what I’m going to knit with it. And yes, I’m aware that I shouldn’t be buying more yarn right now when I already have so much to take back to Canada with me.
I met briefly with Frankie, a fellow geek I met at university. I believe our first conversation was about X-Men back in a long-distance seminar and we got along swimmingly after that. Unfortunately due to bad planning on my part (as in, I barely let anyone know I was coming down this week) I didn’t get to spend much time with her or another friend Ruth who has managed to turn into an even more interesting and lovely person in the years we’ve not met up.
One of my favourite moments in London this week was wandering around the South Bank and Westminster for no reason just to soak in the city. I do love this country; it’s strange and archaic and modern and banal all at once. It’s also beautiful.
The second of these pictures is from the latter half of my week off. I went back to my hometown, a little island poking off the bottom of England. It’s called Portland and while I moved off it when I was 16 as quickly as I could manage, I still find it gorgeous. And weird. It’s always weird being back there.
I’ll be posting a few pictures of things I made for my family whilst down there. For now I’m going to go pet my Wollmeise and wonder what to make with it whilst lamenting the fact I have the yarn and the pattern but not the needles for the thing I want to make most of all (despite the fact my girlfriend is shocked that I don’t have every needle size in existence).