Inter-knit

I learned to knit a few months ago, and it's become a bizarrely large part of my life. Initially something of an obsession; now not quite that, but something I do most days; think about even more; and can't imagine not being there. Quite impressive for an activity I'd previously barely thought about, and when I did it was in the realms of old grannies knitting lumpy jumpers in dimly lit rooms. But as often with life, knitting is not what I thought it was. These are things I've learned about knitting:

   - It's challenging enough to be interesting and easy enough to be relaxing
   - It's an easy way to get that creative buzz
   - It's an excuse to acquire a whole pile of gorgeously coloured and textured wool
   - It's both an involving solitary pursuit and a brand new conversational topic.

More people than I ever could have guessed are into knitting - friends, their sisters, colleagues, acquaintances at parties, ladies on the bus. And we're knitting everywhere: at home; in each other's homes; in libraries; in cafes; on trains and even a lady I bumped into waiting for a ferry in Tenerife. And unsurprisingly, the internet is hooking us all up even more. When I started knitting, my friend Rosie told me about Ravelry, which has played a key part in my knitting epiphany. Ravelry is a wonderful (ok, if you're a knitter) source of inspiration, patterns and, I'm starting to realise, social networking for woollyphiles. I can admire photos of my friends' creations as well as those of strangers, and over Christmas I found time to post my projects there for all and sundry to see. Which was almost as satisfying as finishing them in the first place... Now I really feel part of the online knitting community.

Merry Christmas

This year I didn't make a good job of sending greetings and festive wishes to friends and family. Other things like work and life and knitting Christmas presents got in the way.... But I've been thinking of them and hoping that life is good, and that the future will be better, and that they're celebrating winter festive cheer with their loved ones at this dark, turning time of year. And that the loved ones we've lost are out there somewhere raising a glass to us and wishing us happy. Merry Christmas, all!

Analogue summer in December

I went to Jessops today with a 35mm film to develop. A film that I found in my Diana Mini camera a few weeks ago, which I finished on holiday in La Gomera, but couldn't remember when I'd started. It turns out to be back in July on a camping weekend with a friend on the west coast. One of the long-lost joys of occasionally reviving old fashioned photography is the complete opposite of digital camera instant gratification: it's the surprise reminder of almost-forgotten experiences. Like summer days in December. 

Dementia care and Dad

Went to see Dad today, in the dementia care home where he lives in Glasgow. I hadn't seen him for a few weeks, what with holidays and snowy roads. It was nice to spend time with him, although he fell asleep once or twice. But we were in the lounge, so that gave me a chance to chat to some of the care staff, and get to know some of the other residents a bit more. The staff work so hard and with such good humour to give the residents good care, and as best a standard of life as they can. Sometimes their job is hilariously like herding cats, but they invariably give each resident individual, personal attention, and because of that, respect and dignity.

Dementia care is in the news again today, although in hospitals rather than care homes. Apparently two-thirds of NHS hospital staff in England and Wales say they feel they lack the skills to care properly for patients with dementia. I'm not surprised. Our experience, although in Scotland, has been just that. Dad's ended up in hospital twice, and although I can't fault at all the critical care he got - they saved his life at least once - I can't say the same for his day-to-day care. During a 6 week spell in hospital his weight dropped from 10 to 7.5 stone, because he couldn't feed himself, and the nurses didn't feed him. Getting any information out of the doctors was like getting blood from a stone - everything was told directly to Dad, who of course didn't understand it and couldn't tell us. Mum was even scolded by the ward sister for reading his medical chart, because it was 'confidential' - when it was the only way for her to find out about his condition and treatment. Like the fact that they were dosing him with Haloperidol, an antipsychotic drug, to keep him quiet and manageable (which was why he couldn't feed himself). We still feel guilty that we didn't step in earlier, but we naively assumed he was being properly looked after. It was only afterwards we realised that if we'd been more demanding, asked more questions, he might have had better care. 

Hopefully, now that these issues are being more widely recognised, things will start to improve. It's not rocket science, but by making a few simple changes to training and procedures, hospital patients who also have dementia could get much better care without their families having to nag and demand and be generally awkward.

We won't see Dad at Christmas this year. It's going to be the first time he won't see his family on Christmas Day. Feels like a milestone. I don't think he'll mind; he doesn't know what time of year it is, and the staff at the home always try hard to make Christmas special. But I'll miss him. Merry Christmas, Dad.

Lovely La Gomera

A few photos of the beautiful island of La Gomera. Sheer, stark volcanic cliffs around the edges; dripping with green cloud forest at the top. Sunset crashing into the sea the way the waves crash onto the pebble beaches. Flowers and lizards and tropical fish. Going back one day.

Finca Argayall 

Rainforest and volcano

  Our spot overlooking the ocean...

Health, happiness and levitation through yoga

I just got back from a yoga holiday on the lovely Canarian island of La Gomera. Only a short ferry ride from the full English breakfasts, electric wheelchairs, grey heads, sunburnt overweight bodies and concrete high-rises of Tenerife's Los Cristianos, La Gomera is another world of calm, stark beauty, and wholesome pursuits. And quite a few Germans and hippies, and sometimes German hippies.

Never having been on a yoga holiday before, I'm impressed with the results. I've rarely felt so calm and full of quiet energy. Sadly, I didn't realise just how calm I'd become until this morning, three hours into my first day back in the office, when a familiar feeling of tension crept back into my stomach which I realised I hadn't felt for a week. Hopefully, though, the overall effects will last a lot longer.

It wasn't just the yoga, although that - an hour or two every morning and evening, sometimes looking out over the ocean - was wonderful for loosening the body and calming the mind. It was a heady mixture of the yoga and the sunshine; the peaceful, lush atmosphere at the eco/alternative lifestyle resort Finca Argayall (largely run by lovely German hippies); the amazingly good food three times a day; the (relatively) early nights; the cold beers while watching the sunsets; the swimming in the ocean; the exploring the island by bike and on foot; the excellent coffee; and the time to just sit around, read, write, knit, talk, and watch the world drift slowly by.

All in all, it was just about the perfect holiday before facing up to the inescapable Christmas tunes and winter weather. Did I mention the snow? From bikinis on the beach on Saturday to scraping thick ice off the car on Monday morning. Now there's a welcome home...