Last time I wrote, I had just spent an scared filled five minutes standing in from of an audience and reading out some poems. And I have full intentions to do it again, if I don't let work get in my way. That is the paid drudgery kind, not what I should be doing which is writing, and getting all these tales out of my brain so I can think of some new ones.
What am I saying? I don't need any more stories, but that is me just procrastinating once again.
One of the reasons for waffling on, on this blog is crochet. And I realised that I haven't done much at all, never mind posting it, so I decided to crochet some simple granny squares. And then put them together.
But that was not really a worth while goal. So the idea of a jacket was born, slowly I grant you, over a couple of pints and a time scale that seemed achieveable. It was just over a month to the York Beer Festival and while collecting stamps to get free entry (something I never managed as I did let work get in the way) I would crochet the squares in the pub.
And so I started to make a stash of squares and watched them grow. Not all were made in the pub as I estimated I needed over 70 of them. Yes 70. Suddenly my task seemed too large to manage, and I had less than a month left. With work nipping at my heels to help out, the tattoo of mug visible to all and sundry. And I realised with mounting horror, my squares were smaller than they should have been. But I didn't want to give up. Mind you, I had tweeted it on social media and felt some what obliged to continue.
So my granny square pile grew, and my colours increased, as I spent every hour I could making more, and edging them so they were big enough, or so I was beginning to hope. No wonder I have done little else.
The squares started to come together, but my time was running out. Now I had to put them together, and not all my squares were even, as I had used different weights of yarn and different sizes. Arrgh! How would I put this thing together and would it fit after all this work? I didn't know, but I couldn't stop now.
And then it was done. It was the morning I was going to York Beer Fest and I had even managed a hood. My hands were aching and cramped and my vision blurred, but I had finally made my jacket, and now I could embarrass myself further by wearing it.
Which is exactly what I did!
And what now for my beer Jacket? and the months and a half of work I put into it?
Now I have to continue with my writing, and poem performing. And so it becomes a performance jacket for an ale drinking, beer poet, and chocoholic who crochets.
Thank you for reading xxx