Little Cotton Rabbits

On having hope

 

 

Hello, how are you? I truly hope that you're managing and that those you love are safe and well. Here there are good days and bad days. The hardest thing for me is not being able to explain to Toby why everything he knows and loves has stopped and he has had many more meltdowns than usual, but there is a highlight to each day and that is our walk in the woods. We weren't going out to the woods at the beginning of the lockdown because there was some confusion as to whether we were allowed to drive the 3 miles there and back but recent clarification from the government on people with autism being allowed to travel to familiar places has meant that Toby now has one loved activity available.

Whilst we are struggling with daily life here, I know there are so many having a much worse time than us: those medical and health careworkers on the front line dealing with hugely stressful days, those overwhelmed by mental health issues, those fearful of loosing their livelihoods and especially those who have lost loved ones and have not been able to even say goodbye, heartbreak that is happening on a global scale right now. It feels impossible to believe that the human world will ever be the same again after this and I've been thinking how important it is to hold on to hope that there will be good times again.

Each year, in the quiet pause that is New Years day, I sit and fill in important dates in my brand new diary. I so enjoy this ritual - writing on crisp, clean pages the birthdays of loved ones, the eagerly anticipated events, and all the while imagining the whole year spread out and full of possibilities.

On the first page I always try to write myself a little message or quote, a kind of guiding principle for my thoughts in the coming year. Last year, faced as we were with many challenges surrounding Toby's transition from child to adult support services I wrote the words

'Don't let bitterness become you'.

I'm still working on that one and I'm guessing that as the parent of a now adult son who is severely autistic I will need to keep that one as a constant reminder for years to come - a verbal talisman for when I feel overwhelmed by all the things Toby can't do, can't have and can't be and all the things we'll never have as a family. Calling to mind these words does help to pull my thoughts away from destructive negativity.

On January 1st of this year, I wrote these words in my nice new 2020 diary:

'I can still have hope while facing a future I do not know'.

When I wrote that out I was really thinking on a very insular and personal level about the ongoing issues involved in caring for Toby, but that phrase could not have been more apt for the global situation that has unfolded and affects all of us now. The last few months have changed life for us all in unimaginable ways and never more have we needed to believe that there is hope in all of our futures.

So, that's my wish for you today: That you find hope, in whatever form it appears for you, and you cherish, nuture and tend it so that it fortifies you in these darkly terrifying times.

J x

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:: 'Don't let bitterness become you' is a line taken from the lyrics of Elysium by Bear's Den

:: 'I can still have hope while facing a future I do not know'  is a quote from Morgan Harper Nichols, it's the 4th slide on November 22nd 2019

 

All of the pictures above were taken in previous springs (the last one with Amy in was from 2011). Toby's favourite wood doesn't have bluebells, and even if it did he'd not let me stop to take photos ;)  It is though a comforting thought, that despite everything nature is unaffected - other than perhaps in positive ways from less pollution/human intrusion. And although I may not be able to go and see bluebells this year, I know they're out there blooming away, smelling wonderful and looking tear-inducingly beautiful.

 

snowdrop woods

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first sign of spring around our way is the arrival of snowdrops. They are such delicate little flowers, held aloft on a single slender stalk above smooth, narrow leaves they shimmer in the cold late winter breezes. And yet despite their fragile appearance they are tough little plants, breaking through the frozen earth with their tenacious green shoots and unfurling their pure white petals in patches of dappled sunlight.

There's nothing quite as uplifting as the sight of drifts of them spread beneath the bare trees, clustered together as though huddling against the cold weather. The February landscape is still dull and brown and appears dormant but snowdrops signal that a change is gradually gathering pace. I've been feeling a little low of late and was in need of a little natural pick-me-up, so today I wrapped up warmly in lots of woolly layers and braved the frosty morning and cold winds to go on a snowdrop hunt. There are quite a few places to find them locally but my favourite is a tiny patch of woodland sandwiched between a quarry and the tiny hamlet of Westmill - just a few pretty red-roofed cottages clustered around an old medival mill.

I've arrived back home with muddy knees; a few nettle stings around my ankles (I managed to kneel it a patch of them and didn't notice until it was too late) and cold, red cheeks but I'm feeling cheered and invigorated. I'm now warming up with knitting and a cup of tea before heading out to pick Toby up from his after school club.

If you're also feeling a little down I hope you find a little something to lift your spirits this week. If you have time let me know in the comments what's brightening your days at the moment. See you soon with a little of what I've been knitting

J x

 

 

Hibernating

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first few months of the year always feel to me like a time for quiet rest and a gentler pace of life. Perhaps it's the short daylight hours of winter which make me feel a little like hibernating and using less energy. In summer I might walk in the woods in the evening or we'll be in the garden until after 10pm when dusk falls, but in January and February, with darkness falling before four o'clock in the afternoon, all I feel like doing in my free moments is curling up in a cosy corner by the fire and reading or knitting.

Along with bunny knitting I've been knitting lots of mittens. I have lots of wristwarmers, which I wear constantly throughout the winter months, but have been getting cold fingertips on my woodwalks and so it seemed a good plan to knit something a bit more cosy. This was a free pattern that I found on Ravelry and it's perfect, knitting up very quickly and with such a clever and comfortable thumb placket. It's called Garnomeras enkla vantar by Maria Samuelsson and I've loved knitting these in the 'silver birch'  organic merino Viola yarn that I gifted myself for Christmas, a beautiful hand-dyed yarn which has so many subtle tones. In fact I love the pattern so much that I've knitted a second pair, also in Viola Organic merino yarn, colourway 'frozen earth'. I have made a few modifications to the pattern (which is written for worsted weight yarn) in order to accomodate the DK yarn weight and I've added a little texture too - notes are over on my project page.

This morning there was a spectacular sunrise, which made me want to get up, dressed and out for a walk. So I headed off to the woods to see if the wood anemones were up yet but there was no sign of them, not even the tips of their leaves breaking through the soil. The woods are still deep in winter's pause, and we've not yet had a cold snap so it will be a little longer before the growing season starts again, although tree buds are starting to swell and small bird songs were all around as they start to pair up ready for spring. At least I'm now ready for ice and snow if it does arrive soon, and my hands will stay toasty and warm in my new mittens.

 

Early December

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Out in the woods most of the trees have shed all of their leaves now, but those that do still cling to the branches, mostly on the oaks and birches, have been burnished by the early morning frosts and shine like gold in the low winter sunlight.

There is something so very peaceful and calming about the woods at this time of year and when I'm walking alone I rarely see anyone, though I did meet a lovely lady and her dog the other day and we compared funghi pictures and best places to spot different kinds. But most of my wood walks are anti-social affairs, where I walk alone slowly, quietly and almost reverently, trying to attune my senses to the woodland world so that I can hear the rustle of falling leaves, smell the damp, richness of generations of decaying leaves and notice the subtle shift in the colours of the leaves, each one slightly different to it's neighbour.

Coming home I always feel a sense of cleansed calm and a peaceful stillness that quiets my mind and I try to hold on to that as long as possible by sitting with a warm cup of tea and my knitting. Inevitably though the waiting chores call me back to the busyness of the day and life speeds up again. Are there things that help you find peaceful corners of your busy days? Do tell me about them in the comments if you have time.

 

Well, I have some 'thank yous' to say today.

Firstly, Thank You so much to Andrea at Fruity Knitting who recently invited me to be on one of their shows. Unfortunately for me the timing didn't fit, and with everything that has gone on with Toby this year I currently feel a need keep things here as simple and flexible as possible, so I didn't feel I could commit to an interview. But it certainly was a great honour to have been asked. I'm sure you already know about their 60 minute fortnightly shows featuring interviews with various fibre artists ranging from knitwear designers, sheep farmers to yarn producers - they are one of the most popular, well produced and informative knitting shows on You Tube, so if you've not come across them before, they are well worth a visit.

Secondly, a big thank you to Verena at BaerReport for the article about my knitted bears in the November issue, I was very flattered to be included in this lovely magazine all about hand-crafted and collectable bears.

Thirdly, Thank you to Sarah at Yarnologie magazine, for featuring my hedgehog pattern in the festive summer issue, there are some really cute projects to make in the issue and the front cover is so sweet!

 

Finally, before I go I wanted to share another wonderful you tube channel with you, Talasbuan. I started following Mathais and Tova on instagram because Mathias takes the most beautiful photographs and I quickly became enchanted by their off grid life in Jamtland, Sweden. They both have such intergrity and dedication to living a simple life that honours the animals they raise for food and they are inspiring in their hardwork as they begin to restore a much neglected small holding in a clearing in the northern woods. Their beautifully filmed vlogs centre on their daily life: caring for their animals; building a log cabin, root cellars and shelters for the animals from the surrounding timber; growing fruit and vegetables and preparing nutritionally dense, ethically produced, organic food. Recently they produced a short film to announce an exciting event - watching it is a beautiful way to spend 2 minutes of your life, and gives you a taste of the magic that they share on their channel, please take a look and if you are as moved and inspired as me, perhaps follow their channel or become a patron... New Beginnings, by Talasbuan

Well, that's all from me today. Like most of you, I'm up to my ears in lists of things to do in the next two weeks. I hope your preparations for the festive season go well, that the queues diminish as you approach all checkouts, that you find the perfect gifts for those you love and that you have a little quiet time to yourself in amongst all of the craziness, J xxx

 

An autumn fungi walk

 

 

Firstly thank you all so very much for your kind and thoughtful comments, emails and direct messages wishing Toby a happy birthday. He had a lovely afternoon full of the simple pleasures that make him happiest; balloons, cake, lego, sensory toys, curry for dinner, salted caramel ice-cream for pudding and a 'disco' in the evening - he likes dancing by himself with the lights off and the disco ball on. I popped a couple of pictures of him taken on his birthday at the end of the previous post.

Talking of simple pleasures, I indulged in one of my favourites earlier this week when I took myself off for an autumn wood walk. Because we've had a lot of rain here recently I thought that it might be a good year for fungi and I was not disapointed.  I have never seen quite so many different types out in the woods and spent a very happy 3 hours wandering around with my camera and getting wet, muddy knees at Danemead wood, Broxbourne common and Cowheath wood. There's a mix of habitats there: deciduous woodland with oaks and hornbeams; a large area of pine woods and small areas of heathland and it was very peaceful with just the sounds of birdsong and the breeze ruffling the treetops and persuading the dying leaves from the branches.

I tried to name all the different funghi but have given up because it's so hard to identify most of them. A few though are easy - like the yellow staghorn which looks like a fairy campfire glowing in the undergrowth; the false deathcap that has a weird almost luminous greenish glow and the iconic fairytale fly agaric with it's white spotted bright red cap. Each is beautiful in their own unique way, even though some are very poisonous!

There are also some great pictures I'd like to show you of the fox, who is still a regular garden visitor, but I think with all of these woodland pictures I've run out of space here today, so I'll save those for next time. Have a great weekend and if you get time please leave me a comment below and let me know what seasonal delights you're enjoying in your part of the world.