Little Cotton Rabbits

A month for memories

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

October is a bitter-sweet month here in our household. We celebrate five family birthdays, two for both of my children who turn a year older, eight days apart at the beginning of the month, and three for family who are now just memories (my lovely Gangan and Gampy, and my father-in-law). It's not then surprising that this month brings with it so many feelings of nostalgia and is brimming with memories from both my own childhood and those of my children, and I go about my days feeling grateful that I have such a deep well of happy memories to call to mind.

But then October is traditionally a month of reflection for many, with multiple festivals relating to remembrance spanning many different cultures. It is a liminal time between the bright, warm days of summer and winter's cold and dark, a time for settling in, for gathering together what is needed to get through the harshest months of the year, for cosying up and for reminiscing. Here it's a time for sweeping the chimney, stacking logs, batch cooking casseroles and soups and unpacking blankets and winter woollies from summer storage, and I busy myself with gathering together everything that comforts on cold, dark days.

Out in the countryside Autumn brings such melancholic beauty, with misty mornings and the colourful seasonal changes. It's also an exciting time to be out in the woods and one of my favourites, due to the arrival of fungi underfoot. So it's that time of year when I write my traditional toadstool blog post. Getting out into the woods and lying on my tummy in the wet leaves in order to photograph their fantastical forms is one of my great autumnal pleasures. I am always delighted and surprised to see something that I've not seen before and even the types of toadstool and fungi that I do recognise are always different and amazing.

Coming back into the warmth and cosiness of home after getting chilled and damp in the woods is also a delicious pleasure. And curling up with my knitting as I start to warm up again is a comfort and delight. Pattern writing is happening in the quieter moments of my days and I hope to share some new patterns with you over the remaining months of this year, pictured above are some of the coats and cardigans I'm working on for the small 7 inch animals, and there are a couple of other clothing patterns in progress too. And in the evenings, when I've run out of brain power, simple and rhythmic sock knitting in autumnal colours is a soothing end to the day.

I'm reluctant to state it (just in case I jinx things) but we are beginning to feel on more of an even keel here. Toby is currently, for the most part, content and happier than he's been for quite a while. I know that change is inevitable and always waiting around the corner but I hope this feeling of calm lasts, at least for a little while longer, as it's brought such relief and comfort to me and is very much needed.

I hope that things are calm and comfortable where you are, thanks as always for visiting here with me, 

J x

 

Endings and beginnings

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

June brings early summer here in the south of England. Not that you'd know it from the recent weather though; chilly winds, frequent rain showers and a distinct lack of sunshine have meant it's been feeling much more like March and I've not yet put away the winter woollies. I'm not really complaining though, cooler temperatures are more conducive to knitting and to long country walks, and thanks to the unseasonable weather the countryside is still clothed in the bright, verdant green of spring. The early spring flowers have though given way to the summer ones; meadows of delicate grasses sprinkled with ox-eye daisies, verges of cow parsley and hedgerows of elderflowers, bramble flowers and dog roses, all so very pretty.

Back at home I've been slightly obsessed with knitting jeans for some reason, having switched my colour focus from greens to blues. This indigo dyed cotton yarn (Scheepjes Skies light) is perfect for knitted jeans and when it's washed the colour leaches out a little (though it's leaching during knitting too, as you can see from my hands) and you can give a little extra rubbing to the knees so they look a little worn in.

Since the start of the year I've been dreading the arrival of June. Over the last 18 years, whilst Toby has been at school and more recently at special needs college, we've built safe and comfortable routines that help him to manage the everyday things that everyone else does without a second thought. He's had somewhere to go that helps to fill his time with some meaningful activities, giving him experiences he wouldn't otherwise have had and providing us with much needed respite time in which to work, rest and recharge. Tomorrow is the very last day of 'full time education' for him and what comes next is as yet untested, unknown and uncertain, which is never a comfortable place to be when autism is a factor.

I began this blog in 2006, on the day before Toby started school aged four years old, and in some ways it would be fitting to finish writing here today on the day before he finishes college and we begin a new chapter in family life. It is something I've thought about, simply because life is about to get more complicated and free time will be more limited, but the truth is I'm not ready to go just yet. Putting together this blog encourages me to contemplate all that is positive in life, to go out and take pictures, to sit quietly and edit them and to write about my small and simple adventures and love of knitting. And when I have opened up about the struggles we sometimes face, you - my community of blog readers, have never failed to generously gift me words of kindness, compassion and wisdom, I would miss doing this and all of you terribly. So I'm staying for now, though service may be disrupted for a bit whilst we find our feet and forge new routines.

Well, I'm off to do a little quiet and calming knitting, I hope that the rest of June is kind to you, hopefully see you soon, J x

 

Easter Break and a bit of a re-set

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Firstly I wanted to say sorry for being so downbeat in my last post, usually I'm able to find a bit more balance and positivity. Thank you so much to everyone who took time out of their day to comment or send me a personal message. Your kindness, compassion and wisdom have warmed me so much, your own personal stories that you shared with me have given me courage, and I'm feeling enveloped in a collective hug. Thank you for your generosity of sprit, I am deeply grateful, J x

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At the beginning of April it was the two week Easter break from college and so we had Toby here full time, and do you know what - it's been a good time.

During this time I've not tried to do anything at all other than meet his needs and potter around without any aims whilst he's been busy watching his dvds or looking at his picture books. We walked every day, rain or shine, and those have been some of the best times, when he's been at his most relaxed and happy. And when he's happy, we're all happy, my wellbeing is definitely deeply intertwined with his.

These days of 'down-time' have made me rediscover something that I've lost hold of in recent years, and that is that meeting Toby's needs is not the problem. The difficulties actually arise from trying to fit in everything else.

I've realised that I've fallen into bad habits with work. The first thing I do each morning is check and respond to my emails and messages while my pot of tea is brewing. Checking and replying to emails is the last thing I do before bed too, and I'm often typing as quickly as I can when I hear the last strains of Richard Scary's 'best silly songs ever' dvd at 11pm, which is what Toby has watched for the last 20 years as his last dvd before bedtime (autism dictates a rigid and reliable routine). I don't usually have any set daily downtime, and as a result I'm often trying to concentrate on things that need my full attention whilst Toby is around. Inevitably I'm interrupted, loose my train of thought, and get grumpy and frustrated, and as a result nothing gets done as well as I would like.

When you work for yourself, especially if you work from your dining room table, the lines between work and home are blurred. It's hard to give yourself permission for time off and all too easy to keep the pressure up to keep doing more. I don't yet have a firm plan of how to tackle this, although to begin with I am going to try to put some 'office hours' in place to try and regain a little balance in my days, but I'm now certain that I do need to change the way that I'm currently doing things in order to stay well and be able to care for Toby long term. It's a long overdue realisation and I'm glad it has finally dawned on me, hopefully it will help going forward.

Since he returned to college last week I've been spending a lot of time thinking, some of it out in the bluebell woods, and it's been beautiful and peaceful out there. I've also been working on a little pattern writing and am getting closer to finishing off my spring lamb too, I hope to have her ready for a giveaway in the next few weeks.

I hope that there's some goodness in your days at the moment, and if things are a bit wobbly for you, I hope that you soon find the beginning of a path leading to better days ahead,

J x

 

March

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

March has been full of extra challenges here, a two-steps-forward one-step-back kind of month.

Amy went into hospital for surgery on her complicated wisdom teeth, which required a general anaesthetic and, for someone with quite intense anxiety issues, this was very difficult for her. We're proud of her for coping, and she's now recovering well.

Planning for Toby's life after college has been an adventure in stress management, and as yet is still unresolved. My mind is a cacophony of worries about his future and the impact that has on all of our lives as H & I grow old. And Toby has been struggling to cope recently and has had to stay home from college a couple of times after injuring staff. With all of this to juggle any hope of me being able to concentrate on a task like pattern writing has completely gone out of the window. In fact I can't seem to concentrate on anything fully at the moment. I can't even choose a shade of green to finish my Spring lamb and instead have managed to start a rabbit and a bear, flitting around with my knitting too.

The other day I sat down with a notepad in front of me a tried to write a list of things that would promote some calm happiness in my life and all I had on my list was 'going to the woods'. Going to the woods is enough for now, those quiet solitary interludes help me to top up my batteries just enough, but in truth I long to have something more exciting to look forward to with eager anticipation. It would be so liberating to wake up in the morning and think to myself, 'what shall I do today...?'; to do something on a whim without meticulous planning to fit around other people's schedules; over even simply to choose what time I go to bed at night, when to take a bath, or just to be able to sit and concentrate on something, anything, without constant interruption in order to meet someone else's needs.

But that is not my lot, and so I must choose to either wallow in self-pity or try to embrace the gifts that each day can bring if you look hard enough. I'm coming to realise that since I cannot change my circumstances the thing that I must change is my mindset and have started reading 'A Book for Life: 10 steps to spiritual wisdom, a clear mind and lasting happiness' by Jo Bowlby and I really hope it delivers on that tantalising title.

Happily being out in the countryside always does bring me pleasure, and there are many small joys out there now that Spring is arriving: the gradual building of bird song each morning, each week a little louder and with a few more voices, gathering towards the full beauty of the dawn chorus that comes in April; wild daffodils and wood anemones nodding in the spring breezes and the field boundary hedgerows now clothed in cloud-like blackthorn blossom. And I am grateful for the small sustaining pleasures of seeing the beauty of nature.

I hope that you're finding some moments of peace and pleasure in your days too, J x

 

 

A little lull

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There's currently a lull in our planning for Toby and a temporary reprieve from paperwork, so I'm enjoying decompressing a little with regular walks out in the woods.

Although winter still has the countryside in it's grip, there are signs that a change is coming, and the first flower of the year is now in bloom, the glorious snowdrop. I never feel right picking wildflowers to bring home, they all have an integral part in the wild eco-system, so I take only photos when I'm out and about, but the snowdrops in the little glass jar (clothed in beautifully made crochet by my friend Esther) were garden-grown and gifted to me by my cousin-in-law Nicky and are a beautiful reminder of their wild kin that are carpeting the woods right now.

Inspired by their delicate colouring, I have also enjoyed knitting myself a new hat. It's the Alpine Bloom hat from Caitlin Hunter of Boyland Knitworks and I've used some lovely Hampshire 4ply yarn from The Little Grey Sheep (colourways 'hellebore' and 'naturally').  I don't often wear green but I'm feeling drawn to it as a colour at the moment, probably because there is such a lack of it in the countryside over winter. Spring is on the way though, and long summer days will be following, all things to look forward to on a dark winter's evening.

There is a little gentle-paced pattern writing going on here again too, I'll show you more when it's a little further along, 'til next time I hope life is treating you kindly, J x