Green says, "Go"

This post is textile related only to the extent that I really need a car to lug my textile stuff around. I've been without one now since Easter Sunday--nearly seven weeks. I wish I could wax lyrical about the joys of public transport. Once upon a time I would've done just that. But now, sorry, no! In the years since I was a committed public transport user I've acquired some rather cumbersome craft activities. What's more, now that I'm teaching, I'm carrying equipment around for a group of students, not just for myself. And I suspect I'm just not as patient as I used to be. I want a car!

Last weekend I looked at a second hand car which is being offered for sale by one of my students. I'd done my homework: the make and model suit me--small, but with adequate and versatile luggage space. I'd driven a few similar cars. I like the way this one goes. The price is more than I'd budgetted for, but then the car is better than I'd planned for--not that I'd planned for my car to be written off, but there you go. I'm, ticking boxes so far. Now the dilemma. I claim to know a fair bit about textiles, but cars are not really my thing. How am I to know whether I'm buying myself a convenience or a truck-load of trouble? Thankfully the state automobile association has an inspection service for people like me. I booked a "comprehensive inspection". I was a little apprehensive about receiving the report. Would it be in a language I could understand? Would it help me to make a decision? It arrived this morning: Yes and Yes . . .
These guys must be used to working for everyday car buyers. There's a huge long speil about all the things they looked at--very impressive. Then there's a summary statement. Oh, I love summary statements. For each group of items they give a green light--go--an amber light--caution--or a red light--stop. There's a short paragraph to spell out the significance of each. OK, I can deal with this. The car I'm looking at got green lights in all sections--go, go, go! The road worthy inspection is booked for next Monday. I'm looking forward to being a whole lot poorer and a whole lot happier. Oh, and did I mention . . . the car is blue--bright metallic blue:)

Hat Magic

Earlier this week I began to tell the tale of "Three Hats" One was too big, one was too small and there I was wildly waving my magic wand to conjure up one that's just right. Well, failing the magic wand, I reverted to my more usual techniques. I mixed up a dye pot of Landscape Grevillea for a skein I'd spun many moons ago. There's a fair bit of yarn there, so once it had gobbled up all the Grevillea colour, I gave it a bit of Kangaroo Paw for afters. Here's the result: I rinsed it; spun it out in my salad spinner and hung it out to dry before bed last night. It's not quite dry yet. That's OK, I'm still without a car and so I'm anticipating several hours of public transport over the weekend. I'll have the makings of a hat to keep me company.

Public Transport

The things you see around town:

From what I could tell, this elderly lady was only going to the local shops. But oh! what style: metallic gold high heeled shoes, layered pink chiffon suit with fluted rolled hems, glossy black handbag, plenty of gold jewellery . . . I didn't feel right about photographing more than this, but you can imagine the coloured and set hair and carefully applied make up to match. And all on the Number 86 tram at four o'clock on a weekday afternoon. If I'd been driving, I would have missed it all.

Knitting on the Tram

One more advantage of using circular needles--it's so much easier to knit on a crowded tram. When I knit with my long straight needles anyone who sits on my right is liable to be poked in the ribs by a stray elbow or knitting needle. Turns out that's not very socially acceptable. With my circular needle my knitting sits neatly in my lap and my neighbours are safe.

I had to catch the tram into the city yesterday afternoon. I was accompanied by my bag of knitting, of course. Here's where that project is up to:

I'm pretty much guaranteed a conversation with a stranger when I knit on public transport. At the very least, a glance and a smile, or an enquiring look. Yesterday was a bonus. A young man got into the tram a stop or two after me. I was sitting, knitting away. I felt him watching my knitting and caught his eye. How to describe him? I'm guessing, in his early twenties; hair: half pitch black, half fire-engine red, style: straight up!

"What are you knitting?"

"It's a little cape. I've started from the top and I'm knitting down, increasing as I go", I said, holding it out for him to see. Somehow his 'what are you knitting?' question sounded knowledgable.

"Oh," he said, "I like to start at the bottom, and do my shaping with decreases"

"Mmmm, yeah,", I said, "except this is a handspun yarn and I have no idea how far it will go."

Intelligent nod . . . "Did you spin it yourself?" . . .

. . . turns out he's a spinner too. By this time the tram has reached Lygon St and we're just about level with the Guild rooms.

"Do you ever come to the Guild?"

. . . I told him about our Experimental Spinning group and invited him along. As he was about to jump off the tram, he confessed, that he has a loom as well.

I kept on with my knitting with a smile on my face.