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Why I’ll Never get A Decent Photo Of My Boy

Why I’ll Never get A Decent Photo Of My Boy

I’ve had a horrible few days where every time I think about Tuesday, a couple of days ago, I feel nauseous. I thought it would pass and that I’d be over it by now, but though I have been telling everyone that I’m OK, was […]

Introducing Morganite: A Cabled, Colourwork & Smocked Hat

Introducing Morganite: A Cabled, Colourwork & Smocked Hat

I am pleased to be able to release my latest pattern, Morganite, a design that has been a long and meticulous time in the making. Named for a complex but robust gemstone, Morganite is the perfect hat project for combining a number of simple knitting […]

The Things That Have Been Stolen Are More Than Just Property

The Things That Have Been Stolen Are More Than Just Property

Recently we have had a bit of a tough time at Castle Codd, with life throwing a few stones at our windows and some of them leaving damage, and one of the things that’s still affecting us in a number of ways is the loss of our family car.

A week and a half ago Darwin and I waved goodbye to Russell as usual, and Darwin helped me close and lock the front door after him, as is part of our usual ritual. A minute or so later Russell was back, knocking at the door. I was immediately panicked as this wasn’t the usual knock he lightly raps when he’s forgotten his glasses or phone, it was urgent, harsh and hurried. When I got the door open and asked what was wrong he half gulped and half spoked some garbled message that our car had been stolen.

I’ve been burgled before when I was younger, when two men got into my flat in the middle of the day whilst I was inside, and proceeded to rob the place. I’ve never really got over that and I have certain worries and phobias that have stemmed from that which haven’t left me, and perhaps never will. The car was locked and parked on the drive just beneath our window, and was taken just metres from where we had slept through the night, and for some reason that is the bit that has stuck with me most… how it was in such close proximity to our sleeping family. I seem to have a sticking point with that, and it is affecting me. My neighbourhood and surroundings now feel less safe, and less secure. My neighbours (not my immediate, friendly neighbours, but the people in the streets and neighbourhoods surrounding me) make me feel uneasy and nervous. That someone, for whatever reason, has just come by in the middle of the night and taken our family car.

And for what? We didn’t have a fancy or expensive car. It was a 10-year-old Ford Fiesta, in raspberry-like colour. Not exactly a boy racer car; not something you could imagine stealing to joy ride in. And it had a baby seat in the back and some baby sun shades. Just a simple, little family car, but nonetheless one that someone decided to take for themselves, because in life there are those that will just take. They assume that all is fair game for the taking, whether that is your property, your time or your care, and they will do what they want with it without a thought for you.

And we haven’t just lost the car. We’ve lost the money that we are going to have to spend replacing the car, as though the insurance will pay to cover the now depreciated value we were not thinking of buying a new car any time soon and are now having to spend thousands of pounds to replace it. And our time. Not just the time dealing with the insurers, finding and buying a new car, time off work to sort everything out, taking time away from our family holiday time, but also the time that we should be together, doing other things. Days out these past two weekends, the trip we had planned for Darwin’s 2nd birthday in two weeks. And the peace of mind lost when someone comes into your life and just grabs at things. That comfort of thinking that though sometimes outside of your home and family you are worried that people do not always mean well by you, in this space with these people you are safe. That feeling, along with the car, has been taken.

 

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New Patterns, Ancient Friends

New Patterns, Ancient Friends

I have been busying away behind the scenes recently putting together a new pattern template for upcoming pattern releases as well as to allow me to start the process of re-formatting and re-writing some older patterns. The new pattern format is far cleaner and all […]

The Coddfish Cardigan Adventure

The Coddfish Cardigan Adventure

We are at the height of the British summer, therefore it is of the upmost necessity that a toddler’s wardrobe is kept fresh with snuggly knits as the sunshine can turn on its heel at any moment and leave your wriggly little best bud shivering. […]


Coddswallop

Our First Two Years Together

Our First Two Years Together

It’s been two years since our family grew by one. I think we were always a family, Russell and I. From, perhaps, the day that I felt like I trusted in his goodness to let go of that little bit of certainty and security of the path I was on, soon to have my own little place to live, and took the leap that I could trust in this human to be good and to care and love enough that I could uproot once more and move in with him to a pokey little cold flat in Whitley Bay. Boy it was cold. And it was so tiny! But perhaps it was my favourite of all the places that I have lived due to it being where our story began and the first place in which I had felt safe in a very, very long time.

But my favourite chapters of the story so far all burst into colour two years ago when a tiny human popped into our world, a mixture of Russell and I. This whopping great blackcurrant stained baby shot into the world at a faster rate than I could really handle it. But after all the worry and panic there lay this 9lb bruise with a wrinkle for a nose and Russell and I cradled pure love in our arms. It had not been so very long previously that I did not think that I could trust anyone to truly love in my lifetime, and now I had these two pillars of love, one huge and protecting and one (not so very) tiny, heartbeat fluttering fast upon my chest, and I knew that I would never feel the same again. And our family was strong.

I truly love being a parent, but as so many people will tell you, parenthood is tough. Gosh, yes we have our off days. Tired, grumpy days, days of illness and the mystery maladies of baby and toddlerhood, sometimes that write themselves apparent three days after the screams and sobs with a scarlet rash and sometimes which manifest on no physical symptoms that you will ever detect and are put down to some mystical condition which may or may not have existed. And you are always, always doing it wrong. So says that lady in the supermarket, or the health visitor who you’ve known for four minutes of your life, or that relation who’d do that differently, or the neighbour who is old enough to remember when babies did not cry because in those days 10 month old babies did as they were instructed, and probably earned their keep down the mines at the same time.

If my little boy knows or feels anything I would hope it is just how perfectly I love him and that I love learning from him more than from any of those people. I hope that Russell and I can teach him, above all else, how to be kind, how to be thoughtful and how to have empathy for all the people whose lives touch on his. I do not expect that as he grows and natually makes mistakes for him to always be good, or that he will always make the right choice, but I do so hope that we will always have time to put three chairs around the table and to talk about how we feel and how others might feel, and the effect of our actions on others. And from him I am learning how to best see the world anew. How the most basic and fundamental feelings that I have can be best nurtured and put to use. I am tougher in my resolve to surround myself with good and kind people and to not let damaging influences into our lives without guard, and to that end I have a strong determination to stand up for my family and to know when to say ‘no more’.

I hope that our third year together will be one of greater learning and growth. I hope it will be full of rainbows and colour, but when there are grey days that we can make things better with love and understanding. I hope that that there will be laughter, kindness, and, importantly, dinosaurs.