Just to prove it's not cake, cake, cake all the time round these parts (well it is pretty much but humour me) a post about one or two other things going on...
I'm still fitting in time to read and this month I have already have finished a Peter May thriller (Runaway) which was okay but not so exciting that I feel particularly compelled to write about it. But then I read Burial Rites by Hannah Kent and thought it was brilliant! This is fiction but based on the true story of the last days of Agnes Magnusdottir, the last woman to be executed in Iceland. I found it vivid, powerful and totally captivating and a wonderful homage to the beauty and extremes of Iceland... where I might add, I have never been... although I would like to visit one day! In fact I have had a fascination for the place ever since I read Names for the Sea by Sarah Moss and especially the culture of knitting that exists. So when five days before his birthday in October, Jacob said he would like an Icelandic sweater I gamely offered to make one. I might add this was after I had done a bit of research and discovered the price of a genuine handknitted Icelandic sweater! The Lopi wool was ordered directly from Iceland and included a free pattern... which with shipping came to about £35, which I thought was excellent value. And what is more it even arrived before Jacob's birthday.
Needless to say I did not finish it in time for his birthday but the last stitch was knitted on Christmas Eve and he actually likes it. He even wears it! And it was surprisingly easy to knit once I had figured out how to follow the chart. I especially liked that it was all knitted in the round so no sewing up!
And while we are talking knitting... I finished a cowl thingy for me last week. After having a bit of a sort out through my vast stash of yarn I found an unidentified hank of rather gorgeous yarn that I have no recollection of buying. So I cast on a picot edging on circular needles and carried on knitting until I ran out... after three false starts where I managed to get the thing twisted every single time. (There may have been bad words uttered.) But once I started it only took three evenings to finish.
Excuse the ridiculous face... I find it impossible to pose for selfies without pulling faces... it reminds me of all piling into in photo booths when we were teenagers and getting those strips of four photos with us all pulling silly faces... or was I the only one who did that? Okay, don't answer that one.
Fortunately you can't see the silly face I'm pulling here... only the scraggy neck... oh dear!
I'll be back with cake soon, I promise!