WELL I NEVER

When I put the cones in my online shop, I really had my doubts they would sell. I put up 6. In less than 24 hrs, 5 have sold. So much better than Ebay. None of the hassle. It s going to be a pretty full time job to get shot of all this yarn but it must be done. I can’t stomach the idea of binning it.


I have been dyeing and I have learned a lot recently. First, I have learned that unlike Kemtex dye powder, Landscape and Gay Wool (behave!) dyes must be put into boiling water to dissolve. I have also found that dye is best used cold and painted onto cold yarn. I wash my hanks first, I don’t soak them. I also found I do not need to use anywhere near the amount of dye I have been. Today I dyed 4 hanks from the same mixtures. After the first, I diluted and dyed another hank, then diluted and dyed another and then diluted and dyed another. I didn’t reach pastel! Yes the colours grew less strong but did not pale as much as I thought they would so clearly I am using too much to start off with, even for the strongest colours I need less dye to make it strong. This means that all he dyes I have will last me long long time.
I feel so content recently. I only wish my body would allow me to do more though I am grateful for what I can do.
I have really learned how not to hassle myself and let pride get in the way. I swim Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I don’t force myself to and I don’t force a particular amount of laps. I stop when I know I must.
Of the seven dogs, only two are coated. That really was a hard decision to make but it is the right one fro them and for me.
Today, I am just about done in. I am sore and tired so instead of forcing myself to carry on, I am resting. That demon whispering in my ear all the time about me being lazy and good for nothing is dead.
I am flattered that my hand dyed yarns are selling so well.
We should have the car next week. We were going to Edinburgh for 5 days on Easter Sunday but have cancelled. The weather is crap. They reckon up there is getting 8 inches this next couple of days. Here is blowing fiercely with rain and black clouds with worse to  come. The wind blew the dogs over when they wanted to go out. They changed their minds and came back in. Did I mention that I have taught Luque, six years old, to give his paw? I find that amazing. I don’t use treats, just praise.
We have re booked Edinburgh later. I am determined I WILL see that city! John has loads of times and all I know who have been say it is gorgeous.
The heat sensations are to do with C7 vertebrae compressing nerves. I was offered Gabapentin, and epilepsy drug which also deadens nerve pain but I didn’t take the offer. I take 20+ pills a day as it is. Besides, it isn’t so bad and the pk’s take care of it mostly.I just Googled Gabapentin. You should see the side effects! F*ck off! No way!)
I am watching Series 3 of The Secret Diary of A Call Girl starring Billie Piper. It is very good. Funny. Moving. Billie Piper is beautiful and an excellent actress. She is beautiful whilst still being real, her face has character.

GOOD WEEKEND

I had a good weekend. Quiet. Marilyn came for a cappuccino on Saturday afternoon. She brought some beautiful flowers. I don’t know much about flowers but she always brings those I like. These were Hyacinths she says. Very pretty.

I spent much of the weekend trying to sort out a problem with my dyeing. I ruined a few hanks of yarn because the dyes had not dissolve din solution properly and left dark smudges on the yarn when cooked. I tried EVERYTHING BUT THE RIGHT THING to fix the problem. I even called Australia on the phone.

You see, I am used to using Kemtex dyes, which are powder. You DO NOT put boiling water on them. So with this problem with the Landscape and Gay Wool, I tired all sorts of things to get the ‘bits’ to dissolve. I wasted much dye. I wasted much time. In the end, I poured boiling water onto the dye….and you’ve guessed it, the bits dissolved. Problem solved. ARRRGGGHHH!!!! Now don’t get me wrong, I am very pleased I found the solution. I am just annoyed with myself for having taken so much time (and money) to figure out a very simple remedy!

Still, it’s all about learning.

I have put six new hanks up today on Knitman’s Kitchen. ( I WILL BE DE STASHING MY CONES VIA THE SHOP TOO-THEY WILL HAVE THEIR OWN PAGE.)

I also had a problem with the shop. It was not allowing UK buyers to buy! The shop’s program told me I could have an option. So i put in an option for non-UK buyers as they get charged £1 postage. What it neglected to tell me was that if I did this, I then had to give a second option for UK buyers.It may have been obvious to the programmer but it wasn’t to me.

I have received FOUR moving emails over the weekend. I am amazed at the courage people show in confiding in me and how they bother to let me know how my writing affects them. These emails either tell me about themselves or they share their belief system with me. It is humbling and gratifying.

Facebook took some getting used to but I find it quite fun. I do have lots of friends that i don’t know! I also keep being asked to be friends by people, who when I look at their interests, are fundamentalists. (I shall leave you to figure from which country they are from and what they are fundies about.) Now, is this some form of joke? Is their a ‘Save Knitman’ movement?(my ego doesn’t need that kind of attention, thanks.) Do they score points for each fundy friend who gets thru? Or is it my pink hat and they are all closet fag hags? I find it rather odd. Actually, I just hit on it: it must be the hat! A man in a PINK hat? WE SIMPLY MUST SAVE HIM  FOR JESUS. Though personally, I think Jesus is much more likely to ask me where I got the hat from and could he please borrow mine?

I did my swim this morning, re-hanked yarn, and posted into my shop. I am now going to bed. Oh, I saw the dr and it seems a new part of my spine is acting up, hence the burning sensations I have been experiencing lately. Not seriously painful, just a deep warmth. It is weird how the spine causes weird stuff. I know, I know, it’s where the nervous system is housed and spreads out form so that si why but still, it’s weird. Everything form pain, to burning, to tingling, to thinking I need to poo, not being able to move, to falling over, which I did three times over the weekend. Once at the Wisbech ‘church’ and the chairlady thought it very funny. (Wicked woman! ;-) ) I was attempting to come down a a flight of steps. Two steps to be precise.

I might get my new car this week but by the 10th I am told. I want it NOW!!!! I am excited about it. I can’t wait to get it and then have someone call me on my mobile phone so I can answer them by pressing a button on my steering wheel! I can’t help, I think that is really cool. It also has an Ipod hole, Cruise Control (saves my leg), DAB radio, the side mirrors tuck in when the engine is switched off. In fact, it is going to be a bit like learning a new PC!

PROOF!

(Don’t forget you can click on pictures for larger view.)

The rumour that I am not I am not knitting is just a vicious slur upon my name, Knitman! Here is the proof:

This is my Baby Ull Aran.

  This is my own Knitman’s Kitchen wool/silk/bamboo

  This is my Knitman’s Kitchen Merino Tencel used twofold and this is Knitman’s Kitchen merino/nylon(the dye didn’t dissolve completely so kept for myself. You can see the dark spots)  This is our old Nechung, our girl riddled with tumours who seems to be doing very well. Still eats like a pig and dances at dinner time. Other times she seems to not know where she is. She is showing no sign of being in pain.

DEMON, THY NAME IS HOMOPHOBIA

 I was born to parents who had a set idea of what they wanted in a child. I wasn’t it and this I knew from as early as I can recall.
My first years are dark and mysterious. I just remember an all encompassing darkness. I knew there was something wrong with me. I didn’t know what. I felt my parents shame and especially my father’s disgust.
We had a pet rabbit. One day, my father dragged me and my two brothers out into the garden to view this dead rabbit. It’s eyes were white with some gunge. He told us it was out fault it was dead. I was about 6 and my brothers about 3 and 9.  I knew guilt and shame from a very early age.
I know I craved attention back then. I was afraid. I wanted to be held and soothed. I don’t know exactly what I was afraid of. I loved school, it got me away from my parents. However, one term I turned up at school to find my teacher was a man. My world was destroyed. Gone was my haven.
I do not know why I was so afraid of men. In answer to a question put to me as an adult, I said I had been sexually active as long as I could recall. Yes even at 5 years of age. I didn’t know that I wasn’t and i had been abused. I do not recall much at all about this age. I know I had a best friend. I know I saw him killed in a racist incident. I was told, so I don’t know if it is true, that there was confusion as to who had been killed, me or him. I don’t recall him at all. I don’t recall his death that I witness. I do recall the newspaper’s front page headline: THE BOY WHO DIED OF HATE and his photograph. I am told I never spoke of him and denied even knowing him. When shown the paper and asked who it was, I relied ‘me’. Strangely I do re call that.
I first tried ending my life then. I was 7 thereabouts.
As I got older, I began to understand that what was wrong with me was that I liked girls and I liked girl things. I liked a doll called Tressy whose hair grew. I was fascinated by that. I also loved long hair and would want to brush it.
I still had boy best friends. I was still young enough to get away with not being a proper boy. As I grew older, it became increasingly obvious to me that I was not acceptable. My fathers violence toward me grew. His disgust of me was palpable.
As I got to 11 – 12, I became less and less acceptable to other boys and men. I became very lonely and I was bullied.
I had been accosted by a man in the jungle (I lived in Singapore at the time) and he sexually abused me. I was terrified into silence. I stopped drinking milk as it made me gag.
I kept my silence until something happened to the neighbour’s daughter. I then spoke up.My mother slapped me and told me I was bad and that it was my fault the girl had been attacked.
I had Action Man dolls. I removed all their uniforms and had them replaced with ‘flower power’ clothing, made by the girl next door. My father was a soldier in bomb disposal. I used to hope he wouldn’t come home and my sense of guilt and shame grew.
During this period his violence toward me became dangerous. It is only luck that I am still alive.
The bullying at school became worse the older I got and less like the boy everyone thought I ought to be. I had been very good at needlework and such but of course I stopped doing all that. I tried to be a boy the way they wanted me to be. I failed. I was not tough. At least not in the way they wanted me to be. I know now that I was indeed very tough for how else did I survive?
Religion played a big part in my life too and I grew to to be terribly afraid of God and Hell. I knew I was going to Hell. I knew that the nuns and priests were referring to me when they spoke of the abomination.
I was called pansy and queer and poof. I didn’t know why. I didn’t know I was homosexual. I thought I was called these names because of what those men did to me and because they agreed with my father that I was to be despised.
This is difficult to write, not because I am still suffering or caused pain by it. I am not. I am free of it. No. It’s difficult to write about because so much was going on it isn’t easy to write it in a way that makes sense.
When we first arrived in Australia, within weeks, I had been befriended by a paedophile teacher. He made porn films and photographs of me. In his house he showed them to me and once his son was there and I felt so ashamed. I felt great guilt. I thought it wrong that his son should be involved, Me? Oh I deserved it so I didn’t feel bad for me. It was my fault.
It was also the reason I thought I was bullied and called names. I thought I was the dirty old man in the raincoat I heard people warning children about. I just thought someone had told the children I was having sex with the teacher. I really had no idea. Despite all that was in my life, I was naive.
By 14 I was cutting myself. I didn’t get into it seriously but enough fro the scars to still be visible. I had been using food-specifically starch and sugar-since I was about seven to numb myself. Bingeing was a way of life. I felt bad, I ate. I did not know my feelings nor did I understand them. I know I was scared and I know I hated myself.
Religious fundamentalist had me in their clutches too and their abuse of me just compounded everything else. They told me I was not acceptable to God and unless I repented I would suffer in  Hell for eternity. Again I just thought they knew about what I did with those men. They didn’t of course. They just saw me, a boy who wasn’t a boy in the way they thought was acceptable. They recognized I was homosexual event though I did not.
I didn’t know I was until I was 16. Then it dawned on me. I never hid it. I suffered further abuse.
In my 17th year I started to have contact with psychiatric services. I was suffering from anorexia/bulimia, I was suffering from OCD. I didn’t want to live.
What followed  was two years spent in mental hospitals, being further abused, not being helped, being the victim of homophobia. You see every single shrink and the nursing staff, because of their homophobia, thought my problem was my sexuality! None of them recognized my PTSD. None recognized I was an abuse victim. They couldn’t see it because they saw only a miserable pathetic homosexual who need to either stop being homosexual or to accept. Those who tried to get me to accept it and thought there was nothing wrong with it, were just as homophobic as those who thought I ought to be str8.
The hospitals were hotbeds of abuse. Of course they were.Some staff were nice but in effectual.Others were bullies. Suicide was common place. I saw people being held down and punched and kicked by staff and drugged. I had it happen to me, being  held down while largactil (chlorpromazine) was injected into my arse.
I managed to escape all this physically  but not mentally. I was still lost and very disturbed and was still abusing myself. People say not all abuse victims grow up to be abusers. I thought this was true as I did not sexually molest children. Now I know it isn’t true. I did grow up to be an abuser. I abused me. I have  never met another abuse victim who did not abuse themselves.
I tried and tried and tried to get help. All I kept getting was homophobia. I was also looking for help for the wrong thing. I wanted help to become a good person. I didn’t talk about the abuse because until I was in my 30’s, I didn't  know it was abuse. I thought I was deserving of all I received. After all I was not acceptable to my own parents and their abuse of me just proved I was despicable.
I did, in my late 20’s tell the local vicar and his wife about the teacher who made porn from abusing me. They held a special, healing service for me. When I arrived for this, they all sat there and prayed for ME to be forgiven. I walked out and that was the last I ever had to do with religionists.
At the very root of all the evil I have experienced in life has been the insidiousness of homophobia. There will be people reading this whose own homophobia will be not be recognized by themselves. They will think I am homosexual because I was abused. They will think my ‘feminine’ interests are because I am homosexual. They will ignore the fact the my partner was 1. not abused and 2. is as masculine as they come. Homosexuality has nothing to do with any of that. It just is and some of us are feminine some of us ultra masculine and most of us are just ordinary and you cannot ell us apart from str8’s.! The same feminine/masculine is seen in heterosexual men.
There will also be those reading this who believe I am evil am destined for Hell. I know I am not today. I have been to HELL. A Hell created by the demon of homophobia.
Homophobia resulted in me not getting medical treatment needed. For physical reasons. My present health problems were long ignored because it was put down to stress and depression caused by me being homosexual!!!!!
Homophobia destroyed my family. I have none. I have two homosexual brothers. Homophobia has ad a far worse effect upon them than me. They colluded in my abuse, in my being the scapegoat. They kept quiet or flatly denied the abuse from our parents. I didn’t even know they were homosexual until well into my 20’s. When I was receiving all the flack at home because I was out, my elder brother was living with another man and he kept quiet and let me continue to suffer alone. My younger brother was a religious fundamentalist who continually told me I was evil and possessed my demons. He drove me batty.Literally.I had a breakdown and was convinced I was possessed by demons. I hallucinated. I recall the terror vividly today.
Perhaps my anti religious stance is more clearly understood. I think such ideas are evil and result in suffering for millions. It isn’t harmless. (BTW, how can one repent something that isn’t wrong?) Such dishonesty is at the very root of all this. People say they are against us because their religion tells them to be. It is in fact they who are responsible for holding such prejudice and they choose their religion accordingly. If their religion didn't fit with their mind set, they’d reject it. They believe evil ideas because they don’t see the devil in the detail. They choose their religion according to custom and according to what is already inside them, not the other way around.
Last year, it was reported in the news that a 10 year old had hung himself to end his misery. He has been an effeminate boy and was mercilessly bullied. His school did not protect him and the religionists blamed him for being queer. He was TEN YEARS OLD. He was hounded for being himself, for not being boy enough. He HUNG himself. Have you seen what this mode of dying does a person? I was so distressed. I know he was me. I knew I could have gone his way.
I am very very fortunate. I survived to live a good life. I don’t just exist, I LIVE. I love my life. I love myself and I love others.
The people around me were very fond of saying that people were possessed by demons. The demon of this and of that. Of anything they didn’t like. If such things are real, then I would suggest it is very clear that millions, religious or not, are possessed by the Demon of Homophobia.
I have only here, with my words, scratched the surface of the evil caused by homophobia. I have left much out for want of time and space and concentration. No point really.
I will say this one last thing. The survivors of the Holocaust were compensated. Not that there could be any, really. Homosexuals were not because we deserved it. When I was taught of the Holocaust not just at school but because I knew survivors when I was growing up, and saw what horrors did to people, I NEVER KNEW that gypsies, the disabled and homosexuals were also sent to the death camps. Homosexuals wore a pink star hence the colour being associated with us now. Sadly, those that survived the camps or are descendents hold their own bigotry.
Homophobia is still acceptable worldwide.
Am I angry? You bet! Do I hate? No. I know what hatred does. Do I fear? Yes I do. I fear the religious fundamentalists having their way. And those of the far right and far left. If they the upper hand in terms of government, my life will be over as will the lives of my fellow homosexual men and women. Worse, no child will be safe again and no child will ever be able to be themselves. No child will ever be able to just be and no child will ever be free of abuse from adults.
The fundamentalists, and the religious apologists who pretend they are ‘tolerant’, will create HELL right here on earth.

Ironically, I turned out more a man than my father (and others) ever was.

ADDICTS IN KNITTED NAPPIES?

http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEss10/PATTgams.php

SUNSHINY DAY

The sun is out, the heating is off and I am feeling good.

Yesterday we found some good bargains. I bought 3 hats, all £6! An Iron Fist t-shirt. I also bought a new flash gun for the camera and am very pleased with the pictures of my yarn it enables me to take, as well as of the dogs.

When the new car arrives, I shall be able to go out on my own if I want as we will have a ramp to enable Daniel to go in and out of the car without us having to lift him in and out. The luggage space is completely flat when the door is open, no deep lip like Octavia has. This is the poshest car I have ever had. It takes voice commands! It answers my phone and hangs up all with a button on the steering wheel. It has excellent fuel economy, 6 gears, Cruise Control. Wipers that come on the instant it is wet. An Ipod aux for the 8 speaker hi fi.

Above all, it is extremely comfortable for me. It is like sitting in armchair to drive. It has all sorts of bells and whistles which I am sure I won’t use or won’t know are there! It has loads of space in the back so not only can Daniel fit in but I could also fit all the dog show stuff too and dogs.

Oh, it’s a Ford Mondeo Titanium 2.0 TDCI Estate (Station Wagon) Turbo Diesel with 6 forward gears and 1 reverse.

Poor Octavia has lost all her appeal! I used to think she was the bee’s knees but she rather pales in comparison to the new one. I might call it Jeeves!

I am still dyeing and yes, I am still knitting daily in answer to those who thought maybe I wasn’t! I will take a pic of my Aran and post it. It is slow going but I am very pleased with it.

Luque is so sexed up he woke me last trying to shag me!

SUNSHINY DAY

The sun is out, the heating is off and I am feeling good.

Yesterday we found some good bargains. I bought 3 hats, all £6! An Iron Fist t-shirt. I also bought a new flash gun for the camera and am very pleased with the pictures of my yarn it enables me to take, as well as of the dogs.

When the new car arrives, I shall be able to go out on my own if I want as we will have a ramp to enable Daniel to go in and out of the car without us having to lift him in and out. The luggage space is completely flat when the door is open, no deep lip like Octavia has. This is the poshest car I have ever had. It takes voice commands! It answers my phone and hangs up all with a button on the steering wheel. It has excellent fuel economy, 6 gears, Cruise Control. Wipers that come on the instant it is wet. An Ipod aux for the 8 speaker hi fi.

Above all, it is extremely comfortable for me. It is like sitting in armchair to drive. It has all sorts of bells and whistles which I am sure I won’t use or won’t know are there! It has loads of space in the back so not only can Daniel fit in but I could also fit all the dog show stuff too and dogs.

Oh, it’s a Ford Mondeo Titanium 2.0 TDCI Estate (Station Wagon) Turbo Diesel with 6 forward gears and 1 reverse.

Poor Octavia has lost all her appeal! I used to think she was the bee’s knees but she rather pales in comparison to the new one. I might call it Jeeves!

I am still dyeing and yes, I am still knitting daily in answer to those who thought maybe I wasn’t! I will take a pic of my Aran and post it. It is slow going but I am very pleased with it.

MY OWN SHOP

I have opened up an online shop for my yarns.

www.knitmanskitchen.com

A BIT OF THIS AND A BIT OF THAT

It’s been a quiet day. I had a full day yesterday and it has left me knackered. I have dyed two hanks though and am going to bathe Whitney once I have a had a nap. These found their way to me.

IT’S CALLED LIFE

I am up for my swim earlier than planned. Bad dreams about abuse. No reason other than this is what happens. It never goes away. Oh, once mastered it no longer has The power it once had and doesn’t control one’s life. It just bites occasionally.

I have really been enjoying dyeing and am more than pleased at how my hanks have sold.  I have been knitting less but my light weight Aran is coming along nicely, having knitted about 27cm of the front.

My Tiffany lamp has been cancelled. It seems the supplier went into receivership or something. I got a full refund.

I was supposed to have a delivery last Friday, then yesterday as Friday’s didn’t show. Well, yesterday’s didn’t either. I shall have to call again today. I hate this. Normally my boots arrive next day.

I have received 4 calls from different bank and credit cards that we have. They are all trying to sell me stuff and none of them have bothered to look at our accounts before they offer ‘help’. I will just not answer the dickheads now that I know that when my phone shows a particular type of number, it will be a sales call. A while back British Gas called me several times a day  7/7, for months trying to get me to go back. Hounding me like that was not good sense if they wanted me back. I would never anyway.

Shameless and Luque have stopped shagging. Whitney is most put out that she isn’t getting any. Poor girl is ripe. One, I don’t want her bred yet and two Luque is her dad, so no way. Luque has a few girls booked to visit him so he will be pleased!

Our next show is the Midland Lhasa Apso Association. We have an American Lhasa Apso breeder/judge coming over to judge.

DE-STASHING

 

These are 100g branded sock yarn-Online and Regia, wool/nylon and one is cotton/wool/nylon. Brand new, 500gm lot. Will not separate.

£27 (usa, can, australia etc )

£24 (europe)

£23 UK.

Paypal.

email: apso@tantra-apso.com

MY HAND DYES ARE ON KNITMAN’S KITCHEN

IT WAS A GOOD DAY

I did enjoy Cruft’s. It was good to meet people. Gill was very kind and brought a wheelchair for me to use. The halls are very large and the loo is always a trek away so the use of the chair really saved me much pain and fatigue.

I had a chat with Wendy about Barcelona. It is her favourite city, I think she said. She gave me information I needed and spoke of how beautiful the Gaudi architecture is. This is what we want to see. Wendy also pointed out that English is not spoken. I do regret that my Spanish speaking mother did not bring me up bi-lingual.

I didn’t get around any of the trade stands which is probably just as well. I did buy two kitsch pieces from the Midland Lhasa Apso Association stand. Both are Lhasa Apso is shopping bags!

I am going to start offering ‘lots’ of my stash for sale. I really do need to start de stashing seriously again. I will offer branded sock yarns in 500g lots for £20 plus postage. Much cheaper than one can buy them. Regia, Opal, OnLine, Lana Grossa, Trekking etc. However, there will be no pick n mix! Each lot is the lot on sale.

Bridget will be leaving home and going off to be a Hearing Dog. She si just thr right temperament for the job.

INAPPROPRIATE MATERIAL

It is likely I shall be posting new yarns on KNITMAN'S KITCHEN tomorrow probably

It's been a good and quiet day.

Watched Lark Rise To Candleford which seems to be the British Little House On The Prairie!

Saw, on DVD, Coming of Age. Supposed to be funny and cutting edge but which we found was appalling and offensive and exploitative of the young. We both thought it was unwise to show so much just past puberty nakedness. We wondered about the mental state of the writers and their sexual proclivities.

Also started to watch FIRECRACKER, but it soon became clear this was going to be an emotionally taxing film about abuse and we turned it off.

Bridget had her coat cut off. It is likely she will be donated to the Hearing Dogs For Deaf People charity. Five of my dogs have been previously and all but one work as Hearing Dogs.

Whitney is also in season now with Edna and Bridget soon to follow suit I should think.

WHEN WILL I LEARN?

I entered Cruft’s against my better judgement. I was persuaded my decision and pre-judgement was wrong. It wasn’t and I now know that just as I did long before I entered!

On the bright side, Whitney’s pea in a pod brother won Best of Breed and was in the final cut in the group judging.I was thrilled with his win and hurt my arms thru clapping so hard!

It was surprising that the shared qualities of Whitney and her brother were not apparent to the judge.

It takes a great of grit for me to attend shows and uses up 3 days worth of my allotted spoons, so it really would be to  my benefit to listen to my gut rather than let it be swayed by others.

WHITNEY GETTING GLAMMED UP FOR CRUFT’S

I just had my bath. Now I am dry. Can I go to bed now? oh goody. And so to sleep for my Big Day tomorrow.

GIVING UP HOPE

Hope is necessary for life. Why would we strive to make our lives better if we had no hope that we would succeed?

However, there are circumstances where hope is futile and ultimately damaging. It can stifle us and hold us back. It can keep us stuck where we are.

Those of us who suffered abuse often live with the hope that those who abused us will do an about turn and apologise. If those abusers were our parents, we live with the hope that they will love us if only we could just get it right and become acceptable to them.

This hope keeps us from recovering and moving on.

When we do finally give up hope, we experience deep grief and anguish. Yet this is the beginning of our coming freedom. Freedom to be who we are and freedom from the abusers. Freedom from the need to be loved by them and freedom from the need for them to apologise. Freedom from their continuing presence in our  thoughts.

We come to realise that we are already good enough and always were and we become free of the pain of constantly striving and falling short. We come to see that for love to be love it is unconditional and that what we were led to believe by our abusers, and by religion too if that was part of it, was love was nothing of the sort but control and manipulation.

Hope is necessary for life but being abused corrupts this hope into something malignant and soul destroying.

Coming to the realisation that what we hope for will never be is often our greatest challenge and can be experienced as most fearful. Yet it is imperative that we reach that point in order to free us of the chains out abusers have wrapped us in for years. We cannot free ourselves without giving up this malignant form of hope.

Make no mistake, it is WE who free ourselves. Our abusers cannot. They would not if they could. We have what we need inside us to break free.

The hope that we can recover and be free is a life giving hope and this hope we cultivate and cherish and let go of.

Finty

Finty, mother to Shameless and grandmother to Bridget and Carly.

OUR TOUGHEST BATTLE

The only battle worth fighting is the battle to be who we are. From the moment of our birth, all conspire to mould us into their image.

Instead of this conspiracy resulting in peace for all, it results in the evil of anguish and suffering.The belief that we are born defective, in sin, evil, and must be controlled in order to make us good has  the effect of destroying our spirit and creating the very evil we are trying to avoid. It is no accident that we  have created God in our image.

The dis –belief in man is widespread. Certainly here in the West our religions are based on the belief that mankind is evil and it would seem this causes so much grief and pain and trouble in our lives.

If we were nurtured in such a way that allowed us to flourish and develop our uniqueness, this would go such a long way to making our world a better place. People who are content within themselves, who love themselves, who respect themselves, tend to love and respect others. They tend not to insist their ideas are the only right ones and and do not waste their time in trying to force their ideas on to others.

If we could but understand that those people we tend to write off as evil are in fact no different to us except that they are full of hate for themselves, which they were taught, and thus have nothing but hate to give others.

We, collectively, create people who do horrendous things. We do so by our judgement and ideas, our lack of love and by our failure to understand the damage we do to children. I think deep down we do know we have a collective responsibility which is why we demonise people so readily and condemn them.

I have often been asked why I do not hate those who harmed me so. It didn’t ever occur to me to do so. All I wanted was for them to stop and I didn’t see then, or now, how hating them would bring that about. Now that I more or less recovered from their effect upon me, I want nothing to do with them and certainly do not want them in my life. This self preservation, not hatred. I love them the same way I love all mankind and want only the best for them. However, they are still the same people, they haven’t changed, and are therefore still toxic to me, hence I  have no wish to entertain them!

I am aware that if they had loved and respected themselves, it is highly unlikely they would have hated me and abused me. My hatred of them would be akin to take part in the abuse of myself. It would serve no positive end, but only to increase and suffering.

I know that these people are deeply unhappy so what sense would it make to wish them anything but happiness?

Do I not want peace?

SURELY A SAINT?

There was a woman who loved the Lord so much she spent her life caring fort he poor and the dyeing. She was with them in their suffering. She wasn’t there to relieve their suffering. Indeed, despite the millions given to her charity, she was not corrupted by it but stuck doggedly to her love of the Lord. She showed her love for the Lord by being with those wretched people as they died in agony. She showed he love for the Lord by eschewing the use of pain relieving drugs, instead believing that those suffering the agonies of cancer were suffering like Christ suffered and they were indeed being blessed, being ‘kissed by the Lord’ as they were.

Her faith knew no bounds. She wrote to a judge in charge of hearing a fraud case against one of her biggest financial supporters. The lawyer wrote back to her suggesting that she return the stolen monies she was given by this con man who destroyed people’s lives. Her love of the Lord and his people prevented her doing this. How admirable that she was able resist the morals of man in  the service of the Lord.

Although those people in her care homes were without modern medical help, although there was millions sitting in the bank, she herself did receive the finest medical care money buy. This was only right and proper as she was working directly for the Lord and therefore must be kept alive. She wasn’t ready for Heaven yet.

There is a widespread campaign to have this woman, Mother Theresa, declared a Saint by the RC church. Given that she steadfastly stuck to her faith as she held the hands of those who were being kissed by Christ, resisting the evil of pain relief and dignity, how she took money without a care as to it’s origins, proves she was indeed a woman of great faith and deserves what she gets. I urge you to support justice for Mother Theresa.

WTF!!!!

WTF are companies going to realise that riling their customers up before they get a chance to speak to a person is a stupid thing to do!!!! I am still talking to an effing computer that has no clue what i want. Finally it is putting me thru to a real person. Hopefully NOT in Mumbai!!

NICE TOUCH

The very thoughtful Claire emailed me to let me know that Carly Simon was no BBC being interviewed at 9:05. I read the email at 9:04!!!! Just in time to watch and record.

Thank you Claire/Alex (craftyweemidden)

I sold a lot of hanks this week. Some are multiple buyers. I am chuffed as anything. I still feel a pang when they leave. I want to know what they look like when knitted up.

I have discovered too that on this laptop, my yarns to not look like they are in real life! On my tower pc, they do. I will just have to stop fretting about it as I can’t control everyone’s monitor!

This new laptop is going to take some getting used to. I am only using it for email and blogging and surfing for now. However, it is powerful enough to replace my tower pc, which I might well do.

Shameless and Luque have yet to tie the knot but she is getting close to ripe. Poor Luque is getting slightly frustrated now.

Three mornings in a row I have had to take morphine just to get going! Bad pain during the night last night too. My bloody rib spasms. Ick!

ON MY LAP

I am writing this sitting on my couch using my first laptop.

Other than pc working and buying this, I have done little today as yesterday’s dyeing spree left me done in.

It has been a glorious day with the sun shining bright throughout. The small independent dealer I  bought this laptop from has a glass frontage and it was very warm in there.

Shameless is not ripe yet and Luque is getting fed up! Her daughter, Bridget, has taken a dislike to her and we have had a few contretempts.

Isn’t modern technology amazing? Those who eschew modernity are missing so much and those that think life was better in the ‘old days’ must have been in La La Land then!

Busy Busy Busy

Take a look at KNITMAN’S KITCHEN tomorrow (Thursday 4th March) and see why I have been so busy this last two days….

KEEPING IT AT BAY

I am feeling much better today. Bathed Whitney and dyed 4 hanks.

I also spoke with my Dr who recommended I up my pain meds. Duh!

I can't help it, I still tend to avoid doing so and I feel guilty taking more, especially the morphine. She told me there was no need to, take the drugs, and she promptly gave me more. 

I have to say I have had a much more productive day and have felt better in my head which I think correlates with feeling better in my body. I am stopping now for today though. Even through the drugs, I am now beginning to feel my hips and back and legs complaining.

NOT SO HOT

I feel like crap. Don’t know why really. I feel tearful.

My swim this morning was hard going. Usually, the pain eases after the first few laps but not today, it got worse. I still completed my laps but it was difficult.

I didn’t get done what I wanted to get done today. I did my postage. Didn’t bath a dog, had a nap and felt no better for it. I do get pissed off not being able to do.

And I sold a hank today (one of 10!) that i cannot find. I have looked high and low for it. I have taken the living room apart. I have looked at the dogs beds. I have looked every where I can think to look and knackered myself in the process and hurt so much I know I won’t be swimming tomorrow! I am sure I have not sold it already. I cannot find an invoice for it. It is called Anima Rising just in case one of my readers bought it but really, I would have remembered? I felt really bad for the buyer, immediately refunded them apologized, and although I know they got my email, I guess they are not pleased. A bit like someone else who wanted two of my hanks but then didn’t respond to me for two days, during which time they sold. They have not spoken to me since. really, some people! i feel bad about this lost hank though.

I am not pleased with the way Sunday’s talk and demonstration went. The chairperson really bothered me. He said he really enjoyed what i had to say but then went on to pontificate about his view which was clearly in contradiction to mine so why he said he what he did I have no idea. He clearly didn’t understand what I said.

I get really mad at people who think that what i suffered as a child was meant to be! That it was all part of some bigger plan, God’s will. really? God wants people to rape children? Bully them? terrify them? Why? To make us better people? F*ck off! Pillock! I am LUCKY I survived. I know who many didn’t , don’t and won’t. Do these wankers really think that child abusers are doing God’s Will? Where have these idiots got their hearts let alone their brain. Oh and why oh why do they say this crap whilst also letting one know just how highly spiritual they are and that failure to understand their point of view is because we are not enlightened enough!

I really feel as if I am bashing my head against a brick wall. I spent a good deal of time talking, I always have the same message to give in my talks, and it clearly did not affect this man’s thinking at all and just moved him to insult my spirit and my intelligence and my life.

I wonder if I am right to think that these people think this way because it is the only way they can handle the idea of child abuse? Or because they are abusers so blame the victim? Or they are just ignorant full stop and have no idea what twaddle they are talking?

It’s like these these religious homophobes who refuse to see the harm they do, the suffering they cause, the wretched lives their victims lead. That 10 year old boy who hung himself rather than live another day being ‘gay bashed’ at school suffered because of the hatred of these religious bigots. Oh, they will deny it of course. They don’t hate, they love. Bollocks! if it were not for them and their wicked ideas, young gay people wouldn’t suffer through their formative years believing they are vile and defective and evil. These people have NO IDEA at all the agony they are responsible for.'Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do’. Actually, far worse than that, they don’t want TO know! And they daren’t even look at it lest they lose their place in Heaven. F’ing self centred fearful prats that they are. They constantly attack and vilify us day in and day out 24/7 and they have the cheek to say THEY are the persecuted ones? Oh Brother!

I cannot abide hypocrisy and deceit and lies and pompous twats. The laziness of people. The preference for thinking the easy way. For following like sheep. You know Hitler is hated so much? Because by hating him, one man, we don’t have to look and see that it was people like you and I, our neighbours, our friends and community that sent the Jews, the handicapped, the homosexuals, the gypsies to their death camps.

Stupid to think we don’t each have personal responsibility. We don’t think things through. For example, those of us that support the war in Afghanistan and Iraq or anywhere for that matter, also find it acceptable that civilian adults and children are killed in the process. One MUST find this acceptable or one wouldn’t support the war. No judgement here, just pointing out that one cannot have a war without those children dyeing, being blown apart, wounded, suffering so when we support an action, we are saying implicitly, even if we don’t see it, that it is okay for that to happen. If we truly did not think it was okay to bomb and shoot children, we wouldn’t support nay action because there is no war without such deaths. We really are in a sorry mess.

Impressed

I saw her interviewed and I thought she was a well put together young woman with confidence in herself and a kind nature. I heard her sing and I thought I would like it.

I went out and bought the debut album ‘DO YOU WANT THE TRUTH OR SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL’ by Paloma Faith.

I am glad I did.

In the interview she was asked what she thought about being compared to Amy Winehouse. Her response was humble and gracious yet she could easily and rightly have been insulted as she is nothing like her! Oh, don’t misunderstand I like her too and have both her albums, but really there is nothing alike about these two women.

Critics can be real a*holes. I have always thought it was a complete non-job. I buy what I like and don’t give a monkey’s what you or anyone else likes.

Just because I like her doesn't mean you will.

PERFECT DAY

The sun is shining in a clear blue sky. I popped an extra pill and the dogs for a walk. That’s me buggered for the day.

The visit to the chest Doctor this morning went well for John. It does indeed seem that his diagnosis of emphysema was incorrect and he has asthma instead. Treatment won’t alter.

In the hospital waiting room they had a toilet facility for the disabled and wheelchair users. It was tucked away in the corner. There was no way for a wheelchair user to get to it due to the layout of the furniture. This is a friggin’ hospital! You’d think they would care would you not? I didn’t say anything until I was leaving, by which time I was able to point out the error without asking which effing moron designed the waiting room.

Life is never dull and always surprising. At least mine is like that. I experienced night terrors last night. Made the dogs howl and scarper but fortunately did not hit John as he was too far away. At least he hasn’t said I did. I don’t know what the dream was about with only vague recollection.

My talk and demonstration went quite well last night. I was rather disturbed by a man there who talked at length with me afterwards saying how much he liked what I had to say and then went on to prove he hadn’t understood a word I had said. I could feel myself slam shut and I couldn’t wait to get away from this man. He was one of these people who believes the abused are meant to be abused because it makes us better people and that we chose to be and that we need to love and be at peace with out abusers. He was a man in denial I think rather than an abuser.

Come to think of it, my dream was about abuse but with menacing images and not details.

Shameless has really fitted right back into life here as if she were never away. She and Luque are romancing each other but he is behaving really well because he knows she is not receptive yet. When she is, there won’t be a problem because I want him to mate her. I think this will result in what I want from a showing point of view.

It will be interesting to see what we get colour wise. Shameless is dark grey and white particolour and Luque is a black and white particolour. Both of Shameless’ parents were solid coloured, father apricot and mother grey. Luque has a black father and a black and white mother. So neither Luque nor Shameless  are genetically dominant particolour. It is possible we will get other than just particolours.

One of the new yarns I am dyeing is a 100% superwash merino. I have two kinds. Both are very nice. One is 400m/100g and one is 433m to 100g. The 433m one I am probably not going to be able to get again. I have 4 kgs of it and I think when it is gone, that will be it. Pity as it has such a good handle.