the Wise Robin

woodland green

 

Just before Niamh was born I cast on to knit a simple cardi. I didn't really believe through my pregnancy that I'd manage to get anything other than her blanket finished, as knitting whilst lying down is somewhat of a challenge. However, one project would be cast off and magically there was still time to cast on for another small knit. It's as if the knitting fairies were granting me woollen wishes. So the blanket was finished, a vest knit, two pairs of baby ugg bootees laid away, a last minute beanie cast off and this cardi begun.  Just last week, after frogging the rib a few times this little cardigan in woodland, a soft baby alpaca that my Mum gifted me  for last years birthday, was finally pieced together.

Ordinarily any item I knit is left unblocked and instead eagerly handed over to its recipient, for fit and of course a little knitter's satisfaction. But this night my baby girl was actually asleep. What to do? I could block it. I did try blocking once with little success, but with time to kill before the wearer woke up why not give it another go? I came across this which convinced me the process was worth another try.  The next morning the results spoke for themselves. I'm not saying my knitting became suddenly glamorous or faultless but it certainly looked different, better, more...finished than before. And I was able to get another two centimetres into the length which means my baby girl will be wearing it longer. I still have four balls of this yummy fibre, what to knit next?

xoC

paper and ink

 

 

Last week I managed to squeeze some card making in between the feeding and settling. It felt good to get my hands into some paper and ink. I'd been thinking I'd like to make something small for all the women in my birth blessing circle, something seasonal.  Inspiration came from the ginkgo tree down in our local botanical gardens which is just beginning to turn a beautiful shade of buttery, gold. The weather has snapped cold and we even had rain last night. It feels so special when it finally does rain these days, I think the last time it fell was the day Niamh was born.  I remember hearing it on the awning outside our bedroom window as I laboured. We've been putting on extra, warm layers indoors these days, as we freeze, waiting for our new heating to be installed. The girls were waiting on the back doorstep this morning, hungry and bedraggled from the weather and a friend dropped by unexpectedly for cups of tea and baby cuddles. We drove around the countyrside to settle the babe, so my hands could be free for a little while, but she was wide eyed the whole way. She is asleep in my arms as I type one handed. Thinking about dinner, seeing blue sky out the window, waiting for my big girl to come home from gym.

xoC

autumn days

 

Although Autumn officially started a month and a half ago it has only been in the past week that it has truly felt like the seasons have turned. As I went outside this morning to feed the girls there was a definite chill in the air and a dampness on the ground. Laundry no longer dries if I get it out later than 11am and the hazy sunshine smells of woodsmoke. Hips and haws adorn the rose bushes as last seasons blooms grow old.  Autumn colour dots the neighbourhood and our much anticipated first fire was lit.
We're enjoying getting out in the garden now that the searing heat of Summer has moved on, harvesting what remains of our small Summer plantings, and there is a quiet busy-ness as we prepare for the colder months ahead. My not so little girl has rediscovered her hammer and nails while the newest little snuggles deep beside her Mama content to remain awake and vocal during the day. Bit by bit we're finding our feet together as a foursome, seeking out a new rhythm to these days that seem to be flying by. When last Spring finally arrived, after I had spent many of Winter's grey days and most of my early pregnancy on the couch, I thought that maybe she was my new favourite season. But now that Autumn is here I've been reminded of my allegiance. Her colours, smells, golden sunshine and promises of cosying up have drawn me back and are filling that invisible bucket. I am so grateful for the Mama's out there who got in touch after my last post. Your kind thoughts are so encouraging... how could my bucket ever be empty with people like you out there?

 

Happy Season to you dear people.

Cxo

this bucket

 

Today, or rather this evening I found myself with an empty bucket. That magic, invisible bucket containing all those important things like grace, compassion, vitality and patience. Well mine was empty. This occurred to me as I eyed the mountains of laundry that needed putting away and thought  about those dirty dishes covering the kitchen bench while feeding baby Niamh (which is pronounced Neve, we opted for the traditional Gaelic spelling)  and  simultaneously promising Zahra, who incidentally had a look of despair on her face because she believes this Mama will never have enough time for her any more, that I'd be in to help with her cooking just as soon as Niamh was done, whilst wondering how on earth I was going to settle this babe who doesn't like to sleep between the hours of 6am and 9pm unless she is on someone that doesn't on any account sit down or stop moving, but I by now had sore arms and a stiff back from slinging her all day ( this back and those abs are not quite back in shape yet). I was feeling drained from trying to share myself between everyone and everything that needed doing. I kept thinking about all those things that I wanted to do... the sewing, knitting and felting projects that lie waiting on my table. It didn't seem fair. And as soon as those words entered my mind and I thought to myself "it's not all about her and how she is handling the changes of having a new little person in the house" (because believe me when I say there have been tears shed over how narrow my world seems right now), I knew my bucket was empty.  So what I did was I continued right on feeding Niamh, made no more promises to my sweet girl about what was left of the day, ignored the piles of laundry, put the babe in the sling for one last turn about the house , made my way into the kitchen, cleared some room on the bench, helped Zahra finish cooking her feast, ate said delicious feast, settled the babe into her bed (still reeling at this one, shhh) while Zahra tidied her room (of her own accord, without me asking) and William tackled the dishes, read and snuggled with my girl in bed, explained the empty bucket thing to her and how one remedies this, made myself and my man a cuppa and here I am. 

 

 

On my way here I came across these photos that I was going to share before Niamh was born. A fortnight before she arrived we ventured into the mountains to a special spot that we discovered last Summer and promised we'd return to sometime. When I looked at these images it reminded me how much I wanted this family to grow, how much I wanted this. And while I'm not saying that I wanted my bucket to be emptied by dishes and laundry, promises and never-ending settling of a crying baby, it is the newborn dreaminess and snatched moments with my not so little girl that pepper all those things with fullness and meaning, making it all worthwhile. I can't remember that feeling of being pregnant anymore and I'm slowly getting used to doing things one handed again. I'm even sure, no I'm certain, that I'll get better at ignoring all those dishes and laundry, that the nappy liner I'm using as a bookmark won't seem so out of place and slowly we'll find a rhythm that suits everyone. But right now I look at the three of us beside that waterfall and I can't remember what it felt like before we became four.

 

 

 Being here is one of the many things on my list. A list that is full of things that fill my bucket. So now my bucket is not empty, not full either, but not empty. It's on it's way to being full again.

 

 

Cxo