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Showing posts from December, 2013

The Renovations Grind On ...

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While my floors are being resealed I am living in my new back extension. No books, just the laptop and mobile. The modem working away in a far room. Everything but the basics are packed into the spare bedroom.

My house is 95 years old, old for this area which was settled in 1830s by cedar-getters. Forty years later the timber was gone and people started clearing the forest for farming.

The town began in the 1880s. My house was built in 1918, as a rental. The then owners lived next door, in the house still known as Cosy Corner.

Over the years that I have lived here I have had many visits of people who once lived here or had some connection with it. One lady (in her eighties at the time) came to ask for cuttings of the rose bush out front planted by her mother.

An elderly gentleman came one morning for a yarn. He was the baker's boy in the 1940s. He'd come to work in the dawn, harnessing up the horse, driving the cart round to the bakehouse and taking the bread around the town.

Biggest Thing in a Big Year, So Far

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Excellent health has been my most unattainable precious attribute for about fifteen years now. Six years ago a doctor who shall remain nameless prescribed an anti acid for me to control stomach acid. Less stomach acid in its turn was to control the tendency of my stomach cycling through breakfast so fast that I'd be feeling shaky with a tendency towards fainting due to hunger, from about mid morning.

I remember asking why an anti acid and I remember being told "It's OK to do without the acid. We don't really need it." I accepted it. In those days I wasn't  paranoid yet. About seven months ago a young GP refused me the drug, quite correctly as it turned out, as the drug is not meant to be prescribed for longer than six weeks.

Which I learned from a different doctor. Also different in that he listens to his patients. The problems I have been having with my legs, facial muscles, nerve pain etc all point to nutrient deficiencies as a result of not much nutrient u…

Knitting Hands

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My mother knits. Though she now knits nothing but striped socks, the whole family has garments left from when she still knitted jumpers, lace shawls, baby layettes, panne-lappen, dish cloths, you name it she would have a go.

She has knitted so much in her life that her hands seem to have shaped themselves for knitting. She casts on and off, and handles the needles (knitting pins, some people call them) the traditional Dutch way.

After she had a brain operation six years ago, it took her some weeks to retrieve the pattern of socks from her memory. Since that time her family calculates she has knitted nearly a thousand pairs.

She is slowing down now, but still producing about three pairs a fortnight. She has always knitted for family. And for overseas guests of the family. Christmas and birthdays. There are plenty of us. And for the various money raising stalls run by the facility where she lives.

Then she added knitting socks for a Domestic Violence Support Group, a whole class of Ind…