Idle hands

I used to knit. Yards and yards of yarn. No begging rello that came to my door was ever knocked back; my children, other people’s children, nieces, nephews, all got a garment each winter. As a mum raising two boisterous boys, I didn’t mind so much, I had plenty of time on my hands. And as little old ladies were always reminding us, ‘the Devil finds work for idle hands’. Wool was cheaper then and apart from the satisfaction of creating something original it was a more practical option to make your own than to buy a more expensive mass produced, machine made garment.

I loved to drop in to my local wool shop and speak to the old dears behind the counter. (They’re probably the ones who coined that term about the Devil and idle hands.) They could always answer questions about flat seams and cables and how to change colours when doing an Aran knit. Then I’d browse through pattern books, feast on the colours and feel the textures.

The little old ladies have all gone to God now, as have most of the shops and there’s no one there to have crafty chats with. Most of the shops that are left have gone on line. They probably feel that it is much cheaper to put together a website. I can’t blame them, not enough off the street customers to pay for the rent. Can you imagine how useless that is to somebody like me? I mean, knitting is a hands-on occupation for us serious knitters. So is choosing your materials. I feel the same about the E-reader, but that’s another story.

The trouble is that we are a throwaway society. There’s no point spending hours on creating something when it’s likely to last as long as the next season. One by one those arts and crafts are dying. There’s nobody around to pass them on to the next generation. I mean who knows how to tat these days? There was a glimmer of hope a few years ago when some film star bimbo knitted herself a scarf. Every woman and her dog jumped on the bandwagon, (remember that fantasy wool? It looked fantastic but was hell to knit if you dropped a stitch). It was only a fad.

I don’t want to be an old stick in the mud about it…well actually I do. I have grandchildren now. Their parents expect me to get my knitting needles out of hock. I have commissions galore and need to talk to somebody about a Shaker Rib and reversible knitting stitches.

Coffee, Tea or Bonox

'Coffee, tea or Bonox?' was an advertising slogan. Both the drink and the slogan originated in the US. We seem to have adopted the slogan in Australia (some time in my dim and distant past), but I don't think many of us took to the drink. I began my relationship with coffee at 16 and haven't stopped to take breath since.

The smell of coffee freshly brewed still brings back fond memories of my younger self. Summer or winter, I greeted each new day with a cig in one hand and a coffee in the other. Usually I’d be sharing it all with the birds and the bees out in the garden. What they thought of second hand smoke I’ll never know, but thankfully for me and luckily for them I’ve given up the former. But I’m still hooked on the latter. Those nearest and dearest to me stay well out of the way until I’ve had my caffeine fix. I still can’t function without that first hit.

Is coffee another habit I should kick? If so, then millions of people world-wide should be joining me. But neither I nor they intend to give it up. Coffee has become an integral part of our lives and until somebody offers us something to equal it, we’re sticking with the devil we know.

Coffee has become a generic term for drink. Even if your guests end up drinking herbal tea or milkshakes you will always automatically offer them coffee. Coffee breaks the ice in a variety of social settings and stimulates conversation. And paradoxically while it is said to be a stimulant coffee also relaxes those first date tensions and soothes down lovers’ tiffs.

Coffee smells like ambrosia should taste, but falls far short of that, what a shame. I do keep hoping and trying. Whenever I grind and plunge or mix blends and dripolate I anticipate and salivate at the thought that I may have got that particular blend right this time round. It’s my holy grail, a mission I intend to follow through to the bitter, smooth, bold and playful, organic and fair trade end.