Sounds

I'm on my own this morning.
For all the right reasons - boys at school and Himself at work.
Subsequently the house is quieter than it's usual family filled reverberations but it is far from silent.

The radio quietly sings to the kitchen.

Although we live in a fairly rural village, our road is often used as a short cut between the larger towns so there is a regular sound of a car rumbling through. When we first came to see the house before we bought it, I hesitated due to the closeness of the road to the front of the building. I had worried unnecessarily.

Inside, the road outside is a non invasive sound that only occasionally catches my attention. The house creaks and stretches as the pipes warm up. I have lit the fire. I tried to resist the urge for that comforting feel - it seems excessive to light the fire for just me. Then, two wet little faces appeared at the door and as I let them in, bells chinking and fur dripping, I relented. The fire, now crackling and flickering is accompanied by the sound of purring cats as they lick down their rain-spiked fur.

I can hear (and see) the trees sway in the breeze, their leaves have lost their summer deep green and are showing hints of autumn. The sound ebbs and flows. Lily's bell chinks again, she is changing seats. She often tries out several resting places before choosing her final nap spot. Pan, now licked down and almost dry (she must have tongue fatigue) has fallen asleep with her head resting on the hearth. Her ear tips glowing in the reflected light from the fire. I can just about catch a small cat-snore but it is almost inaudible.  

I can hear - quite loudly in fact - my knitting. I have to confess that I have been playing the field with my yarn. I had started my shawlette and it had been flying off the needles until I reached the lace pattern. After a fair bit of confuddlement and looking up of the knitting abbreviations, I managed to get going again until right to the end when I had three stitches left over... b****r.

I had counted the stitches before launching myself into the unknown abyss of lace knitting and had the correct number, so I concluded crossly with myself that I had obviously followed the pattern wrongly.

Carefully I frogged (stitch at a time) the entire row, re-counted just in case I had been wrong, then reading and re-reading the pattern and convinced myself that I could do it, started again.
Re-frogged.
Counted stitches again, placing in the markers as suggested by the pattern.
Started again and was rather startled to find that the pattern does not actually fit in between the 12 markers I had spent ages placing.                                
Frogged again.
I gave the shawlette a severe looking at and put it aside to take to Wednesday's knit and natter.

That was a fatal mistake.

Chatting and drinking tea are not good companions to lace knitting especially seeing all the problems I had had before. So, I put it down. Picked up a new set of needles and more yarn and started a new one.

I plan to go back to the first - but only once I have soothed my jangled knitting nerves with some lovely smooth and simple stockinette stitch.

Ah - I can hear another sound now, my tum - better go and have some breakfast.

Enjoy your Friday - xx