rockpool candy

Don't dye if you're oopid!

So, you're very cold, tired and impatient.

You're trying to dye up several batches of the wonderful white-faced woodland fleece that you've just hand-scoured and has been soaking for a couple of days.

But the next batch of cleaned fleece is cold rinsed and the dyepot is boiling. (These pics are of me hand sorting a previous fleece a few months' ago. Here the wool is still soaking in the grease)

You don't want to shock the wool, so you put the HUGE cauldron of boiling water and vinegar on the windowsill to cool quickly.
All well and good? Yup - unless you're having a fuzzy-logic moment and haven't taken into consideration the narrowness of the sill compared to the width of said boiling pot.

And the whole pot of boiling water tips over you from the waist down!

I'm SO lucky that I had so many layers of clothes on. I was able to strip off my clothes before I was badly burned.

But for those of you who suffer from angioedema, you'll know that a shock or trauma to your body will cause an attack. So although I suffered just a few small burns on my stomach, probably because it sticks out so much! : ) my body went into full angioedema attack.

Within the hour, I looked like Frankenstein. The fluid build up behind my right eye pushing it out and closing it, the pressure in my head causing sight disturbance, unable to think, finding it hard to balance, I collapsed on the sofa. My ever-loving hub filled me with antihistamines and sat with me, waiting to see if this was going to turn into an emergency room dash.

And so today, I'm in bed, trying to sleep. Trying to let my body shut down and recuperate between naps, catching up on a few online chats to cheer me up.

I'm still Oopid. OOpid, OOPID!
But I'm also still here and, once again...I owe my life to my wonderful husband......

So I never made it to the end of the week of favourite things

....my angioedema decided that I needed a few bed days....and when Ange decides that I need to lie down, I lie down.

As a consequence, I've let a few people down. I HATE doing that. In my heart I'm never a slacker, but in my body, well, I have no choice but to fail.

But hey, I've progressed to the sofa!
So here's a delve into what else I've been up to over International Crochet Month (and a bit before)!

I've been snuggling up in 1 of 3, yes 3, beautiful present swaps I received from the lovely Ina of Tante Sophie in NYC. (Isn't she just such a stunning lady?).

There's this gorgeous scarflet, which is like a warm cloud around my neck.

A cowl-come skater slouch that's been keeping my hub toasty.

And the softest cowl that I've been wearing around my house to keep out the chills. Don't be fooled by my bad pic, it looks wonderful on.

I think that I came off best in this swap.... as in return all I did was make her a jumbo skein of navy and white, irregular candy-stripe, as these are her fave things. I of course forgot to photograph it before I sent it, but you can see it here.

And I kept a little skein for reference.

I also found myself spinning up what turned out to be 'Blue Moustache' yarn.

So called because there was lots of prancing about with one of my blended batts one night.

It just HAD to be for JohnK, another US fibre artist I'm pleased to have visit my inbox. If you don't know this 'funny uncle' then drop by and see just why this yarn was always destined for him.

So what else?

Well..... The lovely Kathleen Greco sent me a copy of her Jelly Yarn book. Haven't tried this weird and wonderful yarn yet? The stuff above glows in the dark you know! Get some here.

And I've been battling with giant balls of my own plastic bag yarn for another project. It's so quick using my method (see the you tube link on top left of blog), but I really wish it was more pleasant to work with. Nothing can beat a bit of fleece for me.

I'm an old-fashioned Dorset girl, ooo-arrr.

7 days, 7 attacks, but I'm in love

I'm not posting this for sympathy - I'm an extraordinarily happy woman.
I'm not posting this out of self pity - I have a great life and loads of people have it a lot worse than me.
I'm just posting.

I have angioedema (an-jee-o-e-DEE-ma). It can cause swelling of the hands, feet, eyelids, lips and airway passages, making moving, seeing and breathing difficult. In my case they think it's hereditary. It recurs from time to time... whenever it wants really.

Angioedema is the third person in my marriage (we call her Ange). She's a bossy, self-centred diva.

When she wants my body to sit down, she'll make me fall.

When she wants attention during the night, she'll make one side of my body swell up so much that it bites through my dreams, waking me with pain.

If I go out in the cold, she'll complain and make my joints seize up.

In the last year, she's decided that she doesn't like the way the world looks through my right eye, so is forming a cataract to blur what I see, stop me shooting my bow and drown out my love of colour.

But this last week, she's been particularly defiant. She's attacked me each day, like a violent partner. Walking has been like stepping on broken glass. The light has been far too bright through my aching eyes. My hands and feet have been so swollen that I thought my skin would burst. She batters me from the inside.

She stops me crocheting.

She is a bitch.

But you know what. I'm not her victim. Because she's part of my genetic make up. She is me and I am her. Jekyll and Hyde.

And best of all, my husband loves me unreservedly. He steadies me when I walk like a newborn foal. He puts me to bed when I can't undress myself. He kisses me when I look like the elephant man.

Despite her tantrums, he's stuck with me for a decade.

I love you, my hub. Here's to the next six decades together.

May they be filled with many, many more adventures and buckets more of the laughter we share.

You're my one and only, boogaloo.

x