I'm the only person I know who likes winter and the last few years we don't seem to have had one, is that global warming? Last year I hardly got the chance to wear any of my umpteen handknitted scarves, but now it's turned cold and dull and heavy grey rain clouds are hanging over the coast.
And we are crook (Australian slang for unwell) husband had his flu shot last week and became so sick he actually took two days off work (that's an historic event on it's own) and inevitably I've caught it from him (cough cough)
So whilst I'd like be out striding the cold streets in my handknits (just kidding, I've given up striding) I'm actually huddling in the handknits, quaffing vitaminC and picking up some slow cloth.
I think by now most textile people on the net would have come across the slow cloth concept - if you haven't, read Elaine Marie Lipson post on the 10 qualities of slow cloth on her blog Red Thread Studio. I'm not sure if what I do fits the criteria, but there is a certain joy and contemplation in the process.
Jude Hill creates her little slow cloth stories and melds them into quilts and look at Jude's links for other people working this way, it's not a project, it's a process.
It's also about sustainability, with this in mind I took another look at some old indian print wrap skirts that have been sitting in my stash (they must have shrunk because they no longer wrap me!)
What if I rip and weave and stitch together "a la" the slow cloth movement?...
What if I also open up some calico henna dye bags that my daughter gave me - printed with interesting Indian writing which unfortunately faded out when I prewashed the fabric...
What if I add some old doilies from M-I-L's house which were going to be thrown away..
What if I collage pieces?
Because my newly discovered arthritis in my thumbs is stopping me from long handsewing sessions, the contemplation may take longer than the process, which is OK too, I'll just pin them up and enjoy.