Warning - long, long, long post.
Initially this post was mainly to confess how I woke up on Sunday morning and hit the cat across the head.
Well, the night before it was just too much effort to persuade [bad] Shrimp to come out from under the bed when it was time to sleep, so I gave up and left the door open, figuring that she'd sneak out in the night. Which she did, but of course she could also saunter back in when she felt it was breakfast time the next morning. Early the next morning. The current fun game is to pounce on anything that either moves, or shows itself under the (very light summer) duvet and so she kept attacking my feet - you know it's hard to stay still and ignore razor sharp claws for any length of time even if you empirically believe that lack of attention should make her stop. Eventually I gave in, and dramatically swept the covers back across the king-sized bed to get up. In the process, I walloped the other poor mog, who'd also crept in but who was peacefully snoozing alongside me on the bed and scared the crap out of myself in the process. Poor Twiglet.
But a couple of things have got me a little worried, or a little peeved, or confused. Or something.
It's mainly wondering how I got to be the incarnation of Crazy Aunt Purl's forthcoming book - "Drunk, Divorced and Covered in Cat Hair: The true life misadventures of a thirty-something who learned to knit after he split". God I cannot wait to read it. I already know it's going to make me laugh and cry, very very much.
Lovely Ting said something one day about how it's cute that my blog is all about my cats (she almost undoubtedly didn't say precisely that, but that was what I heard) and that made me think:
- Oh.
I may be becoming a crazy cat lady.
And then I thought:
- But isn't it a bit early for that?
and settled back on the sofa, flanked by a cat or two, with my knitting, or more recently, crochet* to watch some tv.
You see, I'm getting very into Grey's Anatomy. Loving it. McDreamy, McSteamy, George, the whole lot. But I must take issue with something that peturbed me greatly. In the two eps that aired tonight, Meredith is having yet another crisis and so she takes up knitting. Or rather Izzie is knitting something she claims she's going to substitute for Meredith's crap efforts - but Meredith is supposedly knitting a sweater on enormous broomstick needles which looks to actually be a large piece of stocking stitch - a scarf, perhaps - but the point is, the point is, the point is that Meredith takes up knitting because she's becoming celibate after repeatedly screwing up with men. She's sitting in the bar and the barman tells her she has to stop knitting because she's scaring off the customers. Then the nurse at McVet's asks her how she's getting on with learning to knit, and when did she give up men. She's basically knitting to avoid, and indeed distance herself from, any male attention. Because men stay away from psycho knitter ladies. Particularly ones with cats.
Now I know that's crazy talk. But a lightbulb went off in my head. I realised I may be knitting myself a divorce. And a security cordon. I've been thinking a lot about the amount of crafting I've been doing and how important it has been to me over the past turbulent months. It's been a relief (or, as I mistyped, a "relife") to be able to take time to knit, crochet, dressmake, create, keep my mind and hands occupied and have a tangible object at the end of it. If I'd been working, while I'd have had a different focus (and also some financial security), I think I might not have handled things 'so well' because I don't know if I would have had anything that I could have literally picked up and said 'Yes, I made this' I have talents. I can do things. Subtext - I can get through this. I can sort myself and this mess out.
I've admitted before that crafting has been how I've been keeping myself semi-sane up to now (can you tell that serenity may be about to disappear?) mainly because I've met a lot of wonderful knitterly people and it's been a lifeline, it and the people it's introduced me to have become a regular part of my social life. Somehow it feels like it's almost cheating because none of these people know XH. A new life, new start. That's another reason why I love London - it's big enough to reinvent yourself without even changing your postcode. I can tell these people I've had a crap time or the divorce is getting me down or whatever, and people are simply sympathetic. There's no 'poor XH. We feel for him too." It's unconditional. The support is just for me. Nobody asks 'Are you at fault at all?'
Am I immersing myself in crafts to avoid the real world of job-hunting and house-hunting and no-more-Tuesdays-at-Foyles, doing a Meredith and trying to maintain a distance from reality? (Apparently the world out there has men in it too, I'm not sure whether I'm more afraid of men or work. Men at work. Working with men. Not working. No men. Meeting a new man.)
And then there's the blog too. A non-knitter, non-blogger friend asked me with that slightly wary look, 'Why do you have a blog?' and of course the answer is 'It's cheaper than therapy". I am very grateful to all the wonderful people (the friends from the real world, and the 'imaginary friends' from the virtual world) who have encouraged and supported, cajoled and pacified me, sent care packages and come out for cocktails. It's been a whole different life for me in the past year but I'm glad to have 'met' new people who've made it that much more interesting - even if some times I wonder 'Why would you care about what I'm saying on this blog? Doesn't my whining drive you mad? Do you think I'm funny or just in need of medication? Actually, is there anyone out there at all? Oh god, am I blathering into empty cyberspace??' I've been thinking about this a lot because of an email I got the other day. I've done a couple of interviews lately, one for an American newspaper's St Patrick's Day edition about Irish crafters, and I was interviewed for a piece in the Guardian about refashioning clothes and dressmaking. Then I had a rather unexpected request: if XH and I would like to be in one of the broadsheet supplements, in a feature where two people who have separated both give their side of the story. I have to admit that I was flattered that I'd been asked, as they are "always looking for interesting and articulate subjects' but I realised that I wasn't interested in having my story told in that way, and I wondered who would want to bare their souls like that and what their motivation would be.
Then I thought about it a little more and realised that while I'm not 100% open, I do talk about this sort of thing on the blog without much caution. I might not say it in person to a friend but ironically I'm happy to stick it up here and let it exist as a sort of adjunct to my existence. A very open secret. It's like purging your soul to a diary, but crisp white paper , much as I love it, doesn't give you constructive feedback. There have been a few posts recently in blogland about reading, commenting and lurking. I'd like to say thanks, again, to everyone who comes to visit here. Please leave a comment because I'd love to know who you are. I'm going to make an effort to reply to all my comments - been a bit slow at this recently - and I'd encourage you to leave comments on blogs when you read them - because it's important to make those connections. For both the reader and the author.
I'll be out of blogland for a while, not expecting to have internet access when I'm in Ireland. Attending a wedding, seeing some people I haven't seen since my own wedding, gulp. Gearing myself up for the househunt and the job hunt. The crunch time really has come. No more hiding behing the yarn, changes are inevitable. The decree nisi is due any day now. I'll look forward to seeing what you though of this rambling epistle when I return! Well done for getting this far...
* I caved and started over. Longer, no mistakes (so far) and up to 'gift' standard. What was I thinking with the first one?? It's barely a scarf! It's being ripped. The second one might become a lap rug for me if I've got enough yarn left over. I love Cotton Angora, btw.
spit it out, that's what we are here for. This is the reason why I have a blog - it is definitely cheaper than therapy. Reading other peoples down times makes you realise you are not alone and certainly not unusual. I think it is a very healthy thing.
Love your blog - you make me laugh. Please keep it up - I took up crochet and knitting so I wouldn't pick my nails watching tv. I am definitely hooked now.
Posted by: Miss Marzie | Monday, 30 April 2007 at 13:45
Hmmm. There's so much to say! Loved your post, but really don't think you're becoming the person you're afraid (?) you are??? Even though you have cats, you certainly don't go on and on about them too much. Even though you mention the divorce, you don't reveal too much -- maybe I'm dense or have missed something, but I really don't know "who's fault" it was, or what happened -- and certainly not that I need to know that either! From where I sit, you've got just the right mix. I love coming to your blog and seeing how you're getting along. And what projects you're working on -- whether it be a new dress, job hunting, or partying with friends. That's what's so cool about blogland -- you can visit with "friends" with whom you have so much in common, yet are leading such different lives! Keep it coming! And have a wonderful trip home!
Posted by: Thimbleanna | Monday, 30 April 2007 at 14:09
Hi honey
Have to say - this was an affecting post - you have such an eloquent and elegant way of putting things...to focus on just one point you made - you know how Hollywood always exaggerates things - don't label yourself a crazy cat lady because Grey's Anatomy says so :)
I am so sad that your divorce is coming through already - but you seem to have handled these past few months amazingly well - and what better way to refocus your energies than into something creative? I know you know all this - just want to reaffirm that we are all here for you - hey and if you ever decide to come visit the States (now that the pound is worth TWICE the dollar) I am ready to show you a fun time (sushi followed by Jo-ann's/Micheal's??)!
Love ya
D. xx
Posted by: Denise | Monday, 30 April 2007 at 14:21
Hi,
I participated in one of your fabric swaps before and since then I've been reading your blog. I really enjoy what you have to say and like your writing style. I also think this entry is interesting!! When you asked "Why would you care about what I'm saying on this blog? Doesn't my whining drive you mad?" I had to stop and think. I like reading it because I like the way you write, but also because I can identify with the problems and curiosity that you are writing about but am not as brave to share it, or as elequent. It's nice to read people's blogs who's art/craft you respect, and know that they go through "life stuff" too.
I wish you luck at your upcoming wedding, and seeing people for the first time since your own wedding. It's hard, but every time you do it, it will get easier. Take Care!1
Kristen
Posted by: Kristen Mary | Monday, 30 April 2007 at 16:16
I was surfing around and found your blog-I don't remember which blog had the link. I am 45 and have been divorced since 1991. I knit, spin, dye, and am starting to quilt. I live in Iowa. Your blog brings back memories for me-starting over and learning to live on my own. I can tell you it does get better; as far as I know, no one has actually died from a divorce, even though it hurts like Hell while you are going through it.
Posted by: Brenda | Monday, 30 April 2007 at 17:55
Well you did say it was a long blog - and it was.... ;-). But I think you're being a bit hard on yourself. There's nothing wrong with having a few cats and showing them some affection - this does not make you mad old cat lady.
Also there is nothing wrong with liking crafts. There has always been an underground craft movement but I think the recent resurgence in people openly knitting has made the rest of us a little braver to say in public that we craft. There are much worse things to be involved with.
I can also sympathise with the opening your heart on the blog element – although I haven’t gone too far yet DH often asks ‘how much are you putting on that blog and who reads it?’ – but there again he always asks ‘what are you making that for?’.
In conclusion – don’t worry. It’s healthy to have a hobby and to have real friends and friends via blogland – both have their place. I’ve really enjoyed your blog and am looking forward to Fabric swap 3...
Take care and have fun in Ireland.
Posted by: Sarah Jayne | Monday, 30 April 2007 at 18:15
Blog=cheaper than therapy. I never thought of it that way, but you are absolutely right.
I find it hard to discuss in person quite a bit that I find easy to put 'out there' on my blog. How weird is that. But I'm with you on the newspaper article offer. I think no-one ever seems to come off looking good and why would you want to hold yourself up to that kind of scrutiny? At least with blogs you get 100% editorial control!
Knitting yourself some kind of protective forcefield sounds like a very appealing idea. Must remember that for my next crisis!
Posted by: Ali | Monday, 30 April 2007 at 18:39
i say revel in your crafty, creative freedom. enjoy your blog friends and your real world ones, too. stroke your cats. bake stuff. do at least one thing everyday to make yourself happy. change can be hard, but it can also lead you to places you didn't ever think you'd go. realize this is all trite and corny, but it might just be true...
this much i know: you'll miss foyles when you're stuck in full-time employment again, no matter how rewarding your job is! xo
Posted by: brandarling | Monday, 30 April 2007 at 18:50
Sounds like you're hanging in pretty well through some really trying times. It's essential to have some kind of outlet, and you have your wonderful craftiness and this equally wonderful blog, which I thoroughly enjoy reading. You're honest and self-deprecating, which is very endearing. I wish I could pop over to London from California for a cup of tea with you (or a pint, you know, either one). Keep your chin up, we're here for you.
Posted by: Sarah | Monday, 30 April 2007 at 19:25
I've been through exactly what you are going through right now: husband split (with 'someone else' no less), crazy cats, finding new digs, legal jargon and lawyers (ugh), and finally, a newer, freer, better life! You keep pushing on, girl, because I wish I did it as well as you do when I was going through it. You take the sight out of there eyes at the Irish wedding as well - cuz you will!
Happily remarried in Canada (with a gorgeous hubby and baby),
Sarah :)
Posted by: mmdesigns | Monday, 30 April 2007 at 19:59
Knitting, cats, blogs and scaring men off? me too! Except you get to live in London and drink cocktails, whereas I just relish the memories of such heady days....
Posted by: ruth singer | Monday, 30 April 2007 at 21:31
Hi
I really appreciate your blog for it's honesty and humour. To start with I felt uncomfortable, nosy even, reading peoples blogs but it has made such a big difference. I picked myself up after a big fall and wish i'd had an outlet like this to make contact with people and feel less alienated. Yes, real world friends are really important, but they may not have been through the same situations or have the same coping mechanisms - and it's amazing how many people dismiss craft hobbies as being spinster-y still - it makes a difference to your esteem to see that what you do is valued and respected.
anyway, i guess i'm trying to say thanks for sharing :) and don't worry - things get better - much better ;)
Posted by: Clare | Monday, 30 April 2007 at 22:11
Good observations on everything! I know exactly what you mean about the kitties attacking bare feet sticking out from under the duvet...
I get blank looks sometimes when I mention that I have a blog and that I talk about my knitting on it, but who cares! You are very open on your blog and thats what makes people warm to you...and I envy you sometimes in London-those cocktails,meeting friends in town etc etc. If u are in Dublin this Saturday we are meeting up in the Filmbase cafe on Curved Street in Temple Bar for our knitting therapy!!
Posted by: Sara | Monday, 30 April 2007 at 22:29
Ooh, my cat used to claw any appendages that stuck out of the duvet...even caught him pouncing once, but that was when he was still a kitty. Anyway, to me you're just another cat lover who happens to be single...hey I was one too, except I only have the one cat.
I also empathise on owning and keeping a blog. Some of my friends don't even know I keep one, in case they thought I was bizarre. But I love your funny and very witty blog. Please keep it up!
Posted by: Jade | Tuesday, 01 May 2007 at 04:25
I love Gray's too, but don't forget they also had a bomb in someone's chest which went off in the operating suite..fantasy! Kniting, sewing, gardening, baking, crochet are all therapy I think as they allow your mind to switch off and focus on the task in hand which is good for all of us, regardless of the enormity of whatever else is going on in life.
Posted by: Jo | Tuesday, 01 May 2007 at 10:14
Hi,
Just came over for a visit after you left a comment on my blog. Very interesting post you've written and I agree with so many of your sentiments. It ocurred to me the other day that I reveal quite a lot of myself on my blog and strangely no-one around here knows I have it. I haven't told anyone except my two sisters and I don't want to either.
Like you I craft to keep sane - someone just asked me how I manage to tun a home, craft and keep a blog. I'm wondering too!
Posted by: Simmy | Tuesday, 01 May 2007 at 16:24
"Do you think I'm funny or just in need of medication?"
You're hilarious.
I started to craft as an antidote to writer's block. But I definitely found that all sorts of issues (good and bad) about self-worth, time, productivity, femininity and motherhood came bound up in the things I was making. I do think it's hard to separate craft and gender identity adn all the things that come attached to our femaleness like marriage, divorce, motherhood (or lack thereof), sisterhood, body blah blah blah. Though of course sometimes a scarf is just to keep our necks warm.
And blogging too, the diary quality feels very female to me, reading someone's blog reminds me of reading Charlotte Bronte's letters (though of course it's a living diary - and like anything living it's dynamic and wandersome and organic and prone to mood swings). But I feel at once like the reader and also occasionally like an intruder, like I'm not the intended audience. More to say but Fred is pulling the table - and therefore the computer away from me. A hint?
Posted by: Penni | Wednesday, 02 May 2007 at 00:07
I love your crazy post - it sums up so many of the reasons why blogging is great. In many ways it is easier to bare your soul here than in person - something I think is a very healthy and useful thing. We all gain from shared experiences and sometimes just the act of writing something down is one of purging an uncomfortable feeling or troubling experience. I'm glad you seize the keyboard and write from the heart - it's one of the things what makes visiting here so rewarding and compelling - that and the crafting and, of course, the cats!
Posted by: julie | Wednesday, 02 May 2007 at 11:25
I definitely agree with crafting for therapy - mine is a way of coping with three small children and a very untidy house - although maybe the untidy house is a direct result of the crafting - hmmm?!
However many hours I spend tidying the children can destroy the end result within 5 minutes of coming in from school whereas if I spend the time crafting I have something beautiful and permanent to show for it!
Your post was lovely - keep going!
from a mad chicken-girl
Posted by: Lucy Locket | Wednesday, 02 May 2007 at 12:41
Hi. I am really sorry to hear what you've been going through lately. Any form of drastic change is stressful, and I imagine that going through a divorce brings change on so many levels that the stress and upset just multiplies. I'm just glad tha you've found an outlet for it that is actually positive (my mum gave up eating - knitting woul have been much better!).
BTW I'm REALLY glad to hear that you didn't do the Guardian supplement column. I hate that column - it's toe-curling and I always wonder why someone would want to share such intimate details (with photos). I always think that participants would regret it. Some things are best left private.
Posted by: Fliss | Saturday, 05 May 2007 at 10:56
We are have our ways of comforting ourselves through a crisis, and if its something as positive and productive as crafting, wheres the harm? Harm and problems start with addictions that prevent you from living your life the way you want to ... I think you are living your life the way you want to now? And you have made many friends through it? Perhaps you will meet a male knitter ... or what about a male spinner ... that would be a perfect match!!! ... or sheep farmer! .. in Ireland, at the wedding.
Posted by: Rebecca (living sustainably and felting in rural Ireland) | Monday, 07 May 2007 at 20:50
I am a divorce lawyer and so I can officially say that you should do whatever it takes to get over XH and that period in your life and to get reeady for the next wonderful (even though it seems unlikely now) period. Plus, when I was going through the loss of a friendship that had been very important to me a psychotherapist friend taught me the very respected distraction technique - which is basically what you are doing. For me it was making pinwheel quilt blocks everytime I thought of my lost friend. For you its crochet or whatever. The point is - its not bad or crazy, it is a medically recognised technique so go for it! And, if you are still watching Grey's Anatomy and have seen what Izzy was up to with those scissors last week, you will know... you are far far from crazy!!
Posted by: Helen Conway | Wednesday, 09 May 2007 at 18:56