Flibbertygibbet

January Times

I'm a freak, I know. I love January.  Time to start over, it's even better for new pencil cases than September.   A friend once told me that it's a lousy time to start those physical processes of transformation, like detoxes, if you live in the northern hemisphere. All we want to do is hibernate.

I'll try to take the blog out of hibernation a bit more (woohoo says the world. Oh, no it doesn't) but as it turns out I'm writing loads elsewhere which is why this has been so sadly neglected.  I left an unfilling job and now I'm freelancing - all over the place.  And I've had s-u-c-h-f-u-n for the past three months! Some interesting work has already coming my way and there will be more.

I've been cooking a lot, and watching a lot of movies.  Jen, I have some new partners in crime for cinema outings.  I miss the edginess of watching a film with you though, as I could never tell if you were going to walk out on me, heh.  However the boy has a new Magic Cinema Card and he's just dying to use it. 

So this week there's been:

 

On Friday, The Road.  The world has ended, the survivors have descended into cannibalism. Viggo's wife has walked off into the night and he's following her last words, to 'go south'.   So many questions about this movie. Like, why did they replace the normal kid-sized kid from the movie with his much smaller doppelganger for the poster.  It's not a barrel of laughs this one but the landscape is stunning. The ending irritated me.  The kid really irritated me.  Also Viggo looks a bit like my dad.  Freaky.

On Sunday, with a remit to choose something less mournful, we saw Up in The Air.  Clooney being Clooney. Interesting tableau of modern relationships and how to be alone - and lonely - in a crowd of people.  Best title sequence I think I've ever seen.  It's from the director of Juno  (also - good soundtrack) and while there are laughs in it, given that it deals with two very fundamental issues - relationships and redundancies, it's not ostensibly one to have you falling about. It's also that much more real than the former. 

And for various reasons, we went to see The Book Of Eli on Monday. I'm a big fan of From Hell, also directed by the Hughes Brothers. This movie is going straight there.  I thought the Guardian review wasn't keen and then read the Observer one. Note: next time will read before going to the cinema.  It's like a remake of the Road after the directors found God.  I so nearly walked out, but wrongly thought the boy was immersed.

All I could think was 'If Jen was here... we wouldn't be....'

Sofa time

For one reason or another, I've been spending quite a lot of time on the sofa. 

I'm persevering with the bellatrix socks though they're not turning out like I expected (I thought they'd be more Lizard Ridges-ish, like some of the photos.  I think that some knitters modded it to 5 stitches between the repeats which would make it more bobbly, less space in between.) 

I also finally finished this, to curl up under whilst on the sofa:


Yes, my first bed sized quilt, all for me.  Contrary to what the cats think.  They pounce on it (and by extension, on me) whenever they can.  My only regret is sticking to my 'use what you have dictum' and using a lightweight wadding on the inside.  Won't make that mistake again. It's definitely more of a summer weight.  I machined it all, apart from the second side of the binding which I did by hand.  I used this tutorial, which makes it so easy.  It's about double-size I guess, the bed it's on is super-king.


"Nice.  When do you get one?"

I've been taking it easy after having a very minor procedure at the doctor on Friday -  sensible women get suspect moles removed.  I went back and forth on whether it was necessary; and where to get it done, at my local surgery's dermatology clinic or at a private hospital using my insurance and went local in the end.  While I can't say for sure yet that it was or wasn't a good choice, I have some reservations about the care and certainly the bedside manner.  My internal conversation was turning remarkably rude and increasingly frantic as he said things like:

"It will certainly leave a scar.  More stitches might make that better.  Or it might not." Ok.  So stitch more. In for a penny...

"Oh, well I said it wouldn't hurt but it turns out I didn't mean it."  WFT?  Is anesthetic on the 'cutbacks' list?

"You can have stitches without any anesthetic at all you know."  Yes well I've seen enough episodes of Casualty and ER to know that you can also do a tracheotomy with a pen but that's not necessarily the option you choose.

Home to the sofa and feeling punched in the chest for two days now.  I ventured out to the cinema to catch up on some movies (Bolt is funny;  watching in 3D is surprisingly fun.  Bride Wars - well I know, what was I thinking...) and purchase a huge pile of  books, my equivalent of the 'I was Good at the Doctor's' lollipop i.e. I didn't tell him just what I thought of his handiwork.
Warmed by the thoughts of all the lovely friends who offered to come around, to pick me up from the doc, who checked in with me. I'm fine.  And about to curl up under a new quilt.

To live for a day

I went to the movies tonight, before this particular picture, as they used to be called, disappears from the screens. 

Miss Pettigrew lives for a Day  [beware, sound!] But the sound is one of the best elements - the music is toe-tappingly good.  I'm not sure how faithful the adaptation (terrible jacket) is.   Jen, I miss our cinema afternoons, when we were 'freelance' or in my case mostly unemployed.  Before I got a job and you moved to the other side of the world (was it something I said?  Only kidding hon.)  I really hope you've seen this movie - I think you will enjoy.

The times - are they a changin'?

I may have implied in my last post that I was about to fall off the earth for a month.  Not so.  It's just that there wasn't much I wanted to blog about.

Then lots of pressies arrived in the post.

This was the surprise from the lovely Julie, which I showed you all wrapped up.... my very own Little Knitted Cupcake!  You won't be surprised to hear that the workmanship is just perfect.  Adorable.  As some of you probably know, I have a thing for cupcakes, like a lot of us do.  Knitted, sewn, and also...

in pincushion form!

From the lovely Tamy, along with lots of other goodness in my first swap package from Round 3, and Julie also donated yarn for the newbie knitters at the Picknit tomorrow (surely extremely good learner-knitting mojo must come from yarn used for Little Cotton Rabbits?)  Tamy sent beautiful bright fabrics and also something that will come in handy for tomorrow - will put pics on the Flickr group.

This is a belated birthday present from an old friend who I saw last week.  I have been thinking "I must get a milk jug" and then put it out of my mind along with notions like "I must change over to my summer wardrobe', 'My life would enriched by matching napkins", "Making a souffle sounds like fun" and so on.

But it's perfect. 

I was lucky enough to win a giveaway on Helene's blog: a copy of Marie Claire Idees.  Yes, I know you can allegedly buy it here, but I've never actually had my hands on a copy before.  Dangerous stuff. I could convince myself that I'm buying it just to improve my French.  Pas une mauvais idee... (zut, je dois plus practiquer - ou bien apprendre encore?) and Helene sent the most marvellous package of goodies along with it - thank you so much!

I went down to Cockpit Arts today to see Ruth - lots of lovely things on show from her.  I spent a while talking to Lissie Baldwin, who is just moving out of one of the studios there, and I completely fell in love with one of her Dolly's Dollar Pin-Up works.   Lisa Marklew's ceramics are utterly whimsical and covetable.  They can both go on the 'When I Become A Patron Of The Arts' list.

I've been thinking far too much recently - mainly because tomorrow would have been my second wedding anniversary, had we lasted that long.  I got copies of the decree nisi from the solicitor on Friday and being reminded of it again, in black and white, 'adultery with unnamed woman', 'irretrievably broken down', still hurts.  Horribly.  Actually it never goes away.  The corresponding drain on confidence which ensues - which is a lasting legacy for many women, I believe - that comes back to hit you in the teeth over and over. I actually got to the point recently where I started to think that maybe it's time to hang up the towel and move home.  Like, HOME home.  Ireland. Jesus Christ almighty.

Live in the country, like this lovely pillow from MCI. 

My mother,  bless her heart said something along the lines of 'sure, come home if you want, I just think you'd be mental to do it.'  She is almost certainly right.   I am getting the fear about buying 'my' lovely little flat but Mum tells me that it will all work out ok, so I choose to believe her.

So tomorrow I'll be in Regent's Park with a six foot knitted sheep, rather than a six foot husband.  I won't be swapping cotton gifts, I'll be knitting with it.   Swapping wedding cake for cupcakes.  Better get baking.

Naughty or nice

If someone you love has been very, very, nice, then you could send them here. Allegedly I have been very very nice, and so a friend treated me to a session here as a late birthday present (33's birthday has been the year that just keeps giving and giving...) It was utterly fabulous, and I'd love to live in the sort of world where I might indulge in the Weekly Groom on a weekly basis - would you get bored of being so pampered?  Well I guess I'd be happy to try it out for a couple of months and see...

If someone you love has been very very naughty, and in fact you're only just resisting harming them bodily, then send them to see Magicians and punish their mind instead.  The Time Out review captures it pretty well.  I thought it would be funny if not riotous, in fact it was tedious laced with a little offensiveness.  Certainly give me those two hours of my life back and let me take a slap at the director and the writers.

More worthy of your £8: The Future is Unwritten, Julien Temple's film about Joe Strummer, which was the Knitflicks movie this week. At one point I got very excited because a friend of mine popped up on screen, and I found out afterwards that he made a record with Strummer. I'd say it's definitely worth the popcorn though it could have been a little shorter.

We managed a quick trip to the SLFS afterwards and I was relatively restrained, though the woman there did say 'Oh you're back again!' and then I worked out that I've been in there three times in four weeks - but on one occasion, only buying for someone else.  Seriously! Thanks to everyone who's suggested hints for the cup sizes thing (I think I might have made up the thing about it only being A and B cups in the pattern but it doesn't go that much further) and Ruth is going to send me an article that I hope will help.  Also, while I am in the middle of throwing out lots of clutter, and some clothes, I am going to adapt Fliss's suggestion and use a shirt I already have as a base pattern for some experimentation.  I also spent some time yesterday sorting out my stash and frogging all the disastrous WIP garments, so the green cardi and the purple tank top.  I've cast on again for the cardi, using straights this time instead of a circular and already the tension looks better.

Everyone please cross fingers and send good vibes that something good job-wise comes from the squillion CVs I sent out last week.

Right, I've got a freelancing job to do.  And a mortage to sort out.  And a divorce settlement to chase.  And a shirt to make.  I may be some time.

My kind of day

Actually, it didn't start off so well.  I intended to go to the London Sewing meet up over in west London for an hour or so before retreating back east for a knitting afternoon.  Or crochet, in my case.  Before I left the house I pressed and turned under the hem on the Liberty silk dress from the last post, so that I could hem it at the meet up.  Left the house, jumped on the tube, got as far as Tower Hill, and thought:

"Shit.
Did I unplug the iron?"*

I called my neighbour to ask her to pop in but she was out ferrying a plethora of small children to social appointments, so I had to abort the mission and come home.  With an extra hour or so to kill I finally got around to making my Tie One On Apron for this month.  Both Jennifer and Anna were kind enough to send me some rickrack when I bemoaned its lack of availability here (in interesting colours and widths).  So here it is:

It's on Dolly and  pinned a little crooked but you get the idea, I'm pleased with it.  The theme was rickrack so it's around the bottom and peeping out from the pocket (because an apron without a pocket is pointless though on reflection the pocket doesn't actually have to be big enough to fit a cookbook in).  It's made from a thrifted pillowcase and some pink cotton from the stash.

Now I just need an excuse to do some baking.  Magnolia cupcakes and pistachio macaroons and cherry biscuits and oh god I better stop myself now.

Then it was off to Broadway Market, for pints of chips and more rippling, with   four very lovely ladies.   Just like Claire, right now I'm all about the crochet, and the rippling in particular.  It won't be ready to bring to the wedding next week, but that's ok.  At this stage I've started it twice,

and at now 45" (these are different colours so it's not that your computer screen needs adjusting, top is the first blanket and below is the current one).  I'm still not sure it's wide enough but I don't feel like starting it a third time. It might get a big border instead.  I've worked out that the ripples take up so much of the foundation chain that you've got to chain about a third more than you think you need.

So soon I'll have to start temping or working properly in a grown-up job, god forbid, but at the moment I'm making the most of the last days of my freedom.  That has also included a couple of cinema trips this week with Jen - and as she pointed out, we saw two Chinese films. 

Curse of the Golden Flower was great.  It's a little like Eastenders in fluoro colours, because it has all the intrigue, back-stabbing and general human misery of a soap but it's extravagantly beautiful.  It was slightly frustrating when the subtitles disappeared - literally at the dramatic climax - but we figured it out.  The costumes are divine.  It's relatively slow-moving but I was caught up in the sheer spectacle of it all.  What I know about Chinese history could fit on the head of a pin, but the film illuminated how tradition and a sense of order and propriety dominated then  - even when life is collapsing for all the main characters, as part of the Emperor's family - their lives were rigid, bound by strict codes and therefore when the emotions come to the fore in the film it's all the more powerful.

Which, in some ways, was similar to The Painted Veil. Someone (Ting?) volunteered that the title of the film alludes to people revealing their true selves. Yes, again the costumes (Kitty Fane's tea dresses - covet... fawn... and the parasols!!) were just fabulous, especially as I fancy myself in a cotton tea dress more than the Empress's huge robes.
I actually found it very moving - when the tide turns and the emotional current changes, it's very powerful.  So much so that I didn't mind Naomi Rubber Face Watts.  And yes, Edward Norton is stoic and dashing and just rather swoonsome. Go and see it.

So else got the Liberty 15% discount voucher (online, when they registered with the new site) that has no date, and no 'can only be used once' stipulation on it, and said 'hooray'?  Who has managed to use it?  I was pretty peeved that they wouldn't accept it the other day.  They seem to have omitted some of the terms and conditions on it but have just decided not to take it in the shop.  Doesn't seem fair really...

* yes

Knitting and fabric and SUNSHINE

Today was a rather nice day, all in all.  I just about made it to Knitflicks before the movie started, frantically texting Claire en route, as I was late, plus I didn't actually know where the cinema was either, but luckily it's just past the tube (and also past Electric Avenue "wooooaaah, we gonna walk down to -").  Anna was asking me what Knitflicks is about - basically once a month, the Ritzy in Brixton (just about) puts on a movie specifically for knitters and crafters where the lights are not quite dimmed.  So it's dark enough for the cinematic experience, but bright enough to see your work.  Well just about, at one point a friend, Adrienne, sitting behind me, did curse loudly and have to remove herself to fix a mistake outside in the light.  Another pal told me that her local cinema does something similar for mums and babies, with the lights keep up so little kids aren't too scared.  Or something. 

I have to admit, I was concentrating more on the work so I didn't watch the movie so much and it was such a shame because it was a stunning looking film, though even if I had been paying complete attention I don't reckon I've had understood it.  But it was worth it just for the odd glimpse of Cillian Murphy's beautiful blue eyes above the yarn. So I think Jen and I might have to go and watch it again as a card movie. Afterwards, following a sandwich and more crafting at chatting at the Ritzy, I headed over westwards to meet up with Jen and Loba.  Fabric was purchased.  Liberty tana lawn at 50% off.  I swear I'm making a dress tomorrow.

That's if I can put the crochet down for long enough.  For those of you who kindly asked after it, here's what I'm doing - draped over Shrimp.  It's because the first time I saw a crocheted blanket I really liked, it was on Green Kitchen back in September and later there was Bella Dia - and coincidentally Michelle had been inspired by a post of Jane's with a post about someone else's striped blanket... then Jane then was largely responsible for the ripple craze which I think came next.  Very complicated.  I liked the simplicity of this, plus it reminded me of a very seventies carpet in my parents' house. I need to get this one out of my system first.  When choosing the fabrics today I also went back to the first thing I'd spotted again and again, though eventually I did go for something else (it was also uncanny how all the fabrics I picked out were the more expensive ones. I've always had good taste.)  Loba is thinking of making her first quilt and it was interesting to see how my brain seems to work when it comes to choosing colours to go together.  There'll be more musings on sewing versus knitting in my little brain later. 

It has slightly scared me that Jane said she used 925g of yarn.  Oh no, wait a minute, I've just added it up and it turns out that I've bought 850g for this.  Ah ha.  That really scares me.  But I bought most of it at 15% off at the Liberty cardholder's evening, some with my measly £5 voucher. I'm using Rowan Pure Wool DK but for my next one (please, don't laugh - I've decided to make an afghan for a wedding present for a friend.  It was nearly going to be in Kidsilk Haze - until I tried crocheting with it, and thought better of it when memories of my past battles with this delightful fluffy devil's spawn came flooding back) I ordered a pile of cotton angora from ebay instead. I got 29 balls for £60 inc postage which isn't bad.  I'll try another couple of auctions tomorrow to see if I can add to that pile, and then that's going to be a ripple blanket, a proper one this time.

And I'll define what's "proper".

Assembly Line

**SPOILER ALERT**

It was the first time I've been to a film where the ending credits were the best part of the whole thing - but wait, that's not quite as damning as it sounds.  Not quite. Factory Girl is the story of Edie Sedgwick, a stunning young socialite who met Andy Warhol in the early days of the Factory and was known as his muse, for a time they were inseparable. 

She was a damaged, brittle young woman who, the filmmakers would have you believe, was utterly exploited by Warhol: for her societal influence in selling his work to affluent clients; for her participation in his movies, which she later believed led to her being ostracised from society because she was laughed at for them; and for her money (she inherited a large trust fund but quickly blew through it and Warhol, who was notoriously parsimonious, allegedly refused to pay her or help her when she was bankrupt).  Her father is portrayed as an obnoxious bully who sexually abused her as a child while tormeting her gay brother to suicide.
Her 'look', pale lips and enormous dark eyes, dark dance tights and short dresses became utterly iconic. But she couldn't keep up with the lifestyle and eventually, even after moving out of New York and back to California into rehab, she died of a drug overdose in her late twenties.  She was a tragic figure and Sienna Miller plays it brilliantly (who knew she'd ever turn out to be more than a boho clothes horse?) with a real delicacy and you feel genuinely sympathetic towards her.  That also may be ramped up the the fact that there's not one other positive character in the film.  No, Sid doesn't count because he used her too, setting her up with the-musician-who-we'd-have-to-say-for-legal-reasons-most-certainly-isn't-Bob-Dylan, and the musician-who- dumped her too, though I didn't actually derive that she had been pregnant, which was rumoured to be the reason Dylan was going to sue - over allegations he'd got ES pregnant and insisted she have an abortion?

There's just no heart to this film - a certain amount of style in the costumes and yes, the casting is excellent (though wasn't Mena Suvari a bit underused?) but style doesn't made for substance.  Interestingly, there were about twenty people in the cinema when the lights dimmed, and about half walked out at various points in the movie.  Was it the overuse of faux-documentary style soft focus? Guy Pearce's eerie yet probably acute portrayal of Warhol? Or the fact that it seemed to be seven minutes of material run over and over and over again?  We had three repetitions of the story of abuse - while it may have been crucial, it lost impact. All the dialogue in the final scene was lifted from earlier in the film - and it wasn't that profound the first time around.  It felt like the film had grown out of a drunken afternoon's conversation in the pub - 'hey, lez maka moovie' 'Exslent idea, howbut Edie Sedgwick? Posh bird, soup can bloke, junkie?' and then they wrote that down on a beermat and a motion picture was born!

So this was so heading towards "Give me back those hours of my life" (and apparently it's only ninety minutes long?? Seems like days...) and just as we were reaching for our coats when the end credits rolled, a sincere voice starting talking about Edie:  her brother.  Amazing photographs of her came up on the screen, intercut with talking heads from her brother Jonathan,  Nat Finkelstein, Richie Berlin, George Plimpton and other people who knew her.  It was then that you sat back, entranced and just wished the filmmakers had cut them into the narrative around Miller's great performance instead of somehow ironing all of the interest out of Edie's sad story.  So it gets a reprieve to 'A card movie' simply based on the credits sequence.  For that alone. I'm still considering asking for the other 84 minutes though.

The Pretty Good German

Inspired by Jen, I decided that I'm going to (perhaps not always but occasionally) let you know about the movies I've seen lately - or fillums as they tend to be called where I'm from.

How am I qualified to do this, I hear you ask.  Actually, technically speaking, I have a degree in film theory.  However, I am the person who, memorably, when accosted by Ray D'Arcy  in our local Blockbusters during the first term,  as he shot promo vox pops for the chain's in-house advertisements, stutteringly claimed that her favourite film was "Anything with Tom Cruise in it".  Of course one of the fourth years (seniors) happened to be working at the facility where it was edited - yes, that followed me around for a while.  After that promising start I managed to get through four years of said film theory without, for example, seeing Citizen Kane; or indeed remembering much of what I did see (no, it wasn't a wasted youth, or a lot of partying, I just may not have been paying as much attention as I could have and things just do go in one ear with me).  In fact that's one of the good things about the blog - at least I have some memories stored.  Because my head is just a big old colander.  So these reviews are just completely personal reflections without any shred of credibility at all.  And because they are also aide-memoires for me, they will almost certainly contain **SPOILERS**, revealing bits of the plot that you might sooner discover for yourself in the theatre.  Don't say I didn't warn you.

The other thing to bear in mind is that Jen and I have The Card.  The Card is a magical little device (that you pay £14 per month for) which gives you unlimited entry at one of the major cinema group's screens.  Given that tickets run between £7 and £8.50 normally, you only have to go to the cinema twice in a month for it to more than pay for itself.  Economy, you see!

This economy sometimes rings a little false.  (Isn't it always the way?)  Because you haven't shelled out £8.50, or it artifically feels that way, there's not so much invested in the film, and you might even be tempted - gasp - to walk out if you don't think the movie is worth two-and-a-half hours of your life.  And indeed that's what would have happened with Jen the other day, if I hadn't been in the aisle seat and she's too polite to clamber out over me. 

Because the first ten minutes of The Good German are atrocious (as is the download speed of the official website so I haven't even bothered linking to it but try the trailer). With hindsight, it's a studied and deliberate part of Soderbergh's homage to movies of the post-war period, because there are certain cinematic conventions of that time that now seem archaic and iceberg slow to modern viewers.  So the acting seems incredibly stilted during the first exchanges between Tully (Tobey Maguire) and Jake (George Clooney) and it's only when Tully's 'soft lad' persona is revealed to be a sham, when you realised he's stolen Jake's wallet, that it gets interesting, admittedly that's not too far in but it's after that alarmingly false start.

Cate Blanchett (Lena Brandt) looks stunning, but not a little amusing at times as in a lot of the shots she's in an embrace with some man or other and has her head thrown dramatically back into the light, a la screen sirens of the time - just looks a bit funny to see more of her neck than her face. I mean, she's good, but it's a challenge even for her to emote using her neck only...  The lighting is interesting in that there are times when characters' entire faces are in shadow - I'd be interested to watch it again because I suspect that it's pointedly done, indicating a character is being duplicitous, for example.

It's a sort of whodunit - a whowilldoit - and it's stylish and visually impressive: I love the shot after Lena pulls the gun on Jake and runs out out on him, leaving him standing on the landing of the bombed building with the painted-backdrop sky behind him.  The dresses that Lena and Hannelore are wearing in the first flat are great - no real knitwear to report on, Jen was disappointed - and it was funny how Clooney is frequently shown with a cigarette but never, ever smoking. Neither Jen nor I understood the significance of the serial numbers on the money (I thought it was counterfeited because of Tully's comment on 'running the printing presses for another few hours, but we realised that was a comment on post-war inflation) and there were still unanswered questions at the end - but it's the kind of film where you want to talk about it afterwards and fill in the blanks, even if you wished it could have been a little more accomplished.

As for a rating - well I've decided to classify films as one of the following, in descending order:
I'd even pay to see this / Worth the popcorn / A card movie / Give me back those hours of my life

The Good German is 'Worth the popcorn'. Even if I was getting it a bit confused with The Good Shepherd (anyone for The Good German Shepherd?)

And this is 'A card movie'.  I'm a big Jane Austen fan - that's so uncommon, I know.  I've been subjected to trailers for Becoming Jane for what seems like months now, as they are obviously bundled with chick-flicks like Miss Potter and the like.  I was looking forward to it.

But it's terribly slight and the horribly contrived cinematography just drove me to distraction (interminable match shots and tracking shots: pulling back from Jane's face at Lady Gresham's dining table to the window where raindrops start to fall, nature in harmony with the emotions and all that - but wasn't that at the point of Cassandra's tragedy, not hers?) And perhaps it's my eyesight but lots of it seemed to be in such soft-focus I wondered whether it had been sponsored by Vaseline. 

It suffers from a terrible case of SWFS (Single White Female Syndrome - all the best bits are in the trailer).  Editing was clumsy - like that wedged-in shot of the letter that Lefroy shoves back in his wallet when he meets Jane in the forest, which will prove to be their undoing when Jane finds it later.  The most beautiful composition of the entire film was when they were running to catch the coach and they're tumbling through the forest which looks just like a Klimt painting. It did make me want to reread all the novels but that's not much of a challenge.  Perhaps I should also watch the season on ITV - please tell me I haven't missed the one with Rupert Penry Jones...

You're still reading?  Wow.