This woman's work: Limoncello and amigurumi

Just a quick post tonight, as its late and I am exhausted. Its been a busy day at the cottage. The baby fed, quite literally, all night and I woke with a sore back from twisting around her slightly in bed. Thankfully I feed her lying down an night, so I managed the odd doze. I awoke late, so Charlie was late for school and, because I'd had to wake her abruptly (and she hadn't had enough sleep either,) the baby was grumpy. Just as I'd poured myself the first cup of tea of the day, Jonny appeared and said he'd missed the school bus. 15 minutes later I'm driving us all the 15 mile round trip to school.

I've tried to work today, honestly I have, but the darkness and the horrible, cold rain has conspired to prevent me from being too motivated. I cut up some paper, and finished my hand and footprint tiles, which I will share with you another day. I am pleased with them. Then, right on cue, Florence woke up and I spent most of the rest of the time baby wrangling. Or baby wrestling, as my friend calls it. Florrie's a big, heavy baby now who won't sit still. She's prone to suddenly arching her back and flinging herself around. Wrestling is an accurate description.

Still, the baby went into the sling and that gave me chance to work on the next stage of the Christmas alcohol - home made Limoncello and Blackberry vodka. I spent a relaxing couple of hours mixing up sugar solution, sterilising jars and pottering about.

 

The now sweetened lemon vodka will now retreat back into the fridge for a week to infuse some more, before I strain the lemon zest out and bottle it. 

Here's the recipe in case you fancy having a go. There's still time before Christmas

Limoncello

6 small unwaxed lemons

1 litre bottle vodka - cheap will do

750g caster sugar

750ml boiling water

 

1. Wash and sterilise a large Kilner jar by putting into a cool oven for 10 mins (gas mark 1/ 140 degrees C)

2. Wash the lemons, then grate the lemon zest finely, taking care not to take the pith (ha!)

3. Put lemon zest into sterile jar and pour over the vodka. Secure well and store in a cool, dark place for one week. Shake everyday - it looks like a snowstorm of yellow snow (nice)

4) After a week has passed, measure out the sugar into a large bowl. Add freshly boiling water and stir carefully until the sugar dissolves.  You can tell when the sugar has dissolved as it goes clear, and if you put a spoon into the mixture, you can't see or feel any granules on the back of the spoon. Stir the lemon infused vodka into the sugar syrup.

5) Wash the Kilner jar, along with another of the same size, and sterilise both. Pour the combined mixture of lemon vodka and sugar syrup into the jars. Store for another week, shaking every day. Strain the Limoncello through a clean muslin cloth and decant into pretty, sterilised bottles.

Store in the freezer and drink neat, use in cocktails or pour over ice cream.

 

 

The blackberry vodka is proving to be more of a challenge as we've gone a little off piste with this. We wanted to use the blackberries left over from the railway jelly, so we bundled them into a demijohn and added vodka. I've been keeping notes. I'll share them with you at a later date.

 

I also wanted to share this little dude with you. Well, dudette. It's Cactus Jacqui!

How I enjoyed making her! The pattern was free, enjoyable to crochet, and I made her up in a night! a perfect project. You can find the pattern here.

Cactus Jacqui is part of a gift I've made for a handmade Secret Santa. I need to post her tomorrow, hopefully the postman will deliver her safely to her new home on the other side of the country.

 

Well. That wasn't quick, was it?! Thanks for hanging out with me again, though, its always fun.

Claire x

 

 

Look what I made!

I am a proud mother once more. Look!

My beautiful baby girl was born at the end of June, on her big brother Charlie's 7th birthday. Here they are!

Her name is Florence Daisy. She was 7lb 9oz at birth and she is an awesome baby. She is also an EXCELLENT reason to knit! This is what she looks like these days:

It is a year ago tomorrow since I found out I was pregnant. A year. How quickly did that whizz by? It has been an amazing, joyful year. That said, November and early December weren't so great, to be honest, morning sickness is the absolute pits. I say morning - for me it was morning, noon and night. At one point I was almost hospitalised because I couldn't even stand water and I was dreadfully dehydrated. But even so, she was worth every single second. 

I have just been reading my pregnancy posts with fascination; I haven't read them since the day I wrote them. I wish I could go back in time and reassure myself. Florence is fine - she's bonny and healthy and bright. She is an absolute joy. She smiles, and is just starting to giggle. The boys absolutely adore her. I love being a family of 5, it seems impossible that we ever could have felt complete without her.

One of the best things of all is that I appear to have escaped the much dreaded post natal depression! My experience this time is a million miles away from Charlie's early days when everything felt so dark and hopeless. This time I am tired, but happy. I even love getting up to her in the night (most of the time!) There's nothing nicer than waking up right next to my snuggly baby; she makes my heart melt. Breastfeeding is going well, and she's not showing any signs of the lactose intolerance that Charlie has struggled with. I just feel so blessed.

My pregnancy was lovely - a relaxed, happy affair. I barely had a day's illness. I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes at 28 weeks, but it was borderline. I made a few changes to my diet, checked my blood sugars regularly and that was that, it didn't have a major impact on either Florence or I, thankfully.

The birth was a very fast affair and I would love to say pain free, but that wouldn't be entirely truthful (!) I had a lot of niggly pains during the last weeks of pregnancy, but at 37 weeks had a really serene feeling that birth wouldn't be far away. At 38+2 I was having painful surges that were coming about every 5 minutes. Dom was working away, so I rallied my father in law who took me to the local maternity hospital whilst my mother in law took care of my boys. I was monitored and, whilst the pains were rating quite highly, they weren't doing much. I went home a little deflated (unfortunately not physically) and spent an uncomfortable night strapped to my TENS machine pacing through the pains.

At 38+3, I had a feeling I was in early labour, so hunkered down at home. I had a midwife appointment in the afternoon and my midwife told me that she felt that birth would be weeks away yet and the baby would be 10lb+. I felt really fed up, and decided to take the boys out for a pub supper. We had a lovely evening full of laughter - which turned out to be the last night we spent together as a family of four.

The next morning, 38+4, Dom and I lazed in bed later than usual. I had slept properly for the first time in weeks. Eventually Dom reluctantly got up and got ready for work. Just after he'd left the house, I decided to rouse myself. As I walked past our bedroom mirror, my waters broke! Weirdly, I watched at the same second I felt it. We went to the hospital again, and I spent a few hours on a birth ball willing the contractions to become stronger. Whilst they were still present, they weren't doing enough, and we got sent home again in the afternoon. I was hugely frustrated and shed a few tears. We had a long old walk around the big Tescos picking up things for Charlie's birthday, and I felt sad that I wouldn't be spending his birthday with him this year as I needed to go back to the hospital the next day for checking over and a possible induction. 

Next morning I was disappointed that labour *still* hadn't started. I was getting some niggles and period pains, but nothing more significant than I had been getting over the last couple of weeks. Dom and I got up and I spent a lot of time bouncing on my birth ball and listening to hypnobirthing CDs. At about 10.30, Dom phoned the hospital to see what time they wanted to see us. The nurse he spoke to was very abrupt and told him it might be days yet. I was so disappointed, I cried. After another hour or so, with the cramps still present, I decided a bath might be a sensible option. I wallowed for a lovely hour or so, giggling with Dom, listening to my relaxation CD and pouring the warm water over my bump. It was blissful.

I gradually started to realise that I was making noises through the cramps, which was a bit alarming. I tried to stop, but realised that I wasn't entirely in control of things. Dom had been timing the cramps, and they were still coming very intermittently - I'd have 8 mins, then 4, then 3, then 7 between them, so, were it not for the noises, I would have assumed I wasn't yet in labour. I decided to get out of the bath. Once I stood up, I realised very quickly that the baby would be here soon.

Dom phoned for an ambulance. It took 20 minutes to arrive. During that time, it was apparent to me that I was in transition, which was a huge shock as I'd barely had any labour pains! I tried several positions to manage the pain, even biting on a towel, but was panicking. The hypnobirthing wasn't helping as I knew I had to get to the hospital to have the baby because of my gestational diabetes, and I couldn't maintain the quiet relaxation that had been so helpful before.

Two lovely, down to earth ambulance men arrived and brought with them some entonox - never have I been more pleased to get my hands on the drugs! They decided that birth was imminent and blue-lighted me off to hospital. By now I was totally off my tits on the drugs, and cracked several "jokes" on the way, the purpose of which, I am sure, was to make me cringe after the event. We also had a rather surreal conversation about Gordon Ramsey. To add to the general public humiliation, I was whisked through the hospital coffee shop*, mid contraction, and briefly remember the faces of several curious people standing up to see what all the fuss was about.

4 minutes later Florence was born. She was delivered as I stood up, after 3 gigantic pushes that my body undertook itself. Pink was playing on the radio, and the midwives were gentle and kind. It wasn't quite the spiritual birth I had imagined, but it was calm and empowering and exciting. The calm professionalism of the ambulance men and the hospital midwives really helped us both to feel reassured, secure and blissfully insignificant in the best of ways - these people do this every day; we would be O.K. 

And here she is, one more time, our little bundle of joy. Life affirming, joyous and life changing. This is a path I hadn't expected to tread, especially if you read the beginning of this blog, but one that I am delighted to do so.

Now I have introduced her to you all, I shall gradually add the patterns and projects I have undertaken over the past few months, and we can get back to our crafting!

With much love, and genuine thanks to the cosmos for our blessings.

Claire x

 

 

 

Life and Death

It has been an absolute age since I posted here. I'd just like to say thank you to those of you who have checked back from time to time, and I'm sorry there hasn't been an update. I've been in a bit of a funny place. A private place. A place that needed a bit of time and reflection.

I started this blog nearly 3 years ago. At that time, a perfectly nice and happy life had gone tits up, and chucked me into the depths of depression and despair. I can say this honestly now, but I honestly did not think I would get better. I thought I would die. As melodramatic as that sounds, every last cell in my body thought my days were up. How could it be possible to feel so much pain and get better? I'd given up.

Looking back, I can hardly tell you how the recovery process happened. I can tell you that it took a long, long time; far longer than I had hoped. I am sure that the love of my family and friends has been instrumental in getting me back on track, as has the kind and patient help of crafting. Night and day, pain or joy, the crafting has been there to sooth worried fingers and to unbend a twisted mind. Without craft I don't know where I would be. The same goes for my family and friends, obviously.

Anyway, not only did I not die. Look!

I have been filled with new life! As I write now, I am 19 weeks pregnant with my third child. A gift that amazes and overwhelms me and makes some kind of sense of the last few years. A much wanted, longed for child who will bring new love into our family.

I feel very blessed.

I have also felt frightened, overwhelmed, thrilled, under prepared, anxious, excited, scared, amazed, shocked, worried, delighted - just about every emotion under the sun.

We don't yet know if the baby will be a third son or a first daughter. Our 20 week scan is on the 24th February (12 days and counting!) and we hope to find out then. I am just starting to feel the wiggles and kicks, although my belly feels massive already!

Doesn't life take a funny path? Twists and turns and ups and downs that we can't possibly understand at the time. If you're reading this in the depths of depression: have hope. I know that hope doesn't come easily and, if it's too much, just have an open mind. Life is rarely as bad as we think it will be in our darkest moments.

I guess this blog will become, in part, a parenting blog from now on. I still feel the need to record my feelings and thoughts, now more than ever. I still hope to craft and will keep you updated on what I'm working on, and our family life. I'm just letting you know because I know that, for some of you, that will change your views on how often you visit me here at Knitted Back Together. If pregnancy and babyhood is a difficult subject for you, then I understand and I send you my best wishes. I hope you understand that its something too big for me not to talk about.

Most recently, I've been working hard on the first module of my OCA Textiles Course. You can see what I've been doing here. It's not my usual blog style as it forms part of the formal assessment of the course, but I hope you'll enjoy looking at the pictures!

Much love - and as a very wise friend of mine said, when it all gets too much, keep breathing. Who knows where life will take us next?

Claire x