I’ve been hiding out in the countryside, catching up with family, and reacquainting myself with some local bike routes in the surprise spots of sunshine. Tom and I are off to Cornwall today so I’m looking forward to some windy wild coast and a few spins on new roads. Hope you’re enjoying some sunshine where you are.
My brother came round for tea the other day and shared the ‘shocking’ news that Google Reader is shutting up shop! Shocking for him at least, who has a lifetime of RSS feeds on there. I looked on blankly and topped up his tea. RSS feeds are something I think I should understand better (I have a link over there on the right after all!) But the simplicity of Bloglovin has allowed me to be wilfully remiss and it’s an easy way to keep up with all you lovely bloggy fellows. For once, my digital ignorance has worked in my favour! Thank you google.
We’ve had grey skies, torrential rain, and even the odd shower of hail; weather best spent indoors, close to the fire. Without the pull of a sunny day, I can start stitching that new pile of fabric. Unfortunately, an encounter with Fantastic Mr Fox has put my machine out of action. Turns out stitching through fabric and hot glue is ill-advised. Who knew?! But, the sacrificial stitching did contribute to a pretty great costume for World Book Day, and Tom’s first appearance in the local press (he’s a proper local now.)
So, while my freshly cut patchwork pieces lie awaiting a repaired sewing machine, I’ve been busy doing other things. Knitting is pleasingly analogue- no need for a plug socket and the only breakdowns are human (knitting in the round is fiddly). This first mitten was on the needles for a long time; I’m hoping the second will go a little quicker, and start keeping my hands warm on these cold mornings. Tom’s been drawing galaxies for his class, and I’ve been reading under the covers. The only thing missing from this rainy day is some fresh baking. So I’m off to address that right now.
If you take the train to Chichester and turn right, out of town, instead of left to the cathedral centre, you will eventually come across this unassuming warehouse. Travelling hours by boat and train to reach the eternal maker seems perhaps a little overly keen; that is, until you walk inside. After getting lost in its aisles of fabrics, rich colours just asking to be stroked, you’ll understand its cult following.
I found this place a year ago. The spoils of the previous trip have all been stitched in to bags, cushions and sundries, so a return trip was called for. And who more appropriate to go with than my mum, who started me on this crafty adventure back in childhood days of summer dresses, handmade dolls, and satin cushions (it shocks me now to recall how much I loved the colour pink!)
I had no specific project in mind so we filled our hands with bundles from their baskets of fat quarters and marvelled at the patterns: A deer wearing spectacles! A mustard yellow bird! A frog prince! All highly practical, of course.. So, I spent too much, as expected, and carried home a bag of brilliant colours. Now I have no excuse not to get stitching.
Queuing for the ferry every day you’ll see a lot of yellow. A neon jacket, a flash of fluorescent and even the odd bright orange sock. And the numbers in these garish colours only grow as you drive through the city on the other side. Impossible to ignore, sliding seamlessly through traffic, pedalling purposefully towards their carbon-free day. Smug gits. When you join these neon ranks it’s hard not to feel just a little pleased with yourself. Just a ten-minute spin and your heart’s racing, you feel full of fresh air, and you beat the bus! That alone makes it worthwhile.
Cycling in the city is speedy and ever-changing. There’s no guarantee a car won’t pull directly in front of you, even if they appear to have seen you; or they might overtake and then stop directly in front of you to make a right hand turn. Some drivers anticipate a bike and will stop for you to pass, or to make the final push up a narrow hill. After all, it’s always easier to stop and start in a car.
You can’t predict what a car may do, but you can make sure that all the cars around you know what you’re doing. Take up proper space in the road, don’t hobble in the gutter. Point to your turnings, take the proper lane on a roundabout, and smile! Car drivers don’t want to run you over, especially if you’re sticking to the universal rule of the road: don’t be a dick.
Too often I’m stuck driving city streets instead, and I know that ugly neon is the easiest way to spot a cyclist. I’m staggered by the number of people on bikes, in neon, with helmets. It might not be the most stylish look, but it is the smartest. With the promise of fresh air and fast riding, I relish the odd chance to commute by bike rather than car. And when I do, I might even wear a bit of yellow.