Bartimaeus

Last month I had a rush to finish the June chapter of my knitted history book. I was reading on the train and in the hotel on the last day of the month. The author was stretching her skills in each chapter and had spun fleece herself before knitting. I have never attempted spinning wool, nor have I tried the skill of this month's chapter, nålbinding, a craft before knitting, used by the Vikings. I keep meaning to try it. The author was finding it sore on her hands so it wasn't encouraging me. I had however brought a whole cardigan with me to Edinburgh and was close to finishing, having cast off the border and button band while on the boat. Now I only had to sew in ends, add the buttons and, most scarily, the buttonholes. The pattern, Funky Grandpa, had a page of pictures and instructions on "afterthought buttonholes" which involved using two needles to pick up stitches on either side of where the buttonhole would be, then, horror of horrors, cutting a stitch and unravelling the knitting in between before creating an edge with casting off the new live stitches and securing them and the cut ends. I focussed on putting on the buttons and weaving in all the loose ends first, before tackling the buttonhole tutorial.

Shane had been cycling but was told his dynamo operated lights were not working. Normally they are on all the time the wheels are spinning. He set about trying to fix it but was frustrated by the lack of a multimeter, which we have on the boat. He had a feeling he should have another one and might have got one. I reached into the cupboard and picked up  something with wires on it - the very thing, it just was a different colour from the one on Bartimaeus. He was right he had bought one, he just couldn't see it. I thought my bike maintenance contribution was complete, but he now wanted me to hold the meter contacts against wires while he was spinning the wheel. He tested each part of the system. After much head scratching he has ordered a light as he can't find a problem with the wiring or dynamo.

Still he was going on a daytime ride so didn't need the light yet. On a quiet day when Shane was out cycling, I chose a window seat for best light and carefully followed the instructions for making the buttonholes. What a fouter! But amazingly I managed to get them all done. Then I could wash and block it, leaving it pinned out in the boxroom. This has been meant to be a winter project but here I was nearly the end of following July, before it was finished.

In the afternoon I went a walk with my niece, Sandra. We had a turn around Holyrood park, which goes round Arthur's Seat. It was a bit breezy there, so I didn't see many butterflies, just a small white fluttering in the wind. It was more sheltered in the graveyard when we were on our way back. Sandra identified cornfowers that were attracting a few bees buzzing around them.

When I got back, I reseated the pins on the cardigan, moving it to a drier piece of towel, and next day, turning and pinning it opened out so the air could get to other parts. Then I could go off and do something else, like meeting Peter for coffee, and going to a wedding party. 

Lorna and Paul were having a large party back in Edinburgh to celebrate their wedding we had the privilege of attending at the start of the month. Shane had carried the kilt regalia back to Edinburgh but to store it, not wear it. He was opting for a more casual summery look. I was also wearing a more relaxed dress. At the last minute, I decided on little lace up gym shoes rather than the dressier shoes I had brought up with me. I was glad I had because Lorna messaged me as we were on the bus to ask if we could call or demonstrate three Scottish dances. I was happy to do a walk through or demonstrate. It would be good if I wasn't wobbling or slipping out of my shoes if demonstrating to the whole hall. It wouldn't be the first time my shoe had fallen off before an assembled wedding congregation.

We found the hall, arriving at the same time as Sandra's son Dean. Lorna had told everyone to look for balloons. There were a few sets bouncing in the breeze, filled with air and silver discs.

Before the dancing were welcome drinks, lots of chats and laughs with old friends, numerous relatives and I met new people too - an old neighbour of Paul's who was interested in narrow boats for instance. Lorna and Paul both gave moving and amusing welcome speeches. Paul's daughter was there with her three month old baby - he didn't need a glass to drink to their health.

The speeches were followed by delicious food from three local establishments, Greek, pizzas and Cuban that were being delivered. When we had had our fill there was a bride and groom first dance, showing that a grandpa can indeed be funky. I already knew that Lorna is a dab hand (and foot) at twisting, weaving and spinning.

It was time to do the Scottish dances. Shane and I did a brief walk through as the floor filled but there was really no need as many more dancers were wholly familiar with it.

There is plenty fast spinning for the ladies in the gay gordons. I went to get a drink between dances and meanwhile Nye and  Esther (my great niece, Lorna's daughter) had teamed up with Shane for the dashing white sergeant. I got three relaives up for one set of three. Carol Ann joined me and I got a surprised Lewis, my great nephew, on the floor. He was soon picking up the steps, circling, swinging and doing reels of three. 

Last was strip the willow. Shane and I headed the set and I agreed with Esther we should just do the Orcadian version which is easier to follow. The same basic steps of swinging and spinning are required in both.

 When we reached the bottom, we did the customary final spin. Lorna's brother, watching, was making faces as we came out of the spin, but it wasn't until the whole dance was over that we could find out that he was exclaiming that Shane does a ferocious spin. Too true! None of the other dances are quite so tiring or dizzying.

We had a great time! When we got in, I heard a yelp from Nye. There was the most enormous black spider in the middle of the hall. Shane reminded me of the spider catcher (a successful birthday present many years ago) and I  caught it in the filaments. It doesn't hurt the spider but immobilised it until it is released. They must get a brief feeling of what it is like to be stuck in a web, but they don't get tangled or paralysed.

In the morning we were heading back to Edinburgh. Weather-wise it had been dull, but it had been an action packed week of appointments, cycling, walks, coffees, finishing a tricky knit and a fabulous wedding party. As we left the skies had turned blue, very different from our arrival.

Our journey went smoothly and I  finished my July chapter of my book, on the way. We were back soon in Hinckley, where it was warm. When we were driving off in the morning I saw another spinner, but a smaller and much prettier one than the house spider in Edinburgh.