Further Adventures in Yarn

Last month I went to the 5th Yarndale festival of all things woolly. If possible, it was better than the earlier years, as the logistics are managed with even more careful planning and the range of stalls on offer grows ever wider.

I felt a bit of a fraud, as I had entirely lost my crafting mojo in the crushing depression of last autumn and winter. I hadn't finished any of the projects I'd begun after last year's purchases, and they lurk in the other room, oppressing me with guilt whenever I see them. If I still had those things to finish, what business did I have shopping for new projects?

However, I hoped a nice wander around amongst the crafty women, surrounded by beautiful things in vivid colours would inspire me. If nothing else it would be a chance for my Very Excellent Mate Rachel to come for a visit.

I needn't have worried. A quiet train ride and chatty bus ride on the Yarndale Express built my excitement, as did the gloriously yarn-bombed show area. I love the bonkers souls who send in bunting, mandalas, flowers, sheep and hearts each year to turn an agricultural building into a Mecca of yarn and bright colours.  I did find my crocheted heart among the display somewhere.

There are so many people wearing their own creations; some are true works of art. Others resemble the output of fevered minds with access to too many colours, but at least they are happy. A sneaky game of "just because you can doesn't mean you should" keeps Rach and I entertained for hours. Crocheted granny square trousers were definitely a sartorial step too far.

I found loads of lovely things and small (ish) projects to try. I've had to crop the photo as there was a Christmas present amongst my purchases, so I can't show you absolutely everything.  I also held back from purchasing the *GREATEST* book of crochet patterns I've ever seen, the Toft book of crocheted people and costumes.  I knew I have no time to do that level of project just yet, but it was so brilliantly laid out I was sorely tempted.

I'm learning Corner to Corner crochet to to use one of the beautiful self-coloured yarns I couldn't resist. This proved to be a bit complicated - being left handed so having to reverse everything when I'm struggling to picture how it goes can sometimes send me into a tailspin, and I had to undo about a third of my work when I realised where I'd first gone wrong, making it bigger and bigger every row. Then I messed up the decreasing bit too much and had to redo another sizeable chunk, with fine yarn that snagged and broke. 

However, I think I've *finally* got a handle on it. The trick for a rectangular scarf is to chain 6 as you start a row from the top of the diagonal row and to slipstitch and chain three when you start a row from the bottom of the diagonal - increase as you go downhill, decrease as you go uphill, like riding a bike.

And here it is, modelled by its discerning owner:

In which people are just lovely

I was in for a cracking weekend.

I'd planned it months ago. Registered for Rugby World Cup tickets, booked my Yarndale ticket, had all my favourite things with some of my VERY favourite people.  Fantastic.

Friday night Dad headed here to avoid the match traffic and Mark bought fancy fish from the lovely fishmongers and cooked us a gorgeous meal. I'd never had halibut before. It's lovely.

Saturday was match day. Mark, Miss B and Luke went to the cinema to see Inside Out (and were treated to popcorn at the Everyman by the rather ace Jessica who works there) while Dad, Zach and I were off to the rugby. Canada vs Italy, and given the crushing defeat in the Canada vs Ireland I was trying prepare Zach for disappointment. I needn't have worried. It was marvellous.

I mean, yes, in the end Italy won but it started with a 10 point lead for Canada and right up to the last 5 minutes it could have gone either way.  Masses of action, great excitement and huge men with beards battling it out mere metres away from us. We were so close to the touch line; any closer and we'd have been in the scrum itself.  I'd had a pig of a job sorting out Zach's ticket after they'd allocated him a seat in another part of the stadium. After 4 1/2 hours on the phone I got him moved to directly behind us, assuming I'd take that seat myself. In the event the lovely blokes next to us swapped so we could all be together.

(Given how loudly I cheered, Zach and Dad might have preferred to have left me sitting a little further away. I do get rather excited.)

That evening I got yet more excited watching a punishing match between England and Wales. I texted my apologies to the next door neighbours after an injury-wracked Wales roared to victory in the final moments. Marvellous stuff.

Sunday was Yarndale. All hail the Yarndale crew for a third event that brought so much happiness to others. It was so organised and well considered that it was a joy to attend. I had every faith it would be.

I had hoped to go with my Very Excellent Mate Rach again, but it didn't quite work out. A mum from the school run had asked to go with me, too, but her work schedule clashed with the event. My neighbour Vanesa had also planned to come with me but had to visit a relative in hospital. That's OK - I had a brilliant time the very first Yarndale when I was on my own, so at 9:30am I set off on my beloved Vespa at half nine for a day of yarn, craft and meeting new people. There was plenty of mist and it was pretty chilly but that would soon burn off and we were promised a glorious sunny day. I love a chance to ride in the sunshine through the gorgeous scenery of this region, and I was confident I could squish my purchases into the storage space on the bike.

At 10:25, a few miles outside of Skipton, it went horrible wrong. My poor Vespa lost power and made some truly appalling noises.  I drifted to a stop at the hard shoulder of the A65 as lorries blasted past me.  My iPhone told me I was 7 minutes from my destination.  It was wrong.  I wouldn't make it to Yarndale until 2pm.

While I was waiting for the breakdown truck and feeling very isolated indeed, people were ace to me.  A bloke in a car on the other side of the carriageway pulled up to say he lived in the next village, so would it help if he fetched me some petrol? Then a guy on a Ducati pulled up. Roger had owned a Vespa ET4 like mine some years back and offered to see if the problem was something he could repair. He had a toolkit on his bike, had a look and a listen.

We agreed our Italian bikes sure had style but that if it was reliability you wanted, Hondas were hard to beat no matter how clunky they looked. Ducati and Vespas were more temperamental beauties. Roger did his best but the fault was beyond his skills. He offered me a lift to Skipton but I needed to stay for the recovery truck.  He reluctantly went on his way, but I was very touched by his help and concern.

The lad driving the recovery truck was called David.  He and the insurance service were thrashing out the details of taking the bike back home for me as it was 25 miles away and my cover had a 20 mile limit. Drat.  Then I remembered Colin Appleyard Motorcycles had a branch nearby.  Before their Leeds branch shut down I'd used them for repairs for 15 years - perhaps they could take the Vespa? Google claimed they were open on Sundays, so I started ringing while David loaded the bike up.

We set off, with me continuing to ring the garage.  In between calls, David told me all about his upcoming holiday to Dubai with his partner, and how much he was looking forward to it. He was so friendly and pleasant he made a tough situation much nicer. However, Google's information was wrong and the garage was all locked up. Oh bugger.

By this time Mark, with Miss B in tow loudly protesting the interruption of her pancake-making activity, arrived at the garage too. He'd brought me a flask of coffee which is one of the many reasons I love him so much. I drank that while David rang his depot to run something past them. Rather than leave me and my bike stranded or drive the 25 miles to Leeds which still wouldn't get the bike to a garage, David offered to take it back with him to the locked depot overnight and drop it off at Appleyard's in the morning.  That meant Mark could take me to Yarndale, the insurance would still cover the distance and the Vespa would be safe and secure until I could get her looked at.

Brilliant!

Mark got me to Yarndale where I had a lovely couple of hours despite feeling knackered by the events so far. Jane from Baa Ram Ewe gave me a big hug when I arrived to help soothe me from my bike upset, and I had a cuppa and a butty before diving into the stalls. I had a go at lacemaking with bobbins like the people I saw on holiday in Bruges - very cool! I met up with exhibitors I knew, chatted to the Yarndale committee, bought everything my mother-in-law requested plus a hank of hand-dyed alpaca wool for myself. I met fellow rugby enthusiast and many, many fellow crochet junkies. I got home by public transport, complete wiped out, and Mark had made me another lovely dinner.

My Vespa is beyond repair, it seems, and I am feeling bereft. But I am also very touched by the friendliness, good nature and kindness shown to me in so many ways by match stewards, fellow fans, motorists, Roger, David and Mark and everyone at Yarndale.
People are just lovely. I'm glad to have met so many of them.

J xx

A brief hiatus

Hello again! I hope your Christmas and New Year were all things splendid and pine-needle-scented and you are facing the return to normal life feeling refreshed and invigorated.

I'm not.

I've not blogged throughout December for 2 reasons.  The first is this -

I wanted to crochet a blanket for Miss B in time for her birthday (which is near Christmas.)  My grandmother could produce amazing works of crochet and embroidery; I wanted to make something of an heirloom for my child to keep with her as she grows up the way I did with Grammy's things.  However, it was a much larger project than any I'd undertaken before.

It took me 3 weeks of crocheting pretty much every spare moment of the day. If I was sitting down there was a hook in my hand and the blanket growing across my lap.  I took it on the bus, to appointments that I knew I'd be waiting for, to cafes and I didn't watch a moment of television while not simultaneously crocheting like a woman possessed.  I certainly had no time for blogging when there were rows to finish.

I am delighted with the result.  So is Miss B who carries it around with her to watch TV snuggled with, and drapes across her bed each night. Many thanks to Lucy of Attic 24 for the pattern and the crochet-along encouragement,

The second reason is much less fun. I've been ill. Not anything serious, just unendingly poorly.  

Mark and the kids had a nasty virus in November - fevers, sore throats and coughing.  The kids had 3 or 4 days off school each, except poor Luke who attended every day because of mock GCSE exams. I caught it on Thursday December 4th - the day I was supposed to be baking for the school fair.

I bailed on the school fair and only made it to the ballet of Lord of the Flies with Luke the next night because I was heavily medicated and Mark kindly drove us to and from Bradford. (He's a top bloke, isn't he?) I spent the weekend and most of the next week in bed. Feverish, achey and weak, I felt very relieved I'd done the Christmas preparation early. Even making mince pies felt exhausting.

I had about a 6 day period of being well during which I slipped away from chores for the day and went to see The Hobbit on my own. It was great, although casting attractive men as dwarves has made me feel a bit funny with each instalment. Richard Armitage and Aidan Turner are too sexy to be dwarves.

Sadly, the few days feeling fine didn't last and the virus reasserted itself. This also happened to Miss B, who missed much of her last week in school.  I was laid low by the 20th, got even worse across Christmas Day and Boxing Day and have continued to be raw of throat and coughing fit to die ever since.  It's been a full month since I first came down with the thing and it's wearing thin I can tell you.

So, no exciting news to report, no new skills to share and not much time for reflection either. 

However, I can share a picture of our tree, complete with the traditional Christmas Lizard inspecting some of the decorations:

And here's the craft bag I made for my niece Cara from old jeans, lined with a sundress B outgrew. I'd give you instructions if I had any - I just sort of made it up.  I filled it with projects and kits for Cara to try. She's very creative.

I hope I'm fighting fit by Friday, when I head off for my annual ballet weekend. It's pretty much my favourite event of the year.

Best wishes to you and yours for a happy and peaceful 2015.

J xx

Festival goer

Massive crowds, long queues for portaloos, a everyone there a massive fan: festivals are as much a fixture of the year as Wimbledon or the Proms. But you can keep for Glastonburys and your Reading festivals; the one for me is Yarndale.

Last year I blogged about the first ever festival of all things woolly and yarn-related in the beautiful Yorkshire town of Skipton. This year, the team of 5 behind the event learnt from last year's successes and glitches to stage a show that was bigger, better organised and still remained incredibly friendly and welcoming.

My Very Excellent Mate Rachel and I went to Skipton by train, then caught the courtesy bus to the show grounds. The lovely old Routemaster with its jaunty bunting was a lovely way to travel.   As we pulled up and saw the queues to get in, I felt a little smug about buying tickets in advance so we could just saunter past them all.

Our carriage approaches!

About 100 yards of people queueing

Last year's bunting filled the halls and decorated a cafe area, but the wall of crocheted mandalas sent in by over 1100 fans of the Attic 24 blog was the eye-catching exhibit this year. They were fantastic. I wish I could have shown you them all but my photo of them turned out blurry - I guess I was jostled as I took it.  I guess that shouldn't be a surprise to me. For the first 3 hours we didn't so much walk around the displays as get swept along by the tide of people cramming the venue to bursting.

The problems of last year - not enough toilet facilities, nowhere near enough catering, nowhere to sit - were much improved. Lots of portaloos, a new large cafe area and some stall spaces left empty except for chairs so there was a place to sit and eat sandwiches or just rest aching feet. 

Rach said it was crucial we had tea and cake at some point during the day. We passed so many little cafes and tea shops on the bus up to the grounds, but knew they'd be closed by the time we left the festival. Despite her intentions, when we got to the front of the cafe queue in the venue itself it was the locally made pork pies that had her waxing lyrical. It was one of those "didn't know you'd missed them until you had them again" moments - a proper, hand made pork pie with wonderful pastry.

(I'm taking her word for it. I don't eat meat. The custard tart was nice, though)

One of my favourite things about Yarndale is how lovely the people are. A stallholder called Jo taught me how to crochet without needing a foundation chain. That will mean nothing to most of you but to me it means I can tackle loads of projects I'd shied away from because I am RUBBISH at foundation chain crochet. I am very grateful to Jo for taking 5 minutes to show me until I understood how to do it myself.

I bumped into the teacher of my NCT antenatal class from 15 years ago, a woman I took sugar craft courses alongside and a former neighbour.  we hailed each other like long lost mates, all caught up in the friendliness and enthusiasm of the day.

Jo Speckley from the lovely Baa Ram Ewe spent ages with Rachel helping her choose the ideal yarns for a very gorgeous and adventurous scarf. Rach now knows precisely what she wants for Christmas from her family. I love the colours of the Titus yarns nearly as much as I love the names - eccup, chevin, aire...

While Rach shopped, I did a workshop on advanced crochet booked months ago. Finding myself rows and rows behind the others in the the workshop after 10 minutes, I had an urge to scuttle out in embarrassment. I wasn't a complete beginner but perhaps trying 'advanced' was sheer chutzpah on my part.  However,  it wouldn't be in keeping with the spirit of Fearlessly Attempting things to give up. I was clearly the duffer of the bunch but with perseverance I learnt some fab new stitches and feel confident I could do them again. 

What was particularly lovely was the effort and thoughtfulness of the tutor, Maureen, in hand-making each one of us a Work in Progress bag to keep the project in - complete with french seams, beaded drawstring and a little lavender sachet to stop our yarn getting musty. The bags had yarn, patterns and a crochet hook in as well. It was fab of her. 

When we met up again, Rach took me to a stall with knitted knickers as bunting and a fantastic pair of fingerless gloves with 'tattoos' on them. I also loved the shawl/scarf in bright triangles. Fellow Yarndale fans on Facebook tell me it's a pattern called Wingspan. I'd love to try it.

I loved this collection of tiny needle-felted birds that charmed all my kids when they saw the photo. That small lad's hand reaching out to them on the photo was typical - no one could resist touching them.

Actually, that's another striking aspect of the day. It's a tactile overload. The yards were so soft or luxurious or scratchy - we shopped by feel just as much as by eye. Some of the fine carded wool was so soft and snuggly you longed to surround yourself in it and fall asleep - what a cloud would feel like if dreamt by a child. I bought some beautiful and very expensive merino and silk mix yarn in lace weight (that means very fine) as a present for Mark's mum. She wanted to make a shawl and asked me to keep an eye out for something special.  It felt so lovely it almost seems a shame to do anything other than stroke it. I think it will knit up beautifully.

For myself I bought a much cheaper yarn to attempt a crochet pattern I admired and a kit to make a hooked rug Christmas stocking from Hooked By Design. I'd admired the kits she had last year but had run out of money. I was determined to keep enough cash on one side to buy one this year. I also picked up a pleasingly dinky tin of pins from The Stitch Society. Their gorgeous attention to detail in packaging and a shared dislike for cutesy embellishments had Rachel and I hankering after most of their stuff. Some teal merino and silk yarn from the Mrs Moon stall was to die for, but they hadn't got it in stock, only made up in a shawl on their display.

It's a good job Yarndale works on cash only - I spent all I'd brought right down to my last £1. Had I been able to use a credit card we'd have needed a new mortgage to cover it.

Obviously it would be madness to go to Yarndale and not say hi to Lucy from Attic 24. It must be weird to find yourself such a celebrity at the event you've organised. There was a queue to speak to her some of the time.  Every time we passed the Knit and Natter lounge I could see she was surrounded by people. She was friendly, welcoming and interested in people. I expect she'll sleep for a month and be a hermit to recover after such intense socialising. It must be absolutely exhausting.

 Rachel and I stayed at Yarndale to the very end. Then we walked back to Skipton along the Yarn Walk in the evening sunshine, charmed by wild rabbits grazing, a hot air balloon drifting though the trees and a park decked out with bunting, yarn-bombed bikes and lampposts, and brightly crocheted signs.

See you next year, Yarndale!

I've started so I'll finish

I love starting something new.  I like trying things, learning a new skill or craft, messing about with something I've not tried before. It's interesting, it engages me and I get a kick from the novelty of it.

Finishing? Not so much.

There are often awkward last bits to do. Perhaps I needed a different bit of kit, or ran out of the right yarn. I may have found it a bit more tedious or long-winded than I'd hoped and wandered off, bored. Sometimes I put it down when something more pressing demanded my time and I just plain forgot about it. My house has heaps of little part-done projects stuffed into boxes or odd corners.

I decided to make June my Finishing Month.  Rather than start new crafts or hobbies I am going to finish up ones I've already begun.

First up was a little heart shaped rag rug kit I bought at Yarndale. The hessian backing shed a lot and irritated me when I was getting started so i shoved it in a corner and ignored it for months on end.  This last couple of weeks I've finished making the heart and tweaked it a bit. I've trimmed it ready for sewing and will find some fabric this weekend so I can make it into a cushion cover for Miss B's room rather than the little wall hanging it was meant to be. I like it a lot.  The trick was to use an embroidery hoop for the first bit to hold it taut and to ditch the shonky poking stick made from a cut down clothes peg that came with the kit for a crochet hook. That made it all easier and faster.

Next was my little crocheted rabbit. I'd made all the parts bar the second ear, and I had sewn him together back in April. Then I misplaced my hook.  I found it again, finished the ear off a
nd attached it. He's a bit wonky but I love him. Made entirely by me - using a posh version of string and a stick (nice yarn and a crochet hook) I made a proper, can-sit-up-by-itself 3D cuddly toy.  Yay!

My third project is a tapestry kit to make a pincushion with a cockerel on it that I bought to keep me busy on a train journey back in January. I'd forgotten how much I like the quiet repetitive action of doing tapestry.  I thoroughly enjoyed doing it while chatting with people at the new Knit and Natter people at a local cafe.

Next up , the second attempt at a nice sleeve for my lovely MacBook. I know where I went wrong with the first one and am sure the new attempt will work out better.

I'll add the project photos as I get done.

Presents From Nothing - except for a Yarndale purchase

Hello webby world!

I hope you're all well and happy today. I am struggling to feel upbeat in the face of grim, dark skies and a chilling fog. However, I do have a metaphorical ray of sunshine to brighten my morning - I've made a birthday present for Miss B out of stuff we were throwing away.

Yes, I am the zeitgeist-y-est woman imaginable today. Hand made stuff, upcycling, money saving etc etc. The only way I could be more On Trend (hideous phrase) would be if I was wearing a knitted moustache and humming What Does The Fox Say as I type.*

Miss B and I were tackling her overstuffed wardrobe the other weekend, pulling out the things that no longer fit and adding the latest hand me down batch that are the right size for her. Amongst the many items were heaps of T-shirts and long sleeved jersey tops that were a bit grubby, stained or faded. I didn't think they were the sort of thing anyone else would be particularly grateful for. The charity shops at the end of our road have big bins of slightly scruffy T-shirts and baby-grows at 25p each, so it wasn't likely they'd be too interested in the tops either.

I decided to have a go at something I've long fancied doing - making a rag rug.

At Yarndale I'd bought enormous knitting needles, some yarn made from old cotton sheets and a giant crochet hook. I knitted the yarn up into a blue and white bath mat - entirely unnecessary but splendid fun to do.Look at those great broom handles! Aren't they ridiculous?  I don't have a bathroom that has blue in it; the finished product clashes hopelessly. But I did enjoy doing it, despite them being a bit awkward to hold.

 

I thought I could cut up B's T-shirts into continuous strips and crochet them into an oval bedside rug for her room. She loves nice things for her room, so it could be part of her birthday present.

I won't lie to you, it was a labour of love.  The crocheting was fantastically quick and easy, but cutting the shirts up took about 10 hours across 3 days.  By the time I reached the end of the shirt stash my thumb was numb where the scissors pressed in and I had pins and needles in my hand. Mostly I did it in front of the TV of an evening. However, I did spend 2 hours chatting on a park bench with my friend Julie, her holding the T-shirt taut for me as I zipped along it with the scissors. We got some pretty funny looks, I admit.

 I got pretty good at it, almost no wastage at all except for the odd bits of trim or buttons. I cut in a spiral around the body of the T, then zigzagged back and forth to use up the sleeve fabric too. I got a good few metres from each shirt - not bad when you think they were a child's size 6.

As I went along I joined many of the strips together to make gigantic balls of jersey yarn. In retrospect that was a mistake, although their ridiculous oversized appearance did amuse me. I should have kept them separate so I could chose which colour to work in next as the rug progressed. The photo of the partially completed rug below shows the problem.  See that dark purple? It unbalances the rug, doesn't it. I didn't notice so much while I was working on it but once it was on the floor that dark strip really stood out as being out of place.

By that time I'd done another six rows of crochet and had thought the rug complete.  But no, that dark strip bothered me.  I put the rug away for a few days to look at it with fresh eyes.

Yep, still annoying.

So this week I unravelled it back past the purple and changed colours a bit.This was mostly to correct the colours but a tiny bit so I could play with the GIGANTIC crochet hook a little longer. My next project is going to take me weeks and be much harder, so I think I'm trying to extend my easy project a little. Like rearranging your sock drawer when an essay is due, only in gift-making terms.

I can't avoid the tricky project any longer so today I've promised myself I will complete the last couple of rows of the rug and move on.

I'm also baking up a storm today and need to clean the place up before one of my very best mates comes to stay, so finishing off the rug will probably be done in little snatches every time I sit down for a cuppa. I'll show you a picture as soon as it's done. So far I am delighted with it. I hope you'll like it too.

Happy Saturday!
J x

* After typing "What Does The Fox Say" I got the tune stuck in my head. so now I am humming it. Drat.

Getting in at the ground floor

Hello webby mates,

How are you all? Have you had a nice weekend? Did you spend it doing chores, or having fun, or just relaxing? I hope it was full of sunshine and good thoughts.

One of the truly great films that I can watch endlessly is Frank Capra's It's A Wonderful Life. James Stewart is one of the most delightful actors there ever was. I can almost quote the whole film from memory.

There's a bit where George is offered the chance to invest in his friend Sam Wainwright's new business - plastics. "You can get in at the ground floor" is Sam's refrain, but George has more pressing matters to mind - the most heartbreaking and tormented proposals of marriage I've ever seen.

Because of that scene, Sam's telephone chatter of 'Getting in at the ground floor" has snagged in my mind. Although he meant it in a capitalist, money-making way I only associate it with being there at the start of something big.

I took the chance to be there at the start of something big on Saturday. I went to the Yarndale event in Skipton. It was one of the most inspiring things I've seen in a good long time.

The story of its creation is on the Yarndale Blog. In a nutshell, a Skipton Knit and Natter group were chatting about how great it would be to have a yarn festival nearby, and then, over the course of 18 months, they created one.  This weekend, September 28th and 29th, saw the first ever Yarndale festival, and I ran away from my familial responsibilities to spend a day there.

It was HUGE. The roads into Skipton were moving at a slow crawl, the 1000 space car park was full long before noon and the trains were bursting at the seams.  Bright crocheted triangles of bunting covered the route to the Auction Mart, which was heaving. No one could quite believe the sheer number of people.

The entrance lead to an exhibition hall showing knitted picnics and crocheted blankets from all over the place. I'd never seen anything like it. While for me a picnic-you-can-eat is infinitely superior to one made out of wool - especially in a venue unable to cope with the demand for coffees and lunch - the skill and the humour shown in these displays was just astonishingly.

Then it was in to the main hall.  Wow. Over 160 exhibitors dazzled me with different colours, materials and textures. There were crafts I've never hear of, equipment that amazed me, examples of work(wo)manship that dazzled me. Women outnumbered men by about 25 to one. We all chatted, mingled, ooo'd and ahh'd at each other's purchases.  It was so nice to be amongst a huge crowd of warm and friendly people who were so enthusiastic about making things.

I met a woman who wove fabric on a wooden loom to the design of those used by Romans, Tudors and beyond. I'd never quite managed to picture how the threads of the weft stopped getting tangled but after watching for a few seconds it all made perfect sense. Her looms were as beautiful pieces of craftmanship as the fabrics she wove on them.

I saw people who spin yarn, dyed it, people who made astonishingly beautiful items of clothing and lovely works of art. So many were from this region that it gave me a glow of pride that I get to be a Yorkshire-woman too. I also met some of the beautiful originators of  a very soft and beautiful yarn - Alpacas. They had alpacas. Mark is tense, waiting for me to wander home one day soon leading a brace of them to live in the garden.

I will love him and hug him and call him George

The Yarndale celebrity, the lovely Lucy of the fantastic Attic24 blog, was swamped all day by people wanting to meet her, take a photo, tell her how much her blog inspired them to attempt crafts. I was no different - a total groupie.

Happy groupie and tired but friendly Lucy

I didn't buy any yard to knit or crochet with in the end. Instead I bought stuff for crafts I'd never tried before. The first was a little octagon of slitted card - a braid wheel - with a leaflet and a few bits of wool for £1 from the Braid Society (there is an actual Society for braiding. I love this country. So eccentric). My daughter and her cousin are now enthusiastically braiding book marks and friendship bracelets for each other. Brilliant.

My other purchases? Tune in in a few days and I'll show you. I'm having a LOT of fun.

Easy Friendship Bracelets:

Cut a square of card approximately 5 - 8cm (3 - 4 inches) wide. (I used a cereal box) . Cut off the corners to make an octagon. (That's a stop sign, if you are explaining this to a little kid). Cut a slit about 1cm deep in the middle of each side and punch a hole in the centre of the shape.  That's your braid wheel.
Take 7 pieces of yarn/string/ribbon/embroidery thread etc about 20cm long.  Tie them together with a knot and drop the knot through your braid wheel's central hole. Tuck one piece of yarn in each of the slits.
You now have 7 slits holding yarn and one empty one. Count up from the empty slit three threads and move that thread to the empty slit.  Repeat. That's it.

If you are right handed you'll probably count up anti-clockwise from the bottom, and we lefties are more likely to do it clockwise. It doesn't matter at all as long as you stick to whichever way you started. Keep the empty slit facing you at all times so you don't lose track, mix and match colours and textures as much as you like, and perhaps thread little beads onto the yarns occasionally if you fancy.

It's easy, cheap and rather soothing to do. It certainly kept a trio of kids silent for a good while!