Crocheted Sun Hat

Yarn: King Cole CottonSoft Baby Crush

Composition: 100% Cotton

Colour: Aquas

Pattern: my own design 

Hook: 4.5mm

Amount used:  100g

Started: 31st May 2023

Finished: 3rd June 2023

In the past, I've tried making crocheted hats, and they've always been too, too big. But this time, I've nailed it. I'm so impressed with my new hat.

It started out with a magic loop, with 12 half treble crochets into it. Then in each round the number of stitches was increased by 6. This grows the circles,in a bowl shape.

I measured my head, and then put the circumference of the crocheted disc. When the crochet was about 2cm smaller than my head I stopped increasing. This formed the sides of the hat.  When it reached the tops of my ears, increases started again. This time it was eight per round.

The increases stopped when the brim was wide enough. Then I crocheted 2 round without any increases. Narrow plastic boning was placed on the edge. It was sandwiched between the last two rounds, and sewn into place. 

A 15cm overlap was given to help the with the shape of the brim. This hold out the brim most beautifully. 

Maths Is Too Hard!

The shout seems to go out each year, 'Maths is too hard. We can't solve this impossible puzzle." It has happened again this year over the final question in the Edexcel GCSE Maths paper.

The puzzle is to work out the shaded area, given there are 8 regular octagon, with side length 1, arrange as in the image above.

The first step is to recognise the points of the shaded shape are all 90 degrees. This is because the internal angles in a regular octagon are all 135 degree. When two octagons are placed side by side, the external angle is 90 degrees.

The second step is to realise the shaded shape can be made up of a large square and four small triangles

The third is calculating the sides of the squares and triangles. The triangles are easy. The sides adjacent to the right angle are both 1 unit long. This means if we stick two of these triangles together, then the combined area is 1 unit sq. To get the area for the four triangles we double it to get 2 units sq.

The sides of the large square are 1 unit plus the hypotenuse of the small triangle, plus 1 unit. The hypotenuse a is found by using the Pythagorean formula a² =b² + c². This gives a² = 1x1 +1x1, and a as the square root of 2.

The length of the large square is 2 + √2. The area of the square is this (2 + √2)². The total area is (2 + √2)² + 2. Working out the square gives 8 + 4√2.

It was a lovely little puzzle, and it took me far more time to work out how to use HTML to write the expressions than to solve the problem.

Lady, I Don't Know You!

Way, way back in the 1960s, my Mam was a teacher in a secondary school (12-18 year olds). She taught sewing and cookery. At that time, these were subjects only for the girls. Boys took woodwork and metalwork. Mam knew names of all of the girls in the school, but hardly knew any of the boys.

Near the end of the school year, there was a trip out to a historic castle, and Mam was one of the teachers who was asked to accompany the students. As they were 15 and 16 year old they were allowed to wander into the town after viewing the castle, on the understanding they would be back at the rendezvous point at 3pm. 

At 3.10, my Mam went searching for missing students, and found three youngsters hanging around, laughing and giggling. The serious teacher-face appeared, and Mam berated Sarah and Jeannie for their tardiness, and told them to get on the  bus back to school right away. 

She turned to the young man, and said, 'Put your cigarette out, and get right on that bus, now!'  He gave her a puzzled look and started to walk away. My Mam caught his arm, "Bus! Now!" The guy looked at her again, and calmly replied, "Look lady, I don't know you, and I left school two years ago. I'm not going back to school for anybody."  It was at that point my Mam realised she might have made a little mistake, apologised and ran for the bus.

Crocheted Bag

I was on a high after the crocheted jacket and hat. I assumed I knew what I was doing, and could make anything my heart desired. And this has not happened. At 98% complete, I realised I did not like the bag at all, as in I hated it.

So, instead of completing this bag - just 6 more rounds of crochet, the plug has been pulled, and also the yarn. It's time to unravel and redesign. It's time to make the bag I actually want, that I will use. 

Reconbobulation

Milwaukee's General Mitchell International Airport has a Recombobulation Area immediately after the Security Section. After being discombobulated during the security checks, you now have a place to pause for a moment, gather your belonging, re-arrange clothing etc, and basically set yourself to rights again.

It's such a great word, and such a great idea to have a place where people can stop being discombobulate and return to their normal state. There needs to be more places where people can become reconbobulated.

Daisies, Aquilegia and Foxglove

My front garden is a riot of pinks, purples, and blue, with the occasional tall white daisies too. Last year I sowed the seeds of wildflowers, and there was very little to see. The aquilegia seemed to dominate.

However, this year as well as the aquilegia there is foxgloves, and large daisies. Unfortunately, there's also some nettles. And this is where I am swithering. Nettles are not a good plant for a traditional garden, but they help the wildlife so much, and are great soil improvers.

In pots, there's ceanothus and lavender. It's a beautiful wash of soft colours. 

Once the summer is over, we'll put in some autumn pansies and also some spring bulbs. I'm going for whites and yellows - snowdrops, tulips and daffodils.  

The garden this year seeded itself, and I'm hoping it will continue to do so. The bulbs should come up time and time again. There should just be a little spring and autumn tidy required.

Half Way There!

And the half way mark has been reached. I've proved to myself I can do it.

However, now I'm at the tricky stage. I've shown to myself I can do it. There' nothing to prove, but only half of the challenge is still ahead. This is the dangerous time. This is the point when interest wains, when the challenge is a little stale, and dopamine is in short supply. This is the danger zone.

Will I be able to keep going? Will it devolve into sheer will power? Will there still be enjoyment, or will it simply be a slog?

Who knows?!  Let's find out together. 

A Little More Mg?

Magnesium is wonderful. Magnesium is great. However, it can result in a dire rear, and I have been living with this for months. I decided to try to reduce the amount of magnesium I take. 

For one week, I reduced the amount by an eighth. That seemed to be working, and so I dropped another eighth, and that's when the problems started. First it was not being able to sleep for longer than around two hours at a time. Next was the build up of a headache at the base of the brain stem. This was followed by muscle cramps, and lastly a full blown migraine. 

When I realised what was happening, I bumped up the dose again. Last night I slept for 7 hours in row, and even managed to have little snooze again afterward. Today I'm feeling like me for the for the first time in a while.  It's rather brilliant.

A thinking brain, being able to sleep, and being pain free definitely is more important to me than having a dire rear.

The Cat House

My friend, Cat, had to go to the UK for a few days, and asked if I could feed her cats. It's not a problem as we are neighbours.

Yesterday evening, after work, I entered the Cat House. A penta-clowder of cats monitored my arrival, and interrogated me as to where the Usual Human was. I explained I had been designated Replacement Human, and was here to feed them and let them out. This was deemed to be a satisfactory answer, but could I please get here a bit earlier and not keep them waiting in future.

The black cats, Susu, Owen and Monty were fed first, then Flame and Jinks. By the time Jink's food was placed down, Susu had finished hers and was trying to muscle in on Owen's. Poor Owen has been having a hard time with his health, and Replacement Human wanted to make sure he could have all of his dinner. A hand was placed between Susu and Owen's food. Susu was not impressed and tried to dodge around it a few times. 

After finding Replacement Human's hand particularly troublesome she tried to encroach on Monty's meal. Turns out Replacement Human has TWO HANDS!  This news was not well received and Susu made her way along to the next cat in line. Flame was rather vocal, and Susu decided it would be easier to deal with Owen, Monty and the two handed Replacement Human.

Jinks watched all of this aloofly. 

Then four of the five were allowed out to play. Jinks was not impressed that he was excluded. This is because Jinks is a big bully. He regularly beats up a local cat. A timeshare agreement for the outside has been entered into by the humans. The poor bullied cat is allowed up until 10pm, and Jinks is allowed out after 11pm.

This evening after dinner, Jinks demanded out. When this fell on uncaring ears, his demands became pitiful, and then it sounded like he was trying to talk. The message was, "I'm a big boy. I'm allowed to go out to play.  It's not fair the others can go out, but I can't." It was followed by, "The Usual Human is better. She and I go for evening walks. She loves me."

----

Update: Susu did not arrive back for breakfast, nor dinner for the following two days. Thankfully after Cat returned home so did Susu. She was ravenously hungry, and was allowed to eat her fill.

TT Races

Practise Week is well underway for this year's TT Race. The weather has been glorious! Absolutely glorious. Next week, Race Week, is also looking good.

The weather isn't always quite so lovely. A few years back, I was near the Grandstand in Douglas, and heard an announcement the race had to be stopped due to the weather. It was glorious in Douglas, and the crowds started booing. A few moments later, there was a second announcement, the race had been stopped due to a short hailstorm in Kirk Michael, but racing would continue after the roads had been swept clear of the hail. There was a stunned silence from the crowd.

Do You Remember That Sewing Class?!

A little video popped up, "Do you remember that seventh grade sewing class where they taught you how to do things that you would never ever need to know how to do?"

Yes, I remember sewing classes in school, and yes, I remember them being desperately unhelpful. However, I was approaching it from the other side. I wanted to learn more, I wanted to do more, and the word 'more' is very important.

My Mam was a needlework teacher, and I arrived in class already knowing quite a lot from the things my Mam and I had made at home. We had taken the time to choose a pattern, fabric, thread and buttons for the skirt I wanted to make. It was a simple design, but it was a style I liked and wanted to wear.

It soon became obvious the teacher was going to make the garment construction last at least a full half term. I wanted to wear my new skirt tomorrow! 

After two weeks of virtually no progress, I took the skirt home and finished it there. For week three, I wore the skirt to class, and took in a new part-finished skirt, and worked on it in class. The teacher did not notice. So, for week four, I wore the skirt from week three, and started a new skirt, but chose a radically different colour and style. In week five, we were told our work would be graded the following week, and we needed to have it finished by then.

Dutifully, in week six, I wore one of the skirts, and brought in the two others I'd made in class. The teacher was not impressed when two skirts were on the table, and was even less impressed when I said there was also the skirt I was wearing. She examined the red skirt and said it was 'Wrong'. I asked for clarification. Apparently the pattern didn't have pockets and my skirt did, therefore it was 'wrong'.

I tried to explain that my Mam was a needlework teacher, and I'd been sewing since I was four. I was used to making the garments I wanted, rather than just following the pattern. One of the girls said, "Is your Mam Mrs Johnston?  She was my teacher last year! She's really nice." Turns out only 2 girls in the class had not been taught by my Mam at some point. 

The teacher decided to increase my grade, which was rather nice, but she killed my love of sewing for a good few years.

Fletcher's Fearless Clothing

One of the things I notice when visiting the UK is the number of ‘ghost signs’ to be seen They are  vintage advertising signs preserved on buildings, often painted straight on to the brickwork. Although there are some excellent examples where the former owner's name has been picked out in mosaic, or in tiles.

'Fletcher's Fearless Clothing' is an interesting one. What makes clothing fearless? And was it actually made by real life fletchers? In my mind's eye, I can see a fletcher decked in Lincoln Green, standing in the middle of Sherwood Forest. Gathered all around are the Merry Men. Right at the centre of the group is the fletcher, and he is declaiming the outstanding features of his clothing. It had been made by his mammy, made with love, and prayers for his safety. This rendered the clothing semi-sentient, and the clothing proclaimed itself to be fearless.

And Done!

The CottonSoft Baby Crush cardigan is done!

Oooh, it feels good to have finished another project, and a huge project for me!

Done, done, done, done, done! And in only two and a half weeks!

Laughter

A study was conducted on laughter. Jennifer Aaker, a behavioral-science professor at Stanford, and Naomi Bagdonas, a leadership coach, examined how often people laugh. They found out the average 4-year-old laughs as many as 300 times a day. This compares with the average 40-year-old will take up to 75 days to reach as many laughs.  There is a sharp decline at around 23. People stop laughing.

In a poll by Gallup in 2014, 1.4 million people self reported how much they laughed in the previous day. This poll showed the same sort of results. When people become adults, the laughter in their life decreases.

This has led the Beloved and I to realised we're laughter weirdos. We are statistical outliers, and we laugh 'too much', or rather we laugh just the right amount, and other people of our age need way more playfulness and laughter in their lives.  

We make each other laugh each day. We don't often deliberately set out to cause laughter, but we revel in those laughs. We love making each other happy. 

Self-sabotage

"Self-sabotage is when we say we want something and then go about making sure it doesn't happen."

Yup, that sounds about right. I was getting really excited about the crocheted jacket I'm making. The two halves have been joined, and I'm now about 85% done. It should be perfectly possible to finish it this bank holiday weekend.

So, why have spent hours watching silly videos on facebook instead of finishing it? Self-sabotage, and perfectionism. If I don't finish it, then I still have the chance to improve on it, and make it perfect. If I finish it, that's it done, and it is what it is (and everyone will be able to see 'how badly' I made it). But if I don't finish, then it's just another partially completed project, another failure.

Perhaps it's time to get on with it, and finish this jacket. This jacket I was so excited to try on this morning. I want this jacket. I've put in hours of work. I want to wear it. Yes! Let's stomp on the perfectionism and self-sabotage. I can do this, and I can do it well!

Treacle Mine Road

Treacle Mines have a certain history in England. One possible origin of the joke is from 1853 when the British Army was encamped on Chobham Common. in Surrey. The story goes the Army was being shipped out to fight in the Crimean War.

When the camp was being dismantled, some of the heavy barrels of goods were buried on site to avoid having to move them. Some of the barrels contained treacle and Chobham villagers who discovered and removed them were called "treacle miners" as a joke.

In 2002, the town of Wincanton twinned with the fictional town of Ankh Morpork. A few years later when a new area of town was being built, the developer asked Pterry to come up with a shortlist of street names that might be used. Pterry provided 14 suggestions, and the people of Wincanton chose 'Treacle Mine Road' and "Peach Pie Street". 

This proved to be very popular, and now there's 'Hen and Chickens Field', 'Moon Pond Lane' and 'Morpork Street'. 

The Glorious 25th

Sir Terry Pratchett wrote interesting and entertaining books; there's no doubt of that. But whilst PTerry was writing about the Discworld, he was also providing social commentary on this Roundworld.

“You'd like Freedom, Truth, and Justice, wouldn't you, Comrade Sergeant?' said Reg encouragingly.

'I'd like a hard-boiled egg,' said Vimes, shaking the match out.

There was some nervous laughter, but Reg looked offended.

'In the circumstances, Sergeant, I think we should set our sights a little higher--'

'Well, yes, we could,' said Vimes, coming down the steps. He glanced at the sheets of papers in front of Reg. The man cared. He really did. And he was serious. He really was. 'But...well, Reg, tomorrow the sun will come up again, and I'm pretty sure that whatever happens we won't have found Freedom, and there won't be a whole lot of Justice, and I'm damn sure we won't have found Truth. But it's just possible that I might get a hard-boiled egg.”

Lofty ideas are things to aim for, but a hard boiled egg can be grasped. 

In the Ankh Morpork, on the Discworld, corruption was rife, and the people were revolting. The government sent in the soldiers. Barricades were erected in Treacle Mine Road to keep the soldiers out. Gradually, more and more of the city was behind the barricades. People started thinking about their demands. Of the demands presented, 'a hard boiled egg' was the most achievable.

In PTerry's world, when the fighting broke out between the government forces & the government controlled sections of the City Watch, and the People's Republic of Treacle Mine Road, there was a need to be able to tell who was on which side. The lilacs were in bloom, and the Treacle Mines adorned their helmets, hats and clothing with a sprig of lilac. (Rather reminiscent of the story that the Welsh wore leeks in their hats/helmets when fighting against the Saxons. The Welsh and Saxons wore very similar armour at the time. And it's always good to know who is your friend on a battlefield.)

The Glorious 25th was the day the people triumphed over the government. The 26th was the day everything was more or less back to normal. There was no addition freedoms, no extra truth, justice was for those who could pay for it. But, there was a hard boiled egg.

Sweet and Sour Sauce

Ingredients

1 tbsp vegetable oil

1 large onion - peeled and chopped into large chunks

2 cloves of garlic - peeled and chopped/crushed

1 tsp minced ginger

150ml tomato ketchup

2 tbsp malt vinegar

6 tbsp dark brown muscovado sugar

canned of pineapple chunks in juice

Method

Add the oil to a large frying pan/skillet, heat it up on a medium-to-high heat and add in the onions. Cook for 3 minutes, stirring every now and then, until the onions start to go translucent.

Add in the garlic and ginger and cook for another minute. 

Add the tomato ketchup, vinegar, dark brown sugar, and the tinned pineapple (including the juice)and stir. Bring to the boil, and then turn down the heat and let it bubble. Stir every so often until the sauce has thickened.

Serve with the chicken or tofu, and boiled rice.

How to Be a Great Aunt

There are a few ways to become a great aunt. They generally involve having a sibling, or a sibling-in-law who is a grandparent. Many, many people become a  'great aunt'. However, very few achieve this lofty status at the age of 23.

Sarah, my great grandmother, was accomplished at many things. She was a great cook, a fantastic baker. Her hands were never idle, and she knitted, crocheted, and sewed. She also had a talent for making babies. Sarah was married at 18, and had her first baby at 19. 

Annie was the eldest of Sarah's children. She followed a similar pattern to Sarah, she was married at 18 and had her first baby, Charlie at 19. 

My Grandpa was the tenth baby born to Sarah, and was delivered by Annie. (Annie delivered the last three of Sarah's children. Each of these children became uncles and aunts at the moment of their birth. When my Grandpa was born he became uncle to  4 year old Charlie.

Charlie grew up. he met and married Isobel. Likewise, Grandpa also grew up and in due course met a lovely woman, my Grandma. On the day of their married, Charlie kissed the blushing bride, and addressed her as 'Auntie Jean'. She was not impressed. Charlie (five years her senior) took every opportunity to call her 'Auntie Jean'.

Six months later, Isobel was delivered of a bouncing baby boy. Charlie took great delight in introducing David to Jean, saying 'Here is your Great Auntie Jean'.

And this is how my Grandma became a Great Aunt at the ripe old age of 23.

Figgy Socks

And done!

I shall admit it, I was a little worried that when I started the crocheted cardigan these socks would become yet another work in progress. 

To prevent this happening, I decided to do at least one round on knitting on each sock each evening. That was the aim, but I got a bit carried away, and then I realised they were had reached the point for shaping for the toe. The knitting was completed last night, and this morning the toes were grafted closed and the ends woven in.

Done.