Distractions or discovery

Lately I have been more than a little distracted. I think I distract myself actually.

Apart from this blog I haven’t been writing much lately. The reason is that I have been working through the edit of my husband’s book. He and I have worked on it together for quite some time. Initially a short time each week as he was still working full time. Glyn told the stories and I recorded them and typed up the notes. Then we worked together to flesh out the stories adding in colour and depth and making sure each scene was clear and the sentences flowed nicely. Then came the final print out and read through to pick up typos and to change anything that wasn’t working. I am on the home stretch.

Even though I can’t wrap my head around my own writing I still need to express my creativity so I work on craft projects instead. Winter tends to make me feel like knitting. The quiet days with the rain on our new tin roof and the gentle clicking of the needles and the soft feel of the wool in my hands as I sit beside the crackling fire. There’s nothing quite like it to help me get out of my head and into my hands. Knitting or crochet works. It scratches an itch somewhere deep inside my brain. I’ve just made a couple of scarf/shawls with some lovely cotton yarn. 

Knitting always reminds me of my mum. She was a keen knitter and even taught herself to spin. She spun all her own wool. Dad got into natural dyes and came up with some lovely earthy tones. I remember one lovely green dye he made using eucalyptus leaves.  

When I was still living at home we often went for long family drives to far flung country places in country Victoria to visit sheep farms. We drove for hours to find the right fleece. Mum would choose the fleece while it was still on the sheep and then the farmer would shear it for her and we’d take it home in a wool bag. She was a wonderful spinner and she spun all her own wool for many years.

I have many fond memories of trawling through wool shops for hours with mum just for fun. iykyk. One day in the early ’80’s we visited the Ashford shop in Malvern to buy some spinning supplies. It was near my birthday and mum decided I should have my own spinning wheel. It was a lovely gift and I could picture myself making all my own clothes and never needing to buy wool again.

I started teaching myself how to spin from a book mum gave me. She had taught herself using the same book. It was the 80’s and I had a toddler in tow and another one on the way. Juggling babies and spinning wheels was fraught with peril. Too many moving parts and too many curious fingers. I soon gave up and the wheel became a decorative piece of furniture.

When they were older, our children thought I was a little mad having a spinning wheel in the corner of the sitting room. Like I was Maleficent waiting for sleeping beauty to come and prick her finger. I don’t have that sort of spinning wheel but it was a talking point with their friends.  The spinning wheel ended up in the recording studio gathering dust next to the drum kit. I’m not sure what Glyn’s drum students thought. 

Fast forward to 2026. Last week I decided it’s time I either used my spinning wheel or sold it. I’m loathe to part with it because of the connection with my mum. It seems silly to have a spinning wheel and not use it. I looked up a local spinners and weavers group and enrolled in a spinning class that starts in August. Hopefully by Christmas I’ll be proficient enough to make something. 

Mum would have said it was typical ‘Toad of Toad Hall’ behaviour. It’s true. I have always flitted from one creative activity to another. I used to think it was somehow wrong to flit about and not settle on one skill. Then I read that DaVinci was not just an artist. He was interested in painting, sculpture, engineering and even anatomy. Da Vinci was a polymath and I’m not for a moment comparing myself to his brilliance. Rather I identified with his multifaceted interests and I realised it was ok to want to do lots of different things. 

Over the many years I’ve been on this planet I have learned that doing one thing and sticking to it is not who I am. I am curious about all sorts of things. Curiosity leads me down many rabbit holes and I have a go at many different things along the way. Some work and some don’t. Curiosity leads me to discovery and I love that. I would hate to live a predictable mundane existence where I had all the answers to the universe. It would be so boring to know everything about one thing. I much prefer to follow my curiosity wherever it leads me. 

Perhaps you are a person who has specialised in one area. If that’s you then I applaud you. I think it’s amazing. We need difference. If everyone was the same the world would be a very boring place. It’s good that we are all wired up differently.

For now I will keep ploughing through the edit of my husband’s story and continue to cut up pieces of fabric and sew them back together again. I wonder what you do to get out of your head and into your hands. I’d love to hear about it in the comments if you have a moment to reflect.

Thank you for reading and I’ll see you in August. P.S. Has this year flown or what?

Apologies if the photos are a bit dodgy this time. I uploaded them and only some of them worked. If you read this on the website they should be clear.