Monday, April 14, 2014

Hand-knit patchwork obsession

A tale of woe, about a toe ....

It's been two weeks of high drama at the Jackson household.

So what does this have to do with my butt? Actually, this is my pre-marriage, pre-pregnancy butt, so hopefully it's not that offensive. It was snapped in the summer of 2011 while I was visiting my hubs-to-be in the UK. I'm crawling up his stairs because I've just dislocated my toe, the same toe that breaks every year or so under the most mundane of circumstances (wiping the bottom of my foot with a paper towel, I kid you not). I haven't broken it in almost two years, since moving to France ... until the wee hours of April 1 (was it a cruel April Fool's joke from the Cosmos?).

Let's just say this: it's not easy caring for a busy baby when you're on your own and can't put your weight on one foot. Thank God a friend got me groceries and took Adam out for a spin.

Adam's (and Mommy's) Big Adventure: on the train to Lyon ....

The drama didn't stop there: A lovely but tiring weekend in Lyon with family visiting from Canada ended with my discovering that the front window of our apartment had been broken by firefighters, who thought our place was on fire in our absence. We came home to a smoke-filled apartment with no evidence of fire - and thankfully, a cat that wasn't dead from smoke-inhalation (good thing I left a back window open). Then Adam had vaccinations, and a few days of fever and fussiness ensued, followed in turn by colds for us both. To top it all off, Hubs has been away a lot.

Adam is back to his old self now, aside from entering Mr. Clingy phase, meaning Mom can't do anything without his hanging on her knees and crying. All in all, Mommy's an exhausted wreck and in no mood to pose for outfit posts with her imaginary camera man.

Good thing I have some other cool stuff to show you! My latest obsession: hand-knit patchwork afghans from the thrift shop. This utterly huge one - big enough to fit on our Super King bed - was my recent find, and 70 percent off to boot (so all in all, a few Euros). It's so heavy it hardly fits in the washing machine!

Pretty, isn't it?

I'm surprised Hubs didn't put up a fuss when I put it on the bed (it's warm here but I'm perpetually cold). He's not very, um, boho-inclined, shall we say.

But it does suit the whimsical, rather charming tone of our apartment in the Old Town. That patch of sunlight, btw, is the one wee slice of sun we get in the apartment - it comes in through the back courtyard between 1-2 p.m. after Daylight Savings begins. It looks like an explosion on the bed - love! (Note to self: never live in a northern-facing apartment with high courtyard walls in the back ever again).

This is the first blanket I found ages ago, a double-sized one I paid full price for (8 Euros). This isn't the best view of it but it's got mauves and blues and teals and is mixed with a bit of mohair too. Again: heavy. But so pretty. At the mo it's reclining on our sofa (read: baby drool protector).

I used to toss it on the floor for Adam to play on when he was just a roll-around baby.

Then I found this mini blanket, in perfect "boy" colours.

Sigh, I'm feeling rather nostalgic for the days when he'd be happy sitting on that blanket playing with his toys. Now I use it to prevent his breaking his head open when he falls backwards from a standing position. Needless to say, there are tiny blankets scattered all about the apartment!

Another small one with red, blue and slightly more girly pink squares and gold flecks. Let the little shmoo explore both sides before the world of gender stereotyping descends on him.

See, he likes it!

So, I'm wondering if there's some obsessive knitter in the Annecy area who keeps donating these blankets to the thrift shop. Believe me, I've seen more there and have had to restrain myself from snapping up every last one. I mean, how many uber-heavy knit patchwork blankets can a girl have?

Am I the only one obsessed with buying multiple units of the same thing at the thrift shop? Over to you ....