dropping stitches

[dropped: the second silver-grey and Granny Smith-green sock]

It's a pretty poor show, really, isn't it? A blog that started out as a craft blog not showing any evidence of making for weeks, sometimes months, on end. Disraeli said, 'never apologise, never explain'; I imagine he was talking to politicians (who have been taking him at his word ever since), but as I have some sort of explanation, I might as well go ahead.

When Tom was five he was hospitalised with pneumonia. We'd just moved back to England from Belgium where doctors and paediatricians were accessible and brilliant, but it was very different here where no-one was able diagnose what was wrong with Tom and I was clearly being a fussy mother taking him to the doctor three times in a week. Finally we got to A&E where he was whisked into the emergency room and things began to happen. He was admitted but after a few days it was clear he wasn't getting better and was by then upsettingly thin. At last it was discovered he had a rare pleural empyema and he and I were rushed to Oxford in an ambulance for specialist care. 

Simon or I stayed every night in the hospital with Tom, and I was there most of the days, as well. We moved Phoebe's third birthday without her realising so that it could be when Tom came out, which he eventually did with Twiglet legs and a shockingly prominent rib-cage. We were told not to worry about his chest and that he'd make a full recovery. It took years for me to be calm about the children's illnesses, and I learned then always to rely on my instincts with their health and not be fobbed off by doctors. To look at Tom now you wouldn't think he could have been so ill and so emaciated. He's over 6' 2" and is the only person in the family who is happy to put on weight. 

I'd always thought that long hours spent in hospitals and being present but quiet around poorly children would be ideal opportunities for knitting. So once Tom was better, I looked back at the days I spent just sitting with him by his bed or settee and wondered why I hadn't produced lots of knitting, lovely cables and colourful Fair Isle, little bobble hats and long scarves - yet at the time it didn't even occur to me to knit.

This has all come back to me as I consider why I haven't been knitting or making for a while now. For a start, I've always done things in phases which often last for years. I have had long reading phases, knitting phases, studying phases, gardening phases, quilting phases which sometimes overlap and have always run parallel to working and, later, looking after children. So it's not unusual for me to move away completely from something I love doing to return to it at another time in my life. But this particular dropping of knitting has been due to the same sort of discombobulation I experienced with Tom's illness.

It seems I'm not someone who can knit (or quilt or stitch) when things are topsy-turvy. It turns out I am at my most productive when life is running as normal, when my days and weeks have a familiar rhythm, when my mind is free to roam rather than being caught up in anxieties and concerns. In these circumstances, I don't find knitting comforting and I can't maintain the repetitive actions long enough to finish a project. I was quilting until recently, but even that was set aside as we dealt with Simon's brother's final illness, his move to a hospice in January, his untimely death at the age of 53 from Parkinson's with dementia, and continues to be on hold as I drive up and down to Stockport to see Mum, stay in contact with my brother and sister who live near her, do what I can to help from a distance. 

Mum was diagnosed with lung cancer in January, and shortly after with bowel cancer. Since then she has had two long spells in hospital, a hemicolectomy, a heart attack, and renal failure. She is now at home with - to her disgust - a Zimmer frame and wheelchair (though the grandchildren, including Alice, love both) and we all take one day at a time. 

This explains why I haven't been making much recently. As for an apology, I don't think one is needed from me, although a lot of politicians owe us plenty.