Clearing out the other cupboard

belonging to our local knitting Guild was interesting. We had to move the cupboard to a shed at the rear of the building we meet in and it seemed to offer an occasion for a clear out.
I doubt we can make more room in the cupboard that serves as "the library". This was the only opportunity to find more space.
I have already, much to the alarm of some members of the group, removed the magazines that are more than ten years old. We put the old ones out on the table - for sale at a mere 50c each. Nobody wanted them although they had complained about not keeping them in the library. I refuse to worry about such things. They left the building and a charity shop welcomed them.
The other cupboard has held the paperwork - Guild Minutes and correspondence which must be kept. Old accounts. We disposed of those not required to be kept by law. The "pattern booklets" the Guild has printed in the past. I long to dispose of those as they are not only out of date but poorly produced but, beloved by some members, they remain there.
There are old knitting needles. I handed those over to someone to sort and (mostly) discard. The sound system which has never worked properly. We can't discard that but it should be fixed. The real problem is not the sound system but the hearing loss among older members and the fact that many people do not know how to speak to a room full of people. 
There were odds and ends used for exhibitions. Yes, useful. I put them back.
Then, crammed in tight on the bottom shelf, was the rest of the "old stuff". For me it was a treasure trove but it has not been touched in years. I did not know it was there. I had, wrongly, assumed, it was the minutes and the newsletters from the past but of course I had found that on the upper shelves.
I opened up a folder...old knitting patterns. I do not mean the sort of thing you might find in the local charity shop. I mean old enough to have some historical value. Some of this dated from the 1920's. It is more than 80 years old.
My enthusiasm for it was not shared. "Nobody will ever knit any of that!" No, perhaps not.
I looked at other folders. There were similar items in them. There was a folder full of material from World War II with items to knit for the armed services.
The garments seem to take very small amounts of yarn. Certainly people were smaller then but the amounts still seem small. Of course the knitting is done with much finer yarn and needles. Look closely at the patterns and you realise that people embarked on projects that took much more time than the modern knitters is usually prepared to give.
"Did people actually knit that stuff?" someone asked me.
"They had to," I explained, "It was much harder to buy things ready made. Most women had to make their own clothes or have them made. You didn't just walk into a shop and buy something cheaply made in China or Bangladesh."
She looked at me in disbelief and said, "They must have had more time."
I don't think it was that at all. They actually had fewer "labour-saving" devices and there were no ready prepared meals of takeaway. Not all women went out to work of course but some did and they still managed to get things done.
I suspect they caught the bus or tram or train to work. They would have knitted then and in the evenings while listening to the radio or reading. Now people drive a car to work and watch television - and only some of us knit.
They didn't want the treasure trove. I am going to offer it to a home where it will be appreciated.

My father and I were saddened

but not surprised to learn of the death of a friend yesterday. We had been expecting it.
She was once the secretary of my mother's school. They became good friends as well as working partners. After my mother died we continued the friendship. We would talk on the phone every couple of months and, at Christmas, we would have "breakfast" together at her local shopping centre. We probably had more in common with each other than she had with my mother. She was a serious craftswoman and a knitter of note. She was a reader. My mother was not really any of those things.
She had her problems. Her husband became a violent alcoholic after a work related injury. She left him and brought up four boys on her own. They all became a credit to her parenting.
 I rang her one evening to find out how she was. What made me do it that day I do not know but, choking back tears, she told me that her third son had been found dead on the kitchen floor that morning. There was nothing sinister about it. He had simply had a heart attack.
And she had a glandular condition which caused her to be massively overweight. Her weight increased as she grew older.  Always beautifully groomed she made her own clothes in an effort to dress with some style. It is difficult to do that when you weigh 148k but she managed.
She was a Justice of the Peace and the secretary of more than one group for many years.
As it grew more and more difficult for her to get about she cut back on some of her activities but not all of them. Getting out was still important to her as was maintaining contact with people.
In her own home though the companionship of her dog was enough. There were a succession of dogs, always the same breed. The dogs were as well behaved as her children. There was something about her which caused dogs and children to behave.
We did not see one another at the shopping centre last Christmas. I knew the journey to the shopping centre would be too much for her. I made the journey to her home instead and took our "breakfast" with me. The table was neatly set - the way it always was. The dog was sitting patiently waiting to shake my paw. She put the kettle on and made the tea and we talked and talked.
It was the last time I saw her. We did chat after that. I am going to miss the phone calls - and eating "breakfast" with her.

Does the rest of the world

argue the way we do in Australia?
This weekend we are switching over to the so-called "daylight saving".  Unlike some areas of the northern hemisphere we are not far enough from the equator to really benefit from this but some were convinced it was of benefit to them and pushed for it. It makes assumptions about people's lifestyles and activities which have been largely disproven. People still need to go to work at the same time and, once home, they tend to stay indoors. The latter is particularly true in the heat of summer.  But, we now have daylight saving and we are likely to be stuck with it.
Every year however my state, which is half an hour behind the next state - yes, I did say half an hour - does not take the opportunity to rectify that half hour difference. There has been talk from time to time of moving our time forward "so that it is in line with the eastern states". That would put us even more out of line with the world time zones but business keeps insisting that we should move forward rather than back. It makes all sorts of spurious excuses as to why this is necessary. Of course it is not necessary. It is merely desirable for business. After all, Australia does not - apparently - do business with the rest of the world.
I read the usual letters to the editor about these things and also pondered on the fact that today the last major football match is apparently being held at something called "Football Park". I have never been there. It was built and opened some time in the 70's because - yes, wait for it - an argument between football and cricket officials. Apparently that has been resolved and football will now be returned to its "rightful" place - a venue in the city centre and the hallowed home of cricket. It took a lot of government money for that to happen. I don't understand the politics of it all and I don't want to. It is a waste of money in my view.
We have other arguments here that just cost money, such a two organisations for guide dogs and numerous other small charities for highly specific purposes. Most of them achieve very little but no doubt those who run them feel they are doing some good.
There are duplicate "guilds" too. Some of them have come about because of other arguments. People have disagreed about how things are run, how things are done. It all costs money, more money than it should. Our community is not large enough to have such duplications and waste simply because people argue, a minority want something and get it or people are simply too lazy to organise themselves in accordance with the natural rhythms of nature.
Does the rest of the world argue like this? It might. It just seems more obvious here.

"They'e having a de-stash

sale at the art and craft centre," my informant said with a meaningful look at me. "I am sure you could contribute something. I'll send you a flyer. Just make sure you don't go home with a pile of other people's stuff."
Oh. Right. I pedalled off after being held up and wondered what she meant. De-stash? Get rid of something I didn't need? Mmm. I needed to think about that.
The flyer arrived home before I did. E-mail allows this sort of thing to happen. I ignored it until late in the day. There are, after all, more urgent things in my life.
There are also things I could usefully pass on to other people. Occasionally, if the Whirlwind does not use them, small crafty bits I believe are genuinely useful for someone have found their way to the local charity shop. If people are willing to pay a dollar or two to keep their children occupied in the holidays then this can only be a good thing. The Whirlwind does use a lot of what other people would consider "junk" or "rubbish". She likes to make things. They have to be able to be used. She does not like what she, like me, considers to be "dust collectors". Give her an empty milk container and a few other items and she will have it recycled into a useful seedling container in a trice.
There are some things that neither of us will use though. There is a book on sewing teddy bears. Neither of us sew. The Senior Cat most certainly will not use it. There is a similar book of Beatrix Potter patterns, interesting but we won't sew them. There is some of the "clip art" by the Dover publishing group. My younger sister used some of that at one point for a project she was working on. We don't need those any more.
There are duplicate biscuit cutters. They are new. Do they count as craft items? I suppose they do. Someone might find those useful. There is a pack of twelve HB pencils with floral printing and rubber tips. New. I think my mother was going to put them with something. I won't use them. The Whirlwind has her own ideas about pencils. They have to be good quality pencils. It is one of the few things she fusses over. I think I can be safely rid of the other pencils. There will be other things I am sure.
The group doing the de-stash sale will take a cut of course but perhaps I can add to someone's stash and they can provide a small donation for my friend who runs the centre for children in Africa?
I really must do a little clean out and see what else I can find!

There is a photograph of the Rolling Stones

on the front page of our paper this morning.
I am waiting for the Senior Cat to surface and ask me who they are. I know he will. I also know what he will say when I tell him. It will be, "Aren't they a bit old?"
Now I have to explain here that I have never been into "pop" music.
I was never a Rolling Stones "fan".
I was brought up on a diet of Mozart and music hall (my father) and Mendelsohn, Schumann and Schubert (my mother). There was a little Bach and others thrown in for good measure. As children we did not hear "pop" music being played.
I heard other children talking about people at school and I had a vague idea who Elvis Presley was but, beyond that, the world of popular music was a mystery.  It did not matter either. Where we lived by then the radio reception was so bad that we children were lucky if it was good enough to hear the old "Children's Hour" with the Argonauts. Nobody really listened to the radio apart from the weather forecasts, news and something I think was called "the Country Hour" for farmers. If reception was good enough some rural people listened to "Blue Hills", the long running serial a bit like the UK's "The Archers".
When we moved it was to a dairying district and the farmers played classical music to the cows in the milking shed. Some of the local children knew a little bit about popular music but it did not loom large in their lives. They knew "The Seekers" because our music teacher at school was training the choir to sing one of their songs for the Schools' Music Festival. Our school song book was filled with classic folk songs and campfire favourites - which we sang with much enthusiasm and little musical ability.

Three years later I was sent off to school in the city and was totally bewildered. It was like moving to a foreign country. Everyone around me talked about "groups" I had never heard of - and no, until then I had not even heard of the Beatles. My classmates banded together and hauled me off to see the first Beatles film. It was interesting but I did not really enjoy it - although I was too polite to tell them that.

And yes, I do vaguely remember the Rolling Stones being mentioned but I cannot remember anything about them. They did not make a big impact on my life. I vaguely remember other "pop" things, one about pearl shells, another about a boardwalk and, of course, the (as my mother put it) the House of the Hair-raising Sons. (No, she was not impressed.) And I will forever hear  "Blowing in the Wind" sung in German rather than English because that is the way I first heard it.  Yes, I can remember the likes of Joan Baez (also doing a return trip Downunder) and other more "folk" than "pop" people. I also remember the group the Whirlwind found in her father's collection. Procul Harum cheated and used Bach to their advantage in something called "A whiter shade of pale"....I actually don't mind it. The Whirlwind also liked the Bach when I found it and played it for her.

But, the Rolling Stones? Well, I recognised Mick Jagger before I read the caption. I could actually name him.
Does that count for something of an education in "pop" music? What have I missed out on? Everything?

Our living are is knee deep in

books at present. I was "volunteered" to run the second-hand book stall at the "Grand Bazaar" or fete being held by the Senior Cat's church.
This grand event takes place on the last Saturday of this month but people seems anxious to be rid of their books. I am advised that there are more in the church rectory and in someone's garage. They will, I am told, be moved into the church hall for me so that I can sort and price them.
There will be nothing too fancy about this. I have warned the organisers I do not have time for that. I think I can tell pretty much at a glance whether a book is worth more than what I think could be charged at a church fete. So far however I have not come across any likely looking "first editions signed by the author" type books.
I have been given a great many cook books - most of them in excellent condition. It makes me wonder if they were ever used. Probably not.
My mother collected cook books - and never used them. I have some. I do use them. If I didn't they would go. Cookbooks are something I can discard. They are not, to me, like other reference books. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I rarely cook to an actual recipe.
Then there are some school text books. I doubt anyone will buy those although someone might be interested in "Japanese for busy people"? I don't know. There are some other reference books. Most of them are out of date. Their usage is limited. We may sell some of those however because "home-schooling" parents will often buy such things.
Then there are piles of hard-cover novels. The Senior Cat prowled through these when they arrived. I told him to look for first editions and signed by the author books. There weren't any. Some of these are in excellent condition. They have their dustcovers. I doubt some of them have been read. Someone may buy them. Will they find a home in a designer bookshelf?
And then there are the piles of paper-back books. Some are in excellent condition - and likely to remain so. They are, all too often, award winning novels that have, I suspect, been given as gifts. The inscriptions read that way. I suspect the recipients looked at the first few pages and got no further. I will not bother to cut the uncut pages.
And then there are the tatty paper backs. There are the books that have obviously "done the rounds" already. Most of them are "crime novels" by authors whose names are instantly recognisable. I don't doubt for a moment that they will sell. People will buy them at a very low price. They will read them on holiday and then leave them at the nearest charity shop. I suppose that is something to be grateful for.
I really do hesitate over the buying and selling of second-hand books - but only because the author does not get another tiny royalty from someone else's reading pleasure. I hope they do get some pleasure from the thought that they are contributing to charity.
In the meantime I need to prowl cautiously through those knee deep piles and try not to feel too guilty. Forgive me please writers?

Why would anyone provide

"chiropractic care" to a baby just a few hours old?
When I had that violent headache on Saturday my physiotherapist sister came around and provided me with some additional (and much needed) pain relief. She also, painfully, massaged my tight shoulder and neck muscles. It helped. It was not a cure but it helped.
My sister does not however do much "hands on" work any more. She has never done much. It is not her way of doing things. She believes that the best thing she can do is to teach people how to handle and treat their own problems. She can do this because she also trained as a physical education teacher. The two things combined made her particularly good at her job - and I do not say that merely because she is my sister.
I have not seen her since Saturday and she may not be aware of the report in the press about a chiropractor who provided "care" for a very young infant and, allegedly, broke a vertebrae in the baby's neck.  When she does hear about it I imagine that she will have something to say. I also know what she will say.  She would not handle a baby a few hours or even days old.
I admit I am highly sceptical about "chiropractic" and a lot of other therapies, even my sister's physiotherapy. I don't believe in homeopathy although I know there are people who are firmly convinced by it. I don't believe in things like iridology either but I know people who do believe in it.
Herbal medicines? Yes, I believe there are some things that help. Tibetans have been using such things for thousands of years, so have Andean Indians and others. I have no doubt at all they have found natural remedies for conditions. Indeed some of their remedies form the basis for prescriptions supplied by pharmacists.
But all these things are a far cry from "manipulating" the spine of a baby. Why on earth would anyone want to do it? It makes no sense to me. Why would a parent allow it, especially when there is no apparent reason to do it?
We had neighbours some years ago who were firm believers in the use of chiropractic. They took their four year old son to one on a regular basis in the belief that it helped his "behaviour problems". Why they believed this I do not know and how manipulating his spine should help his behaviour I do not know either. He certainly did not enjoy the experience.
If adults can make an informed decision about treatment then it is up to them to accept or reject it. Babies and young children don't have that choice.
I know, and my sister knows,  I could go up to our local shopping
centre this morning and visit the girl who does the "Chinese massage" there. I did go once before when I had a similar problem and my sister was away. She did much the same thing as my sister with much the same results. She told me much the same thing as my sister told me. It wasn't a cure but it helped.
I know there are people who would probably say that even this was "all in your mind". Perhaps it is - or perhaps it isn't.
What I am quite sure of is that the girl who does the Chinese massage would not handle a baby either. The idea would terrify her and my sister as much as it terrifies me.