Book worm dreams, Grim Reaper wrestling and hatching a woolly Godzilla: Part Two
The final part in my tale of book worm dream and wrestling with the Grim Reaper: We last left me facing off against the Big Casino (my affectionate term for the evil cancer I was battling) with the desire to pick up a pair of knitting needles. (If you missed it read Part One first) The tale continues… Keep calm and carry yarn So while I was letting medical staff fill my veins full of innocuous-looking liquid that burned on the way in and caused me to have to rock the skinhead look, I...
Read MoreBook worm dreams, Grim Reaper wrestling and hatching a woolly Godzilla: Part One
Here’s where the phrase ‘Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.’ echoes loudly through my life.
In the screaming face of all that horror I did what any girl in peril would do. I learned to knit.
Read MoreKnitblast the Fifth: I just purled to say…
There are places in the world where no one likes to be. Hospital is one of those places. Hospital smells of disinfectant, overcooked vegetables and fear that you can’t speak of until you get home and blurt it out over a nice cup of tea and a decent slice of had-a-bad-day cake. St Bartholomew‘s, sitting quietly in London’s Smithfield district, lives in the heart of the City’s square mile, smack bang next to the blood and sawdust of London’s oldest meat market...
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