More light.

Goethe’s final words were, reportedly, “More light.” During the coldest week we’ve had all winter the sun has given us just that. More light. Old Sol has been occupying that particular angle in the sky that turns the sea into a gilt mirror at the end of the valley; that illuminates the beauty of west Wales like nothing else. Except possibly the light on the other side of the calendar, between the autumnal equinox and the winter solstice.

The business end of the Cast On business has been, to my great annoyance, annoyingly all-absorbing this week and I haven’t really had much time to admire the light. What with the Grand Tour of North America taking shape, P3 2012 plans being hatched, and an arts grant application to complete, I haven’t had so much as a minute to consider the content of this week’s Cast On. Most annoying of all is the shocking lack of knitting happening around here lately, brilliant light not withstanding. With the the exception of one (ONE!) fingerless mitt, nothing of note has been cast on at all in the last seven days. And I can’t even show you the one thing, much less talk about it, because it’s a gift.

I suppose it’s the lack of knitting that is really the crux of the issue. Cast On is, after all, a podcast about knitting, and there is no knitting, quite literally, to speak of today.

Also, there is this:

Yes, that is actual sun, streaming into my living room through the south-facing sliding doors. And those are the animals I am responsible for, soaking up every last ray of it. The view from that room is spectacular today. No matter that it’s a balmy -2C out there, inside the weather is positively sub-tropical.

The thing is, my office is at the north end of the house. The cold, dark, damp, north end of the house. And today it looks like this.

You cannot imagine how much this grieves me. Not that I’m embarrassed by a crafty mess. Not at all, I assure you. It’s just that I can only tolerate this level of craft-induced chaos when I’m actively involved in it. Today, this is no room to podcast in.

My office/studio/craft room/guest room looks like this because I’ve been sewing. A few weeks ago Tonia scored a really great Ercol chair and matching footstool. Unfortunately the cushions looked like this:

Yes, that mangy fringe stuff was stitched into all the seams, sort of like piping. Who decided that was a good look?

Well. We could not live with THAT. Obviously. So I got out the machines and pulled some natural Irish linen from stash, and now the chair and footstool look like this:

Yes. Much better. And SO COMFY. I never want to leave this chair. Even if it means sharing it with one or another or both of my fur babies.

Given a choice of rooms, the glorious winter light, the new book about watercolour that arrived yesterday, the number of delicious knitting projects that could all be cast on today, the new chair, and these guys…

I’m sure you’d make exactly the same choice I have, and you’d do it without apology. Sometimes you just need more light.