Phil's Boring Blog

MadUp #7: Welcome to the Knitting Circle November 11, 2012

KNITTING. If you’re a knitter, you already know it’s therapeutic. But it’s also great fun, even if, like me, you’re just an observer. So there I sat with my pint of Guinness and a towering burger, watching in wide-eyed fascination as three of my mentalist friends knitted away whilst we chatted about all sorts of things. A wonderfully cute baby boot with a pink ribbon was completed and two beautiful scarves made progress until the light faded and the candles had to come out.

Along the towpath at Paddington

I didn’t do a head count but I think there were about a dozen of us there, in a bar in central London, some were fairly local, others from further afield, all brave enough to venture out and negotiate the mysteries of the latest TFL “improvement” works: has anyone ever actually had a faster or better journey as a result of these “improvements”? I found myself spewed forth from Paddington tube station via a back-entrance that I didn’t know existed, dug out my iPad and spun around in circles for several minutes to reorientate; thence to the towpath alongside Paddington Basin and so to the pub.

I took bronze as third to arrive and we nattered away as others gradually drifted in: the giveaway was the glance to the left at the main entrance, where we normally gather, followed by  a puzzled look around until a *friendly wave* and a smile came from the table at far end, where a copy of the Mental Health Act Manual was installed as a beacon, but without any flashing lights.

Conversation topics ranged from knitting (of course!) through mental health dilemmas such as surviving suicide attempts, treatments, drugs, therapy and food (mustn’t forget cheese!) to outrage at inadequate discharge procedures: all sorts of things that don’t normally get discussed over dinner, and no one batted an eyelid because all of these things are the stuff of life to the assembled company; and the wine flowed freely thanks to — you know who you are!

All in all, one of the most enjoyable afternoons out I’ve had in a while: thank you to she-who-took-the-initiative (you know who you are), to the bar for accommodating us (we all know which one it is) and to everyone who managed to get there; and commiserations to those who for various reasons (mostly health, finance or prior engagements, I believe) couldn’t join us: you were missed, and here’s hoping you can make the next one.

Journey home was a bit of a drag: the aforementioned improvement works meant it took twice as long as it should have to get from Paddington to King’s Cross so I missed one train; the next was cancelled (“no driver”) and the next one was a s-l-o-w train stopping at every piddling little station en route, due to depart from Platform 9 just as the station announcer put out a call for any police in the station to get over to Platform 9 pronto. Boris, old bean, how on earth did you manage to get London Transport running so smoothly during the Olympics — and when are you going to make it work properly again??

Well over an hour wasted faffing about at King’s Cross that I could have spent back at the MadUp, and then I wouldn’t have missed the cookies: yep, missed the train and the cookies. That’s double bad. But would I do it again? You bet; friends and mentalists, I salute you: here’s to next time!

PS: A new knitting supplies shop and workshop should be opening at a garden centre in Solihull in the new year: watch out for details!

PPS: MadUp #7? Maybe. I’ve lost count: it might’ve been MadUp #27; but I like #7