Knitted in Fyberspates alpaca sock yarn from the sock club (and old 4ply wool I had hanging around in my stash for the fairisle pattern). I used 'Diamonds in the Rough' top down Cabin Fever pattern.
top picture is me holding my Norwegian Elkhound puppy, Ianto - and a young friend Amy - where is she now I wonder?
bottom picture is a headless me ?dancing around the sitting room in the house in Burlington, Wisconsin, USA.
"Chris saw them coming through the window, and with unaccustomed agility, darted downstairs and disguised himself as a pile of dirty laundry. "Ah, shit, it's the pigs. Look - I'm not here, you don't know me and..." The door to the basement had slammed and the muffled message hung in the air. I answered the door with a confidence born of the fact that I knew the two policemen hadn't come to take ME away. In fact they HAD come to take me away.
They looked mildly embarrassed as they took in the 17 year old, flat chested, skinny, psychedelic furry freak that I was: "You Teresa Evans?".
"Eh, yep" I nodded and stood on the doorstep glumly holding on to the mesh screen door as support, more than to keep it from swinging shut.
"Ugh, we have instructions to take you to the Juvenile Detention Centre, you gotta come with us"... one of the two waved an official looking typed sheet of paper in my face.
I chose not to argue, even question the summons but went along with them with the same resigned acceptance that characterised the rest of my life. I felt outside, a mere passive observer of queer goingson.
"Mind if I fetch a book?", I slid away before they answered.
One of the two - the squatter spotty one - looked suspicious, but the taller, clean shaven guy waved at me as an OK.
I envisaged long periods sat in waiting rooms like at the dentist's and a good escapist novel seemed the thing. Never mind clothes, clean underwear - how long? who knew?
I was accompanied by the two armed policement to their squad car, feeling red, hot, shy and self-conscious. I feigned an air of unconcern, but I was scared shitless, floundering in unknown waters.
In the squad car, they argued, like the archetypal good cop/bad cop. The suspicious guy thought I might make a run for it at the very least, or at worst run amok with an axe (that's what these pot smokers do, right?). The other guy shrugged his shoulders, seemed more laid back, was driving. He gave me encouraging smiles through the protective mesh - tuned into a decent FM station. His partner promptly turned the radio off and locked both back doors automatically. "Jeez, Mac - whaddya think she's gonna do?".
I didn't know. Had I any rights? Why was I here? I looked out of the window and saw we were headed for Milwaukee. I was adrift, flotsam and jetsam.
What was identified as Milwaukee Police Department was an enormous building, knifing up into the sky at least 20 stories. We whisked to the very top in an elevator (that's a lift, to you and I). The doors opened on to a dingy bare room with a scuffed linoleum floor, tainted by no natural light. This space was L shaped and around the corner was a sturdy table surrounded by vinyl backed chairs: I was told why I was there by an official looking person - the authorities had been informed by our neighbour, Mrs Kramer, that I was a juvenile living without adult supervision and I had been taken into custody for my own safety. My mother had returned to the UK several months before, ostensibly for a 'holiday' and just never came back, leaving me and my younger sister with our incompetent, inadequate stepfather (a man named Wally who was - a complete Wally). This stepfather had had a heart attack recently (unsurprisingly: he lived on ice-cream and sweets) and had gone to friends in Arizona to recuperate, leaving us alone in the Burlington house.
I was taken through several other locked doors and put in a cell with two beds in it. The other bed was already occupied by a 15 year old plump girl who I later found out was pregnant. And she hadn't told anyone!"
And that's where that bit of memoir finished. I wrote it when I (briefly) belonged to a women's writing group with some friends in London - around 1986-7.
Here is my 'NAMELIAN' - she's a member of the Wolflutterby genus and the sun shines down on her. This bit of fun was courtesy of Jo and I thank her very much... In turn, she got the idea from Steve where you'll find the destructions for YOUR name. But, in case you can't be bothered to follow the link:-
To create a namelien you:
a. fold a piece of paper in half
b. open your paper up
c. turn your paper so the fold is horizontal
d. write your name in cursive, "real big" on the fold line (a thick-tipped, dark-colored marker, crayon, or pencil works best)
e. keep your paper where it is, fold it up again, and trace the name you wrote (a thin sheet, a lightbox, or holding the paper against a window with good light can help make the tracing easier, if needed)
f. open your paper again
g. trace over your name again (write on the original, front side), this time you'll be writing it backwards
h. turn your paper so that the fold line in the middle is now vertical--choose which way is rightside up (you will now see an interesting, symmetrical design created from your name)
i. have fun adding things (we make ours totally symmetrical)--such as eyes, arms, legs, antennae, wings, hands, claws, feet, hair, patterns, textures, colors, etc.
j. create a nonsymmetrical background/environment for your namelien (optional)
There is just so much fun out there on the internet!
(comment from DH: "Are you on drugs???")
The weather is mild and the big melt on the way – but the snow is still a foot deep. It is lovely snow – soft, pretty, cohesive, good to make snow balls, snow women and even to eat (pistachio flavoured).
Skirrid Fawr, as seen from the Bunkhouse on Sunday morning, when it can be seen that the snow is disappearing rapidly :-( (Saturday it was shrouded in mist). We walked across and up the right side(south) and down the left (north slope)- the hill runs roughly on a north south axis - see map below).
We’ve parked up at the pub just in case we can’t get up the driveway (Pantygelli and the Crown pub is to the West of Pentre Farm, the other side of the railwayline you can just see up in the left hand corner of the map). 
We immediately start off by going the wrong way – the farmer points out the correct gateway and we trudge down a lane and climb over a stile into a field full of sheep. 
There are lots of snow balls whizzing around to begin with. Most emanating from Jude. 
But these start to lessen off as the effort of trudging through relatively deep snow takes its toll – it’s like walking on a shingly beach and just as tiring. From the fields we cross over a railway bridge and then reach the main road. We cross over this and wonder on past farms. 
Richard has some r and r!
than a path we finally come out on a road from where we reach the foot of Skirrid Fawr. 
K has to eat at this point ( she being 'fair clemt wit' 'unger'!) - the rest of us decide to wait to eat until we reach the top – shrouded in mist. The way to the top of Skirrid Fawr is well trodden and we pass several dog walkers and a couple of families. 
The weather deteriorates as we ascend – until we can only just see each other in a white out gloom like an untuned TV screen.
K is finding the going hard as her back is now in considerable pain. The Greens and Sally lend her several arms to lean on.
Richard says make sure you can stop - as he thuds into my back! Ian's not got any gloves so I loan him my spare pair - see, I wasn't totally unprepared!
At the bottom we find our way into some woods and sit amongst the dripping trees for sarnies and mulled wine (Richard's recipe: heat up red wine, orange juice, cranberry juice: mmm).
to come out into a farmyard. K is seized up by this time so she and Jude knock at the Farm door to ask for shelter while the rest of make it back to the bunkhouse in quick time just as its getting dark. Chris goes with Sally back to get the refugees who have been treated right royally with tea and a warm fire. We are completely soaked through and a massive drying operation gets underway. Only criticism: luke warm showers - but there were hot baths in the cottage. 
sunday morning is glorious sunshine (and it's raining in Devon teehee).
A
nd ferry glide across to the far bank. Warm up time. The river flows fast and we soon get to the top of Mill Falls 
– Chris gets out to reccy while we wait in an eddy at the top – It’s mostly washed out (you can normally see lots of rocks!) and it’s a straightforward bounce down standing waves on river left. River right is to be avoided – not at all nice. 
Check out the expression on my face. Hilarious - I look like I've been punched in the mouth!
And in this picture, Richard comes on down. 
"I used to be in Opal's Rainforest,
but now I am quite rare,
But you can find me dressed up in Woolworths
Because I'm always there!"It took me a minute, but the penny finally dropped - Ladybirds! Knitting Ladybird AKA Linz... I'm dead impressed.
This was from the Dishcloth Swap on Swap-Bot. Thanks to Jacquie for organising it - t'was great fun.
Looking down on the village, the church tower is to the left and the houses curl up Mapstone Hill.
The smaller pic shows Syd in the foreground. 
Saturday 28th October and I'm now half way through my adventures. This Grandmother from the one of the numerous Hilltribes in Northern Thailand (Karen, I think) was on a street stall outside the Imperial Mae Ping Hotel selling lots of handcrafted goodies. I bought some beautiful embroidered purses for pressies to take home (haven't got room to carry much!). Grandmother posed with her grandson for me - isn't he just gorgeous? A few of you Blog commenters have asked me what Hashing is. I did put a (admittedly obscure) link in Thailand take four... But from this site I quote: "Basically hashing is a form of non-competitive cross-country running with the main objective of working up a decent thirst. Great emphasis is placed on the social aspects - particularly the communal boozing session at the aprés-hash. It's a fun activity and not be taken at all seriously.
Now that we've cleared that up, on with INTERHASH! After buying the aforementioned goodies, I stroll back to EagleHouse2 to collect some laundry, then drop in a nearby cafe for breakfast and internet thrown in for a couple of quid. Then I go to catch bus to the Stadium - only to find I've missed it! Reading the programme a bit more closely I notice the last one went at 11.30hrs and it's now midday. How stoopid is that. I find a Canadian Hasher and a couple of Aussie Hashers wondering around in a similar predicament - and we join forces to share a taxi for 70Baht each. 
I get on the coach for Run number 20 descibed thus: "A-B run Country lanes thr0ugh orchard area into high hills, especially the medium run. wonderful views of rice paddies and orchard, and the villages below, spectacular steep finish from the temple and wade knee deep river to the circle".
This pic is of hashers piling off coach and listening (or not) to the Hares describe the route. There were a large number of Malaysian and Aussie hashers on this one. I made the mistake of going long when I should have gone short - Shade? What shade? There were two hills to climb in the heat and humidity - the hare at the back took pity on me (and a couple of others) and showed us a shortcut skirting the second hill - so I never reached the temple, which is just as well as there were over a 1000 steps up to it and I think I'd have died... don't know why they can't just arrange down hill hashes!
Despite cheating, there were still some stupendous views...
Didn't bother with wading in the river on the way back to the circle - didn't know what might be lurking in there! The circle was great - not too long. There were lots of the feral Thai dogs wondering around looking hopefully at the sandwiches which had been provided. One particularly healthy looking young dog stole a young hasher's camera and ran amok with it! 
Sister Michael, a scothasher who I remember from Cardiff Interhash, was also on this hash and got a 'down down' for accidentally going long instead of short - he's the guy with the enormous beerbelly girth in the fluorescent yellow/green shirt kneeling with his fellow victims in the pic. 
He entertained us with an aria from his amazing repertoire of bawdy tunes.
Back at the stadium, I run into several hashers from the South West of England - but STILL no Bangkok and Ferret (who, if you recall, I'd entrusted my hash goodie bag to!). I go back to the hotel relatively early and am asleep by 10pm. Hatrack, by all accounts, didn't get back until 3am because he was sharing old navy/asian memories with ex-pat buddies. I sleep in to 8am.
Sunday 29th October - last day of Interhash.Slept in until 8am. Finally run in to Ferret and Bangkok at breakfast in the hotel and collect my goody bag - Tshirts, a towel, the Interhash survival guide etc etc - we don't know how we kept missing each other! That's the trouble with these daft names - I mean you can't exactly go up to reception and ask what room Bangkok is staying in, can you? Have noodles and enormous prawns for brunch and get on Coach E for run no 2 "Doi Wiang valley and dam is an incredibly beautiful valley with good easy running on small country paths and mostly shaded. There's a moderate climb up to the Stupa on the hill and great views, some interesting creek crossings and an interesting 'on-in'." Turns out there are an enormous number of us south west UK hashers on this particular run - see pic! 
What a motley crew. That's me on the left looking like I want a pee. Today I did the short: about 5.2 km. This hash was vastly superior to yesterdays - much more shady, running along jungle trails and a wonderful slither down between trees from the stupa on the hill where the Buddhas was all dressed in gold and saffron. 
We ran past some Thais preparing a float for the Loi Krathong Ceremony.
T
he run yesterday was 
mostly along dirt tracks and began by circling around what appeared to be an industrial excavation site. Today's, in comparison, was beautiful, finishing at a Dam, where grass roofed houses littered the shore and young lads fished. I went swimming in the muddy water - blissfully cool and no leeches!
This was a picture of the scrawny chickens - not Fallen Woman!
The circle was OK start with, but then when on, and on and on - for over two hours! I'm used to circles that last all of
20minutes if that at my 'home hash' in Ashburton and I got a little bored. 
After eating, I went off to watch the closing ceremony. It's a very odd thing that out of all the thousands of hashers present at this gathering, one should keep running into the same few people. It took me a few minutes to realise that I had once more met up with the Pussy Galore and Cumlord sat right next to me, 
that same couple who had fed me beers and sympathy the night I lost the bicycle key.
On November 5th the Thai people celebrate their 'Festival of Lights' or Loi Krathong.
"When the tide is high and rivers brim on the full moon in November, Thais pay
tribute to water. Held this year on November 5, the Loi Krathong festival sees
most of the population head to canals, streams or rivers like the Ping or Chao
Phraya to bless this element so central to their culture, and to seek
forgiveness for using and polluting it in the process. Thais say this thank you
with flowers. Only they don’t present bunches or even
garlands; they fit the plants architecturally into krathong —
elaborate natural rafts that they construct from materials found in the
traditional Thai garden or field. Most urbanites, however, buy ready-made
krathong from pierside stalls."
A miniature version of this ceremony, with processions by beautiful young men and women in full costume was put on for us now as part of the closing show. There is more information on Loi Krathong here. This year's Loi Krathong was to take place at the same time as the ROYAL FLORA RATCHAPHRUEK an International Horticultural Exposition as part of the celebrations of the 60th year of His Majesty the King of Thailand's ascendancy to the throne and to coincide with his birthday. Three million people were expected to descend on Chiang Mail and accommodation would be in short supply. Since I would be homeless the next morning I was mildly concerned - but I needn't have been. Another part of the Loi Krathong ceremony traditionally performed in Thailand is the sending up of huge paper lanterns into the sky:
Several lanterns get stuck in trees and the Tourist Police had to run around with a long pole, dislodging them.
The Kome Loy is a lantern that is similar to a hot-air-balloon. Because the air lantern must rise up to float in the air, it must be lightweight, therefore, it does not have a bamboo cylinder inside. In order to send the lantern into the air, it requires a method to heat the air. This is done by tying a small bowl underneath the open section of the lantern. Oil is then placed into the bowl along with a cotton cloth. As the oil catches fire and commences burning, the hot air quickly travels into the lantern and it soon rises into the air.
It is believed that by sending off these lanterns an individual can send one's sins and bad luck into the air. Usually before the lantern soars into the sky, an individual will pray that one's sin or bad luck will be transported on the lantern and floated away high into the sky. Sometimes an address is left inside. The purpose of this is when the lantern come back down to the ground, and individual can follow an address and seek for money from whomever wrote the address. Or even sometimes, the maker will put some money inside the lantern. The purpose of the hot air lantern is to worship and pay respect to the Phra Ged Kaew Ju La Manee. An old legend tells that during war, these lanterns were sent into enemy territory and exploded. The Interhash Mismanagement Committee had arranged for a thousand lanterns to be sent up into the sky - permission had to be obtained from the air traffic control so the timing of the release was crucial. The lanterns were beautiful - A spectacular finish to Interhash. Perth has won the vote for NEXT Interhash in two years time, but unfortunately I don't think I'll be going to Australia.
Back to the Imperial Mae Peng Hotel for the penultimate kip before I'm homeless.
