How you can retire early if you ride a bicycle

I attended a talk last night by Dr Paul Tranter on the concept of "Effective Speed". It was one of those total lightbulb experiences. After a bout of insomnia the night before (1 hour of sleep - thanks a lot, Sleep Gods!) and a whole day at work I was pretty fried when I went into the talk after a day at work, but I came out absolutely buzzing! The talk finally gave me proof of some things which I've always thought were true but never had any evidence for: namely that riding a bicycle around is way smart!

One of the most exciting prospects from the talk was that riding a bicycle instead of owning a car means that you could work less - maybe cut back to 4 days a week or retire a few years earlier. Same goes for catching a bus or a train - in many contexts public transport is also "faster" in real terms than going by car. OK, well it isn't quite that simple, but it's not all that complicated either.

The Oregon coast

Basically, Dr Tranter illustrated that the belief that driving a car saves us time is, in many cases, a fallacy. In fact, cars are one of the least time-effective modes of transport, because although the time it takes you to go from A to B might be shorter than other modes of transport, in order to undertake that journey you have to go to work for x hours in order to pay for the cost of owning and running the car. So "effective speed" takes a holistic approach to calculating the true costs of transport. If you choose a mode of transport which costs less money, although it might take a little longer to get from A to B, you don't have to work as many hours to pay for it (or you can spend the money on other things to improve your quality of life - e.g. Koigu knitting yarn ;-))

To his credit Dr Tranter was not a car-basher. He presented a really balanced argument and included several forms of transport in his analysis - e.g. car, train, bus, bicycle. His website has some references to some academic papers he has written on the subject (one 2008 paper is being posted later today apparently). There is also an older Australian Greenhouse Office paper on the subject online.

Holiday blog paralysis and a shock about socks

Hello all! Got back from our holiday to the UK and France today and would really like to blog about some of it but am a bit overwhelmed about where to start. After three weeks of visiting people and places in Wales and London and three weeks of eating, drinking and cycling in France there's a lot to say and too many photos to deal with whilst suffering jetlag! I'll work my way though them slowly over the coming weeks in themed blog entries. I've already thought of a few good themes for France: 1. entrees; 2. main courses; 3. desserts. I'm serious! Here's a preview to make sure you come back!


Careful! Drool is really hard to get out of a keyboard, you know.

For now, because I can't decide where to start with all the rest, I'll retreat to the safe blogging ground of craft. Here is some my work that now lives in the UK.



I made these Nancy Bush 'New England' socks during my North-American sock frenzy of 2005. The yarn is Koigu, don't you know. It was my first lace knitting project and worked from a chart, which drove me a bit mental at the time (in a good way) and was knitted primarily in a sunny central Illinois backyard and on a wonderful 43-hour-ish train journey from Chicago to Seattle. I have such wonderful memories of these socks and I think they are probably my favourite project ever. Big call, eh? They represent a perfect confluence of high quality yarn, an excellent pattern and, most of all, the wonderful memories of the summer I spent with my friend Sarah and her family in Illinois. In short, these socks mean happiness to me, I guess.


Anyway, 2005 was the only year I achieved a long-held goal of making all my Christmas presents and these socks were given to a relative in North Wales with whom we stayed on our trip. It was an interesting experience to catch up with this beloved project. Not only did I get to take belated photos, but I also got to find out a bit about their lives. I've got mixed feelings about whether that is a good thing or not because the news was somewhat shocking.

Are you ready? Brace yourself.

They have become gardening socks and are worn inside gum boots.

Are you all still there? I think I heard the gasps from here.

I tried hard not to let my horror show when I heard this news but I don't think I was successful. Some time during the recipient's perfectly logical explanation of how these socks are too thick for her regular shoes but the perfect weight for her gum boots, I managed to close my gaping mouth. On the positive side, I take comfort in the fact that the sock-owner is the tidiest person I know. Walking into her house is enough to make me feel like an class-A scruff. So I have no doubt that her gum boots are the most pristine gum boots you'd ever find. I'd be lying if I said I didn't care that these socks aren't being displayed in public from time to time, but I am happy that they are being used and enjoyed. Much better than if they were left forgotten at the back of a drawer. I'm sure I am remembered every time these socks are worn and that is nice. That is enough. It makes me reflect on the importance we place on the visual - it's just one aspect of our craft but is it the most important? Possibly not.

The wedding shawl and wedding sampler

Bit of a theme here, following the previous engagement socks post. This time I'm showing a picture of the Wisp shawl that I hastily made myself for my cousin's wedding in Beddgelert, North Wales, which was held on Saturday. The shawl's already on Ravelry, but I wanted to show a picture of it being actually being worn. The Rowan Kidsilk Night was fantastic and kept me warm all afternoon and evening.

The wedding was wonderful. It was sort of a mini-break wedding, really, as many people stayed at the country house where it was held. The evening entertainment included a casino with free play money to gamble away. I managed to lose my £50 on the blackjack table under 10 minutes!

I'll show more pics of fabulous North Wales when I have time. For now, I'll just add one more photo - the wedding present I gave Clare and Ash. It took me several months to make and the design is based on an embroidery by Georgia Willison, the mother of my friend Sarah. I don't know if it was Georgia's design or whether she got it from a pattern, but I think she would have been chuffed to see her work imitated either way. Thanks, Sarah, for your permission to use it.

The story of the engagement socks

When I lived in Canada two years ago I started knitting Nancy Bush's Conwy socks from some lovely Fleece Artist yarn. I managed to knit one of these socks before I left Canada and this project came with me on my Canada to Mexico bike ride. I thought for sure that I would be able to finish them on the 6-week trip. I imagined I would have lots of spare time by the campfire in the evenings but as it turns out there are a million and one chores to do each night when travelling by bike - daily handwashing of sweaty lycra and flouro, bike repairs, hunting and gathering food for that night and the next day, setting up tent, etc, etc). So the knitting travelled all that way with me with barely a stitch knitted and this is one of the more unusual ways something becomes a UFO, I guess! Another contributing factor as to how these gorgeous socks became relegated to UFO status was that that the first sock had turned out a bit too tight around the widest part of the foot (at the 90 degree bend on the front of your foot). I had wanted these socks to be for me, but this meant that actually they would become a present for a smaller friend and I think that made second-sock syndrome all the more difficult to fight, especially as this was the second pair of socks I'd made out of this yarn, and thus it was actually more like fourth-sock syndrome.

Anyway, I got the second (fourth) sock done and had decided that they would be an engagement present for N, who had small feet and who had commented on the lovely yarn. I finished them quickly and then held both socks up side-by-side and realised with horror that I had made a calamitous mistake - I'd knitted them on different size needles. I was aghast for a day or so, but I didn't frog. Instead, I talked to N, who is a knitter and who is staunchly anti-frog. We worked out a solution, based on the fact that N, like many people, actually has a half-size difference in the size of her left and right feet. So this pair of socks has an L sock and an R sock. The main difference when you looked at the socks was that one was taller up the leg than the other by about a centimetre. So I undid the cast on and picked up stitches on the top and knitted an extra centimetre of rib. It's a bit messy when you look closely and the cast off doesn' t look the same as the cast on on the other sock, but the mottled shade of the yarn is very forgiving and N seems very happy with her engagement socks with a story!

Contents of a cyclist's "handbag"

I've always wanted to meme and now I'm a speck in the the blogosphere I can dig deep within myself (or my "handbag") and spill forth facts about myself no-one ever dreamed could have been true. Ok, I may be overstating the importance of the contents of my handbag but I'm in the first flush of blog and I'm a bit excitement... I...I mean excited.

So this is my meme on the contents of my handbag. Except I don't really have a handbag. I have cycle panniers. I have four but the front wheel two are only used for tours and the back two don't like each other that much and so they don't go out together very often (only for shopping trips usually). So I bring one to work and they tend to swap around a bit. Lefty came with me to work today. Righty stayed home. Righty also contains my puncture repair kit and associated tools. I like to spin the wheel of chance when it comes to being prepared. Luckily punctures are a rarity for me due to reinforcements in my rear tyre (Mr Tuffy strips) so I haven't been caught out yet. Uttering this statement has surely tempted fate though.

Anyhoo or beth bynnag in Welsh (pronounced beth bunnag), these are the contents of my panniers (from this morning):

1. Bottle of water - I have a small set of recycled water bottles which litter my office and house. I never wash them - just keep refilling them. Isn't that a tiny bit gross when you think about it? Glasses and cups get washed but not these bottles.

2. Tupperware container with left over vegetable curry for lunch in it. I would be looking forward to it if I hadn't already eaten it 4 out of the last 5 days.

3. Lebanese bread to go with the curry as I ran out of rice yesterday.

4. Cycle computer and back light - I park my bike outside at work and don't like to leave these detatchable items on it in case of naughty people who like to help themselves to such things.

5. Flouro cycling vest which I don't wear to work because I only live just around the corner and I don't have to go on any busy roads. I do wear it if I go on busy/tricky roads though or going to unknown places where I don't know the road conditions. It's in my bag because my friend J from work borrowed it from me recently and just gave it back to me.

6. Wallet and ugly grey change purse. My pretty cloth change purse recently died after 8 or so good years of service and I'm using this ugly freebie cosmetics bag that is the type that comes free with a magazine or shampoo sometimes. Must make myself a new purse soon.

7. Gloves - It's become glove weather for cyclists in Canberra over the last week. The irony is that I have them in my bag but I didn't put them on this morning and I got cold hands and this means I was there riding with one hand on the handlebars and one hand in my pocket and I was alternating them when it got too bad for the handlebar hand. So dumb that I was too lazy to stop and get the gloves out.

8. Knitting in ziplock bag. This is actually completed socks and all I have to do is sew in one end. These socks are a present for N at work who recently got engaged. There is a whole story behind these socks and the monumental cock-up I have done with them which I will save for another time.

9. Embroidery project for my cousin C's wedding in two weeks' time with enormous yellow plastic bag. Can't show the actual embroidery as it is a surprise present but will after the wedding. Hoping to do some stitching during lunch. Some people might think I am incredibly brave (or stupid) to put an embroidery on which I have been working for months and a curry in the same bag. You are so right. It is a bit stupid but I always make sure curry is in extra reliable container and put it the bottom of the bag and this is the reason for the huge yellow plastic bag for the embroidery. See? It all makes sense! But one day I will be sorry...very sorry, I'm sure.

10. Muesli bar for a snack. As G said in her handbag meme, it gets very ugly if my blood sugar goes whacky.

11. Mobile phone

12. Post-it note left over from when someone picked something up from my office recently.

13. Telstra bill.

Tah-dah!

Knit Knit book review and tea bag strings

During the Easter long weekend I visited my brother in Melbourne. Melbourne is one of my favourite cities and the year I spent living there in 1999 was far too short. But one way or another my life hasn't taken me back there to live (yet), so I'm super happy to have a close relo living there now. Aside from visiting my brother and yarn shops (of course) my main aim was to visit bookshops. I borrowed a bike from my brother and rode around town from shop to shop and didn't have a lot of luck finding anything I liked until the last day when I hit paydirt at Borders in Carlton. It has a great selection of knitting books (unlike Borders in the Canberra Centre which continually disappoints). My best get was Knit Knit, edited by Sabrina Gschwandmer. (BTW, thank you, God, for giving me a short German surname to spell.) This book is full of the most inventive stitching. It's mostly wearable and non-wearable knitted art and profiles 27 knitters/artists. My favourite is Isabel Berglund who has knitted a wearable room! The knitted walls have knitted garments sewn into them which you can slip into and the whole thing is topped off with a knitted tree. Absolute genius, as far as I am concerned.

This book has convinced me that nothing is too weird to knit - there's even a section on a guy called Dave Cole who knits gigantic structures (e.g. a massive teddy bear) out of sometimes toxic industrial materials. So I've decided to collect 1000 used tea bag strings to knit. The pic is of my current collection of two from home. It will be a art/craft/recycling statement type of project. If you would like to help, send me a comment and I'll give you an address to which you can send your used tea-bag strings. I've already caused a stir at work by putting a bowl with a sign in the kitchen. Hmm...cup of tea...good idea!

Opening message

My very first blog post! Yay! Ok - I lie. This is actually my second blog post. I started this blog a few months ago but have been too timid to out myself as a blogger as yet, partly because deep down I doubted my ability to commit to it, but mostly because I was afraid it would be crap. However, things have changed. I have told my perfectionist side to shut up (well, after I deleted my actual first post - really, it was v.v. bad though) and I've decided that I'm going to have a go, no matter how bad the writing is. The tipping point came last night as I read Quilting Mick's blog for the first time and in particular her moving post titled Can You Imagine Us Years from Now and I realised more than ever that blogging is about making connections with people.

A word about the title of this blog: Beth Bynnag is a Welsh phrase which means 'anyway'. I lived in beautiful North West Wales for six years and consider it my second home. I am actually going back there next week for a family wedding. I'll be sure to blog it.