Well wrapped up and digitally enhanced: a tale for our times

Until last week I was in danger of slipping down the wrong side of the digital divide, and becoming one of those lost souls about whom governments exercise themselves, and provide drop-in sessions at libraries. I am not one of those who sends messages tip-tapped out with their I-thumbs, and I was in possession of a mobile phone which surely qualified as vintage, if not antique, but then I like the distressed look (which is a Good Thing, as I am a Living Example of that look).

But so digitally unbalanced had I become, that I rarely used this aged piece of technology, and found myself slipping down that digital divide into an older generation who only carry a mobile phone 'for emergencies', and the little black brick just weighed down my bag, and stayed turned off for much of the time because it was such an effort to make the 'On' switch work (especially if my fingernails had become denuded by gardening without gloves on), and the punctuation button was cracked (and you can tell I am Yesterday's Woman, by the fact that I use punctuation in text messages) and even if the phone was switched on, so antique and vintage have my eyes become that it was all a bit of a struggle to read those tiny letters when a text came through.

 If it was too dark, or the sun was shining too brightly, or I was a touch fatigued, well, then, it hardly seemed worth the effort. And I could only use it at work if I went outside onto the front step, which is all right in the summer, but on a cold winter's day it was all a bit much.

But luckily one of the bright young things in the office (well, in fact, one of the few under-40s working in agriculture, such is the ageing of the workforce) took matters in hand and procured me a shiny new phone with big print and loud ringtone. (He told me that it wasn't a special needs phone for the digitally unbalanced, but I think he was being nice.)

So new and smooth and shiny is this phone that I began to fear for its safety in the deepest recesses of the capacious portmanteau (together with the capacious knitting bag) which accompanies me on my travels: my old mobile was originally labelled 'semi-rugged' and suitable for builders and such like. It made me feel quite hearty and adventurous when I first acquired it, and I can vouch for the fact that it has survived many a bounce on the floor, although possibly that is why it had become a little temperamental.

Now, although the General assured me that phones are really quite robust nowadays (why is it when a Young Person says 'nowadays' you immediately feel that you ought to be reaching for your Zimmer frame and hearing aid?), the Ploughboy asked what model I have (I could tell him because it is written on the front) and replied, 'Oh,' in rather a dismissive way (and honestly, he is such a nice boy, really) so I decided to mark my digital rebalancing with a bit of stitchery, as the sort of old person's model of mobile phone that I now possess seems to look a little fragile.

I have left the little pull-off sticker on the screen, just in case, even though my children informed me that the sticker is removable, in patient, kindly voices, the sort of tone one would use to someone slightly deaf and possibly slightly unhinged as well.

And you will see from the pictures the result is quite surprisingly pleasing - I am always surprised when things that I have made turn out pleasing, it must be something in my childhood. (Please ignore the scraps of thread - the camera has spotted what my poor old eyes did not - which do demonstrate that I really did make this dinky little phone pouch with my own dear hands.)

The pattern (which has two sizes) came from Keyka Lou, and even has a handy little pocket for business cards on the back (carrying business cards does make me feel quite executive and important, even if I don't come across many people to hand them to: it's the thought that counts).

There are lots of nifty patterns for purses and bags and pouches in Keykalou's shop, and I have to say that I can highly recommend this one. The instructions are so clear and simple (lots of nice pictures) and although I am a slow worker, and somewhat spatially challenged, not to mention easily distracted, it only took a couple of hours to make - probably just one hour for someone a little more efficient.

The fabrics were from the Tanya Whelan Ava Rose range, and you could make several of these phone cases from a couple of fat quarters; the button has been smiling at me from my button box for some time, and unfortunately the elastic is so vintage that it has rather lost its ping, so I had to add the stylish knot that you see.

And that's the end of my stitching for the day - back to Peggy Sue for a bit, or I might even be obliged to do some proper work, like address my overflowing filing tray, but that would be too distressing at this time of day, so I think I will leave that until tomorrow. And the Head Chef has gone out with a lot of sausages, so it looks like I might have to cook supper (he tells me it's very simple). I will go and consult How to Run Your Home Without Help, and possibly consider a blog post addressing staff problems and the busy housewife. Au revoir ...