January in the Garden

Some relatively calm, fine (but cold) weather recently saw me out in the garden for the first time in possibly a couple of months. The soil is too claggy to dig, it's rather cold to be potting up the last few plants from the ex-lawn. I didn't have the energy (or the bare soil) to turn over the compost heaps, so just had a look into them to see how things are going. The worms seem happy, and I'm happy to see lots of them. One day I pulled out a couple of tub-fulls of weeds, dead fern fronds and leaves. The free-standing compost heap is now cascading everywhere. On another day, I contemplated what I might do with the out-of-scale lilac, to bring it under control without just cutting it down to a level where it can regrow (still working on that one; internet research hasn't brought up any suggestions, either). For the time being, I contented myself with using it to support a netted string of fat-balls and peanuts, to see if I could attract more birds into the garden and stop the blackbirds pulling my potted plants to bits. If it works, I might even do the Big Garden Birdwatch this year.

Besides, the thing I perceive as the main obstruction (in my mind, at least) is the need to remove the privet hedge (and probably the old concrete posts and rusty chain-link between them) on the north side of the garden and replace it with a sturdy fence (the north side and back are 'my' boundaries). Which will need money I don't have (at the moment, at least). I decided I could take some steps towards this by cutting it back, so I could at least see what work will be needed, and that I should do this before any birds get the idea of starting nests in there. The local jackdaws and collared doves have been pair-bonding for a while. A pair of blackbirds, who were nesting in the hedge the year I moved, but nested somewhere in next-door's Kilmarnock willow and surrounding shrubs last year, I think, have been back and forth between our gardens. I hope they nest next door again, as my cats would be only too happy to break my stern injunction against bird-chasing, if they thought they could get away with it.

Top-heavy and tangled, the hedge sprawls drunkenly two metres or more out from the true fence-line, reaching out towards the sun. There is some fence towards the end of the garden, but discounting the patio, the hedge runs for about two thirds of the length of the garden on that side, reducing the width of my garden by 20%. A fifth of the width! It also protects the omnipresent brambles. I've also been digging out bramble again in the garden. I'm 8 inches down in one spot and still can't get the root up. No wonder it springs up all over the place. I had to give up when rain stopped play, but the blackbirds have been delighted to peck around in the hole once the cats and I went back inside.

I've had a couple of goes at hacking back and clearing up, punctuated by a bit of grooving to next-door's radio as the son of the house worked outside and chatting with him through the thinned portion of the hedge to catch up on some news. I missed being yapped at by their little Yorkshire terrier. She had cancer and they had to let her go late last year. Apparently, where the hedge gives way to fence panels on that side, there was an earthbank across the end of the garden, on top of which there were tall trees, which were removed and the earth dug away so that the back of the garden could be fenced and used. No wonder the soil at that end seems so thin and stony, and I've dug up rotten tree roots. I'd heard before that there was a Pembrokeshire bank along the back of the houses, but I wonder if it was, in fact, just an earthbank created by levelling the site when these houses were built in the '50s.

Also chats with the neighbour on the other side; they've been having some work done on their patio and side passage, and having had the back end of the latter demolished, found that the wall between us was on a thin raft of concrete and, not keyed into the buildings, was wobbling precariously. I had thought that there were walls between all the houses, because the walls on either side of my space were identical, but it now seems likely that the people who were in my house built both walls. The workmen have taken it down and replaced it with fence, but there's currently an uneven edge to the concrete where the wall started on my side, and a void beneath the fence panel through which I can admire my neighbours' new patio paving, which appears to be at the same level as the main part of my patio, but which is probably 20 cm/8" lower than the area outside my back door/side passage. Work was done to extend and renovate 'my' side passage in 2005 (?) and there are a couple of shallow steps up to come in through the side door at the front, as well as a height difference at the back, so I suspect it has to do with the drainage for things like the walk-in shower.

The sight of a flock of lapwings against blue sky also interrupted my fight with the hedge. The largest flock I've seen this year has been around 100, same as last winter, but (unlike last winter, when there were lapwings around earlier) although I heard a few at night in December, I didn't actually see any until January.

Now it's February. I've removed roughly half the hedge, but it's still a twiggy, untidy mess, still plenty to do. I really need to finish up and create some space to grow veg, but the weather has turned. Every time there's a clear spell and I put on work shoes and gloves, it starts raining as soon as I go back outside. It may be mild, but I would rather not work in the rain.

Hedge hacking in progress

No wonder everything is so green! Some of the campanula on the patio has had occasional flowers throughout the winter, and there are now flowers on some of the primulas and rosemary. I thought I had a pot of snowdrops, but couldn't find it the other day. However, the many muscari (grape hyacinths) have little flower spikes just waiting to shoot up, and the ipheion next to the front porch has a flower on it too.

A friend commented that it was 'such a lot of work', but I like it. All I need is some better weather so that I can do a lot more!

A Year of Stitches

Not that I need another project, but an invitation from a Facebook friend in Nottingham (a wonderful dancer and consummate craftswoman, as well as having gorgeous cats!) was too attractive to resist. I haven't done any embroidery for years. Time to regenerate my rusty embroidery skills!

The idea  is to create some embroidery - sampler, free-form, whatever you like - using a different stitch every day for a year. I'd seen a post on Craftsy last year about it, and it's an idea which has evidently caught the imagination of many embroidery enthusiasts.

I managed to find my frame, my stash of embroidery floss and some calico. I managed the first fortnight or so, working in a doodle-like fashion, trying not to be too judgemental or a perfectionist about the result. I did rip out one row of stitches, because they were just too untidy.

But it's evidently not the year for this, because I found that I quickly became bored and dissatisfied with my doodle and didn't have the energy to restart it as a sampler. I usually have no problem with Art For Art's Sake, but started thinking I should be creating something functional, and felt a vague sense of guilt.

Then I received a very large book (well, 5 books plus prologue and epilogue) to edit and the embroidery project has already slipped. It's sitting in the living room, and should be tempting, but after a few hours correcting appalling typography and wading through paragraph-length sentences, I find I don't have the concentration to do any embroidery.

I even feel torn that I've decided to give the project up, but it was clearly not meant to be, at least for this year. It's not as if I don't have other WIPs!

It's More Than Just A Dance Class

Another term, another manic round of  finding and reminding dancers to register, liaising with the Adult Ed department to try to determine whether there are enough for the class to go ahead (a floating number depending on how many pay which level of fees, which no-one seems able to estimate until at least 10 are registered) and preparing classes.

Then, revising the plans a little due to a change in location (industrial carpeting is horrible to turn on! The ceiling height looks okay - would we hit it if we used canes or Isis wings?) Then ensuring our Facebook group and my website have all the up-to-date information. From an organiser's point of view, whether that's an Adult Education organisation or the teacher themselves, trying to get a class going, chasing up enquiries, booking and checking the venue, marketing, advertising and planning the class, it's all necessary work, but is also unpaid expenses until the class successfully goes ahead.

And then, the day before the class is due to start, I hear that two have failed to pay. So now those who did pay for the term have no class, and no prospect of a class at least before half term, and want their money back (a pain and further sunk costs for the community education centre, although I would probably have gone ahead if it were one of my independent classes). Why the drop-outs? One I now know about; flu' over the holiday season left a harsh cough and such strained intercostals (never mind gasping for breath) that her doctor instructed her to rest for at least the next few weeks. About the other, whom I don't know but who was apparently eager to join the class, I have no idea, and neither does her friend who already comes to class.

We've been here before. A few years ago, a dancer was asked and repeatedly reminded by one of her friends to let her know about the class. She gave her all of the information, each time her friend asked her about it. Eventually, her friend stopped nagging 'let me know' and it turned into a sort of accusatory 'you were supposed to let me know'. Exasperated, the dancer reminded her friend that she had let her know, she had given her all of the information, every time she asked. She'd encouraged her friend to come, reassured her; in fact, done everything short of dragging her friend out of the house, driving her to class and back, and paying for her. All her friend had to do was show up (and pay), but she never did. And although 'but I didn't know about it' was evidently not an excuse, we never knew the real reason why she didn't come.

Nor have I had any sign-ups, or even enquiries, for my independent class. It's 15 miles away, which means no-one from the other class wants to move to that one. I've decided that I'm going to keep that room booking and use the space-time to work on my own technique and choreographies, or perhaps the odd private lesson if anyone wants one.

There has been some interest, but no real commitment, for the collaborative piece I proposed last summer. It seems impossible to get all half-dozen dancers together even for an initial meeting.

WI and other talks/demos bring forth regular comments of 'I would love to' or 'perhaps next term/year', but what stops the wish from being fulfilled is anyone's guess. I chat to the ladies over tea and biscuits at the end of these sessions to try to get to the bottom of that. It's evident from the feedback that belly dance is not what they thought it was, so much so that I now include a 'myth-busting' section in my talk (it's not the preserve of slender, leggy young women, you don't have to bare any flesh/tummies/legs, you don't have to be fit, coordinated or be any good at it to start, it's never too late, ... and so on).

I deplore the idea, which I've heard repeated in adult education circles, that adult 'leisure' courses are mainly for the idle rich, but there may be some truth in it. Belly dancing can be a problematic topic in terms of engaging adults, who can find any number of reasons why not to do something. As always, it probably comes down to personal priorities and more intangible reasons for not wanting a dance class, although belly dance classes are not the only classes which are failing to run through insufficient interest. It seems many really just don't want to learn (or feel they're being taught). I can understand this for those who aren't academic and have just finished full-time education, and there are some who have been put off lifelong learning by their experience of school.

Whatever the reasons for not coming to class (and I've posted an example of this before), there are good reasons for getting out there and continuing learning.

If belly dance itself is more than just jiggling your bottom, then learning to dance is about much more than just dance. That's just the vehicle for learning - it can be a very broad topic, from working on rhythms using finger cymbals to exploring the music, history and culture, or political and feminist issues, to building self-esteem and confidence.

Everyone needs physical activities, even the less able-bodied and it doesn't have to be sport. Just walking a bit more is free and contributes to the recommended minimum of 150 minutes of moderately-paced (that is, it gets you warm and a bit sweaty without leaving you unable to speak!) activity per week. However, dance offers the full package, improving balance, posture, range of body and joint movement, muscle strength and cardiovascular capacity. Belly dance is particularly good for core muscle strength and its benefits for balance, posture and digestion, and is low impact, so kind to ageing joints.

Furthermore, learning involves brain activity, promoting thinking skills, improving concentration and attention span, widening interests and generating ideas. For some, the main enjoyment comes from social interaction,making new friends and reducing feelings of loneliness and isolation.

I often worry about the future of public sector Adult Education services, not to mention my own work as an independent teacher. When classes close, it can be difficult to get them restarted and the resulting lack of funds can start a vicious circle, reducing the availability of classes. Yes, there is a lot of free information available via the internet, but it's not always a good substitute for being taught in a class with others. So don't wait for things (life, weight, whatever!) to be perfect before you start doing things you might enjoy, because one day when you decide you want a class, it may not be there. Use it or lose it!

Little Victories

Since well before Thanksgiving, the Gratitude/Happiness/Memories Jar memes were doing the rounds of Facebook (again). I've no idea when this tradition started, but, since it seems to include reading back all the memories, happy moments and things to be grateful for at Thanksgiving, I expect that it's more of a 'thing' in the USA.

The rules are simple, because they're basically whatever you want them to be.You take a storage or preserving jar, a pen, a stack of small note-paper strips or squares. You label and decorate the jar if you like. Daily or occasionally, you record something you're thankful for, a happy moment or memory, and pop it in the jar. Then, at the end of the year, or whenever you're in need of cheering up, you read the notes.

It's a lovely idea, definitely something I would do if I had children. I toyed with the idea of starting a jar this year and can easily find a jar, but where to put it? And considering that I can always find something to be grateful for or happy about, how big a jar might I need?

Mulling all this over, I thought about how I'd forgotten what I'd achieved last year. What and how much do I learn over a year? All the little skills or bits of knowledge which I acquire in the course of crafting, teaching, learning, doing, or simply because something arouses my curiosity so I go and look it up. Some things I forget completely, sometimes I remember them and 'know what I know', and others become embodied and automatic, as if there wasn't a time when I didn't know them.

So I am going to record them (when I remember to - no absolutes here!), in a diary rather than a jar. Not just some of the bits and pieces I learn, but the Yay! moments, no matter how small, whether it's managing to do tummy/diaphragm flutters (still working on that!), finishing a piece of work or doing a job I've been avoiding (for me, that's generally anything which needs me to get the stepladder out). It doesn't matter what others would think of them, because the important thing is their personal significance.

If reading back the notes in a gratitude jar can lift the spirits, then perhaps reviewing all the little victories of daily life can give a real boost to motivation and self-esteem.

Happy New Year 2017!

Here we are again, how the years fly by! Time for another introspective, retrospective, New Year post, and the now-traditional picture of the London Fireworks.

I had more 'Christmas Dos' - meals and meet-ups rather than parties - in December than I've had in a long, long time. The food was very good, the company, chat and laughter all wonderful. I then had a very quiet, solitary Christmas and New Year, which suited me very well, as I knitted and watched TV, lazed in bed, cuddled my clingy cats and generally hibernated. The rest and relaxation had a practical side too; since the cold snap in November, my joints feel as though they have seized and my knees are especially painful. It's now two years since I took any pain meds and I'm trying to stay away from them and manage instead with targeted exercises, distraction, breathing, rest and so on. I've also been fighting off a cold, which so far has not really materialised, but every time I think it's gone, I wake up the next day with a sore throat and fuzzy head. It's just a mild nuisance, nothing compared to the fact that a couple of my friends have been quite ill with flu over the festive season, and my friend S spent Christmas in hospital after some more attempts to lower her intracranial pressure. Really, I've nothing to complain about! Still, the joint pain meant I really couldn't be bothered to tidy my projects away in the living room enough to put decorations up, and have to take them down a couple of weeks later. Not very festive, but I'd only myself to please.

The usual cluttered chaos of beads, yarns, fabrics etc. and general lack of progress getting everything ship-shape made me wonder how to change my habits and what, in fact, I'd achieved this year. Evidently not lots of blog posts. Or cleaning and sorting out. I couldn't remember what I'd done with my time, so glanced back over my diary and to do lists.

I was pleasantly surprised with what I found. I'd cleaned and placed several items of furniture and unpacked several boxes. I'd attended workshops, including 5 days of contemporary dance summer school, to maintain my continuing professional development. I'd updated my emergency first aid certificate. I'd trained as a LIFT (Low Impact Functional Training, in other words, gentle exercise) leader for Age Cymru and covered quite a few classes. Two dance festivals, two choreographies (not counting what we produced for the end-of-summer-school show). Then from midsummer onwards I spent a ridiculous amount of time preparing for a series of workshops which, in the end, didn't attract enough students to run. (I bumped into one of the other tutors just before New Year and we stood in the middle of Lidl and chatted, commiserating over our zero hours contracts and what this next year might bring.) A few other bids for jobs too, all unsuccessful. I  extended my Photoshop and Word skills. And ended the year (at Yule) three kilos lighter than I'd started it.

Actually, a few weeks on and my sedentary and indulgent seasonal holiday has left me almost back where I started. So my first resolution for this year is to call a moratorium on buying sweets, cakes, pastries, biscuits or crisps, a bad habit I've slipped back into over the past couple of years.

Apart from that, it will be a case of working my way through the list of things to do, as long as ever, trying to complete, or at least start and make progress on, projects which have been lingering in my imagination for too long. Some of those are for choreographies, so a lot more dance and costuming is needed.

And, after an appalling financial year, more paid work.

But I made a decision.
This year is going to be fabulous, whether it wants to be or not.

Happy New Year!

Fibonacci Socks Pattern

I finished these short-legged, squooshy lounge socks a while ago and put the pattern details on my Ravelry 'Midnight Fibonacci Socks' project. 'Midnight', because of the sparkly dark blue yarn, and because I tend to still be knitting at midnight. The pattern of knit and purl rings on the leg, and in fact the rib sequence, was Fibonacci inspired, although there are also elements of perfect numbers, repeats and mirrors. Then I got a bit busy packing, moving house and so on, and forgot to test the pattern out a bit by making another pair, checking and writing out the instructions here. So now I've caught up with that, please feel free to try these out and let me know how they go.

Both pairs pictured were made in Alpine Spark, which is theoretically DK, but it’s quite thick, more like worsted weight, so the result is roomy even on my very wide feet. With the same number of stitches, smaller needles and a lighter DK yarn, they would probably fit an average-width foot.

These are knitted cuff-down, using a set of 4 x 4mm dpns.

Cast on 48 sts; I have the 24 heel/sole stitches on needle 1, with 12 stitches each on needles 2 and 3.
12 rounds knit and purl rib in the following pattern:
K1, P2, K3, P1, K2, P3 (repeated 4 times)

Fibonacci sequence leg (38 rows in total):
8 rounds purl
5 rounds knit
3 rounds purl
2 rounds knit
1 round purl
1 round knit
2 rounds purl
3 rounds knit
5 rounds purl
8 rounds knit

Priscilla Wild’s short row, no wraps heel:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zu5YAKsAEpY
has a nice, clear demonstration by Charisa Martin Cairn.
Note, I don’t know whether it’s the way I do K2tog, but I find I get a neater finish by doing SSK followed by the M1L on the knit side, although the purl side is always neat with P2tog and M1L which is then purled.
Naturally, you can substitute your favourite way of doing a heel. 

40 rounds stocking stitch foot (for my size 6/39, although obviously, this changes depending on foot length).

Toe decreases:
Next round (R1), decrease by 4 stitches in total, 2 at each side of the toes as follows:
Needle 1 (sole); SSK, knit to last 2 sts, K2tog
Needle 2; SSK then knit remainder of stitches on needle
Needle 3; knit to the last 2 sts, K2tog.

R2 knit all the way around.

Repeat R1 and R2 three more times (= 32 sts).

Then repeat R1 decreases on every row for the next 6 rows, leaving 8 sts in total.
Cut the yarn and either Kitchener graft the stitches together (which is what I do), or thread the yarn through the stitches to gather the toe. And then do the other sock.

Belly Dance Costume on a Budget

It was with a deepening sense of gloom that I watched the coverage of the Autumn Statement. The forecast is that low and middle income 'households' who are the JAMs - a nice new acronym, the 'Just About Managing' - will find themselves worse off as a combination of inflation and welfare cuts take hold.

When you are just about managing (and especially when you are actually not managing but determined to have some belly dance space-time), it can be really difficult to justify money spent on costume for a performance, especially if your time and money is so short that this may be once a year. The temptation is to go for something cheap, preferably something which will do double duty as everyday clothing, perhaps something you already have in your wardrobe. This can be really difficult; costume should ideally look like costume. There are few instances where you can get away with everyday wear, unless your everyday wear is somewhat bohemian and full of rich fabrics, colours, textures and bling! So, bearing in mind that I'm considering amateur performances in relatively 'safe' spaces, such as local haflas, here are some tips on what you might look for, what you might get away with, and how not to waste your money.

First, bear in mind that your costume should:

• Suit the dance style. Think about the dance - is it more cabaret or folkloric? A distinct style, or fusion? You might get away with jeans and a T shirt for Shaabi, or summer skirts for something folky or fusion, but not for something more classical.
• Fit you. Not so loose that the movements can't be seen or that it slips around or down, not so tight that it looks like you might spill out or it rides up, not so long that you trip over it, nor too short.
• Flatter you. Maximise your assets, minimise your faults, cover up anything distracting, such as large, scarred tummies and bingo wings, and look as though you are wearing the costume and not the other way around.
• Provide some visual interest and look like a unified group. I'm all for individuality, but if everyone just wears what they have or like, you can end up with every style of costume in every colour (which is what happened for the Imago dancers' first show piece. Ah well, it's all experience!). Costumes don't have to be identical, but should have some sort of richness, either in their decoration or the blend of colours and perhaps textures or fabrics, and if not all the same, then a limited set of styles can bring a group look together.)

The first thing is to assess what you have, or can borrow.

• Skirts. A skirt should be long and move nicely. Long means down to your ankles, or onto the instep of your foot, rather than calf length. Try turning in the skirt and twisting your hips to see how it moves. Ideally, you should have a skirt with a hem at least 3-4 metres long. A circular skirt will have a hem 6-7 metres long. A half circle skirt with godets (triangular inserts) can also work well. Tiered skirts used for folkloric or tribal style dance often have hems at least 9.5 metres long, roughly equivalent to a circle and a half, but if the top tier is too long, onto the thigh, it may not move well. This is often the case with tiered 'broomstick' skirts sold as summer skirts, which often do not have enough fabric gathered into the tiers to move well.
• Tops. A good basic is a close-fitting vest top or strappy camisole of fine cotton, poly-cotton, polyester or viscose jersey. This can be paired with a cropped-length tie-top of some sort, in a matching or toning colour. Make sure the tie top is big enough so that it does not ride up over the bust, and you can get a sleeker look with a top which has ties long enough to cross in front and tie at the back. Any T shirt should be close-fitting, with a deep and preferably decorated neckline. The only time I would suggest something 'blousy' would be a folk top with a gathered neckline, full sleeves and some embroidery.
• Trousers. I've seen a lot of trousers described as 'harem pants' recently, but they are really just pull-on trousers with pleating at the waist and a narrow ankle. These can work if they are made in a drapey fabric, otherwise choose some made from a decorative fabric (and more of it!), with elastic at the ankles (and long enough to cover the ankle bone). For tribal fusion, flared jazz pants, perhaps with a small over-skirt, can work well.
• Dresses. Depending on the cut and decoration, an evening gown could double as a cabaret dress. (And a dress galabeya could double as an evening gown.) A simple column or A-line summer dress with a beaded neckline might also work when worn with a matching coin belt.

Now you're in a better position to consider what you need.

Do:

• Think ahead; the earlier you start to plan and put a costume together, the better.
• Be prepared to spend some money at some point. Start a costume fund. It is possible to get a dress galabeya, which could see you through several styles of dance, for around £50.00 (although the way the currency is going at the moment, not for very much longer!).
• Be prepared to have more than one costume if you are going to continue!
• Know your size/measurements and look carefully at descriptions and pictures when buying online.
• Resist buying the first thing which catches your eye because it's cheap and looks like it will do.
• Support your local dance events and buy from souk/bazaar vendors. You get to handle costumes and try them on, and you are often effectively supporting small businesses. If the vendor travels to Cairo (for example), have a chat about the sort of thing you're looking for, what you can afford, size and colour preferences.
• Have a look at internet sites selling professional costumes. With the change in exchange rates, these are far more expensive now, but you might get lucky with a sale, and it will give you ideas.
• Keep an eye on eBay, there are bargains to be had, especially if you happen to be the right size for another dancer's second hand, quality costumes.
• Keep an eye open in charity shops for evening dresses, skirts and tops which could be adapted, and outrageous bling in terms of jewellery, providing it suits the costume you are putting together.
• Reality check. If you sew or can have someone sew for you, re-purposing clothing can work out cheaper, but there is a lot of work in a belly dance costume and you may spend more on the beads and sequins than you'd planned. Have an idea of the cost of fabrics per metre and how much you would need to make a garment from scratch, which is sometimes quicker than making alterations. You might be able to buy a lot of sequins more cheaply than salvaging them off another charity garment. Blingy jewellery which could be used as costume decoration needs either to be removable or in a mount which won't rust.
• Remember that even professional quality costumes often need some adjustment to fit your unique body!

Avoid:

• Harem pants, skirts or dresses with metal coins on as part of the decoration; they will be difficult to wash.
• Costumes which claim to be 'professional' but do not look like anything which, say, Eman or Hoda Zaki, Hanan or Bella would produce.
• Anything marked as one size fits all, unless it really can fit you.
• Anything which seems to have an identity crisis. A quick look through eBay this evening resulted in a lot of yoga, Bollywood and ballroom costumes tagged as belly dance.
• Anything which looks like lingerie/underwear. This includes bras with a decorated front, but still with the stretch straps at the back. (You might get away with it peeping out the front of a tie-top or deep-fronted galabeya, but don't spend money on one unless you are sure it will fit!)

Really Don't:

• Go for Carnival, Halloween or other dress-up costumes - they're not usually designed to be danced in. Yes, that includes that set of  'endless wave' style harem pants with small clusters of beads on the points, halter top and belt smothered in coins and sequins, all for under £18.00. What a bargain, so difficult to resist, even when you suspect that the halter top will not fit (as they even point out that it won't provide full coverage for a B or C cup bust). Shown on a tiny model, it looks lovely. I know someone who bought the pants, and the loosely woven chiffon tore under the weight of the bead clusters (not that they were heavy!) and kept on tearing, before she'd even started dancing. The same goes for cheap 'tourist tat' costumes, especially if the bra cups are shaped like cones or as two circles joined half-way up by a short strap. These often also have some sort of flower, target shape or a tassel on the nipple. Just don't go there.
• Start with accessories. However tempting it is because they are cheap, little elasticated wristlets with coins or a jingly ankle bracelet are the least of your needs and may not suit the style of the costume you're putting together. If anyone wants to buy these for you, encourage them to put a few quid into your costume fund instead!

Happy costume hunting!

Further reading:
You might want to look at a previous post when I was thinking about costuming a couple of years ago.
Shira's website is full of superb information, indispensable reading!