Two weeks ago we had peak bluebells here and I couldn’t resist putting up some bluebell photos. Since some of you went out of your way to say that I wasn’t boring you with flower shots, today I’m here to show you wisteria.
It is definitely peak wisteria this week. In fact, it must be peak spring, as everything has burst into a spectacular display of colour and fragrance.
These photos were taken today at Grey’s Court (the same place where I took the bluebell photos). The wisteria here is 130 years old and is simply breath-taking.
Grey’s Court have had a wisteria watch on social media and must have put out the word that today was the day – with the blossoms in full bloom and the skies clear and blue, the place was packed. However, we live nearby and can walk in, and as National Trust members we frequently walk the grounds here.
Here, Doug took a photo of me taking a photo of him:
It’s impossible to capture the full lushness of the experience, but you get the idea.
I love that you can walk under the wisteria.
The photo below doesn’t have wisteria, but it is a nice shot of me wearing my Treit tee, knitted from a Kate Davies pattern (and which I blogged here). So, if you are only here for the knitting, I am throwing up Trait to appease you. (I love this project to bits and am thinking of doing another; wouldn’t it look great in a wisteria-purple?)
I have both bluebells and wisteria blooming in my back garden, so I’m off to do some knitting while the sun is shining.
Last weekend was the Henley Arts Trail, a yearly event in which artists local to Henley-on-Thames open up their homes and studios for the weekend, and showcase (and hopefully sell) their work. It is great fun, both for the opportunity of being exposed to artists in a friendly way, and also for getting to see some wonderful spaces. Doug and I try to go every year. This year, we hit 13 locations and purchased pieces from 6 different artists.
At the very first stop we went to, I saw this restored chest and instantly knew it was the solution to my knitting needle storage problem:
First, let’s talk about the chest; isn’t it lovely? The artist, Sue Davies, specializes in “Painted furniture, Shabby Chic, Murals, and Painted Furniture Workshops”. Look at the stenciling on the side of the chest:
And here I am to give you an idea of the size:
I have written numerous times over the year on the problems of storage for all of the paraphernalia which we knitters tend to collect. (We won’t even touch on yarn storage here.) My most recent post on this topic was this one, written earlier this year, in which I included some photos of my large and messy collection of knitting needles. Like this one:
Consider that horrible mess, and then look at this beautiful chest; doesn’t it get the little grey cells activated?
Just look at my knitting needles now, displayed in the drawers of my beautiful new chest.
Let’s go through them, one at a time.
Drawer 1. This is for fixed circular needles and straight needles, sized US9/5.5mm and above.
Drawer 2. Here I have my fixed circular needles and straight needles, sized US8/5mm and below.
Drawer 3. This contains my Knit Pro Karbonz interchangeable needles and my micrometer (for accurately measuring needle width).
Below is a closeup of the set and the open micrometer box. (The needle set is complete, but not all are in the box right now).
Draw 4: This contains my Chia Goo interchangeable needles. These are my most used needles. I reach for these all of the time. I have many sets of the needles in most sizes, and multiple cables.
Below you can see the inside of the carrying pouch. Note that lots of these needles are currently on WIPs, so this isn’t the complete set.
Drawer 5. This contains all of my DPNs, short fixed circulars, cable needles, stitch holders, crochet hooks, and various doodads (to use a technical term).. The DPNs are only partially sorted, but at least they are now all in one space.
Included in there is a lovely soft knitting case, which also contains DPNs and doodads, and here you can see the inside:
Drawer 6: This drawer has no knitting needles but contains lots of extra stuff like buttons, ribbon, measuring tapes, stitch markers, pins, etc.
Isn’t it wonderful? Not only is it ORGANISED (sacre bleu!), but it’s beautiful! I know that I still have hidden stashes of needles all over the place, but now, when I find them, I have a sensible place to put them. (Doug wants to know if I will still be able to find a size 5 needle when I need one. Oh, ye of little faith!)
I hope you are enjoying something beautiful this weekend.
Upon finishing my “We do so hate to be bored” tee, I struggled to pick up another project. I had a few things on the needles, which have been in hibernation, but none of them was saying “Knit me! Knit me!” I really wanted to start a cardigan with the Road to China Light yarn which Doug gave me for Christmas (not last year but the year before), but I am annoyed at that project. I plan to write a post about that soon with the title “The case of the lost yarn swatches”; clever readers will be able to figure out the source of my annoyance.
In the meantime, I desultorily kept going with my Gresham Wrap. The reason I am not enthused about it has nothing to do with the wrap itself, which is fun and pretty, but rather with the fact that the cream-coloured portion in the middle goes on FOREVER and furthermore is basically knitted in ribbing (it has a textured stitch which is the equivalent of knitting every second row in 1×1 ribbing). I have decided it is the TV knitting project and so I am slowly making progress; unfortunately for it, I am not much interested in watching TV. Here is a nice photo of it curled up in its place on the couch, catching the morning sun:
When we returned from Wales, I found a giant pile of yarn on my doorstep:
I recently took part in Kate Davies newest club and she gives a 10% discount during the club for any purchases from her store. I waited until the very last minute to place an order, both so that I could see each new design before committing and also because I couldn’t make up my mind. I ended up ordering kits for three projects (none of them from the current club):
Collar de Pilar:
All of this luscious yarn will certainly keep my needles busy all year. However, when I was deciding what to cast on next, my Linum yarn from The Uncommon Thread jumped out at me. The yarn is a blend of 50% baby alpaca, 25%linen, and 25% silk. I pre-ordered it last summer and by the time it arrived, summer was over so I put it aside.
I can’t even describe how beautiful this yarn feels, and once I had knitted a swatch, I knew I had to cast on immediately. It is so lovely and the feel of it is fantastic: light and airy, it weighs nothing and is so soft.
Today, I tried it on just to make sure the fit was right, and it is perfect! Here you can see the shoulder:
Doug took a photo of the back and said “Are these stitches supposed to be falling off the needle?”
Argh! I shifted the stitches onto a long needle before trying it on, and still managed to lose some stitches. Thankfully, I have a husband who actually notices things like that!
I am so into this one. Doug is now making noises in the background: “Why can’t you knit a tee shirt for me?” etc etc. I dare anyone to touch this swatch and not want one.
Doug is cooking dinner and by the yummy aromas emanating from the kitchen it is nearly done! Good knitting everyone!
I intended to write a post last week about the process involved in planning and executing my latest project. But the truth is, I was feeling fairly burned out and needed a respite. Sitting on a warm and sunny beach somewhere while reading books and drinking cocktails sounded pretty nice, but that would involve getting on a plane during the crowded and covid-impacted Easter holiday, which we were determined to avoid. So instead, we drove to Wales for some respite and a change of scenery. I actually managed to leave my laptop at home, and not once did I look at either my email or the news.
Above is a photo of Doug, standing in the front garden of our B&B (this was a return visit to The Royston) at around 8 in the evening as dusk is starting to fall. It is a very lovely and peaceful spot. You can’t see it in the photo, but just to the left of where Doug is standing, are two chairs around a fire pit, where you can sit and enjoy this view. That is where I spent the next afternoon, doing a bit of knitting in the sun.
I hesitate to admit that this is the only time I did any knitting on the entire trip. I also read only one book. Mostly we walked, admired beautiful scenery, breathed deep, and slept 10 hours a night. We went on some great walks. This one was in Snowdownia National Park, near Dolgellau:
It was so lush and green, and peaceful. We walked for hours without passing anyone.
The trail ran along the sides of a ravine, with a river below. The only sound you could hear was that of the river rushing.
We had a lovely adventure when the GPS in the car told us to take a short cut to the seashore, which involved driving through an abandoned slate mine and then on a long track which progressed through a multitude of livestock gates, through country like this:
The lambs did not understand right-of-way:
The seashore was a bit cold and grey but you could walk for miles along the coastal path.
Here is a great stretch of nearly empty beach:
This little steam train ran along the beach, on the other side of the dunes:
We really got a kick out of this brightly painted cinema in the town of Tywyn:
Which is also where Doug grabbed this funny shot:
We spent 4 days up in that part of Wales, near Snowdownia, and then drove to Hay-on-Wye where we stayed for another few days. I had always wanted to visit Hay, which is a spot for book lovers; the town hosts a world famous yearly literary festival, and is home to 38 used book stores. Hay turned out to be a bit too touristy for me (perhaps because it was Easter weekend). It had some funky shops, like this one:
We spent an afternoon wandering through a few of the many book shops. We particularly liked the poetry book shop, where we bought some lovely old and quirky volumes of poetry, and in another shop bought two classic cookbooks from 1961 (the year I was born) and a few books on food writing. We had a fantastic dinner in Hay, at Chapters. If you plan to visit Hay and want to eat there, book well in advance!
We were quite happy that we had not booked a place to stay in the town, instead opting for nearby Glasbury. We spent a fantastic day walking at the National Trust property Begwyns. The website says: “It is possible to see almost the entire Brecon Beacons National Park from the Roundabout, hence all of the views none of the climb.” They are certainly right about the views, which are spectacular, but being not so fit, Doug and I felt that they weren’t entirely honest about there not being a climb.
The Roundabout is a circular, walled piece of forest, at the top of a wide sweep of mostly empty land with views in every direction. You can see it above, and here is a shot from closer up:
In the photo below, I am sitting on a bench in the Roundabout, looking out at one section of the view. You can walk around the walled fence and as far as you can see in every direction are beautiful, rolling hills.
It’s hard to capture an image of the sense of space out there. The sky feels very big and makes you feel very small.
I love the shot below, which has Doug on the left, and a lone tree on the right:
What a beautiful place to take your horse for a ride!
We are now back home and I can’t help but notice that home looks…..well, not unlike Wales! I took the below photo this morning just a few miles from my home:
Hee hee! We could have saved some money by staying home, but then that pesky laptop would have been calling to me, and I would have undoubtedly succumbed to answering emails. Today, the bluebells are at their absolute best, and this part of the world is gorgeous and covered in blankets of the purple wildflowers. Those of you who are long-term readers of this blog may be thinking “Oh no, not more bluebell photos!”, but I couldn’t resist. Besides I am fairly sure that I didn’t post any for the last two years.
These were taken on our walk this morning.
Individually, they are such dainty little flowers, but once they congregate, they become fairly majestic.
I had originally called this post “Wales, walks, wool, wildflowers” and I was going to show you a bunch of wool and knitting photos. But instead, I think I will save those for another time.
Last August, I was lazing around, reading through a bunch of knitting and book blogs (as one does). I came upon a post about knitting the fandoms – patterns and projects based on various comic book, sci fi, or fantasy franchises. In the post, they review a book of Star Wars-based knitting patterns and also showcase some Dr. Who and DC Comics projects. I myself have knitted a Tolkien-based project in the past, which I blogged extensively in these pages (the latest post is here, with links to the previous posts).
I clicked onto the next blog on my reading list, this one written by the husband and wife writing duo, Ilona Andrews. They write urban fantasy novels, which combine some sci fi, a bit of romance, a little magic, a bunch of scary monsters, fun world-building, and generally kick-ass protagonists. They are very popular, have written at least six separate series, and have a wildly devoted fan base who call themselves the Book Devouring Horde (the BDH). I immediately had the thought “What would a knitted piece of Ilona Andrews fan art look like?” And a fully formed picture of such a pattern popped instantly into my head! It would look like this:
Well, that was in August, and it took me some months to get around to knitting it, but I can happily say that I have now finished and I think it looks pretty cool. “But what does it mean?”, you may ask (thus proving yourself to not be a card-carrying member of the BDH). In the Hidden Legacy series, the super bad guy – who is known as Caesar – causes chaos while his identity remains secret. The only clue that readers have to his identity is in the very last scene of the the third book, in which he has a conversation with a fellow plotter. It is the first time he appears on page, and he says “We do so hate to be bored”. It is, in fact, the last line of the book. The BDH are busily engaged in wild speculation as to Caesar’s identity, which will hopefully be revealed in the next book, and this clue is central to the debate.
As the months went by and this pattern idea continued to percolate in my head, I realised that I liked it more and more, because this statement is a very truthful one, in ways completely orthogonal to Ilona Andrews and fandom knitting. I find that the line “We do so hate to be bored” has two very powerful meanings for me, both of which I suspect will resonate with many of you.
First, it appeals to me as a maker, as someone engaged in creative activity. I think this statement could be seen to define those of us who see ourselves as artists, inventors, creators; we do hate to be bored. We like to create things with our minds and our bodies – be it knitting, sewing, dancing, painting, cooking. Putting together the flights of fancy of my imagination, the know-how of my hands and fingers, the magic of yarn and needles, and the gift of knitting heritage, I can make something new and unique – and in doing so, I am not bored.
The second meaning has become clear to me through two years of this pandemic, and it is that we, as human beings, need connections. We need interactions, we need to engage. We need to keep our brains busy. Lockdowns have taught us that we hate to be bored. It is a deeply felt part of what it is to be human. When we are bored, we stagnate.
If you see me on the street in my new jumper, you can nod your head and think “yes, I’m with her; I do so hate to be bored.” Or, if you happen to be a card-carrying member of the BDH, give me a wave. I have my theory about who Caesar is and I’d be happy to debate it with you.
We took these photos this morning in Henley-on-Thames. It is still cold but it is gloriously sunny and people were enjoying being out and about. This is the first time in a while that I have knitted a sweater which I designed myself. For those who are interested in the creative process and/or the technical details, I will write it up and put it in a separate post, which I hope to publish in a week or two. (We are spending next week in Wales, taking a much-needed break, which may effect that timeline.) In the meantime, I wish you all a lovely, non-boring weekend!
This week I travelled to Copenhagen on business. I flew in on Tuesday, was scheduled to teach all day Wednesday and Thursday, and would then fly back to Heathrow on Thursday evening. I always stay in the same hotel, a few blocks from where I teach. I take the train from the airport to the Metro station closest to my hotel (Nørreport Station) where there just happens to be a very nice yarn shop. Every time I come or go from the hotel, I pass the yarn shop. This is just one of the perks of teaching in Copenhagen (the other is, of course, Copenhagen).
When I arrived at the Station on Tuesday, carrying my suitcase and briefcase, I realised that the yarn shop (Ulstedet) was closing in 30 minutes and furthermore, I wouldn’t be able to stop in again on this trip because I would be working the whole time. I stopped in, lugging my bags with me, and spent 30 minutes happily browsing. I am pleased to tell you that I resisted the call of the siren, and managed to escape without buying anything, despite being tempted by a lovely wall of silk mohair in luscious shades. (This also allowed me to justify the lobster bisque, grilled langoustine, and lovely wine I ordered that night when I met up with my friend, Erun.)
On Thursday morning when I woke up, I had a message from British Airways telling me that my flight was cancelled and that they had booked me on the next available flight, leaving at 7am on Friday morning. This caused no small amount of chaos. I will not bore you with all of the details, except to say that it was stressful. On the other hand, after I finished my teaching day, thanks to the clocks having changed and my flight being cancelled, I was able to take a walk through the King’s Garden. It was a glorious day in Copenhagen – very cold and frosty, but also sunny with crisp, blue skies.
You can just see the bluebells starting to bloom in the photo above. Despite being bundled up in my winter coat, spring was clearly on the way.
I also had time – can you guess? – to go back to Ulstedet and look at yarn. Despite again being called by the wall of silk mohair in beautiful colours, I resisted. I then sat at an outside table at the market (cold but sunny) and had a quick meal. While there, I texted with my friend June (here is her blog) and bragged about resisting the lure of yarn for a second time.
The next day, I woke up at 4:45am (3:45 UK time) in order to make it to my flight. I got up, dressed and packed, and was just walking out the door when I noticed an email from British Airways saying that they had cancelled my re-booked flight and had re-re-booked me for a flight the next day. I kid you not! Curses on you, British Airways!
Now I ask you: what would you do if your flight was cancelled not once, but TWICE? If you answered “Buy some yarn”, then you understand.
It’s like the universe was telling me to buy yarn. Shouldn’t we listen when the universe talks to us? Especially when it tells us to buy 12 balls of Gepard Kid Seta in a rich, vibrant coral (shade 1008)?
I saw this on an email from The Fibre Co, where they were advertising the start of a KAL (knit-a-long) of this sporty pullover. I love the lines on this, and think it looks really sharp and fresh. It is knit using The Fibre Co Cirro, which looks like a mohair, but which is composed of 40% camelid alpaca suri, 40% cotton, and 20% merino wool. I received a skein of Cirro as part of a goody bag at the knitting retreat I attended in the fall (blogged here) and it is pretty lush. A sweater like this, knitted in Cirro, will weigh next to nothing and be soft and fluffy without having any potential problems with itchiness that mohair might lend. I love Renée’s work and I think she really scores with this one. Here is another shot so that you can see how great the contrasting lines are:
I have been waiting for this pattern to be released since I saw the first test project posted up on Ravelry. I love this! I am always looking for a classic jacket pattern that will look effortlessly stylish at work, but still have the comfort level of a favourite cardigan. This one looks easy to make too – knitted top-down, without seams, and with fantastic mosaic stitchwork for the sleeve detailing (Two of my all-time favourite projects are knitted using mosaic patterns – my Ormolu pullover, blogged here, and my Sofi Jacket, blogged here.) The only problem I see with this pattern is trying to decide which colour combos to use – I love it in black and white, but could easily see it in a shocking pink and lipstick red. Which would you pick?
Rachel Illsley has been turning out one knockout pattern after another these days. This one came out in February and there have been two others published since then – all of them lovely. My biggest problem was deciding which one to show you here. Her patterns incorporate engaging rhythms (many are based on instrumental works) and have a dreamy look reminiscent of watercolour paintings. Plus, surprisingly, there are only two colours used here – no ends to weave in at the end! Brilliant!
I fooled you, didn’t I? Yes, I – Miss “I-don’t-knit-socks” – have fallen for a sock pattern. (We shall ignore a semantic discussion of whether slippers are socks; they are both worn on the feet and that’s good enough for me.) Aren’t these fantastic? On the pattern page, the description reads: “Have you ever thought, “You know what these feet need? More octopus.” If you have, or if you’re just thinking that now, then these are the slippers for you.” I love that, too. And if you are not convinced yet, just look at the soles (below). I dare you not to smile.
This weekend has flown by. I hope that you managed to catch it before it zoomed past.
I had a grand plan to write a newsy post this weekend. And then I decided I would rather knit than write. But I will show you a teaser photo of my new project:
I have finished the front and back, and washed and blocked them. Now I have the sleeves (which will be short – this is a tee-shirt) and the neckline ribbing and finishing to go. It is super fun to be designing a sweater myself; I haven’t done that in a while.
I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t turn down a 5-minute virtual woodland escape right now, especially when it involves gorgeous embroidered sculptures. The Guardian published a pictorial article called Embroidered sculptures of woodland treasures – in pictures a few weeks ago, showcasing the beautiful work of Amanda Cobbett.
Isn’t this exquisite? Both the attention to detail and the execution are superb.
The article quotes the artist:
“When you’re out in the forest, it’s the tiny detail that makes me want to be there as much as the bigger picture,” she says. “It’s really important to take note of these things, because if at some point they disappear, and we don’t know that they exist, how will we know when they’ve gone?”
This statement really resonates for me right now!
Below is another piece, and you can see more in the article linked above. And if this captures your fancy, then you must check out Amanda Cobbett’s webpage, here, which is gobsmacking (although be forewarned that this will expand your 5-minute virtual woodland escape into a veritable holiday of crafty goodness.)
I hope that you enjoyed a short break and took the time to take a deep breath and to appreciate both nature and craftsmanship.