Simples!

Sorry for the cheesy meerkat-ad referencing title, but a couple of my finished knits have certainly been ’simples’ and one of them is, literally, cheesy to boot.  I think my favourite knits must somehow mirror the extreme variations of my weird and unfathomable persona: I like complicated, fiddly lace, sometimes with humongous amounts of bead placing; but I also like totally simple easy-peasy knits, largely featuring garter stitch or plain rib or seed stitch.  That’s not to say that I would want to knit a 6 foot, garter stitch, super-chunky scarf or anything (and then post it as an ‘original’ pattern on Ravelry, with a David Bailey back-lit close-up of a single strand of trendy yarn; miaow ); rather that I like to knit simple things that have a certain je ne sais quoi design quirk about them.

Case in point #1 - the Fringe Cowl (aka my Boho Cowl):

Blimey, how quick a knit this was – it literally took me an evening to knit it, and attach the fringe.  I knitted it exactly as specified with no mods (a bit of seed stitch, then some rib, then a bit more seed stitch in the round; then a bit more seed stitch back and forth), using some luscious Hedgehog Fibres worsted silk/merino in Opalite.  I absolutely love this knit, and it’s been worn non-stop for the past few weeks, in and out of the mansion.  Dearest ma was very taken with it when we visited and requested one for Christmas (I’ve just cast on one for her in the same yarn, shade Hush).  There’s definitely a Fistful of Dollars meets Suzi Quatro feel about the design, but hey, it’s only a matter of time before cheesy fashions come round again, eh?

Talking of cheesy, then there’s Case in point #2: the Swiss Cheese scarf.  Here’s my interpretation…

I’ve knitted it in fingering weight yarn (Hedgehog Fibres merino/bamboo/silk, shade Hurricane), rather than laceweight, so I’ve adjusted the needle size, cast-on stitches, etc, accordingly, and also I’ve knitted a central section purely in garter stitch.  This is basically an incredibly easy pattern (knitting in garter stitch, casting off stitches and then casting them on again), but you have to take care with the appearance of the ‘holes’.  This means, with the casting on and off, that there are some inevitable loose stitches swanning about; but they’re easy to sort out – you just need to check how other Ravellers have dealt with this – a doddle.  The end result, when you’ve washed your scarf and ’blocked’ it (ie hung it on your washing line so that the weight of the wet yarn pulls open the ‘holes’), is just so much more than the sum of its (simples) parts. 

Anyway, thanks for the very nice replies to my last post!  Off to check out some car insurance…

A bit of nearest and dearest

Over the past few weeks I’ve spent: a couple being ill (really nasty cough with a smidgen of head cold, coupled with Igor having a full-on-snot-head); a few days with my benignly-doolally ma, listening to her telling me that my name isn’t really Clare Frances Mary, but rather that my name is Clare Frances. In actual fact, Mary was added due to familial Catholic pressure, as I had been born on the birthday of the Virgin Mary, although my ma has no memory of this and I had to show her my birth certificate for her to be convinced that my name is really CFM, sigh…  And then we spent three days with my mother’s brother, T.

Of all my relatives, T has always been my favourite; he is the reason for my Clarabelle moniker, and also the reason why I survived my childhood.   Although he’s now almost 81, it seems like he’s stuck in an earlier time warp, whereby he’s still sprightly and youthfully naughty.  I spoke to my older sister last week, and we agreed about the indestructibility of T; is it actually possible that our future lives might not include him?  Here he is, posing cheekily last week in front of Clandon Park House:

For heaven’s sake, what can you do with him?

Dearest T has also given me a few photos which he took earlier this year when Igor and I visited.  Out of all the photos that exist of Igor and I, this one is now my fave: it sums up our disparate heights (I’m 5′9″, Igor is 6′2″, though he does look taller than that in this photo, doesn’t he); As well, I love Igor’s camouflage hat; and I love that sense of a not-quite-tactile photographic distance between us.  To be honest, he drives me bonkers most of the time, but I still need to try to acknowledge in a sane sense all those years we’ve been together..  And as far as knitting goes, I’m wearing my Windward hat.

Getting up to date, I have my Swiss Cheese scarf finished and I’ll post photos very soon.  My son and his lovely girlf (who knits as CollyB on Rav) were here this weekend.  In another exposure of my nearest and dearest, here’s a recent photo of my luvverly boy, Luke, in typical stance, in Berlin:

Chip off the old block, eh?

The not-so-snappy jacket

Thank you so much for the replies to my last couple of posts.  It was interesting to see what readers thought about my pattern conundrum re: the wool/cashmere chunky I bought in Donegal.  I think the first few comments seemed to favour the Cropped Jacket, which I just slightly favoured too, so I guess it was an easy choice.  Anyway, I got quickly to knitting and, as with knitting a thicker yarn than I would usually use, I kind of forgot how quickly it would knit up.  I think I actually finished the knitting element in 4 days; Igor and I have been indisposed over the past week or two with some sort of vile lurgy (bad head cold/cough/slight fluey feel to it/the dreaded swine?), so I’ve felt, and looked, pretty rough.  But I’ve not been rough enough not to knit.  Household duties I have baulked at and the autumnal garden looks very much in need of care and attention; but they will have to wait.

And so I finished the knit in double-quick time, but it’s taken me as long again to sew on 6 snap-on popper things and 6 buttons.  I left the jacket in prominent view on my dining table, so that I couldn’t escape the fact that it just needed these few extra bits and bobbles to finish it.  But having been raised by a mother who was mad on all things sewing (I think I spent most of my early life, yawning in utter boredom in some sewing machine shop or other, while my mum hummed and hawed over the Bernina or the Singer), and being bolshie enough to feel the need to be the total opposite of my mum, then that basically means that I hate sewing.  I really do.  But when things come to this…

… then I know that I need to galvanise myself into action.  I think that, out of the 6 poppers that I had to sew on, I sewed 4 of them on the wrong way and had to redo them.  The f-word has been reverberating around the mansion for the past couple of days.  It took me an actual age just to work out how to sew the blinking things on to start with (does the pointy part have to be on the receiving end? is it best that the skinnier bit of the popper is sewn on on the bottom or the top?).  Basically, I know that this was a subliminal ploy on my part not to have to do this annoying job.  Mother – where are you!  (My mum, at my overbearing and bossy behest, spent most of my teens cutting open the bottoms of my jeans, almost to the knee,  and sewing a triangle of psychodelic fabric therein.  She says it was the bane of her life at the time, but I know really that, as a seasoned seamstress, she loved it, haha!) 

Anyway, where was I?  yes, the Cropped Jacket (and it’s not so cropped – I’ve knitted it a bit longer, more to waist length).  I’ve called it Donegal Jacket, as I’m using the lovely wool/cashmere yarn I bought in Donegal in September; The yarn has the firmness of a pure new wool, plus the velvetty feel of the cashmere – it’s very nice stuff.  A selection of photos, some OK, some not so good.  The not-so-good ones feature my puffy face (I’m finally seeing the maxillo-facial people next Friday… Mother, where are you!):

A Flash Dance in the pan

Some not terribly good photos of my Audra Cabled Wrap, finished the other day:

I’m not wholly happy with this knit: perhaps the yarn isn’t drapey enough (although the Donegal Tweed is built for cabling, rather than draping).  To be honest, I knitted this cape because I loved the way the cables looked in the pattern.  I still do, but I’m a bit concerned about the way the lower, wider cables look: mine seem to have a sort of crease in them and I thought it must just be me, and the way I’ve knitted them.  But when I’ve checked with the original, there seems to be that crease there too.  I dunno – I’m not a seasoned cable knitter, but I just don’t quite like how they look.  As well as this, I had intended this cape to be worn over my (go on, laugh)  John Rocha leather jacket (NB: I got it much cheaper than that).  The jacket, much sniggered over by my dear daughters, isn’t particularly warm, so I thought a cape (supposedly a trendy piece of clothing to be worn atm?) over the jacket might make it wearable for a few months more.  BUT: I put on my leather jacket… and then I put the Cabled Wrap over the top… and then, I asked Igor what he thought…

Gaah.  OK, I’m happy to admit that I’ve been wrong about the whole thing.  Knitters make mistakes; they pick the wrong patterns for their shape, they get the completely wrong yarn for the pattern, et cetera, et bleeding cetera.  But what the hecky-peck, capes are trendy apparently: one of my daughters will claim Audra, blast her… it was almost like she was doomed from the start.  Irene Cara, eat your 80s heart out.  

Choices, choices

I’ve just finished my Cabled Wrap and it’s washed and drying at the moment, so no photos of that quite yet.  But I have a choice to make between two cardigan/jacket patterns I like, using the wool/cashmere chunky I bought in Donegal.  The first one is this, the Drop Collar Cabled Jacket from Debbie Bliss:

And then there’s the Cropped Jacket from Vogue Knitting:

I really like both these jackets and I think the yarn would suit either.  The Cropped Jacket has a slight edge for me in that it is knitted in one piece, though there is more feedback on Ravelry about the Debbie Bliss pattern, which is always helpful.  I know that a solution would be to knit both jackets (which I will probably do), but it’s which would best suit my precious Donegal yarn?  Any thoughts or suggestions?

And thanks for your comments on the last ‘existential angst’ post; I think what I was trying to say in a particularly shambolic type of way is:

1.  I’m very aware of the swift passing of time at the moment.  This could be symptomatic of the fact that I actually have more time on my hands (with which to watch time passing swiftly by, duh) and that I’m getting older.  I find myself pondering the past quite a bit, with all its inevitable highs and lows, and looking to the future, with all its inevitable uncertainty, when I feel I should be living in the moment a bit more.  And the thing about information technology passing me by comes in there somewhere.  I think.

2.  Thanks to the über-religiosity (?word) of my early life, I’m unable to escape Catholic guilt.  I feel incredibly lucky to be in a position not to have to work for pay anymore, where I can enjoy my hobbies and generally slob about, but at the same time, I feel guilty about it and feel I should be doing something more ‘worthwhile’ with my time (you know, the ‘time’ that’s zooming past me at a rate of knots).  And yes, I can pick this argument apart to my heart’s content (knitting is worthwhile/productive, etc/I could do charity knitting if I’m that bothered, etc/who cares anyway, you silly mare, etc).  Off to don my hair shirt and walk barefoot to the Vatican.

Looking forward to your thoughts about my pattern conundrum…

It’s suddenly occurred…

…to me that I don’t understand what Twitter is about (I understand that it’s a concept of saying something about what one is doing ‘in a sentence’, and then people reply, but I don’t understand who’s saying what, how and why), I have no idea (really and truly) what an ipod is and how it might enhance my life, and I have absolutely no understanding about downloading music from the internet, other than it’s going to cost me loadsofmoney.  It seems that a massive revolution of communication technology has just been passing me by, even though I’ve been aware of it, but still I’ve been aware of feeling that I’m not too bothered.

What I want to do is read a book (ie something that I can hold in my hands), watch an old edition of Eastenders on the telly, and then listen to The Stones’ ‘Black and Blue’,

… and then after that, Joni Mitchell’s ‘Court and Spark’, both via ancient LPs.

It’s also suddenly occurred to me that, even though I knit loads of stuff for my family members (whether they want it or not, haha), I’m going through this strange yarn/knitting lunacy at the moment.  It’s almost like I’m thinking, here am I, luckily not having to work anymore, not hard up, living in a nice enough mansion, spending most of my spare time knitting.  I’m thinking, what else is there?  Is it enough that I’ve worked hard all my life? 

What does my knitting mean?

Star-gazing

I seem to be knitting things that are difficult to photograph at the moment: my long-term knit, Starry Night, is particularly difficult.  I suppose it’s partly because: I’m knitting with black yarn, notoriously difficult to photograph; the sparkliness of the beads evades/confuses my rubbish camera; and natural light has been poor recently here on the eastern fringes of the UK.  I’m making progress though – here are a couple of heavily-Photoshopped shots:

I’m using Mama Ocllo Baby Alpaca with Silk laceweight, which I bought very cheaply from Knit ‘n’ Caboodle.  I haven’t seen this yarn anywhere else and it’s actually very lovely, soft and sheeny with that bit of alpaca fluffiiness.  The beads I’m using are size 6/0 in the following colours: black for all the main beading, and silver, bronze, opal, cobalt, teal, white, gold, blue-purple, for my starry motifs.  I’m not sure if stars are really any of these colours.

My other difficult-to-photograph knit is my Cabled Wrap (aka Audra).  I would have called this knit Audra if it hadn’t been for the name-association with someone I encountered many moons ago when I was at uni (I’ve explained my consequent aversion to the name on my project page on Rav, so I won’t repeat it here.  Suffice to say, it was one of those ‘The Office’ moments).  Anyway, here’s the best photo I have to offer at the mo:

I’m not usually a big cable fan, but I love how these cables look, almost like a ripple effect.  I also love this yarn I bought in Donegal – it has the most yummy chunks of rust and cream in it.

And à propos of nowt much, a balcony update: I was thinking today, what is it about a balcony that makes looking at one’s surroundings so different?  I stepped out onto it yesterday during a brief moment when the rain wasn’t falling; the sun suddenly came out and there was this amazing universe-spanning rainbow:

 

I thought, well, I could walk out of my back door into the garden and see the exact same thing, but somehow this balcony makes the view different and special.  I can’t put my finger on it yet, but I’ll work it out.

Garden produce

Hidcote Garden is finished.  I can’t pretend that I wasn’t thrilled to have cast the shawl off (it took almost an hour!); but when I took the blocking pins and wires off this morning, I was quite transfixed by how lovely it looked in all its shimmering silvery-silkiness:

The measurements are 88″ across the top and 45″ down the spine: a biggie.  I’m not quite sure if I’ll get an invite anytime soon for something that requires a ball-gown and accompanying shawl, so in the meantime, I’ll admire its laciness, fondle its silkiness, and ponder a recipient.

And I’m still on the case with the ’spanking-new-kitchen’ phenomenon, baking and bottling like mad.  We’ve had loads of chillies in the greenhouse this year, all about 4 or 5 inches long (I’ve grown them from seed and can’t remember the variety):

I’ve been making chilli sauce today, using tomatoes also from the greenhouse.  The recipe is one I’ve used before and it makes a really good chilli puree which keeps well.  Of course, the whole secret of anything chilli-ish is having nice hot chillies involved.  I know these ones are hot because 5 hours after making quite a few jars of this,

… my fingertips are still hot and tingly from chopping up the chillies.  Luckily, I managed not to rub my eyes; otherwise my head would have separated from my body, zoomed off into hyperspace and I wouldn’t have been able to write this post. 

Missing the link

I seem to be going through a phase of ‘missing’ things lately, ie in terms of not noticing something that’s staring me full-on in the face; for a start, there’s the Hidcote Garden shawl which I’ve been knitting for the past couple of months.  In my last post I alluded to the length of time it’s taking me to knit a row, now that I’ve reached the edging chart.  The funny thing is, I’ve known that it’s a whopper of a shawl and read the huge finished dimensions, but I don’t think any of this has really permeated my consciousness.  As I’ve turned each page of the pattern, I’ve gone “holymoly! another chart?”, and then I’ve blanched as I’ve seen that I still have another eleventy-million charts to plough through.  The shawl has grown and expanded in my hands, and although it’s really quite difficult to appreciate the size of an unblocked piece of lace, I’ve been aware that Hidcote Garden is the most mahoosive shawl I’ve ever knitted: ’tis a Garden of immense acreage.

But then, as this silky grey mass of yarn has undergone some sort of binary fission,  I’ve started to think: what the heckypeck am I going to do with a shawl this big?  I mean, I like to have a few biggish shawls (Muir is quite a biggie and a particular fave – it came to Donegal with me), but I haven’t knitted anything on quite this scale before.  Perhaps I could use it as a shroud? a lacy (and thereby useless) parachute? a wedding veil with attached train?  Hmm, no hope of that last one with daughters like mine, but… maybe the grand-girls… hmmm  (segue forward 20 years):

Grand-girl:  “Hi, Gran! Tarquin and I are getting married!  So exciting, yaah!  We’re trying to think of colour schemes for the wedding next month in Antigua.  Any ideas, old dearie?”

Clarabelle: “Gosh, a wedding in our family!  Bucking the trend of the past two generations then!  As for colour schemes… weeeell, how about silver grey?  I just might have a ginormous, unworn piece of lace I knitted 20 years ago that might do as a beautiful wedding veil…” 

Grand-girl: “Errm… (snigger), thanks for the suggestion, Gran, but I think we’ll go for cerise and lime green – you know, like that freaky neon cardigan you knitted me when I was little…”

Photos of the finished Hidcote very soon.

Another thing that’s been staring me in the face recently (on Ravelry, that is) is my Morning Glory shawl.  Somehow on this new blog, I’ve wittered on about Ireland, how Igor always needs to be in the lead, my kitchen/balcony, and lots of other knits, but poor old Morning Glory has dropped off the edge of Flat Earth.  I’ve had this pattern in my Ravelry queue for yonks, but only recently got around to knitting it.  This is mainly because I’m not too keen on knitting lace in a yarn as heavy as DK: but I got some lovely Scrumptious DK from Fyberspates and immediately I thought of knitting this pattern.  It was quite a tricky pattern for me (lots of patterning on the wrong sides), but at least the edging was part of the overall pattern, rather than knitted on.  Actually, I was originally knitting this for my ma’s birthday, but then I realised that a button-up wrap would be much easier for her to wear at the mo with her shoulder problem. I might still gift this to someone for Christmas:

     

The waiting game

Some photos of my newly-refurbished upstairs kitchen (the flash isn’t working on my camera, so I’ve had to photoshop them, I’m afraid):

 

The colours (which don’t show up terribly well, due the flash problem) are pale blues, greys, cream and black.  The worktops were the most expensive part by far – some sort of acrylic stuff - and the marble tiles (an opalescent pale blue/grey) strained the purse strings too.  Still I’ve waited yonks to have a kitchen like this:

Our old kitchen was done on the cheap when all the kids were still at home.  We also had an old codger of a kitchen fitter who wanted to fit a kitchen that he wanted, rather than one that I (um, the customer) wanted.  Case in point #1: the ‘extra’ unit: 

Clarabelle, about 12 years ago:  “I’d really like an extra free-standing kitchen unit here, up against this wall, please”.

Mr Curmudgeon, the kitchen fitter: “Oh no, you haven’t got room for that – you’d have no space to move”.

CB: “But… I’ve already got a table here as a makeshift worktop, and there’s plenty of room”.

Mr Curmudgeon: “Sorry, I’m not putting one in”.

Haha, Mr Kitchen-Fitter, I now have one: it fits fine, there’s plenty of room and I’ve got extra cupboards and worktop.  Yaa-boo!

Case in point #2: the worktops.

Mr Curmudgeon shows Clarabelle a selection of worktops to choose from:

CB: “I’d like this black marble-effect one please”.

Mr Curmudgeon: “Oh no, you can’t have that one.”

CB: “Err, why not?”

Mr Curmudgeon: “Well, it doesn’t go with the units; the green one is the one you want”.

CB: “So why are you offering me a choice? And I don’t happen to want the green one!”

…etc, etc.  I was at work full-time then, with four teenage children at home, and the last thing I could cope with was this pocket tyrant invading my space.  I accepted a kitchen I didn’t like very much.

So I’m dead chuffed with my new kitchen and the fact that the kitchen fitters were really good blokes this time, and didn’t look askance at me and shake their heads when I said how I wanted things to be.  And, as with all things that are bright and shiny-new, you kind of get enthused by them; so in this case, I’m in the mood for cooking and baking and bottling.  Some jams, chutneys and pickled onions (Igor’s fave), posing on the ‘forbidden’ kitchen unit – horrors!

Finished knits are also something which I’m going to have to wait for at the moment: my Hidcote shawl is progressing well, but it’s now got to the point that each row is taking an age to work through (the finished shawl is supposed to measure 90″ by 44″).  So I start a row, and by the end of it I notice I have another liver spot on the back of my hand.  And after the next row, I find I’m wearing wrinkly support stockings.  And after the next one, the old folks’ bus has arrived to take me to bingo.  I will prevail; I’m enjoying knitting the pattern nonetheless.

My other super-slow knit is Kieran Foley’s Harry Clarke shawl, which I’ve just cast on for.  If Hidcote is slow to knit, then this baby is like time in reverse.  There are loads of beads to place, and the only way I can knit this at the mo is sitting at my dining table, with the pattern, the beads and the crochet hook all in a stable position.  It’s absolute stop/start knitting, but the result is just so fab as the clusters of beads begin to take shape:

Kieran has designed his after being inspired by some stained-glass, but I decided to knit mine with a twinkly night sky in mind.  Talking of which, this is the dawn sky taken from the balcony (lovelovelove) the other day: