Back at it

Yesssss the scissors are out again!!

One dress-length fluorescent striped Sutton blouse hack, coming right up!

In other news, knitting.

I'll spare you the story of why there is a sofa in front of the door to the garden.

I started the sweater - in fact I liked starting it so much, I did it about 4 times until I got a gauge I was happy with. 

It starts with a neckline welt, which reminded me how much I love provisional cast ons. Such a clever thing! You know what else I love? That on Ravelry, you can use "provisional cast on" as a pattern search criteria. (Yes I know that should be 'criterion' but it just sounds weird). On Ravelry you can use almost anything as as a search criterion (ok fine, inner grammer nazi). You want free patterns for socks knit sideways with a provisional cast on in Estonian, sorted in order of hotness? Take your pick.

Also this week, I blocked a cowl and maxed out my credit card paying the security deposit for a motorhome rental. The next time I tried to order some yarn - and it wasn't even much, less than 20 euros!! - my payment was refused. NOOOOOOOOOO.  Holidays are all well and good, as is budgeting properly, I suppose. But GAH. A pattern pdf here and there never broke the bank - however a month without paypal might just break ME. 

On which I shall leave you, contemplating just exactly what that says about the health of my online purchasing habits #ugh

Follow

Today we had nothing to do

Today we had nothing to do. For the first time in months, there were no looming deadlines, no Lists of Stuff To Get Done, there was nowhere at all we needed to be.  There's no school tomorrow. Work is heading into July quietly. I woke up this morning with the summer stretching out before me - blissfully filled with absolutely Nothing. At. All. (Except all the actual things it is filled with, but those are FUN and include - but are not limited to - a trip to Plovdiv, Bulgaria, and three weeks in the Highlands of Scotland with a campervan. Bring it!)

Anyway, I marked this momentously Nothing of a day by quietly realising that I have been struck with a case of startitis.  I'm waiting on an order of little tiny needles with which to knit socks, and some longer-but-still-quite-tiny needles with which to knit a cowl, and this morning I decided that I just didn't want to wait for them to arrive. I wanted to start knitting.

So I did. Throwing reason and caution to the wind, I picked some yarn that has been waiting to be a jumper, and a pattern that has been waiting for yarn, decided they'd do fine together, and started. Yes I know that doesn't sound exactly unreasonable or uncautious, but please understand: usually, I am most absolutely, strictly monogamous with my projects. Nothing starts until the previous project is done, whether knitting, sewing or anything else. But today, as I said, I woke up feeling liberated. You know what? When those needles arrive, I'm going to start knitting the other things too, BOTH OF THEM. Booyah.

Because this isn't exactly having three different juggling balls in the air at once, all ready to come crashing down at a moment's notice, is it? This is blowing bubbles and watching them float slowly up and away in their own directions. Socks, sweater or cowl? I'll just knit whichever I feel like, whenever I feel like it. There's no rush: they don't have to be done, not ever if I decide I don't want to. If I decide so, I can just burst that bubble, frog that thing - and start something else.

Oh yes, it's a small thing, but then the big things generally are. Dear lovelies out there, I wish you a most excellent start to your week!

(And I also very much hope I haven't jinxed myself in speaking of this liberated feeling out loud. If it's another several months before I post, assume today was a one off...)

Not today. The other week, snapped by the boy who SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN PLAYING WITH MY PHONE
but ok, it's a picture of me knitting, which was a nice surprise.

P.S. Yes I know, I mentioned the wedding dress and then disappeared. It happened and I promise I will tell you all about it... soon. Probably.

Follow

White, grey, all the colours

WHITE: this box, its contents, and snow.

Me and daughter went to buy the box and its contents on a day when the city was covered in dirty slush. She spent the whole time wishing she lived in the countryside where the cold is prettier, much to the chagrin of me and her dad - we both escaped from rustic tedium as soon as we could, but does she appreciate the bright lights of the big smoke? Does she crap. Ah, the circle of generational resistance! She also filled my phone with random pictures in and from the shop. This view of the car park is the only one in focus.

The box and its contents cost almost 1400 euros. Well, I suppose the box was free. The contents are for my sister's wedding dress. Am I insane? Yes, probably. I have until 6 May.  A mock up has been done, and I only have about 4 pages of adjustments to make before the next one.

Good thing I asked for a whole bunch of tailoring and couture-appropriate sewing supplies for Christmas, really.  Here's hoping it all makes the wedding dress sewing a total breeze. That's likely, right?

GREY: January, my mood, some yarn.

The above was a grey afternoon earlier this month when I cut out an admittedly not-grey dress (an Elisalex, should you be interested) which I am now wearing, as I write. That fabric combined with my blue cardigan makes me feel a little like I'm in school uniform, which is not exactly lifting my spirits.You can hear the grey mood, can't you? I've basically been a total misanthrope for the last two months, December's final week of food, booze and chocolate excepted. I expect I'll cheer up soon. But it probably explains my growing addiction to Noro yarn.

The trick with Noro yarn is to always buy it on sale. Although unless you are very strong willed you will cancel out the savings by buying so much of it your cupboard is overflowing with the brightly-coloured nubbly stuff and you have no idea what you will do with it all.

I am not very strong willed.

For balance, I have combined this radiant rainbow of a skein - so the scarf is at least semi-sophisticated - with a contrasting solid colour. Yes, more grey.

But, see this next knitted thing: ALL THE COLOURS!

Yes, I do already have a (not-combined-with-grey) Noro scarf thing. Which is just as well, because above-mentioned daughter has already claimed the new one for when its done.

I like how the fringe on this one makes me feel like a hippy.

In other news, I have been investigating (i.e. buying supplies for) cross stitch. Because I need a new hobby like I need a hole in the head. But hey, variety is the spice of life - and totally not a "I'm scared of sewing a wedding dress" distraction!

*      *      *

I think I might be here more frequently, maybe, from now on. But less, well, I don't know - I might ramble and there might be less crafts. It's time... time to let some of the writing out...

I hope you are well, dear friends! Belated happy 2017! What are you working on to start your year?

Follow

A year in the making: knitted Cline sweater

I have decided to be a grumpy old git for the month of November.

It's dark and boring. Everyone is hunkered down doing nothing much but waiting for the December madness to kick off, and to be frank I'm feeling a bit bah humbug about that too. I like Christmas and all - in fact, generally I love it - but for Christmas to go smoothly in a month's time means engaging my brain NOW about things like travel and gifts and recipes, and my brain does not wish to be engaged. It would like to hibernate. It is asking itself what the hell it was thinking in September when it decided to knit masses of presents and bought all the wool and then just looked at it for a long time, because the appearance of Git Me that does not want to knit to a deadline while procrastinating on the big food-related to-do list WAS INEVITABLE.

Thing is, I know very well what September brain was thinking. It was thinking: I AM A KNITTING WIZZZZAAARD(-ess?)!!!!

Because of this jumper.

This jumper took over a year of knitting. No, actually, that's not true: it took over a year to complete, in which time I also knit several other things, because the knitting of this jumper was at once overwhelming (it's knit in pieces! Even when you've finished knitting it, it's not done!!) and overwhelmingly tedious. (Stockinette. Knit flat. In four separate parts. Insert crying emoji here). It's also knit in about the scratchiest wool I could find - well, in any case, the scratchiest wool I have ever knit with. All in all, it was not a smooth sensory experience.

Basically, this jumper was the very definition of knitting for the product, not the process.  However. I knew, from well before I even cast on, that I would love the product.  And the reason September brain was feeling so exuberant about its knit skillz is because I was right - all that hard work (ok, "hard work") finally paid off. I DO love it! 

There are people who don't like wearing scratchy wool.  There are people who think that a baggy gray jumper is too tedious to wear, let alone make (my mum helpfully voiced this opinion repeatedly). There are people who think dolman sleeves are the opposite of an interesting design feature.

I am not any of those people. And this piece of knitwear fits predictably, perfectly well into my weekend uniform of (skinny) jeans and (oversized) sweater. 

See? I'm smiling. (This picture was taken before November).

SLEEVES GIF.

• Pattern: Cline dolman sweater by Julie Hoover

• My notes on ravelry here. 

So, my northern hemisphere friends, how are you coping with the decreasing daylight? Any tips for me? Just no-one say hygge, ok.  And southern hemisphere friends - NO WAIT  DON'T TELL ME I DON'T EVEN WANT TO KNOW.

Er, sorry. I'll probably be in a better mood next time...

Follow

Leaves on the line: a shawl for Bomma

I don't often show you my knitting, do I?*

(* unless you follow me on instagram, in which case I hardly ever show you my finished knitting).

Theoretically, this is because knitting is a lot slower than sewing, and tends to happen disproportionately in autumn, and, well, I'm just more used to talking about sewing. But just because something happens less often doesn't mean it's not happening at all, and as a matter of fact I knit all year round, plus, I'm actually very capable of wittering on about all kinds of random crap (in case you hadn't noticed). No, that's not the reason I don't blog about it. The reason is: I'm rarely proud of my knits in the way I'm proud of my sews (yes, as a noun. Suck it up).

I've knit enough now to more or less know what I'm doing, or to be able to figure it out. I know when I'm prepared to troubleshoot and when I'm prepared to frog it and start again. I can follow the instructions, which is an achievement in and of itself: learning to read knitting patterns is like learning a foreign - nay, ALIEN - language (and don't even ask me about knitting from charts). But generally, I just don't have the experience, the feel, for it yet that turns out the level of finish I'd like.

I know realism and fail-commiseration have their own, rightful places on sewing and crafting blogs.  It's not like I deliberately avoid those things. But what can I say? It's just more fun to share the things that turned out cool, isn't it?

Yes. It is. And so we have here a piece of knitting that, ok, I'm pretty pleased with. VERY pleased with, in fact!

I made it for my husband's Bomma - his grandmother - who turned 90 last week. I don't wear a great deal of shawls myself, and really not ones with lace patterns, but for a while I'd been itching to try one anyway simply because there are so many patterns out there that look fantastically fun to knit (see point 14). Which this was! It's deceptively simple and surprisingly quick, yet those leaf shapes are really high impact - and it was a little bit like magic watching them appear.

The pattern is Leaves On The Line by Susan Ashcroft, who is otherwise known as the stitchnerd and has legions of devoted fans on ravelry.  I can now be counted as one of them - both the design and the explanations are incredibly intuitive, and this was one of the most relaxing things I've ever knit. (If you'd like more technical details, my ravelry notes are here). Plus, SHE'S FROM BRUSSELS! Which is where all the cool kids live, don't you know?

This weekend there was a big family party for Bomma - literally. She's the lynchpin of an enormous extended family, having (step)mothered thirteen children - who now have children of their own, who now have children of their own, and everyone plus spouses was there. We estimated about 80 people present, all of them related to each other in some way.

Understandably I think, at 90 years of age, Bomma had instructed 'no presents'. But me and the husband decided that what she really meant was that she didn't want to be swamped with stuff, especially considering the number of people involved, and that something handmade and useful would be exempt. 

We didn't want to make a fuss, and gave it to her quietly as we were leaving. She opened it out, and we had a little chat about the knitting, and then she looked up at us, and smiled and said:

"You know, I don't like presents usually, because, well, people these days just don't make an effort."

Which was about the best thing anyone has said about a homemade present ever.

Follow

Knitter sweater

Greetings earthlings readers! Tell me, have you been reading Karen's tips on blog writing? I've long admired the writerly and editorial skill with which she crafts her posts, and I'm finding this mini-series inspiring. True fact: when I was a kid (and in fact not-so-secretly still) all I ever wanted to be was a Writer: capital W, obvs, I'm talking about actual Literature here (capital L). Anyway, Karen said out loud what I've believed all along, which is that of course, not all writing has to be Literature. Us blogging seamsters?  We're writers already! And you know what? If someone in publishing said it, it TOTALLY counts. Childhood ambition: achievement unlocked!

So yay, there I was, all fired up and inspired to tell you a story.  But ok, it turns out that 37 year-old me runs into the same problem as 7 year-old me. Sometimes, you just don't have much of a story to tell.

Totally had not realised how not-black my black leggings are these days.

I made a sweater.

I love it.

The End.

Ok, not The End.  I'm presuming you want details :-)

I also presume you've already guessed the biggest one, due to this pattern's total ubiquity at the moment: yes of course - it's a Grainline Linden sweatshirt.  Plain black, because I happened to have 5 metres of this lusciously stretchy sweatshirting on hand (and will totally make matching Hudsons with the rest!) and then tarted up a bit, because why not?  Though actually, I can think of many reasons not to emblazon a slogan across your boobs. I don't think I've ever before bought or worn a top embellished in such a way. Partly a placement thing: rtw slogans don't so much splash across my boobs so much as splurge between boobs and neck, and that does not look cool (it looks ridiculous). Also, what slogan? I'm not exactly going to shout BABE with my bust, or something.

But I had this silver sparkly fusible flocking. I found it in Hema and couldn't just leave it there.  And the idea of slogan-ing this sweater wouldn't let go - all I needed was a word I could wear, if not with pride then at least without embarrassment.

Once I had one, all it took was a few hours minutes of font-finding, fifteen minutes to cut it out with a craft knife, and five minutes more to iron it on.

Now, can I brag shamelessly about that piping? (It's stretch piping btw, found in a local shop and compulsively bought for the novelty value).  Here's an underarm seam junction for you, from the inside:

And here it is again, from the outside:

BAM! See that join?  PERFECT! << Little smug happy dance >>  I don't know what it is about matching up seams, but I am quite obsessive about it. In the rarely-visible armpit region, I will usually allow seams to not line up with absolute precision - but on this, with contrast piping involved, I would have got the heebie jeebies if they didn't. Seriously. (Sometimes I do worry about whether sewing is actually good for my mental health).

Ah, tea and knitting. These two things in combination can cure almost all ills.  Except the one where you rip out your attempted thumb gusset six times before getting it right.  Then it gets a bit love-hate. Sometimes, wine is needed.

I got there in the end, and conquered second glove syndrome while I was at it. I'll have a pair by the end of winter! Or more like AT the end of winter, but they'll be happy enough in a box until next year.

So, that's that. A knitter sweater. It goes without saying that I've made more Lindens, doesn't it? I'm experimenting with sizing: this one is a size 6 at the shoulders with a 2cm full bust adjustment (slightly fiddly, as you're also adjusting the length of the sleeve seam - would anyone be interested in a quick'n'dirty raglan FBA tute?), and I graded out to a 12 at the waist/hips.  For my subsequent two Lindens I've made a straight size 12 - they're a bit boxier than this, but slightly more comfortable - this one pulls a little at the shoulders. I'll show you them soon; this pattern has so much scope for customising, they're both completely different. The one I'm wearing right now is a rather unexpected view B...

Would you, or do you, wear slogans on sweaters?  And how do you feel about embellishments?  I've rarely tried them before, but now I think I'm a convert!

Follow

Yak hat

Happy Friday, dearests! I hope you've had a good week! I'm tired out by mine, but it included an excellent day of sewcialising (more below), and the outlook for the weekend is pleasingly cold and sunny. Perfect for getting some fresh air and vitamin D in my new and favourite-ever knitted hat!

There are a lot of things I like about this hat.  Starting, where all knitted items do, with the yarn. I don't know if I mentioned it here, but I was one of the lucky attendees at the awesome Paris meet up in November (see Charlotte and Lladybird for write ups) and came away with a fantastic goody bag which included a 40% off voucher for Peace and Wool.  OK I just went to their site to link them and of course there's a sale on - NOT WHAT I NEED people! Because markdowns on wool, I am powerless to resist - and most especially when it comes with a sexy French blurb like this one: 

Under its thick, coarse hair, the Mongolian yak has a layer of very warm and incomparably soft down - a precious product once reserved for royalty. Yaks lose this down in the spring moulting season, when it is collected by hand, sorted and washed several times. Yak wool is very warm and extremely soft, similar to cashmere. 

This carded yarn consists of 50% down from the Khangai mountain Yak, produced by the region's cooperative farmers with the technical support of Agronomists and Veterinarians Without Borders.  The remaining 50% is incredibly soft extra fine merino from breeders in the Southern Alps. In addition to its exceptional feel and color, this yarn is entirely naturally treated and undyed. Being fairly traded, it also contributes to improving the living conditions of both Mongolian and French herders.

Isn't that just the most unimpeachably perfect yarn snobbery ever? I absolutely love it!! It's still the thing that tickles me most about the finished item of headwear. And to top it all off, it came wrapped in sparkly paper with a free chocolate:

Peace and Wool are WINNING at artisan craft supplies, guys! Totally made my day.

So then I just had to find a pattern. Time to test a theory I'd been developing: namely, that if you spend long enough scrolling through patterns on Ravelry - and there will be thousands, even when you've narrowed it down by yardage, weight, needle size, pattern type and everything else you can think of - and "long enough" in this case meaning well beyond what would usually be the point of no return, it might even take days - if you search that stubbornly and persistently, eventually you WILL find the one absolutely 100% perfect pattern for the thing you want to make.

I didn't say it was a time saving theory or anything. But it hasn't been proved wrong yet.

I found my holy grail hat pattern on about page 1,000* (*possibly an exaggeration). It's Rooty by Alex Tinsley, and well, it just grabbed me. The clever knit-flat brim, the braids, the perfect amount of slouch - I love it! And though you can't see them so well in this picture, it's also got tiny dots knit into it too, which gives it a lovely little bit of texture. (They show up better on the first and last pictures in this post). I showed it to my family over Christmas and they all agreed it was very 'me', whatever that means. I think it was intended as a compliment.

Right now, on to the sewcialising part! The part where, on Tuesday, I went to Paris again and met up with the wonderful, WONDERFUL Kirsty, Inna and Lisa. We had a brilliant time touring the fabric shops with Barbara of Stitching Up Paris, and I was yet again floored by the fabulousness of the internet and the sewing friends I've made through it.  But you know, I don't really have much to report about the day itself - we walked, talked, shopped, and it was like we'd all met before and known each other for years, which in a sense is true anyway.  It was just all round lovely to meet them.

However. I'm not just telling you all this randomly and pointlessly.

Here is a picture (taken by Inna - I hope she doesn't mind me 'borrowing' it from her Instagram feed) of Lisa and Barbara taking a well-earned shopping break. And guess what...

Lisa made a yak hat too! Hers is a Dreiecke by Very Shannon, also a textured pattern that works really well with the yarn. In fact so well that I was immediately seized with hat jealousy and wished I had more yak yarn to make a copycat hat with (I think I'm almost over it now).  We compared notes and particularly noticed how the wool has gone all fluffy in the wearing - it has a kind of downy halo-like glow. Albeit a glow that does bear a passing resemblance to pubic hair, which was my thought not Lisa's and not one said out loud at the time, but it was a thought that once had could not be un-had, so I thought I'd share it. You're welcome.

So that's my yak hat. The yarn really is as soft and warm as that blurb says it is, and it sits so lightly on the head. I like the pattern so much that I've already made another, this time for my daughter (on a size smaller needles so it came out just a little denser, and fits her perfectly).  It all makes going out in the cold just a bit more bearable.

And with that I'm signing off - I have some fake fur trim to shop for. Hope you all have a lovely weekend!

Follow

Knit storm

When life sends a sh*t storm, take refuge in a knit storm! It's not a saying but I think it probably should be, or something along those lines. Just putting it out there :-)

Not that I would describe life as being particularly stormy at the moment. In fact, after some ups and downs earlier this year, things recently seem to be calming down. Nonetheless, I have been been knitting furiously this autumn, and in the process have come to realise just how restorative an activity it is, for me. Simultaneously simple and complex, hypnotically repetitive, harmoniously occupying the hands and mind - it's like mindfulness completely embodied in creativity. Mindfulness being another thing I've got into in last couple of months, and the relative calm that's arrived in parallel is probably not coincidental.

Anyway. The knitting :-)

Look at these lovely, lovely cables. And the short-row set-in sleeve! In seeming contrast to what I just said, this cardigan almost killed my knitting mojo because the pattern, while clear and really enjoyable to follow, made my brain hurt. However, the wool was so delicious, and the challenges so rewarding to complete, that it couldn't help but be a soul-soothing knit. Or maybe I'm just looking back with rose-tinted glasses. Either way, the immense pride with which I finished it - my first cables! first buttonholes! - is what unleashed the slew of projects that followed.

Unfortunately, it was made with a specifically coordinating dress in mind. A dress which I have not quite got round to making yet.

Thus, modelled photos shall follow at an entirely unspecified point in the future.  I just wish I could let you touch it with pictures, because it's Malabrigo merino and it's ooooooohhh so so gorgeous.

Right. Also in the "incomplete sets" category, we have this:

It's a Beatrice scarf and it goes with this:

Which is an Odessa hat (free pattern!). It looks really cool with the spiral pattern but it was very - deceptively - easy to knit. I did it over one weekend. Things I like about it: how the decreases at the top swirl into the crown, and how it's light and not too warm. I do so hate to have an overheated head. The yarn is a dk weight cotton, which therefore turned out to be ideal.  And these two I will happily model when the set moves into the "complete" category, because mustard. I have visions of mustard knitted stylishness.

Now, this one is properly complete, and I have a picture of it in action!

This is a Flax sweater, also a free pattern, from this fabulous beginner-level collection by Tin Can Knits. The impressive size range goes from newborn to adult 4XL! I made the 6-8 year size for my 5-and-a-half year old boy, and unsurprisingly, it's on the large side. But he loves being able to swing the sleeves off the end of his arms, so it's cool.

Here's a picture of the garter-stitch sleeve detail and the kfb (knit front & back) raglan increases, just because I like how they turned out.  Any eagle-eyed knitters out there who can spot the deliberate *cough* mistake in the garter panel? So far I've managed to leave little handmade 'signals' like this on every single thing I've ever knit. I don't undo them, to stop myself getting obsessive :-)

Aaaand finally, here's the current project in progress!  It's a sweater for my daughter (because sibling sweater rivalry) and I just have the sleeves left to do.

After this is done, there shall be more hats. And another sweater! And SOCKS!

Yes, knitting is really making me happy at the minute :-) So I shall just do it more, and more, and more - because when it comes down to it, that's exactly how I think life should be led.

What things keep you on an even keel? Sewing, knitting, other kinds of crafting - or something else completely? Is crafting something that soothes for you - or is it something you need to take a break from too?  Feel free to share your sanity-savers here!  I'm sure plenty of us could do with taking notes :-)

Follow

Big merino seed stitch scarf

It took six months to find the perfect light to photograph this scarf. From Belgium to Britain, Spain to Scandinavia - it's already well-travelled, and well-used. But perhaps I should have guessed from the beginning that its photographic home would be found in Sweden.

There is something rather Nordic about how simple yet stylish, and colourfully understated it is.  But I don't really think it's that. It's rather the absolute luminosity of this yarn; those dramatic, cool tones really glow. Just like the sun setting over the deep blue Baltic, the clear pink light glowing on the sand.  Those who were reading this time last year might recall a post-holiday knitting post full of enthusiasm for Scandinavia, and, well - one summer wasn't enough.  We love the landscapes and the way of life, and the cooler summer climes suit us far, far better than sweltering southern Europe. You just need to be prepared for those evenings when yes, the wind drops - and so do the temperatures.

What you need then is a huge, incredibly warm, soft and drapy merino wrap.

I've blogged about this scarf before, here, when I was half-way through - and really, I have nothing to add about the process of knitting it. It was simple and big; a perfect project to cart around on trips to the playground, or weekends away, and then to just plug on with while chatting (or while mindlessly thinking about nothing. Knitting is so great for that too, isn't it?) Towards the end I could hardly squeeze it into my knitting bag - so I made another, bigger one, and thus solved about the only problem of the whole project.

What was quite scary was the blocking.  I had recently read this post by the yarn harlot, who by the way is an extremely talented and hilarious writer as well as a wonderful knitter, and decided that I was going to Do Things Properly. What that post didn't say, though, is that getting an absolutely enormous scarf out of your bathtub and onto a big-enough flat surface, all without stretching it, is virtually impossible. Also, it takes DAYS to dry. Who knew??  In the end it actually went fine, and the scarf is indeed better for it - but it took me about a week to recover from the stress.

But that's all behind me now. As, sadly, is this year's Swedish holiday.  We walked the forests, then the coasts, met real Vikings, baked pie with the local farmer's apples, ate almost all our meals outdoors.

And when night fell, we cosied up by the wood stove with the next knitting project.  Of which more, soon!

Pattern & yarn both from Purl Soho: Worsted Twist Seed Stitch Scarf, and the yarn kit.

Follow