Cookie A and BKFFs

Many, many sock knitters love Cookie A. Who amongst us hasn't knit at least a pair of Monkey socks? Or Pomatomus?  Ok, not everyone has, but there are almost 9000 pairs of monkey socks on Ravelry. She's popular. Very popular and not without good reason.

It was probably only a matter of time before she put out a book. I thought her website was pretty cool and so wondered if a book was really necessary. Exciting, certainly. But necessary? When she's already such a great presence on the net? Nonetheless, when RoseRed offered to get a copy for me from Amazon when she ordered hers, who was I to say no?


As it turns out, a Cookie A book actually is necessary. Buy the book for the instructional chapter alone. Not just a how to knit socks, but a how to design socks. If you've ever had the slightest notion of having a go at designing socks (I have, but I'm scared of numbers!) then this is a great book for you. A chance to dig around inside the mind of a very clever sock designer is absolutely worth it. 

And if it's not designing you're after, at the very least it's a chance to really have a good think about how socks are constructed and why. 

The socks are amazing. A little too amazing in some instances. With daunting looking charts and rather busy looking cables, I think some of them are socks I may not ever attempt. I won't say never, but honestly, they're a bit full on some of them. Others are just perfectly gorgeous and impressive and I plan to knit quite a few.

Also, there is the rather sweet reference in the book, several times, to her blogging and sock knitting friend, Kristi, as her BKFF (Best Knitting Friend Forever). It made me smile. So cheesy it's cute.

So it was quite fitting then that, at knitting camp, me and two of my very best BKFFs cast on socks from Sock Innovation together. Not just three socks, but three of the same socks, in different yarn. 



L-R: RoseRed's in Mountain Colours Barefoot; mine in Patonyle; Kylie's in Socks that Rock. The pattern is Cauchy (Ko-Shee) which is a rather nice, simple geometric pattern, and arguably the most straightforward and simple sock in the book.

You can't really see it yet but I guess you can see the beginning of the geometric stitch pattern.

These are for Sean. I think he'll like them. He certainly made the right noises, nodding approval etc. 

+  +  +

So today marks the end of my month of daily blogging. Thanks for participating! If you won a prize, I'm sending them all out next week.

I have really, really enjoyed daily blogging. I'm not sure how I found the time some days. But I got there. I have to say I'm looking forward though to being able to go out tomorrow night and not think of a post to write in advance! I can wait until Saturday if I want! 

By then I'll be able to show you the Ishbel shawl I am going to cast on tonight. I am weak. So very weak. I can't resist. You all had very good arguments for why I should do it, and so I will.

Bells

Dot Points: Or Why I Want to Knit Ishbel

I present for your entertainment (or otherwise) a random selection of dot points because I can't be bothered dealing with photos tonight.

• Today I bought the absolutely gorgeous Ishbel pattern by Ysolda Teague. You know, the adorable and apparently deliciously simple shawl (or shawlette) that so far a mere 700+ people on Ravelry have already made? I want to be one of them.

• I am heavily committed to completing a large project for my brother's birthday in less than 3 weeks. I know I'll do it and that some leave I'm having in that time will help with getting it done, but still, I have a wandering eye and Ishbel is so alluring. Evil temptress.

• RoseRed has not helped. She is urging me on to do it via email. I should have just turned off the computer.

• George did not help either. She said that I could do it provided it wasn't another very dark or black project. I had planned dark yarn. Duh. I need another darkly coloured project like a hole in the head.

• Moving right along. I heard a school principal use the word 'incursion' today in a most annoying fashion. He spoke of his students taking excursions or incursions. He said it many, many times. All I could think of was young kids undertaking military maneuvers. I wasn't even sure that's what incursion meant, i just knew I heard it most often in news reports about the Middle East. And so I cringed. Many times. I think he meant activities where the kids don't leave the school.

• If you are wondering what happened to all the blog post topic suggestions, I haven't forgotten them. Many of them require time to think about and draft, with photos. I've got some excursions planned. There will, however, be no incursions on these excursions.

• I miss camp. I miss lots of people from camp. Can we go again next weekend?

• It's so cold right now and I am happy. Today I wore a black flared skirt, heavy black stockings, black heels, a black t-shirt and a black cardigan. Over the top, wrapped around like a scarf, was my red shetland triangle shawl on its first outing as a shawl and not a shrug. I felt so good. I am going to have to knit more such shawls because they work brilliantly as accessories. Oh, I know, what about Ishbel?

• Oh that's right. I'm being good. Not casting on anything else right now. Committed knitting must be done. I am sure my brother will appreciate the sacrifice. No, you're right, who am I kidding? He won't. He'll love the item (psst: it's a pi blanket). He just won't get what a sacrifice it was for me not to cast on Ishbel tonight.

• Being responsible is sometimes so boring. This is not meant to sound like I don't love the pi blanket. I do. But I love Ishbel too.

It's time to knit and watch TV.

Bells - who still wants to knit Ishbel.

A Bowl of Yarn

There is a lovely post over at Make Do and Mend today, where Mooncalf discusses the way in which she uses a large bowl to hold knitwear. Go have a look and then come back. The rest of this post will make more sense after that.

+ + +

Back? Good. Read on.

It got me to thinking and as I was thinking, I looked up from my laptop and saw the ceramic platter (which was a gift from my sister, Adele, on my 30th) which has for some time now featured some beloved skeins of yarn. Each of these skeins, bar the silver laceweight at the end, was a gift.



I brought it out to the kitchen for the photo, because the lighting is better there, but the rest of the time, it sits on the coffee table in my lounge room. I try and keep the table clear so the platter can be the true centrepiece, but well, me and flat surfaces, we have a difficult relationship.

It's one of the few concessions I make to household decoration. I'm not really into it. I mean, I like the idea and little bits I've done please me but on the whole, it's not really my thing. The living room Yarn Art though, really makes my day some days. I look, admire, and feel glad that I have left the skeins out as adornment. 

It's useful, too. Most recently, when I was cast adrift in a sea of darkness, two skeins of palest blue koigu were in my direct line of vision every time I looked up from another darkly coloured piece of knitting. I stared at it long enough that I knew I had to knit it. 

If it had been put away with all the other stash, I might not have considered it. It might not have saved me from drowning in the black, or nearly black projects that seemed to be multiplying daily.

And so I love my yarn art. But I also rather like Mooncalf's idea of a bowl of knitwear by the door. If only I had enough hats and mittens to fill one.

I think there might be a bout of small/accessory knitwear looming on the horizon. 

+ + +

And finally, I've had a few requests for where to get the knitwear labels from yesterday's post. The answer is, I have no idea. I can't remember. I've long since lost the details but I will try and remember! 

Bells

Polly Goes Everywhere

Some months ago I started some socks. Some plain socks. Socks that were not plain in colour, but were plain in style. I'm sure nearly everyone agrees that highly variegated yarn simply must be knit into plain socks.

I began them and called them my Go Everywhere Socks, because they'd go everywhere with me as I knit them. I can report that they did. Like all the best plain knit socks, they covered a lot of ground before they ever get moving on a pair of feet.

Recently I finished them, having decided some time ago that they were not destined for my feet, but for those of a friend. Today, they were gifted. To Polly. She who lives in the country house I have mentioned previously as a place we LOVE to visit.

So here are Polly's Go Everywhere Socks. A birthday gift, quite aptly given on the first of our really cold weekends.



She absolutely loved them, having only seen my socks before. Soon, they were on her feet. The observant among you might notice the slightly pointy heel in the shot above. I'm at a loss to explain the excessive pointiness of the German heel, but I am fairly certain it will flatten down nicely with wear.

I had some sew on labels made up earlier this year and sewed one inside Polly's sock, in case she got it confused with any of her other knitted socks. ;-)



The yarn is Fleece Artist in the Autumn colourway, I think. This was the yarn that a long time ago turned into a pile of tangled mess and reader Catherine offered to help me out by winding it up. I will be eternally grateful to Catherine for this!

The socks were worn throughout an afternoon of playing with our little friend, Mollie, who was also visiting, and Zebedee the dog.



I took along a hulking great slab of Nigella Lawson's Gingerbread and we dined on a feast of afternoon treats while outside the sky grew ever more ominous and the wind never quite let up.



Inside in hand knitted socks is more or less how I plan to pass the coming winter and now Polly can do the same.

Bells

Knitting Camp 2009

As you may well imagine, a weekend of knitting, talking, eating, drinking and more knitting is pretty fabulous but also pretty bloody exhausting. When Sean picked me up from Wollongong mid afternoon today, I believe I sank into the car and sat staring comatose out the window for a fair whack of the journey home.

Between late nights, early starts and an extensive amount of talking and knitting, often at the same time, it's enough to wear a girl out. Still, I have had dinner, changed into PJs and had a glass of wine so I am suitably refreshed and able to cobble together some sort of picture of what a wonderful weekend it was.

Here's a mosaic of some photos from the weekend. As usual, click on the hyperlinks below to see any of the photos properly in flickr, with descriptions etc.



1. pi blanket, 2. lynS, 3. Myrtle Shawl At Camp, 4. Ailsa and Donna - dinner, 5. Knitting in the Sun, 6. Knitting camp - outside, 7. Knitting camp - Saturday morning, 8. Rainforest Chapel at Mt Keira, 9. Playing Dressups - Saturday night Hawaiian Dinner, 10. Matchy Matchy, 11. Bells & Jejune, 12. Bells & Kylie

Arriving at camp late afternoon and Friday, Jejune and I set up our room and waited for others to arrive. And arrive they did. Hoards of knitters, refugees from the working week, arrived bursting with excitement. Those girls (and Lee*) sure can talk! We were raucous. I think there's no other word for it.

There were people to meet. This weekend, although there were vast numbers of knitters I already knew from blogs or Ravlery, there were still more to meet. It's wonderful, and sometimes a little weird, to meet complete strangers and be known as Bells, not as Helen. I'm sure we all have that experience. A person might introduce you as their real name but until you place them by the name they use online, you're all at sea.

And really, the rest of the weekend was much of the same. Raucous, incessant chatter. An endless parade of knits. We had two Tangled Yoke cardigans; three February Lady Sweaters in progress (and a baby version); one Eastlake jumper; two complete Autumn Rose jumpers (photo #10 above) and more socks than I can list. Sometimes I just sat back and watched people diving on each other's ankles, guessing at patterns and yarns and making all the usual noises of praise and admiration.

Honestly, there are few greater treats in life than to spend a weekend with your dearest friends, doing little more than the very thing that brought you together in the first place. Sometimes I am gobsmacked by the notion that years ago, when I thought, hmmm, maybe I'll take up knitting again, it opened up the world to me.

If that moment hadn't happened, I wouldn't have spent the weekend high up on Mt Keira, surrounded by rainforest and sharing a weekend with friends I adore and knitters I got to know a little better.

It is possible, though, that there is such a thing as too much knitting. I worked extensively on a gift pi blanket - 12ply yarn, 6mm needles and a lot of stitches. That much heavy weight knitting can make a girl's fingers throb, ever so slightly.

Bells

* this refers to the fact that this year, we were joined by a solitary man, Lee. Each time the organisers of the camp addressed the entire group, they would begin, 'Ladies! And Lee.' It made us laugh. Maybe you had to be there. I had to share at least one in joke.

Once a Year

Every year on ANZAC Day there's a song I play. It's Billy Bragg's cover of the classic anti-war song by Eric Bogle. 

It's a mournful, gentle piece and to me, that seems the best way to commemorate the massive, violent destruction of war. 

My Youngest Son Came Home Today

My youngest son came home today
His friends marched with him all the way
The fife and drum beat out the time
While in his box of polished pine
Like dead meat on a butcher's tray
My youngest son same home today

My youngest son was a fine young man
With a wife, a daughter and two sons
And a man he would have lived and died
Till by a bullet sanctified
Now he's a saint or so they say
They brought their young saint home today

An irish sky looks down and weeps
Upon the narrow belfast streets
At children's blood in gutters spilled
In dreams of glory unfulfilled
As part of freedom's price to pay
My youngest son came home today

My youngest son came home today
His friends marched with him all the way
The pipe and drum beat out the time
While in his box of polished pine
Like dead meat on a butcher's tray
My youngest son came home today
And this time he's here to stay

Words and music: eric bogle

On Retreat

By the time this post appears, I will be away from home enjoying the first night of the Wollongong Knitting Retreat, or Knitting Camp, as it's also known.

This is my second year. Last year's camp was held in the dead of winter so I'm looking forward to experiencing the gorgeous surrounds of the Mt Keira Scout Camp in autumn.

Friday - Sunday we'll be knitting. And talking. And laughing. And eating. And drinking. There will also be some walking. We will sleep in dorm style rooms and spend the weekend with some of the finest people you could imagine.

And we will be happy.

I've spent this morning sorting through the knitting and proposed projects and have compiled it all, ready to go. I can simply not knit everything I'm taking. But I can have a damn good go at trying.

Why yes, that is a brand spanking new copy of Cookie A's Sock Innovation! Kylie and RoseRed and I and I will be casting on socks from this book this weekend!

Now to just shower, dress, pack a few comfy warm clothes for sitting around in and then to wait for Jejune to come and get me. What a lovely drive we will have!

Bells

Wensleydale - it's not all about cheese

Until late last year, if I heard the word Wensleydale, I immediately thought of one of two things, neither of which had anything to do with wool.

I thought mostly of cheese because Wensleydale cheese, as any self respecting British comedy afficianado will know, has featured twice in great comedy. Once in the famous Monty Python cheese shop sketch, and most recently in the Wallace and Gromit series.

Have I just lost the Americans? Are Wallace and Gromit known there? I'm pretty sure they're universal, since there was an animated movie by the makers starring Mel Gibson.

So that loveable fuddy-duddy, Wallace, even has real life Wensleydale cheese with his face on the wrapper now.

Wensleydale cheese is funny. I don't know why. I am not sure I've ever even tried it, but I mean to. Is it just that the word itself is funny and that's why it's been used in comedy? I don't know. It's like 'trousers'. I think 'trousers' is a very funny word. Some words just are, don't you think?

Anyway.

Last year I stumbled across some lovely wool I'd never seen before, in a delicate cranberry colour. I rather liked the look and feel of it but mostly I just bought it because of the name.

Wensleydale.

And it was only recently that I investigated what a Wensleydale sheep looked like.

And aren't they cute? I want hair like that - it kinda looks like a dropped perm, doesn't it? According to Wikipedia, these lovelies are at risk. There are only 1500 breeding females in the world. So now I feel even better that I bought more Wensleydale recently.

Kylie went to the UK recently and she offered to do a spot of shopping for various friends. When I knew she was going to I Knit in London, I checked out the website and sure enough, they stocked Wensleydale yarn. It's pretty hard to get here. I requested earthy tones and Kylie kindly delivered.

I got some grey Wensleydale! 8ply/DK weight. This will be a warm winter shawl of some kind.



And this is, despite poor photography, is green Wensleydale! In 4ply/fingering weight. I couldn't quite capture the lovely forresty greenness of this stuff.



Wensleydale sheep originate in Yorkshire and Yorkshire is one of my favourite places so I'm rather happy to hold onto this hard to get yarn for a while longer and just love it to bits. Thank you, Kylie. You're the best.

Bells

Retraction

This ball of dark green Grignasco Tango used to be my Tangled Yoke cardigan. Or rather, the beginning of a Tangled Yoke cardigan.



Now she's just a wound up ball of wool, alpaca and viscose. I say 'just' but that's not quite true. She's quite a lovely ball of wool, alpaca and viscose and really I like her very much so it's nothing personal.

For now, she's simply retracting all earlier statements that she ever wanted to be a Tangled Yoke cardigan. In time, I'm sure everyone will forget.

And the reason for this retraction? A couple of friends kindly agreed with me last weekend that the yarn was too dark, too flecky to be something bearing a detailed but delicate cable. The cable would be lost. I heartily agreed and figured I'd found the reason why she'd sat in my workbag untouched for more than a week.

Quite simply, I just knew. Deep down. So now I'm moving on without so much as a backwards glance.

I have a new love.



February Lady Sweater in Cascade 220. Red, smooshy love, that's what I'm feeling. OK, so she's a viral knit. Half the knitting world has made one, in this yarn. Do I care? No. Not one bit. I think we're going to be very happy.

Bells

Contest winners and a single bootie

How's that for an exciting title?

First things first, never let it be said that my husband only half does the tough jobs. He found judging the contest really hard, partly, I suspect, because he feels like he knows some readers quite well from either being friends of mine, or because he hears stories and choosing is like playing favourites!

That said, he chose winners he didn't know and would you believe, he sent me a summary email outlining his choices, the honourable mentions, the ones that he liked a lot. But in the end, it's down to these three (yes, three, because choosing one was something he just couldn't do).

1. Kate from Knightly Knitter. Sean loved that her comment on suggested post topics was both funny and incredibly broad. She wrote:

hmm, interesting topics?
How Not To Get Back To Sleep At 4am
Procrastination: A Philosophy to Live By
Why It Is Good To Knit And Teach Simultaneously
Bookstores I Have Known
Utopian Cafe
15 Things To Do On The Plane When They Won't Let You Knit
The Book That Showed Me The Wonder Of (insert genre here)
The Weird Thing I Saw/Heard/Smelt of Public Transport Today
Just Keep Going Round: A Tourist's Guide To Navigation In Canberra (and any variation for any other city!)
I See Rainbows
Hang The Housework

(the first one pretty much is the reason for the rest of them today!!!)

2. Sonia from The Peaceful Knitter. Sonia wrote:

Have we seen your stash lately?
Interesting conversations with non-knitters/crocheters?
What's going on in your garden?
Themed photo mosaics from your archived photos.
Okay, I'm stumped now...have fun and keep writing!

Sean liked that Sonia's suggestions covered all the things he likes to see here.


3. Finally, Tinkingbell. Tink wrote:

Like trawling the archives, but how about being a tourist in Canberra? Lots of your readers would like the wider view - and you may notice things you haven't before - take us walking the streets and parks with you
Or take us to (the less sensitive bits) of your work with you
or take us to SnB with you
Or tour your favourite paintings via galleries and museums
or give us more of your childhood and growing up!
What a fun shout out!

Sean chose this one because it means he'll have a reason to drag me around to some galleries again. It's not that I don't like going, I just sometimes forget how much I enjoy it until I get there.

So thanks everyone for your fabulous comments. I've drawn up a list and well, that should keep me going for a while. Winners, send me your addresses and I'll have some stitch markers for you!

Finally, to finish with some knitting.

Isn't this so very cute? It's the first bootie I've made in a long, long time and it's for my niece. It's the leftovers from the jacket and hat I've so far managed to get out of two skeins of Koigu.



I just love it. But it really needs a mate. I'm off to make one now. Yes, they're that quick those Saartje's booties. I'll have the full set of Alice's outfit ready to give to her in the next week, after buttons are found and all finishing touches completed.

Bells

Oh, Tess

I came to Thomas Hardy's Tess of the D'Urbervilles quite late, as in, early this year. I'd read most of his other books in High School and beyond but somehow, Tess and I never met. When we did, via audiobook from Audible on many a bus trip to and from work, it was sudden, instant love. I don't know how I lived to the ripe old age of thirty six without knowing the first thing about this book, other than that it was considered traumatic.

Traumatic is fine by me. I can do trauma in my literature. I'm not afraid to be upset. I'm not unwilling to feel. I don't even mind that I will always feel sad when I think of the book. There's a place for sad and Tess Durbeyfield's story is certainly that.


But it's also beautiful, challenging and compelling. Hardy was misunderstood in his time; his exploration of sexual morality made him unpalatable for 19th century reader. There's an honesty and openness in his work that resonates for us now, I think. He was not afraid to dig deep beneath the surface, to examine the accepted morality of the day and expose the damage inflicted by those who upheld it.

You could say I was still reeling from the horror of reading the novel when the recent adaptation, not yet screened in Australia, landed in my hands last week, courtesy of a very dear friend in the UK. She knew I would love this.

Writing a review is not an easy thing. I read a lot of reviews of this adaptation, which stars "Bond Girl" Gemma Arteton (I've never seen her in the Bond Girl role) and they all do things I'm not going to do - go blow by blow into analysis.

If you know the story, you won't need to read the details again. If you don't, it's perhaps enough to say that it's a gut-wrenching story in which you hope with each page that maybe, just for a moment, Tess Durbeyfield will be given some reprieve from the torment and suffering that life dishes out to her.

It all starts out so well, so idyllic. Life in Hardy's fictional county, Wessex on a spring day.


But it doesn't last. Soon there are the men. Alec D' Urberville. Damn, why do the bad ones have to be so very attractive?


And Angel Clare.

One looks as dark and menacing as the other does kind and good. Don't let the look of them deceive you. They are both as reprehensible as each other in the end, both contributing equally, though differently, to the tragedy of Tess's life.

On and on the suffering goes, played out against the prettiness of England's west country, among people with alarming superstitions and limited moral understanding.

By the time the four part series reaches Stonehenge, you've lived a lifetime with Tess, who is barely out of girlhood. The trainwreck ends and I have to say, knowing the end was coming I was full of trepidation. What would they show? What wouldn't they show?

There are several points like that in the story, moments of pure hell which the makers of the adaptation handled carefully, sympathetically and, most importantly, without the heavy handedness that could so render this story utterly unwatchable.

Gemma Arteton, who I had only seen previously, and recently, in Lost in Austen as Lizzie Bennett, gave gentle, beautiful grace to this role. She gives us a Tess who, though a victim, refuses to live like one.


Beautiful. I'll be watching it again. And again. Thank you for sending it to me, Sharon. You made my week. xo

Bells

ps the contest is yet to be judged. Just have to pin Sean down to do the judging!

Egyptian Walking Onions

I'm loving all the suggestions for topics for me to write about. If nothing else, it's an indicator of what people like to read or would like to see more of. That can only be helpful for me because no matter how much we say we write for ourselves, on some level, we do all write in the hope that others like to read our stuff, don't we?

So keep them coming, if you can and I'll get Sean to pick a winner tomorrow night.

+ + +

So today, before I started to feel a bit unwell in the afternoon, I made a discovery in my garden. A long time ago, my father in law, also a keen gardener, gave me some little onion bulbs, tiny little things he delivered to me in a jar and said to plant them. I did.

I've never fully understood what they were. He kept calling them different names and I was generally confused. So I just let them go in the patch up the back. Sometimes I cut them off at the base and used the tops like the green parts of shallots. And they'd grow back, like this.



It never really occurred to me to dig up the onion bulbs themselves, swelling as they were under the surface and bulging out. I thought if I dug them up, I'd lose the tasty green tops and be left with nothing, so I left them. The patch, over the last couple of years has gotten huge. And once a year or so the tops swell, looking every bit to me like pregnant shallots.



The next stage is for the tops to explode into bunches of mini-onions sitting on the top of the green stem. They grow and grow until they look like fully sized onions that start to sprout.



Eventually, these bulbs all become so heavy that the great tall stems fall over and those bulbs, with their little green shoots growing out, start the next part of the life cycle. But I only found this out today when I did a bit of googling and found out that what I have in my garden are Egyptian Walking Onions. So called because of the way the plants fall over under the weight of the top bulbs. They are also called Tree Onions.

I was so taken with the name that I regretted at once that I had pulled them all out today. Every single one. I was just making space. I was just tired of not really knowing what they were.

Egyptian Walking Onions sound so exotic! And the edible bulbs under the surface are apparently delicately sweet salad style onions, or pickling onions. How could I have ignored these for so long?

Feeling bad about the initial plan I'd had of composting the lot, I set about saving them.

The massive, somewhat daunting pile was a knotted, root bound bunch, covered in dirt. I separated them all out.



After that, I washed them all and spread them out on wire racks to dry in the sun.



At the end of the day, when the sun had vanished, we transferred the wire racks into the shed where they'll stay for some time, drying out as regular onions do. And somehow, I have to work out to get more of them because even though I've never been entirely sure about them, I suddenly feel their absence from the veggie patch and will miss them terribly, especially now that I actually know more about them.

And finally, I also dug up some overgrown catmint plants.



While the plants were sitting on the grass waiting for me to dispose of them, this rather friendly and handsome ginger cat wandered into the yard. He's visited before but I don't think he's ever had a treat like that. Normally he races into the yard and dashes out again, but after sniffing and nibbling the catmint for a while, he simply sauntered off, all happy and relaxed. We thought Julie would find this Stoner Kitty amusing!

So that's my garden update. Never thought I'd devote a whole post to onions, but there you go. With a name like that, I couldn't resist.

Bells

From the archives

Busy day today so I'm digging into the archives for a photo of something I thought I'd lost! Going through some old backed up discs last night in search of something, I found this.



This is a blanket I crocheted in 2004, when my lovely nephew was still in utero. It was hugely ambitious for me at the time. Back then I was still crocheting as a preference over knitting and I didn't have an awful lot of time, once I decided to make it. I recall it took about three months, give or take.

The pattern is from a Leisure Arts leaflet I picked up in Spotlight, my main source of patterns in 03-04. I didn't even really know patterns were on the net back then.

The yarn is Merino Bambino and yes, it's got love hearts on it. Not so keen on making things with love hearts these days but it seemed fitting for a baby.

I loved making this. Really loved it. We were all so excited about the new little life, the first grandchild, coming along and when I presented this to Adele at her baby shower, she adored it. Sometimes you can just tell when something you've made is really loved.

It was used, I believe, as a pram blanket mainly and when I was pregnant, Adele said I could have it for my baby. One day, maybe. I love the idea of it coming back to me.

Don't forget the contest from yesterday's post and my shameless call for post topics. Some lovely ones have come in already and yes, Sean has agreed to judge!

Bells

More muppet fur and a call for topics

First things first, after posting the dead muppet fur hat a couple of days ago, Gabriella from New Zealand posted photos of her sweet children wearing an entire garment made out of the same stuff. You have to see it. It's here. I love it.

+ + +

This month I've been very loosely participating in a project called 31 Days to Building A Better Blog over at ProBlogger. Darren, the Aussie driving this project, is churning out an amazing amount of material on the subject and given the thousands upon thousands of people who signed up for it, it's apparent that many people are interested. He has useful suggestions about building a community, getting the word out about your blog and how to make money from it, if that's your thing.

I was keen. I looked forward to the project beginning and settled in to see what I could learn because, as is probably evident by the three years I've given to this blog so far, I love what I do. So far though, I feel like I've not learned much from the Better Blogging project. Why? Because it seems largely driven by the idea of how to make money from blogging and that's not for me.

It seems the internet is crawling with people who want to make money from their blogs and I admit to finding this a bit odd. Until recently, it never occured to me that it really was something that could be pursued as anything other than a hobby. 

I take my blogging pretty seriously. I like to give it my best, but when it comes down to it, it's still really just a hobby. I periodically consider ways that I might move into a career in writing through this venture, but it's a side consideration, not the reason I'm doing it.

So this is a roundabout way of getting to today's post. Topics.

Today's suggestion by Darren is to come up with ten topics to use in future blog posts and this is a great idea because there are some days, particularly when I'm doing this daily blogging thing, when I get to the computer and am met by a blank screen. And it stays blank for some time until I can cobble something together.

I get there in the end, but I'd like it if I had more ideas planned in advance. Sometimes I have a draft or two waiting in the wings, but more often than not, I'm flying by the seat of my pants.

So I've got this idea for, well, getting ideas. Suggest them to me! Anything you'd either like to see me write about, or which you think is just generally a good idea for a blogger to write about and anyone who wants to pilfer them can do so at their leisure! We could end up with some great shared topics out of this.

I want to see what people come up with. This could be a great way to pretty much fill up the rest of the month and I think the topics should be as open and random as you like. Not just about knitting.

To make it more fun, there'll be a prize of stitch markers (or something else if you're not a knitter) awarded early next week. It might be randomly selected or I might get Sean to be a judge and choose the best suggestion, or suggestions, because there'll be more than one, I'm sure.
Go for it.

Bells

Bendigo Woollen Mills

Once upon a time, long long ago, there was an elderly woman in my mum's church who was a beautiful knitter and one day she revealed to us the source of her favourite, most often used yarn.



Bendigo Woollen Mills. Back then they didn't have a website and our elderly friend told us how she ordered always by phone or fax. Somehow my mum got hold of a shade card and really, we've never looked back.

Back then, Bendigo provided their goods in 200g (or 7oz) hanks and I'll never forget the first time I sat down to wind a 200g hank of sand coloured cotton. Pretty soon it looked like 200g of spaghetti and it had to be turfed. I was so green. So very green.

My earliest projects, once I left behind the shameful muppet fur of yesterday's post, were knit or crocheted from Bendigo wool, usually Rustic in 8ply. My mum is a natural fibre lover from way back and growing up, all I knew was 8ply pure wool, which is why I am at something of a loss to explain why I slummed it with novelty yarn for a year or so in 2003/2004.



These days, I may have a stash containing some exciting new favourites like Malabrigo, Socks that Rock or Rowan, but for me there's still nothing quite like the delight of the heralded arrival of the Bendigo shade card. Blogland and Ravelry go crazy with speculation and dreaming as one by one, we announce we've recieved our cards.

Bendigo wool isn't everyone's cup of tea. I know there are knitters and crocheters who feel there's a bit too much focus on crepe; or that some of their colours in some of the ranges are a bit limited. Their cotton and baby wool has always been a bit traditional for my liking, a bit too safe. Love the yarn, long for more colours.

But for me, their Rustic, which is sturdy and yet soft, not machine washable and made from pure Australian merino is the wool for me. Here are just a few strands. It comes in the most wonderful colours.



And their alpaca? Oh it's wonderful. I love it.



This year they have a new addition. A much anticipated addition. It's called Luxury, and from the feel of it, it is.



It's so soft and in a departure for Bendigo, it's a machine washable wool that's not a crepe construction.

If you read Samurai Knitter, then you'll know that after a swap we did, Julie became quite the fan and, thanks to Bendigo finally joining the modern age and getting a website, she was able to place an order herself from the US. She often boasts she must be the only holder of a Bendigo Woollen Mills shade card in North America. I wonder if she is?

The prices are amazing, too. For eg, a 200g/7oz ball of Rustic would be AUS$11 or US$7 or ₤4.80. For the quality of it, there's really no beating the value.

Last night, curled up in bed with last year's shade card and the new one, comparing what had changed and what had stayed the same, I was struggling to think of a reason for buying more yarn because I was just longing to place an order. Yeah, I know, like we need a reason.

This morning, I came up with one. My little brother is not so little any more. He's turning 30 in May and given he's so very receptive of my hand knits I want to knit him a Pi Blanket, like the one I made for Sean (he doesn't read this blog so I can write about this safely, I'm sure. Mum, keep it a secret!). A few more hours of deliberating on the colour and I think I'll be ready to buy. And I might just get some of the Luxury, too. And surely I need the alpaca? For something? But which colour? Or colours?

I don't know but I'll have fun choosing.

Though I'm sure I would have discovered Bendigo eventually, I think I will always feel grateful to our elderly friend who shared her secret with me and my Mum all those years ago. For me, it's the fibre equivalent of comfort food. It just feels good and right.

Bells

What Was I Thinking?

Come on, admit it. You've got a deep dark secret in your stash, haven't you?

Didn't most of us start out by thinking that novelty yarn was cool? Who didn't wander into Lincraft, Spotlight or some other big craft store and gush over what can only best be described as Yarn Barf?

I am willing to bet that RoseRed never did. She's always had posh taste in yarn, I'm sure. I dare her to contradict me!

For the rest of us, there was almost certainly a time when Dead Muppet Fur (as I read it called recently) seemed like the height of knitting glory. I look back now and think I must have been insane.

Here is a case in point, dug up tonight when hunting for something in the room where my stash lives - a stash I am proud of now that I've moved on from the early years.

This is a hat I crocheted in something that I can't even identify. It's kindly modelled by Sean.



I had a quick look around the net for green muppets and came up with Pamela.

The hat is rather like her, isn't it? If she had eaten a box of crayons.



Seriously, what was I thinking? Quite apart from anything else, who did I ever think was going to wear this?

And why do I still have it?

I suppose I kept it because I couldn't think of anyone to inflict it on and it reminds me when I come across it from time to time of how far I've come. Even Sean only wore it for the few seconds required.

So when I meet a newish knitter who has an abiding fascination with novelty yarn, I try not to be too judgemental. After all, I don't have to look very hard into my own (relatively recent) knitting past to be reminded that we all start out somewhere.

For the record, this Dead Muppet Fur is surprisingly soft. I can only imagine that the softness of it was what drew me to it back in 2004, signalling a future in which I would love the sensual, soft delights of malabrigo as much as next yarn snob.

So go ahead, post your own shame, if you dare. We all want to see!

Bells

A Day In My Life - April 14 2009

I'm going to do A Day In My Life this month despite misgivings. It was the first day back at work after the four day break - how interesting can it be? Still, I shall do my best to keep you from nodding off if you'll come along with me.

Instead of going moment by moment with a photo to accompany each scintillating second of my Tuesday, I'll give you a mosaic of photos instead, with a little generalised commentary. Honestly, it's better that way!



1. Short Leg Trousers, 2. Passengers, 3. Morning Rain, 4. Tea at work, 5. Rainy City, 6. Me in the Mirro, 7. Mac Gloss, 8. Craft Magazines, 9. Me in the lift, 10. Kiwi Fruit Juice, 11. Hosiery, 12. Early morning

The photos aren't in order of the day but they probably don't need vast amounts of explanation.

We slept late and were on the road at 8:18, a time by which I'm usually at my desk. But as you can see from the grey, rainy shots, it wasn't a day that inspired anyone in Canberra to get out of bed. Not that anyone would have complained, really. We don't see many wet days around here.

In the car, I went through my usual ritual (as a passenger) of checking my make up. Sean always says 'Yes, your face is still there' but he doesn't get that I have to check in case my make up, applied in the light of the bathroom, doesn't look any good in the light of day.

My lipstick almost always goes on in the car. Or on the bus. I don't know why. I rarely leave the house with it on. Currently, I'm loving Mac gloss. Make up checked, I can get on with knitting. Nearly always a sock.

Once at my desk, I made some tea - I often use a tea pot and leaf tea at work. Whatever little rituals make the work day nicer are pretty important, I reckon. That cup was given to me by Adele years ago and has been my work cup ever since.

At lunch time, I went out for some shopping. This isn't how I like to spend my lunch hour but I needed, badly, to get some new winter work trousers. Thankfully, Target makes short leg pants for women like me.

On the way back, I bought my favourite Kiwi Fruit juice from the grocer. Some days, I find it impossible to pass the stand. I should have take a photo. All the plastic containers are piled high on a bed of ice. It's irresistible.

At the newsagency, also on the way back to work, I lingered over the knitting and crochet magazines. There was nothing that spoke to me, since I already got Interweave Knits last week but it's always nice to look. I was hoping to pick up Interweave Crochet. Oh well.

The rest of the day passed in a deskbound blur. When I'd done a few jobs, I spent a bit of time mucking around with my blog. I'm trying to learn some new skills and in doing so, lost all my comments! RoseRed and I panicked by email but I figured out how to get them back. Honestly, I should leave well enough alone.

Once home (by bus), I rode 10km on our new exercise bike; had a delightful package delivered, which I'll write about anon; reheated moussaka for dinner and here I am. The newstory about Phil Spector has just been on and I'm feeling quite sad that someone so talented - those songs! - could end up in such a very sad state, going to prison for the rest of his life.

Shortly, I will knit until bedtime.

So there you have it. My day. Bit of a yawn really but that's what workdays are like.

Bells

Sage

Great progress was made on the February Baby Sweater today.



Thanks to some sage advice from George, I managed to get the sleeve stitches onto stitch holders, thereby avoiding Elizabeth Zimmermann's instructions which would mean knitting the sleeves flat.

I imagine I will continue to ignore all other knitting until this is done, such is my love for it right now.

And speaking of sage, look at this.



My herb garden is bursting with sage at the moment and, fortuitously, the aforementioned autumn issue of Donna Hay features an entire section on recipes using sage. Tonight, we dined on sage. The real treat of this issue of Donna Hay's magazine has been learning about mixing herbs with salt. It seems obvious now, but, beginning with Thyme salt, we've been enthralled.

Tonight, we had chicken roasted with sage leaves under the skin and sage salt delicately adorning the dish before serving.



I'm a total convert to herb salts now - just bung the herb of your choice into a processor with a tablespoon or two of salt flakes and Bob's your uncle.

The sky's the limit, really.

Bells

ps do I really have to go back to work tomorrow? I've been so happy.

Not socks!

The pale blue koigu I'm employing to save my eyes from certain weariness has found a purpose.

It will not be socks.

It will be a February Baby Sweater, Elizabeth Zimmermann's lovely pattern from the February chapter of The Knitter's Almanac.



And who is it for? My still very new little niece Alice who really, really needs to be armed with made-by-Aunty-Bells knitwear by the time Canberra descends into the dark, foggy days of winter.

What baby doesn't need a whole jacket made of Koigu? I know I'd love one, so the next best thing is to make one for her.

I've just started the lace part and it's going quite well. Last time I tried gull stitch I made the mistake of doing so on slightly variegated malabrigo. No deal. This is much better.



And I have to admit that switching from all the black projects to something small, pretty and pale is quite lovely.

Bells

A Sea of Darkness

Late this afternoon, quite appropriately for Easter I thought, the sky turned black.



Just now there's the very distant sound of thunder, somewhere out over the ranges I imagine. It's a good night for bunking down in the glow of candles.



Which also suggests it'll be a good night for knitting, but there's one small concern I have about this. Everything I'm knitting right now is either black or very, very dark.

Exhibit A. Myrtle Leaf Shawl.



Exhibit B. BlackRose Socks.



Exhibit C. Tangled Yoke Cardigan.



While lovely, none of these really lend themselves to night time knitting.

All the while I've been thinking this, two skeins are calling to me from where they sit decoratively on the coffee table in the centre of my lounge room.



I think in the interests of ocular-preservation, I really need to cast on something new with this koigu, don't I? It's the kindest thing I could do really.

*scuttles away to go and dig through sock pattern books and locate ball winder*

Bells