We're off to Norfolk for a couple of nights. though we're staying with my parents in King's Lynn, Graham's aim is to go to an Assumptiontide service in Walsingham. I won't be joining him in the church but will go along for the (very complicated) ride. We're taking a bus from Lynn to Fakenham; another from Fakenham to Walsingham; after the service we'll catch a bus to Wells Next the Sea. We'll then return to Lynn on the Coast Hopper, which runs through such alluring places as Holkham, Burnham Market and Thornham (I think Thornham Creek has to be one of the most beautiful places that I know) before going on to Hunstanton and Heacham, then along the main road back to Lynn. If the weather is good we'll do a bit of hopping off and walking, but we're not holding any breath! (We could also, of course, hop from Wells to Sheringham or even Cromer before hopping back to Lynn but that might be too much excitement for one day).
And now on to the real escape...I've handed my notice in at work despite not having found another job yet. Sometimes bold moves have to be made and this is one of those times.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Saturday, August 09, 2008
stalled
Sorry I've been a bit quiet of late, nothing really wrong (but let's just say I'm scanning job ads very eagerly!)
I've also been quite busy. Sunday before last saw my first-ever solo stall. The event was truly charming: cream tea in the Needham Institute (part of Cambridge Uni's Oriental Studies Department), organised by a small committee that raises money to sponsor children overseas through primary school. This is the same committee that organises the village's art show each year. I'd asked if I could be included in that but, apparently, the overall feeling is that crochet isn't art so I was offered the chance to do this instead, with the comittee taking 20% commission on sales.
Needless to say the footfall was far lower than it would have been at the art exhibition and I'm not sure that people attending had been told that there would be craft on sale. Add to that an overwhelmingly hot day (would you want to pick up, let alone buy, a mohair scarf on a hot day?) and, well,
unsurpisingly, I didn't sell a great deal but I did have fun setting the stall up and finally got round to investing in some Moo mini cards to hand out. Time to track down some craft fairs I think.
Since then I've been hard at work on yet another crop of corsages and now I'm working on a project for the "Ravelympics". (Note for the uninitiated: the "Ravelympics" is simply a challenge to Ravelry members to do something new/different/challenging during the duration of the Olympics.) A large bevy of KToggers gathered in the garden of the Cambridge Blue early yesterday evening to start our projects off. I'm freeforming an alien lifeform, here's my progress so far...
Last, but by no means least, if you get a chance to go and see Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, seize it. I managed to get some preview tickets, so Liz and I went to see it on Tuesday evening. A gentle, jazz-age fairy tale: fabulous soundtrack, gorgeous costumes and just enough reality mixed in with the champagne bubbles.
I've also been quite busy. Sunday before last saw my first-ever solo stall. The event was truly charming: cream tea in the Needham Institute (part of Cambridge Uni's Oriental Studies Department), organised by a small committee that raises money to sponsor children overseas through primary school. This is the same committee that organises the village's art show each year. I'd asked if I could be included in that but, apparently, the overall feeling is that crochet isn't art so I was offered the chance to do this instead, with the comittee taking 20% commission on sales.
Needless to say the footfall was far lower than it would have been at the art exhibition and I'm not sure that people attending had been told that there would be craft on sale. Add to that an overwhelmingly hot day (would you want to pick up, let alone buy, a mohair scarf on a hot day?) and, well,
unsurpisingly, I didn't sell a great deal but I did have fun setting the stall up and finally got round to investing in some Moo mini cards to hand out. Time to track down some craft fairs I think.
Since then I've been hard at work on yet another crop of corsages and now I'm working on a project for the "Ravelympics". (Note for the uninitiated: the "Ravelympics" is simply a challenge to Ravelry members to do something new/different/challenging during the duration of the Olympics.) A large bevy of KToggers gathered in the garden of the Cambridge Blue early yesterday evening to start our projects off. I'm freeforming an alien lifeform, here's my progress so far...
Last, but by no means least, if you get a chance to go and see Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, seize it. I managed to get some preview tickets, so Liz and I went to see it on Tuesday evening. A gentle, jazz-age fairy tale: fabulous soundtrack, gorgeous costumes and just enough reality mixed in with the champagne bubbles.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Her first KIP
There are days in a young girl's life that she'll never forget; so I wonder how my niece will look back on her first KIP (that's Knitting In Public, for the uninitiated)?
We had a brilliant time together at the end of last week. She added a request to my list of things to do:"help nate wrist warmer" and by 5.30am (!) she was rewinding some of the yarn she painted on her visit here last year. She selected a wonderful mulitcoloured wool: mainly pinks and turquoises, with shots of purples, greens and yellow but also asked if we could buy some black yarn as she wanted stripes. (vertical stripes at that, this was also her first knitting design). She also discovered that her older sister must have appropriated all the needles. So we set off to Chelmsford with a cunning plan: buy black yarn, buy needles, visit all-you-can-eat-Chinese-buffet, buy purple nail varnish (all the better for showing off your wristwarmer).
Having eaten far too much (neither of us had room for the free ice cream, imagine that) we plonked ourselves on a bench and cast on. At first she was a bit anxious ("suppose people stare at us, what if I someone I know sees me?") but soon she was engrossed. As Miss Pegs knitted, I crocheted. We weren't jeered at but I did see several people looking on in surprise and one elderly lady gave me a thumbs up, which was rather wonderful).
Once home, Pegs put the dvd of St Trinians (new version) on, and soon proved that she could multi-task, quickly getting the hang of knitting whilst watching (it took me years to get that far, clearly my Mum has had a far better pupil in Miss Pegs than she had in me!) She stopped, reluctantly, for a meal of cheese and lettuce followed by raspberries, cream and chocolate cake (the sort of meal that aunties devise for hot days, particularly aunties who want maximum crocheting, minimum meal prepping time) then knitted on whilst watching strange programmes on strange channels with names like "Scuzz" and "Dave". (How can you have a TV channel called Dave? Yes, Auntie has yet to enter the brave, far-from-new, world of Freeview).
Towards the end she started to get a bit tired, so asked me to do the last 10 rows, whilst she made a dress out of a blue bin liner, ready for scout camp. Note how both wristwarmer and dress were very successful.
And I was amused to see that she was still wearing the wristwarmer when she headed off to Scout camp the next day, with a pack that is almost as large as she is.
I was delighted to see her showing the wrist warmer off to her friends, too, saying, very proudly: "I made that!"
We had a brilliant time together at the end of last week. She added a request to my list of things to do:"help nate wrist warmer" and by 5.30am (!) she was rewinding some of the yarn she painted on her visit here last year. She selected a wonderful mulitcoloured wool: mainly pinks and turquoises, with shots of purples, greens and yellow but also asked if we could buy some black yarn as she wanted stripes. (vertical stripes at that, this was also her first knitting design). She also discovered that her older sister must have appropriated all the needles. So we set off to Chelmsford with a cunning plan: buy black yarn, buy needles, visit all-you-can-eat-Chinese-buffet, buy purple nail varnish (all the better for showing off your wristwarmer).
Having eaten far too much (neither of us had room for the free ice cream, imagine that) we plonked ourselves on a bench and cast on. At first she was a bit anxious ("suppose people stare at us, what if I someone I know sees me?") but soon she was engrossed. As Miss Pegs knitted, I crocheted. We weren't jeered at but I did see several people looking on in surprise and one elderly lady gave me a thumbs up, which was rather wonderful).
Once home, Pegs put the dvd of St Trinians (new version) on, and soon proved that she could multi-task, quickly getting the hang of knitting whilst watching (it took me years to get that far, clearly my Mum has had a far better pupil in Miss Pegs than she had in me!) She stopped, reluctantly, for a meal of cheese and lettuce followed by raspberries, cream and chocolate cake (the sort of meal that aunties devise for hot days, particularly aunties who want maximum crocheting, minimum meal prepping time) then knitted on whilst watching strange programmes on strange channels with names like "Scuzz" and "Dave". (How can you have a TV channel called Dave? Yes, Auntie has yet to enter the brave, far-from-new, world of Freeview).
Towards the end she started to get a bit tired, so asked me to do the last 10 rows, whilst she made a dress out of a blue bin liner, ready for scout camp. Note how both wristwarmer and dress were very successful.
And I was amused to see that she was still wearing the wristwarmer when she headed off to Scout camp the next day, with a pack that is almost as large as she is.
I was delighted to see her showing the wrist warmer off to her friends, too, saying, very proudly: "I made that!"
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
fun in the offing...
My sister has put out an SOS to The Flying Auntie Serivce, so I'm off to have some fun with my younger niece. Here she is mowing the garden for us whilst visiting last year. Note that she has stolen Uncle Graham's hat.
I gather that her current interests are makeup and getting muddy (and, apparently, it is vital to put make up on before going out and getting muddy)so I'll be taking plenty of cleanser and soap with me...
I gather that her current interests are makeup and getting muddy (and, apparently, it is vital to put make up on before going out and getting muddy)so I'll be taking plenty of cleanser and soap with me...
Friday, July 18, 2008
mossy wall pot (updated)
There are times when a girl falls in love with the oddest things, such as this wall, just outside Cockermouth:
As Lakeland walls go, it isn't an especially romantic one. The stones are quite large and I feel sure that mortar has been deployed in its construction (no doubt there are health and safety rules to ensure that any wall with integral stile must be constructed so that it is held together by more than gravity!) But I loved the variety in colour in the stone (there are iron seams very close by, which may explain the pinky-red colour that you can see in places) and, in particular, the lumpy, bumpy surfaces. I was also quite struck by the splotchy wash of mud (or was it cowdung?) at the bottom.
Even as I squeezed through the stile (and it was a squeeze, believe me) a pot began to take shape in my brain. Grey wool, shot through with flashes of other shades of stone. (How would I do that? Tapestry crochet? Applying another colour on the surface later? Spike stitches?) A few muddy lowlights at the bottom. Lumps and bumps. How about capturing some of the greenery that was sprouting from the side, or would that be too much? Before long we were in a wooded valley, where virtually every surface was covered with moss. Moss that reminded me of some very green, very frondy yarn (something by Crystal Palace, I think) that I'd purchased from Woolly Workshop 2 or 3 years ago, with no particular project in view. I pictured a wall topped with moss, then turned my mind, eyes and ears towards the urgent business of squirrel-spotting; all thoughts of crochet were forgotten.
Once back home, on the edge of the Fens, I decided to use one of my mossy photos (the "green candyfloss" of last week's blog entry) as my avatar on Ravelry. Fellow Raveller Danielle mentioned that she thought it might have been something that I'd crocheted... prompting me to remember the walk, the wall, the moss, the planned pot....
A quick dip into the "yarns for felting" bag and I had grey eco wool (for the stone), a scrap of brown eco wool (for the mud/cowdung), Freedom spirit in a greyish/reddish/brownish mix for the colour variation in the stone). Then a dive into my freeform stash (subcategory: posh/expensive/use in moderation yarns) for Rowan tweedy 4-plys (which I've been collecting for years) in 2 shades of green and for the aforementioned Crystal Palace frondy stuff.
Then the fun began. Streaks of mud and lumps and bumps. Seams of ore. Always two yarns spiralling their way up the pot, but only one colour at a time being used for the stitches, the other just being caught in place. Most of the time I was working in half trebles but, whenever I felt like it, I'd put a few more wraps round the hook and work into a stitch further down or off to one side. Sudden increases and decreases were carefully stacked to form pouches in the sides.
It was slow going (though it guzzled up yarn alarmingly quickly), but I enjoyed it. Finally, it was moss time. For most of the time I worked with all three moss yarns held together, increasing in every third or fourth stitch on the first row and every stitch on the second. I (deliberately) worked just the first fifth or so of the third row, to emphasise a bulge. And every so often I made a tiny deviation. Using just one of the greens and a small hook I did a small chain, worked a few half trebles in the end of it and slipstitched my way back, to make a few little fruiting fronds.
Then the terror set in. This would be the first time I'd felted something with so many different yarns and textures. Into the machine it went (with one small sea anemone pot, and two pots destined to be fringed anemones). I kept going through to the garage to see what was happening. Would the synthetic green fluff melt at 40 degrees? (Fortunately not).Would it shed over the other pots? (No, thank goodness.) Would all my textural and colour work be flattened out and muted by the felting process? (Slightly, but not too much).
And here, at last, is a more respectable photo than that originally used!
As Lakeland walls go, it isn't an especially romantic one. The stones are quite large and I feel sure that mortar has been deployed in its construction (no doubt there are health and safety rules to ensure that any wall with integral stile must be constructed so that it is held together by more than gravity!) But I loved the variety in colour in the stone (there are iron seams very close by, which may explain the pinky-red colour that you can see in places) and, in particular, the lumpy, bumpy surfaces. I was also quite struck by the splotchy wash of mud (or was it cowdung?) at the bottom.
Even as I squeezed through the stile (and it was a squeeze, believe me) a pot began to take shape in my brain. Grey wool, shot through with flashes of other shades of stone. (How would I do that? Tapestry crochet? Applying another colour on the surface later? Spike stitches?) A few muddy lowlights at the bottom. Lumps and bumps. How about capturing some of the greenery that was sprouting from the side, or would that be too much? Before long we were in a wooded valley, where virtually every surface was covered with moss. Moss that reminded me of some very green, very frondy yarn (something by Crystal Palace, I think) that I'd purchased from Woolly Workshop 2 or 3 years ago, with no particular project in view. I pictured a wall topped with moss, then turned my mind, eyes and ears towards the urgent business of squirrel-spotting; all thoughts of crochet were forgotten.
Once back home, on the edge of the Fens, I decided to use one of my mossy photos (the "green candyfloss" of last week's blog entry) as my avatar on Ravelry. Fellow Raveller Danielle mentioned that she thought it might have been something that I'd crocheted... prompting me to remember the walk, the wall, the moss, the planned pot....
A quick dip into the "yarns for felting" bag and I had grey eco wool (for the stone), a scrap of brown eco wool (for the mud/cowdung), Freedom spirit in a greyish/reddish/brownish mix for the colour variation in the stone). Then a dive into my freeform stash (subcategory: posh/expensive/use in moderation yarns) for Rowan tweedy 4-plys (which I've been collecting for years) in 2 shades of green and for the aforementioned Crystal Palace frondy stuff.
Then the fun began. Streaks of mud and lumps and bumps. Seams of ore. Always two yarns spiralling their way up the pot, but only one colour at a time being used for the stitches, the other just being caught in place. Most of the time I was working in half trebles but, whenever I felt like it, I'd put a few more wraps round the hook and work into a stitch further down or off to one side. Sudden increases and decreases were carefully stacked to form pouches in the sides.
It was slow going (though it guzzled up yarn alarmingly quickly), but I enjoyed it. Finally, it was moss time. For most of the time I worked with all three moss yarns held together, increasing in every third or fourth stitch on the first row and every stitch on the second. I (deliberately) worked just the first fifth or so of the third row, to emphasise a bulge. And every so often I made a tiny deviation. Using just one of the greens and a small hook I did a small chain, worked a few half trebles in the end of it and slipstitched my way back, to make a few little fruiting fronds.
Then the terror set in. This would be the first time I'd felted something with so many different yarns and textures. Into the machine it went (with one small sea anemone pot, and two pots destined to be fringed anemones). I kept going through to the garage to see what was happening. Would the synthetic green fluff melt at 40 degrees? (Fortunately not).Would it shed over the other pots? (No, thank goodness.) Would all my textural and colour work be flattened out and muted by the felting process? (Slightly, but not too much).
And here, at last, is a more respectable photo than that originally used!
Sunday, July 13, 2008
green candlyfloss and cumberland sausage
I think one of the greatest joys of our recent trip to Cumbria was the chance to explore a landscape so very different from the flatlands that we live in. Here's Graham hitting the trail, somewhere between Strawberry How Farm and Slate Fell
It was a fairly short walk (about 5 miles) but even so we found a remarkable range of wildflowers, including ragged robin and some orchids.
I'd hoped that we might get a glimpse of red squirrels, particularly as we staying very near Cockermouth's cemetery, a known red squirrel haunt. Someone managed to spot one next to the road. Someone else saw two of them playing in the grounds of the Youth Hostel. Alas, I failed, even though we also went on a 10-mile hike to another top red squirrel-sighting point. But I wouldn't have missed that walk for anything!
We headed out from Cockermouth towards Redmaine, then from there we went across clover-strewn pasture into a steeply-sided, deeply-wooded hidden valley
before emerging in Isel. Passing through the valley, I was particularly amused by some branches so thickly wrapped in moss that they looked like green candyfloss.
Whilst we totally failed to find the local squirrel colony, we did enjoy visiting Isel Church.
There are even ancient sundials carved into the church wall:
From Isel, we headed steeply uphill through a wooded track (where Graham acquired a rather stunning stick),
then descended through pastureland back into Cockermouth. Here I saw a mustelid of some type (still not sure whether it was a weasel or a stoat) and some fabulous views.
Back in Cockermouth, we headed straight for liquid refreshment (in my case, a couple of pints of lime and soda with ginger beer chasers: I was seriously thirsty). And then I had a rare outbreak of meat-eating! somehow it seemed rude to be in Cumbria and not order Cumberland sausage. It was every bit as tasty as it looks!
It was a fairly short walk (about 5 miles) but even so we found a remarkable range of wildflowers, including ragged robin and some orchids.I'd hoped that we might get a glimpse of red squirrels, particularly as we staying very near Cockermouth's cemetery, a known red squirrel haunt. Someone managed to spot one next to the road. Someone else saw two of them playing in the grounds of the Youth Hostel. Alas, I failed, even though we also went on a 10-mile hike to another top red squirrel-sighting point. But I wouldn't have missed that walk for anything!
We headed out from Cockermouth towards Redmaine, then from there we went across clover-strewn pasture into a steeply-sided, deeply-wooded hidden valley
before emerging in Isel. Passing through the valley, I was particularly amused by some branches so thickly wrapped in moss that they looked like green candyfloss.
Whilst we totally failed to find the local squirrel colony, we did enjoy visiting Isel Church.
There are even ancient sundials carved into the church wall:
From Isel, we headed steeply uphill through a wooded track (where Graham acquired a rather stunning stick),
then descended through pastureland back into Cockermouth. Here I saw a mustelid of some type (still not sure whether it was a weasel or a stoat) and some fabulous views.
Back in Cockermouth, we headed straight for liquid refreshment (in my case, a couple of pints of lime and soda with ginger beer chasers: I was seriously thirsty). And then I had a rare outbreak of meat-eating! somehow it seemed rude to be in Cumbria and not order Cumberland sausage. It was every bit as tasty as it looks!
Friday, July 11, 2008
UK Swap - question(s) for week 5
This week we've been asked to answer lots of quick fire questions, then type the answers into goolge images, select one image from the first page for each search term and paste URLs into a mosaic-maker... I'm just going with the questions, as our internet connection is so cussed at the moment that I can't ven upload pics to blogger without it cutting out, boo!
1. Stop or go? Go.
2. Going out or Staying in? Staying in.
3. Small town or big city? Neither; give me villages, market towns of any size and small cities, please!
4. Happy or sad? Happy.
5. Straights or Circulars? Crochet hooks!
6. Red or Blue? Red.
7. Seaside or countryside? Both together.
8. Fish or chips? Mushy peas.
9. Surprises or plans? Surprises.
10. Wine or beer? Cider (or gin).
11. Sweaters or cardigans? Cardis
12. Pizza or Pasta? Pasta.
13. Chopsticks or fork? Fork.
14. Early Bird or Night Owl? Early owl (ie up at 7.45am, bed by 11pm)
15. Knitting or crochet? Crochet.
16. Hot or cold? Cold.
1. Stop or go? Go.
2. Going out or Staying in? Staying in.
3. Small town or big city? Neither; give me villages, market towns of any size and small cities, please!
4. Happy or sad? Happy.
5. Straights or Circulars? Crochet hooks!
6. Red or Blue? Red.
7. Seaside or countryside? Both together.
8. Fish or chips? Mushy peas.
9. Surprises or plans? Surprises.
10. Wine or beer? Cider (or gin).
11. Sweaters or cardigans? Cardis
12. Pizza or Pasta? Pasta.
13. Chopsticks or fork? Fork.
14. Early Bird or Night Owl? Early owl (ie up at 7.45am, bed by 11pm)
15. Knitting or crochet? Crochet.
16. Hot or cold? Cold.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
sea anemone mania
Yes, after last year's dose of ripplemania, I'm now totally hooked on sea anemones. I've been making my hyperbolic pots for several months now (and they're selling really well) but I've also decided to make some variations.
Firstly, after I accidentally felted some pots in a 60 degree wash, rather than a 40 degree, I discovered that the smaller size as popular with customers. (Thus proving that every cloud has a silver lining). I also decided to follow up on my hunch that some colours of The Freedom Spirit yarn felted much more drastically than others. This meant getting (by my standards, at least), all serious and scientific. I crocheted 3 pots to exactly the same pattern (I usually just increase/decrease wherever and whenever I feel like it, varying the rate of shaping following my mood). I threw them into the washing machine together. And look:
Firstly, after I accidentally felted some pots in a 60 degree wash, rather than a 40 degree, I discovered that the smaller size as popular with customers. (Thus proving that every cloud has a silver lining). I also decided to follow up on my hunch that some colours of The Freedom Spirit yarn felted much more drastically than others. This meant getting (by my standards, at least), all serious and scientific. I crocheted 3 pots to exactly the same pattern (I usually just increase/decrease wherever and whenever I feel like it, varying the rate of shaping following my mood). I threw them into the washing machine together. And look:
three distinctly different sizes. The red pot has felted to the same degree as most of the larget pots I'd made. The lightest colour has shrunk least (sometimes I've had to give pots in this colour a second wash to get them fulled enough, but this one isn't too bad). And as for the tuquoise one: plumptious and tactile, but oh-so-tiny.
Then on to my next plan. When visiting Norfolk Yarn earlier in the year I saw some dyed Wensleydale locks and hit on the idea of some fringed anemones. I felt that a mad fringe deserved a sober background, so was delighted to discover Sirdar's Eco DK in Sew Creative. I picked out the natural brown colour and had 2 pots ready and waiting for their fringes before heading to Woolfest. Whilst there were locks aplenty for sale (Teesdale, as well as Wensleydale) I fell for the utterly gorgeous colours (and bargain price) of Willo Alpacas' bags of rainbow dyed shetland/masham cross fleece. I've still got plenty of the red left and some fabulous blues and greens to play with, so I bought more Eco Wool at Sew Creative today, in grey and in cream. It'll be particularly interesting to see how the various shades of Eco wool felt.
Finally, here's a little cluster of anemones on the table. I love arranging them en masse.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
faux fossils
I've been fascinated by fossils ever since I can remember, so I suppose it was only a matter of time before I attempted to make some with yarn. (Though I went off fossils for a while after my 40th birthday, when my cheeky little sister presented me with a tiny Smarties box, filled with even tinier fossils and labelled "fossils for an old fossil". Cheers, Hilla!)
Whenever I looked at the beigey/browny/greyish colourway of Freedom Spirit I'd pictured rock (the non-edible variety, not the lovely pink sticks that Jo has recently recreated in felt!). So I whipped up, and felted, a very simple bowl shape. Then the fun began...
It took four attempts beore I finally had exactly what I needed,
Whenever I looked at the beigey/browny/greyish colourway of Freedom Spirit I'd pictured rock (the non-edible variety, not the lovely pink sticks that Jo has recently recreated in felt!). So I whipped up, and felted, a very simple bowl shape. Then the fun began...
It took four attempts beore I finally had exactly what I needed,
though I have to admit that my favourite is the Mk3 version.
Here's the finished bowl, with Mk 4 sewn on.
If you're interested in how these were made, I've put exhaustive notes up on Flickr and fellow-Ravellers can look at my notebook.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Wild, Wet and Woolly...
Back from wonderful break in Cumbria (including Woolfest) Many pictures taken, many tales to tell. Am about to work about 9 days without a proper day off, so report may not be immediate.
Must now go and help Mr Caught Knitting; no sooner are we back than he is off to a conference...
Must now go and help Mr Caught Knitting; no sooner are we back than he is off to a conference...
Sunday, June 22, 2008
nom de crochet
Forget the nom de plume, I have a nom de crochet.
This clashingly colourful object of mine is on display in the Hayward with The International Coral Reef, and my name is given as "Rosy Sykes".
Note how it is next to a quote about "sea-mucous"!
This clashingly colourful object of mine is on display in the Hayward with The International Coral Reef, and my name is given as "Rosy Sykes".
Note how it is next to a quote about "sea-mucous"!
busy!
I've been spoilt (by Sarah, blogless) via Zoe's Bookmark Swap
I've been ambling around the local botanic gardens with my friend Tamy
And I dragged my sister along to the crochet jam at The Royal Festival Hall, where she had her first-ever crochet lesson
picked things up quickly
and soon had her very own hyperbolic coral to add to the UK reef
Yay, Sister!!!
Another fun-filled week stretches ahead of me, so watch this space.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
It was 34 years ago today...
Mum and I were off down memory lane when I 'phoned her this evening. She'd seen footage of the Queen's (official) birthday procession and asked if I could remember the time we went to see it. Which she insists was in 1974. Gulp. It can't have been that long ago since I was 13...
Now, whilst she remembers that we had to tell my little sister when to jump (so that she could get a glimpse of the Queen over the sea of faces) and that the salads in Selfridges were served on plates that were still hot from being washed up (ugh), my memories are slightly different. First of all, I remember that I was delighted to get tongue with my salad. Does anyone still eat tongue? Secondly, it was a blisteringly hot day, so when it suddenly rained we saw steam rising from the pavements of Oxford Street. Ah, Oxford Street: my first-ever visit there. It was on this trip that I first discovered Miss Selfridge. Mum remembers the jacket I got there: a sage green denim blazer. I also remember the olive green skirt that I got to go with it. It had an elasticated belt with it and since one of the belt loops was broken Mum negotiated a sizeable discount. (I love the way mums teach you these useful things!) And I got a neat little straw hat, which I name Mams'elle Chritofunnel (the story behind the name is a long one, stretching back to 1966 or thereabouts, and yes, I still give my straw hats names).
But most of all I remember the corasge that I wanted to buy to complete my outfit. Oh, how I wanted it. A soft green rose, just tinged with pink at the edges. But mother put her foot down, uttering the unforgettable words: "No, they're what tar...er, nasty girls wear". Could this be why I now spend several hours a week crocheting corasges to sell to feed my hooking habit?
(Oh, and sorry about the absence of pictures. This week I've walked from Cromer to Sheringham but forgot my camera. I went to Norwich but found the batteries were flat. And at WWKIP I was so busy crocheting/chatting/eating cake and daintily sipping ribena and G&T-- though not both at once-- that I forgot to buy replacement batteries. Sigh)
Now, whilst she remembers that we had to tell my little sister when to jump (so that she could get a glimpse of the Queen over the sea of faces) and that the salads in Selfridges were served on plates that were still hot from being washed up (ugh), my memories are slightly different. First of all, I remember that I was delighted to get tongue with my salad. Does anyone still eat tongue? Secondly, it was a blisteringly hot day, so when it suddenly rained we saw steam rising from the pavements of Oxford Street. Ah, Oxford Street: my first-ever visit there. It was on this trip that I first discovered Miss Selfridge. Mum remembers the jacket I got there: a sage green denim blazer. I also remember the olive green skirt that I got to go with it. It had an elasticated belt with it and since one of the belt loops was broken Mum negotiated a sizeable discount. (I love the way mums teach you these useful things!) And I got a neat little straw hat, which I name Mams'elle Chritofunnel (the story behind the name is a long one, stretching back to 1966 or thereabouts, and yes, I still give my straw hats names).
But most of all I remember the corasge that I wanted to buy to complete my outfit. Oh, how I wanted it. A soft green rose, just tinged with pink at the edges. But mother put her foot down, uttering the unforgettable words: "No, they're what tar...er, nasty girls wear". Could this be why I now spend several hours a week crocheting corasges to sell to feed my hooking habit?
(Oh, and sorry about the absence of pictures. This week I've walked from Cromer to Sheringham but forgot my camera. I went to Norwich but found the batteries were flat. And at WWKIP I was so busy crocheting/chatting/eating cake and daintily sipping ribena and G&T-- though not both at once-- that I forgot to buy replacement batteries. Sigh)
UK Swap Question of the Week
Saturday 14th June is World Wide Knitting in Public day.
What are you doing to participate in WWKIP day on Saturday?
Saturday was a brilliant day but (renegade that I am) I must confess that I was crocheting in public... First of all about a dozen of us assembled outside Sew Creative, where chairs, bunting and even a parasol were waiting for us. The lovely staff (waves to Janine, Jill and Allison) were plying us with Ribena, tea, coffee and cakes and choccie biccies, mmm. And we were awarded 10% discount cards, valid until the end of August. Mine has already saved me over £3.00 (ahem) with a colourful assortment of balls of Twilleys Freedoms Spirit, ready for making felted pots. (I've made 5 in the last 4 days, so the new yarn was essential, oh yes). From Sew Creative we headed to Parkers Piece where some 20+ of us knitted (and 3 of us crocheted) alongside the Country Fair. They even had a tent where I was able to get a Gin and Tonic, mmm. So it is probably just as well that I headed home at about 3.30pm, before a posse of knitters headed off to a local hostelry.
I'm hoping to be able to link to some pics soon.
What is the strangest place you have ever knit?
Depends what you mean by strange! If we're talking exotic, then I've knitted in the Drakensberg Mountains in South Africa, and with my feet dangling over the Pacific Ocean in the Marina in San Diego. If we're talking liable to raise eyebrows, then I've crocheted in both Norwich and Ely cathedrals (but not during services, as I never go to services!). The most bizarre position I have knitted in is lying face down on my bed with hands jutting out over the foot of the bed. I was in agony with sciatica but determined to knit bootees for my best friend's first baby. I dislocated my jaw in the process.
What are you doing to participate in WWKIP day on Saturday?
Saturday was a brilliant day but (renegade that I am) I must confess that I was crocheting in public... First of all about a dozen of us assembled outside Sew Creative, where chairs, bunting and even a parasol were waiting for us. The lovely staff (waves to Janine, Jill and Allison) were plying us with Ribena, tea, coffee and cakes and choccie biccies, mmm. And we were awarded 10% discount cards, valid until the end of August. Mine has already saved me over £3.00 (ahem) with a colourful assortment of balls of Twilleys Freedoms Spirit, ready for making felted pots. (I've made 5 in the last 4 days, so the new yarn was essential, oh yes). From Sew Creative we headed to Parkers Piece where some 20+ of us knitted (and 3 of us crocheted) alongside the Country Fair. They even had a tent where I was able to get a Gin and Tonic, mmm. So it is probably just as well that I headed home at about 3.30pm, before a posse of knitters headed off to a local hostelry.
I'm hoping to be able to link to some pics soon.
What is the strangest place you have ever knit?
Depends what you mean by strange! If we're talking exotic, then I've knitted in the Drakensberg Mountains in South Africa, and with my feet dangling over the Pacific Ocean in the Marina in San Diego. If we're talking liable to raise eyebrows, then I've crocheted in both Norwich and Ely cathedrals (but not during services, as I never go to services!). The most bizarre position I have knitted in is lying face down on my bed with hands jutting out over the foot of the bed. I was in agony with sciatica but determined to knit bootees for my best friend's first baby. I dislocated my jaw in the process.
Saturday, June 07, 2008
In Praise of Fresh Air
First of all, a promise: there will be photo posts coming soon! Meantime, read on to enjoy trips into the Cambridgeshire Countryside!
Though the hayfever season is here (and there has been much sniffling and sneezing chez Caught Knitting) I still love being outdoors and the last two days have been wonderful.
My friend Tamy (scroll down past the ripple scarves to see her!) is back in the UK but currently a bit too jetlagged to spend the whole day researching in the University Library, so yesterday we ambled through the meadows to Granchester and back. All that cow parsley that dominated the landscape so recently has faded, now there are tall waving grasses as far as the eye can see.
And today I went to Wimpole Hall's Woolcraft Weekend, with Marianne and Barry. As well as seeing a demonstration of sheep-shearing methods ancient and modern we had a wonderful time admiring the farm animals, especially the naughty little Tamworth piglets who kept squeezing through the railings. Marianne got some superb pictures of them but what the camera can't capture is the sounds: I was particularly amused by an exhausted sow snoring and almost overwhelmed by the noise of a Shire Horse peeing (what enormous bladders they must have...)
It was a fabulous outing but the naughty National Trust kept tempting me with things like freshly-baked cheese scones, bacon butties made from local pigs and local ice cream. After so many calories I decided that it would be a very good idea for Graham and I to wonder round a few local fields after we ate supper this evening. I'm so glad we did as we were rewarded with glimpses of larks and lots of birdsong.
Now I'm off to do some spinning on Radish in the hope that one day I'll be as good as the ladies from North Herts spinners who were demonstrating at Wimpole.
Though the hayfever season is here (and there has been much sniffling and sneezing chez Caught Knitting) I still love being outdoors and the last two days have been wonderful.
My friend Tamy (scroll down past the ripple scarves to see her!) is back in the UK but currently a bit too jetlagged to spend the whole day researching in the University Library, so yesterday we ambled through the meadows to Granchester and back. All that cow parsley that dominated the landscape so recently has faded, now there are tall waving grasses as far as the eye can see.
And today I went to Wimpole Hall's Woolcraft Weekend, with Marianne and Barry. As well as seeing a demonstration of sheep-shearing methods ancient and modern we had a wonderful time admiring the farm animals, especially the naughty little Tamworth piglets who kept squeezing through the railings. Marianne got some superb pictures of them but what the camera can't capture is the sounds: I was particularly amused by an exhausted sow snoring and almost overwhelmed by the noise of a Shire Horse peeing (what enormous bladders they must have...)
It was a fabulous outing but the naughty National Trust kept tempting me with things like freshly-baked cheese scones, bacon butties made from local pigs and local ice cream. After so many calories I decided that it would be a very good idea for Graham and I to wonder round a few local fields after we ate supper this evening. I'm so glad we did as we were rewarded with glimpses of larks and lots of birdsong.
Now I'm off to do some spinning on Radish in the hope that one day I'll be as good as the ladies from North Herts spinners who were demonstrating at Wimpole.
Friday, June 06, 2008
coral reef update
Earlier today I was telling a friend about the crocheted coral reef project (and trying to persuade her to join me at the hyperbolic crochet jam at the Royal Festival Hall on 21 June, noon-3pm). As we were near a computer at the time I tracked down the Institute for Figuring's website and clicked on the London Exhibition link. Scrolling down the page I suddenly spotted two of my tube anemones (the green pair in the second reef-in-progress photo). Nowhere near as stunning as the gorgeously bright and candy-striped work by Ildiko Szabo but I am so excited.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
musical interlude
No, this is NOT an angry rant about the outcome of I'd Do Anything! (If you haven't followed the series, then you really won't be interested. If you have, well let's just say that I think John Barrowman and Denise Van Outen are lousy judges. Jessie was robbed thanks to their malign influence over an undirscriminating public. Jodie certainly does consistent, but oh so bland and cheesy. I won't pay to go and see her. I love Oliver, so Jessie--or, indeed, Sarah or even Rachel, would've been different...). Oh dear, I appear to have given my rant. Moving swiftly on...
Glancing through the Fitzwilliam Museum programme recently, I was thrilled to spot a lunchtime harpsichord recital. My mother adores harpsichords and I share her love so I suggested that she and Dad join me and Graham there. The programme was celebrating the 150th anniversary of the birth of Arnold Dolmetsch
If, like me, you played the recorder during schooldays, you may well be more familiar with the work of his son, Carl Frederick, who compiled lots of recorder books for schools. Needless to say, the programme had a real "early music" flavour. And we loved it! (Though I was surprised to notice Ma's nose wrinkle up at one point, only to have my nostrils assailed seconds later. Still, I suppose that afflaetus causes less disruption to a concert than coughing or nose blowing...)
After such a treat I found myself at quite a loose end the following day (both Graham and his daughter are in deep in the throes of academic masterworks at the moment and both of them wanted to use the computer; it was one of those "I'm outta here" moments!) So I headed off to Ely, planning an idle day of rootling through the antiques centre and the market stalls. But I found myself drawn to the cathedral. (No, not the stirrings of Christian sentiment in my breast, just the call of an ancient monument and the joy of sacred space, no matter to whom--or what--it is dedicated). And as I went in I spotted a small notice advertising a choral recital later that afternoon. I had no idea what the programme would be but, as the admission charge was merely a donation on the way out (if you see what I mean) I decided to give it a go.
If, like me, you played the recorder during schooldays, you may well be more familiar with the work of his son, Carl Frederick, who compiled lots of recorder books for schools. Needless to say, the programme had a real "early music" flavour. And we loved it! (Though I was surprised to notice Ma's nose wrinkle up at one point, only to have my nostrils assailed seconds later. Still, I suppose that afflaetus causes less disruption to a concert than coughing or nose blowing...)
After such a treat I found myself at quite a loose end the following day (both Graham and his daughter are in deep in the throes of academic masterworks at the moment and both of them wanted to use the computer; it was one of those "I'm outta here" moments!) So I headed off to Ely, planning an idle day of rootling through the antiques centre and the market stalls. But I found myself drawn to the cathedral. (No, not the stirrings of Christian sentiment in my breast, just the call of an ancient monument and the joy of sacred space, no matter to whom--or what--it is dedicated). And as I went in I spotted a small notice advertising a choral recital later that afternoon. I had no idea what the programme would be but, as the admission charge was merely a donation on the way out (if you see what I mean) I decided to give it a go.
What serendipity. The acoustics in the Lady Chapel are bizarre: you will be flummoxed by even the clearest of diction, yet you can tell preciesly which singer is making which sound. You can differentiate bewteen each alto, each tenor. As the choir launched into Palestrina my spine tingled, and the hairs of my arms stood on end. As they moved into Peter Philips' ascendit deus, a praticular favourite of mine, there were tears in my eyes. That was the absolute high point but the rest of the programme was inspired: a couple of Victorian church pieces, it is true, but alos Britten's Hymn to St Cecelia; an e.e. cummings poem and, to conclude an American spiritual arranged by Bob Chilcott.
The performance, by the University of London Chamber choir, was outstanding and the Lady Chapel just amazing. If you've never been it is a cavernous space with white walls, flooded with light from windows largely devoid of stained glass. It is a wounded space, ravaged by Cromwell's followers who erased faces on the many little human figures carved round the sides, but it reamins triumphant. Cromwell's men left the grotesques carved above the friezes and the focal point is a modern, very sexy, statue of Mary (by David Wynne) looking anything but demure and virginal. Her hair is impossibly golden, her complexion improbably fair, her hips sashay (surely she is dancing) and, whilst her eyes are looking down (with token modesty)her nipples, pointing heavenwards, defy gravity!
It was, truly, an unforgettable afternoon. (The music so sublime that I couldn't face watching I'd Do Anything that evening, preferring to let the dying notes of the last piece echo around my brain).
What an extraordinary gift that recital was. Maybe concerts-- like buses (and men, but that's another story)--come along in twos.
How not to tidy your desk...(secret diary of a procrastinator aged 47 and a half...)
1. Start on Friday by removing large piles of paper and stacking them precariously on the floor so that the desk at least looks tidy and so that step daughter can use the desk and computer over the weekend. Promise spouse (and self) that it will be your number-one-top-proirity-no-excuses-made way to spend your next day off. (Today, Wednesday!).
2. Oversleep on Wednesday and wake up with slight headache. Decide to read in bed for a while to see if headache goes. It doesn't, so try sleeping a bit longer... That doesn't work, and time now nearly 10am, so try shower. Slight improvement. Sort laundry and put first load in washing machine.
3. Decide that it would be a very good idea to check through all email accounts, ravelry, friends' blogs etc in case any replies are needed. Explain to spouse that this is really urgent and, anyway, it would be much easier to tidy desk whilst he is out teaching this afternoon, thus giving me entire run of study. (He can be so gullible). Unload washing and spread over clothes horses as sky looks so grey.
4. Brainwave! If I have an early lunch then I will have lots of afternoon to do tidying in. After lunch, realise that there is lots of afternoon stretching ahead of me, and thus decide that it wouldn't harm to have a bit of a break before tidying starts. Catch up with the serials in People's Friend (people don't believe me when I tell them that this is my favourite magazine, but just remove my watch from me sometime, and you'll see that its a prize from their "Love Darg" in 2000). Something in People's Friend reminds me of something I want to google for. In reflex action I accidentally log in to ravelry and go blog hopping. Discover rather intriguing quiz, but am shocked by result:
2. Oversleep on Wednesday and wake up with slight headache. Decide to read in bed for a while to see if headache goes. It doesn't, so try sleeping a bit longer... That doesn't work, and time now nearly 10am, so try shower. Slight improvement. Sort laundry and put first load in washing machine.
3. Decide that it would be a very good idea to check through all email accounts, ravelry, friends' blogs etc in case any replies are needed. Explain to spouse that this is really urgent and, anyway, it would be much easier to tidy desk whilst he is out teaching this afternoon, thus giving me entire run of study. (He can be so gullible). Unload washing and spread over clothes horses as sky looks so grey.
4. Brainwave! If I have an early lunch then I will have lots of afternoon to do tidying in. After lunch, realise that there is lots of afternoon stretching ahead of me, and thus decide that it wouldn't harm to have a bit of a break before tidying starts. Catch up with the serials in People's Friend (people don't believe me when I tell them that this is my favourite magazine, but just remove my watch from me sometime, and you'll see that its a prize from their "Love Darg" in 2000). Something in People's Friend reminds me of something I want to google for. In reflex action I accidentally log in to ravelry and go blog hopping. Discover rather intriguing quiz, but am shocked by result:
Horrors! I am sensible and boring. Now feel even less like tidying desk, in case I live up to quiz's utter misdiagnosis.
Think I'll begin by removing all distracting craft materials/projects from study. Might help if computer is moved to another room, too. Suspect main problem lies in the fact that most of the "compost" on my desk is unclassifiable. Feel like crying. Admit to self that real literary heroine is Mary Lennox in The Secret Garden. Most particularly in the chapter called "I Won't, said Mary!"
Help! Anyone got any handy hints on how to make tidying painless (nb please do not say "regular filing"). Oh, and there is a very tempting sticky choc cake in the kitchen but spouse has taken careful note of its dimensions and will know if I cave in...
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Five Things Meme
I've been tagged by Wibbo, so here goes:
The Rules
Each player answers the questions about themselves. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5-6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.
1. What I was doing 10 years ago:
Living in a student room at Essex University, where I was immersed in a Master's Degree which had the most off-putting title: MA Literature (Women Writing). I was also busy getting divorced, but managed to keep my sanity by regularly hopping on buses/trains to Essex coastal towns. I'd just discovered a rather wonderful yarn shop in Clacton (Bowen & Wallace; they've no web page but were at 72 Pier Avenue and were staffed by real enthusiasts). I'd also just purchased a lovely wicker hamper which was rapidly filling up with stash.
2. What 5 things are on on my to-do list for today (not in any particular order):
Hmm, well, there are things I probably should have done today (rounded up papers for tax return; laundry; tidied living room; sorted through toppling tower of books to decide which ones could go off to Oxfam/Amnesty and planted the runner bean plants a neighbour has given us). BUT both Graham and his daughter are writing to deadlines at the moment (L is finishing her PhD diss on animals in Southern African Fiction; G is working on a paper for a forthcoming conference on Geoffrey Hill) so I decided that the best thing to do was to go out for the day. So here are 5 things that I actually did do today: travelled though the fens by bus (Stagecoach services 12 and 9); paid my first-ever visit to Ely Museum; paid my umpteenth visit to Ely Cathedral (where I got to hear the most amazing recital in the Lady Chapel...more of that in another post); treated myself to ribbons and buttons; cooked a lentil, vegetable and potato bake.
3. Snacks I enjoy:
Twiglets, blueberry yoghurt raisins, crystallised ginger, oatcakes with peanut butter or with cheddar cheese and chutney; dark choc.
4. Things I would do if I was a billionaire:
Travel the UK and then world (picking up as many knitting, crochet and spinning tips as possible, not to mention a truly global stash) and fund education projects for women all over the world.
5. Places I have lived:
Liverpool (until I was almost 4 years old); King's Lynn (for the rest of my childhood); Manchester (utterly disastrous stab at a degree in Medieval Studies); Bromsgrove (living at my aunt and uncle's for a year, whilst doing a secretarial diploma...I failed most of that, as well!); New Malden (London commuting days); St Albans (whilst there I actually managed to get a degree from the University of Hertfordshire); Wivenhoe (got that MA!) and a couple of locations on the outskirts of Cambridge (Where I started, but abandoned, aPhD). (Hmm, this appears to have turned into "places where I have studied!")
Well, that was the easy bit. Now I've got to think of people to tag. Trouble is, I think lots of people have done this meme already, but I'm going to suggest Siret; Susie; Lyndsay-Jane; Linda and Heather...
The Rules
Each player answers the questions about themselves. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5-6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.
1. What I was doing 10 years ago:
Living in a student room at Essex University, where I was immersed in a Master's Degree which had the most off-putting title: MA Literature (Women Writing). I was also busy getting divorced, but managed to keep my sanity by regularly hopping on buses/trains to Essex coastal towns. I'd just discovered a rather wonderful yarn shop in Clacton (Bowen & Wallace; they've no web page but were at 72 Pier Avenue and were staffed by real enthusiasts). I'd also just purchased a lovely wicker hamper which was rapidly filling up with stash.
2. What 5 things are on on my to-do list for today (not in any particular order):
Hmm, well, there are things I probably should have done today (rounded up papers for tax return; laundry; tidied living room; sorted through toppling tower of books to decide which ones could go off to Oxfam/Amnesty and planted the runner bean plants a neighbour has given us). BUT both Graham and his daughter are writing to deadlines at the moment (L is finishing her PhD diss on animals in Southern African Fiction; G is working on a paper for a forthcoming conference on Geoffrey Hill) so I decided that the best thing to do was to go out for the day. So here are 5 things that I actually did do today: travelled though the fens by bus (Stagecoach services 12 and 9); paid my first-ever visit to Ely Museum; paid my umpteenth visit to Ely Cathedral (where I got to hear the most amazing recital in the Lady Chapel...more of that in another post); treated myself to ribbons and buttons; cooked a lentil, vegetable and potato bake.
3. Snacks I enjoy:
Twiglets, blueberry yoghurt raisins, crystallised ginger, oatcakes with peanut butter or with cheddar cheese and chutney; dark choc.
4. Things I would do if I was a billionaire:
Travel the UK and then world (picking up as many knitting, crochet and spinning tips as possible, not to mention a truly global stash) and fund education projects for women all over the world.
5. Places I have lived:
Liverpool (until I was almost 4 years old); King's Lynn (for the rest of my childhood); Manchester (utterly disastrous stab at a degree in Medieval Studies); Bromsgrove (living at my aunt and uncle's for a year, whilst doing a secretarial diploma...I failed most of that, as well!); New Malden (London commuting days); St Albans (whilst there I actually managed to get a degree from the University of Hertfordshire); Wivenhoe (got that MA!) and a couple of locations on the outskirts of Cambridge (Where I started, but abandoned, aPhD). (Hmm, this appears to have turned into "places where I have studied!")
Well, that was the easy bit. Now I've got to think of people to tag. Trouble is, I think lots of people have done this meme already, but I'm going to suggest Siret; Susie; Lyndsay-Jane; Linda and Heather...
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