a simple yarn

Okay, be honest… does anyone really enjoy swatching?

I find knitting little samples to assure myself of the right gauge to be rather boring and avoid it whenever I can. Yes, I know it saves time in the long run. But what then do I do with this 4×4-inch bit of worked-up yarn? I suppose if I were really creative, I’d keep every single one and eventually make a patchwork quilt. Sigh, I’m just not that ingenious…

Given such feelings, how ironic then that the time I’ve spent on the stair tread project has resulted in one oversized swatch. What began as a tangle of pre-felted I-cord knit to a random length of 315 inches (because I couldn’t be bothered to knit any more and didn’t want to cut off any unused length)…

…ended up as a tangle of post-felted I-cord duly shrunk to a length of 212 inches. That’s a fairly normal result of about 67% of the original length.

After winding it around and pinning into place, I come out with a mat that’s 4.5 x 21 inches. Hmm…what size should a stair tread ought to be? Oops, probably should’ve googled that one before starting.

Erm, regular retail braided rug stair treads measure 8 x 28 inches. Rats, not nearly there. But I have an impression (based on nothing at all really) that our cottage steps are not quite full size. Need Husband-Will to do a quick measure of ‘em before he comes to Dublin. After doing a bit of who-knows-if-its-relevant mathematical computations, I estimate that I need to knit at least another 315 inches of pre-felted I-cord to get a mat that’s nearly the size of the retail ones.

So, what to do with my swatch…um, a nifty trivet perhaps?

Well I thought that by this time I would be busy.
Really busy.
Extremely busy.
But we’ve decided to let the professionals come in and pack up all our worldly goods.
It will take them about 2 days to pack up and load the container.
Self packing would entail about 4 weeks of chaotic upheaval.
So let them do it.
Nice and easy.
Costly, but easy.

So, what do I do with all this time not spent packing boxes?
Deciding what will fit into the limited space, sorting, organizing, giving away, throwing away…

…and the odd bit of furniture-restoration-style-crafting. See that china cupboard?

A lovely old primitive piece, filled with wood worm and destined for the burn pile. Can’t envision that, but thanks to the generosity of Lucy-Of-The-Lodge, I can now envision it holding cones and skeins of yarn in my new fibre workroom (studio would be too lofty a term, I think).

So, time to roll up the sleeves and de-bug it before the movers come. A few coats of bug-killer and oil should do the trick before it’s loaded into the container. And here’s hoping that the bug’s life in this case is a very short one.

Yep, a nice little souvenir from Ireland.

Or rather, shamrocks of the sugary kind…

Saturday baking came earlier this week as Daughter-Kate was enlisted to bring biscuits, er sorry…cookies, to school on Friday, a shortened party day in anticipation of upcoming St. Patrick’s Day and the two-week-end-of-term-Easter-holiday. So, what else would I bake but sugar cookie shamrocks?

As I hunt for the shamrock cookie cutter, which I am absolutely positively sure that I own I realise, after an exasperating search, that…oops, I was wrong. Cutters of all shapes and sizes but no shamrock. Rats. What am I gonna do? For crying out loud, I live in the country now and can’t just hop in the car to the nearest Cookie-Cutters-R-Us! Grrrr….

Right, not to be undone by this setback, I dig around for Irishy alternatives.
Gingerbread-Men-Turned-Leprechaun?
Jumping-Reindeer-Disguised-As-The-Island?
Santa-Incognito-As-A-Pudgy-St. Patrick?

Aha! The simplest solution found an unused circle scone cutter reshaped into a trefoil…love the power of pliers…

Admittedly the dough shapes looked a little shaky but the magic of baking covers a multitude of cookie cutting sins.

The icing…green, of course. Didn’t have any store bought sugar sprinkles, but substituted granulated sugar whizzed with a bit of green food colouring.

Apologies, Irish Cultural Baking Diversion:
The icing which is found here is a mysterious entity to me, the North American baker. The icing in Ireland, or the British Isles, or even perhaps Europe is usually that hard-roll-it-out-to-form-fit-the-cake type stuff and to be honest…it scares me a little. I admit I have never used it as the thought of it gives my hands little tremors. Where’s the fluffy frosting that I’m used to?

So, you will appreciate my relief when, a few years ago, this little familiar package finally made it to Irish supermarket shelves….and so my sugar cookies are saved!

Ah, baking is done and I’ve got plenty of sugary shamrocks for Kate’s class…and Alex’s…and the Infants class…the entire school, actually…yep, it’s a small school.

*english = ‘biscuit’

May have to get more of this…

…to take care of this.

Just collected from the lovely ladies, Lisa and Jacqui, at This Is Knit, who graciously sponsored the Crafts Category at this year’s Irish Blog Awards. Wow (again).

Now that my head has been sufficiently turned, I must turn back to knitting. Inspired to knit a lace-bolero-type-accessory-thing for summer wedding attire. But need to finish the heavily-wool-winter-jumper first. Grr…

And what appeared on my pincushion, fashioned by Daughter-Kate?

Happy Valentine’s Day…

With the rise in popularity of the ‘slow food movement,’ is a ‘slow communication movement’ also possible?

A few years ago, Daughter-Kate and I dug this rather unimpressive box out of a neighbouring skip.

While generally shabby, closer examination found it to bear certain marks of character and style…inlaid mother of pearl monogram, satin lining of the bluest blue, and an equally royal blue velveteen writing surface.

You see, we found a lovely old writing desk, reminiscent of another unhurried time, when correspondence was measured in weeks and months, rather than seconds and minutes.

In 1874, Platt Rogers Spencer would have advocated that “writing is almost as important as speaking, as a medium for communicating thought. For this reason it is said that ‘writing is a secondary power of speech, and they who cannot write are in part mute.’ Scrawls that cannot be read may be compared to talking that cannot be understood; and writing difficult to decipher, to stammering speech.”

Hmmm….wonder what my handwriting says of me (the above sample not being mine!)? Mostly that I’m hurried, I suppose, stammering lines on a page when I dare to pick up a pen at all. But I’ve always admired beautifully crafted letters on a page. Hey, I remember being taught Spencerian penmanship in primary school…!

With nothing preventing me but my own thinking and untrained hand muscles, why not shut my computer, pick up a pen, dip it in real ink and have a go? Do I think handwriting will replace the keyboard? Of course not, but you know, with practice my correspondence might have less of a stutter!

Well….whichever it is, I’ve committed it.

I live in the land of the Aran jumper. You know, cream-multi-stitch-knitted-marvels, periodically coming into and going out of the hearts of fashion, but a staple to knittingdom nonetheless.

I am the owner of an aran-inspired knit cardigan. Cotton, not wool, but still intricate in its hand-knit-but-not-by-me stitchery.

And so…

Warning: Rationalisation Diversion Ahead
…I never wear it anymore. It sits in my wardrobe, yellowing with time. Oh sure, I wore it when I was a L’Oreal-Number-Seven-brunette, but those days are no more. And to wear it now? Hmmm….I’m sure I would tire of the enquiries after my health as I’d look so poorly…pale cardigan, pale skin, pale hair. The gray of the hair and cream of the fibre fighting it out for supremacy, with my complexion as the loser. No thank you.

Right, so living simply means trying to minimize excess and I can’t bear to have this cardigan taking up precious storage space. Okay, diversion done…

Cold weather is upon us and now drastic steps have been taken in the quest for a new piece of winter apparel.

As the cardigan is 100% cotton and washable, it’s a great candidate for sporting a new colour, sympathetic to my new colouring.

Instructions are fairly clear. In goes the dye. In goes the salt. In goes the dampened cardigan. Shut goes the door….oh my goodness….what have I done?!? Sigh. Can’t go back now. No changing of the mind. I can’t watch as the dye runs through every single fibre of the cardigan. Gonna distract myself by taking down Christmas decorations…

(A few hours later…)

Final result? Have to say that the in-real-life colour is a darker, truer green…

If you’re an aran purist, my deepest apologies, but treason or no, I’m quite happy with the results!

The Making-Of-The-Christmas-Costumes-Ceremony, oh joy.

I’m sure you have overheard or been an active participant in a conversation something like this…

Kids: ‘Mom, we need some costumes for the Christmas concert.’

Mom: ‘Right, what d’ya need?’

Kids: ‘Only some Santa hats.’

Mom: ‘No problem, when do you need ‘em?’

Kids: ‘Tomorrow.’

Mom: ‘Ack…..!’

Okay, so truth be told, it wasn’t like that this year with the Kiddies, but it certainly has happened before. News, in this lovely country, tends to travel by word-of-mouth, which eliminates the need for

a) newsletters

b) sign posts

c) land line phones

Okay, so truth be told (again), it’s really not that bad, but I’ve gotta take it on faith that my kids have come home with accurate information and that they do indeed need two Santa hats by Friday.

I confess, I’m just too cheap to buy the ones in the shop. Isn’t that why I have red felt, glue gun and metres of undyed Blue Faced Leister roving/top and yummy Craftspun Homespun yarn sitting in the cupboard? A little bit of crafting and…

…two Santa hats, just in time.

If everyone has one bit of inspiration waiting to be set loose, then this would be mine.

In a brief moment of clarity, I could see the design. After that, an endless stream of prototypes. Then deciphering cryptic notes on bits of paper. Can’t imagine doing anything three-dimensional…
But it’s done and it’s published and I’m happy.

You can find the Knitty.com pattern here.

Warning: Shameless Ireland Promotion Ahead

The coolest thing about doing this was the opportunity to promote Irish wool. Say what you will about other new-to-the-market tweeds, but Kilcarra’s an original and simply the best. I get mine from Friends-Warren-And-Jenny at Craftspun Yarns in Co. Kildare. And lest I forget, many thanks to Mandy, who works with Knitty, for her technical editing wizardry.

So, what d’ya think the family are getting for Christmas?

Postscript for Neck Preferences:

I happen to like things close and tight around my neck. Baggy necklines? Not for me…nope. But the thought has occurred to me that not everyone likes that same degree of firmness around their windpipe…perhaps giving them noose nightmares and I wouldn’t want to feel responsible, so…

If you use 5mm/US8 needles (the recommended needle size for aran weight yarn), you will gain a few extra inches in the length and then make it as tight or as loose as you desire with the button placement.

Whew, I feel better now.

‘Craft on Thursday’ still means furniture restoration these days.

The fibre finger is still itching, but days are filled with other types of crafts. Today’s work involves four old wooden chairs found in the shed, a bit of wood wash, a touch of sandpaper and new covers for the seats.

Fabric came from an old upholstery sample book picked up from Friend-Erica-Who-Used-To-Be-In-The-Sofa-Design-And-Manufacture-Business. I like the variety rather than uniformity, so each chair has a personality and place of its own!

I’m needin’ some gratification of the ‘instant’ kind.

Picked up hammer, tacks and fabric in order to recover some chair seats today.
Tacks are too long.
Arg.
Maybe no one will notice.
Hmmm….can anyone ignore tiny little prickles in their bum?
Best not attempt it for the sake of preserving friendships.
Arg (again).
No other projects can be started or finished right now.
Arg (for the third time).

Right, out comes a small project, which is guaranteed to be finished within the hour.
Bought a moccasin slipper kit in the US.
Not really a moccasin-wearing-type-of-girl, but I have neither the time nor the inclination to do another pair of felted slippers and floors are chilly in the mornings.

So the pre-cut-pre-holed-pre-shaped-idiot-mocs are just the thing.
After a series of ‘put-Lace-A-into-Hole-B’ moves, I now have something to wear on my feet.
Okay, the sizing is not that great and the sole is a bit thin, but the leather is soft and a simple pair of cushy insoles will do the job!

I’m gratified…..in an instant.

So what happens when you combine Craft on Thursday with Photograph on Friday? It’s another go with Guest-Photographers-Daughter-And-Son and a view through their lens.

My time in the US was not entirely without craft. During our family holiday to Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia, Daughter-Kate was completely captivated by a long red woolen cape. I was completely paralysed by the $99 price tag. And as well-intentioned-mothers are sometimes apt to do, I said placatingly, ‘Don’t worry dear, I can always make you one.’

I was not allowed to forget my words.

So, during the exceedingly hot and humid Midwestern summer, I sat in my inlaws’ cool basement and crafted a long red cape. ‘Wherever will she wear it?’ I grumbled to myself, ‘All this work for a whim.’ But those words are easily forgotten.

What joy a few yards of fabric and thread make in the life of a child, who imagines herself to be…

Red Riding Hood or

Dracula or

Superman (while in the hands of her brother)

Better get that sewing machine as I foresee a second cape in the making.