Between Days

Blog silences happen when un-bloggable things are happening. So, bloggable things in quick recap form:

• I'm reading a lot of Georgette Heyers at the moment. I'm on my third in less than a week.
• I've cast on for Helga Isager's Pine in a new Scottish handknitting yarn. I will have to rip it out as I started the brioche stitch section last night at knitting group and Something Clearly Went Wrong.
• Wimbledon is in its second week and I'm really enjoying the coverage. I have always loved watching tennis - not just Wimbledon - and it makes for great knitting TV. Andy Murray is the homegrown hero, but I'm finding it slightly difficult to warm to him as he's of the Agassi school of tennis and I've never been a huge fan of that particular style.
• And I also watched a bit of Glastonbury coverage on Auntie Beeb. Blur were fantastic (surprisingly so as they never were the best live act out there) and made me super-nostalgic for my youthful days.

Back to un-bloggable things.

Recent Acquisitions

My good friend, the old maiden aunt better known as Lilith, is away on holiday and yesterday I went down to West Kilbride to look after her workshop. What did I spend my time doing? Did I pet her handdyed yarns or fondle the abundant piles of spinning fibres?

Of course I did, but actually I spent most of my times winding yarn. You can see the result on the left hand side. My arm hurts ever so slightly today (Lilith needs to get an electric ball winder, I should get myself a ball winder or perhaps I should just stop buying so much laceweight and 3ply).

Here are some of my favourites:

This one just glows, doesn't it?

It was a birthday present from Therese, my creative, funny and amazing friend from Sweden. The yarn is 1-ply organic Gotland wool painted with organic dyes for the Färgkraft co-op. The wool has that rustic, rough handle which I love with all my heart and the colour .. well, my favourite colour  in the whole wide world happens to be moss green.

In other words, this is the most perfect yarn in the entire history of wool.

While I am tempted to cast on for yet another Laminaria, I think this wool doesn't need fancy Estonian stitches or super-complicated patterns. It has so much character that I think we are talking garter or stocking stitch here. Any suggestions are very welcome - right now I'm leaning towards a Faroese style shawl or something similar. You can take a girl out of Scandinavia but..

.. and then this beauty which was a thank-you gift from Lilith for my help. I got to choose any yarn I wanted in her shop which was an absolute treat. I ended up with a 50% suri alpaca/50 % merino laceweight (shock, horror) dyed in the Bracken colourway which forms part of Lilith's Homecoming collection.

I really like the subtlety of Lilith's dyeing. Lilith gets that colours need to work together in order for the knitted-up fabric to work - something many indie dyers forget. This colourway is green but also beige and a bit gray and a touch of light brown with juuust a hint of creamy yellow-green. I don't know how she does it, but it looks stunning and elegant. I might just use this yarn for a very special birthday that's coming up next year.. or another Laminaria for myself?

Finally, a little treat for myself.

West Kilbride promotes itself as Craftstown Scotland which means the high street is littered with interesting little workshops. Lilith's workshop is one; Lorna's Chookiebirdie studio is another.

Lorna' s work is handstitched and handfinished using vintage fabrics. She works a lot with tartan cloth, tweed and Scottish lambswool and does very embellishments with beads and buttons. The first time I encountered her work, I spent a long time drinking in her style and flair. I'm not a handstitcher, but I can definitely draw inspiration from the way she uses embellishments in her projects.

And then I commissioned this little needlecase from her. I love the owl and the moon - and the craftsmanship is astounding. I know a certain widely-read Scottish crafts blogger has been told by Lorna not to blog about her work until Ms Chookiebird comes back from holiday, but seeing as I'm a completely obscure bloggerista, I'm risking Lorna's wrath..

"Are You Sure It Isn't Just Some Fanboy Thing..?"

I saw this* and then I started missing academia once more and also really, really wanted to move to London. But, you know, life isn't so bad. Thursday I'll be baby-sitting the Old Maiden Aunt studio as Lilith's away, so do pop by West Kilbride if you fancy buying some lovely handpainted yarn and a chat over some tea and knitting. Via John (and presumably everybody else on the interwebs): Buffy Summers meets Edward Cullen.

"It's an example of transformative storytelling serving as a visual critique of Edward's character and generally creepy behavior. Seen through Buffy's eyes some of the more patriarchal gender roles and sexist Hollywood tropes embedded in the Twilight saga are exposed in hilarious ways."

As John says, "..I have a sneaking feeling that a Spike meets Edward Cullen remix would [also] be a thing of beauty and a joy forever."

* I nearly fainted when I saw Jewel Spears Brooker was speaking on “The Fire and the Rose: Eliot and Julian of Norwich”. Phoawr!

We're Not in Denmark Anymore

Hello, it's Me Again

I have had the strangest weekend ever. Okay, maybe not ever ever, but it was strange. We went up to Aberdeenshire and strangeness ensured. I'm home now, thank heavens. My partner, Dave, is away at Dr. Sketchy's and it's quiet here. I have ripe plums waiting for me and I am enjoying having bare feet. It's the small things, you see. Two things, though, before a brief spiel about another Finished Object (pictured left):

1) Yes, I speak excellent English. This is not the result of me having met David and lived in Scotland for a few years. You do not need to compliment me on how fast I've picked up English. And do take note when I talk about having lived in the UK on and off since the mid-90s and having a degree in English. This means I'm not an illiterate foreigner who moved here because Scotland is flowing with milk and honey. Yes, really, I get that my English is surprisingly good for a non-native speaker. I KNOW THIS. I DO NOT NEED YOU TO KEEP TELLING ME.

(wow, that felt good)

2) We travelled from Aberdeen to Glasgow on a bus filled with tipsy Aberdonian mums-off-the-leash going to see Take That in concert at Glasgow's Hampden Park. That was slightly .. unsettling. I tried to doze to shut out the painful conversations behind me, but to no avail.

Finished object, then.

I was making a cardigan out of two different colourways of Kauni yarn. The idea was to make a crocheted top-down yoked cardigan (these words make sense if you are a knitter or crocheter, believe me). I finished the main bit of the cardigan, crocheted buttonbands and .. it looked frumpy. No, it looked more than just frumpy: it looked like something taken from What the Hell Is This? modelled by Monica Lewinsky. So, scissors came out and fiddled around with the fabric until it dawned on me that I was holding a rather cool top. I just needed to crochet it together and leave enough room for my big head to pop through.

Thus the Kauni top (also known as Sun Ray) came into existence. I'm rather fond of it as it warms my always-cold backside whilst leaving my arms free to do whatever my arms do. I am already planning a few more - possibly in Kauni, but definitely crocheted in the round. The photo is rather arty and doesn't show the top well, but I was having an awkward photo day and this one is at least semi-presentable.

Next: another crazily busy week interspersed with knitting and hopefully some relaxation. Ha.

Home: Refugee Week 2009

What does home mean to you? When I left Denmark in 2006, I spent the last few weeks living out of my suitcase and sleeping on friends' floors. I liked this sort of transitory existence because I knew I was moving from my old home in Copenhagen to a new home in Glasgow. What I did not know was that this transitory existence would continue for almost a year.

I moved to Glasgow with a suitcase. Twenty-four boxes and a chair followed quickly. I slept in a proper bed and I had a wardrobe for my clothes, but the place never felt like home. My keys did not work, my books were all in boxes and my name was not on the door. This is when I learned how important Home is.

If you do not have a home, you will not feel like you belong. If you do not have a home, you will not feel like you have rights. If you do not have a home, you do not feel safe. If you do not have a home, you will not feel whole.

We moved, of course, and I have a home now. We have bookcases (and need more, quite frankly), unwashed coffee mugs, internet connection, window sills with an ever-growing collection of clay pipes, a cupboard of yarn, and a view of green treetops. I have we because home is not home without David.

Moving to Glasgow exhausted me, mentally and physically, and mine was a voluntary move - I cannot begin to imagine what an involuntary move somewhere (caused by war, famine or persecution) would do to a human being.

(Thank you, Katherine, for alerting me to Refugee Week Scotland)