blanket fort

I didn't knit this cowl.

But, oh knitting gods forgive me, I did unravel it.

It was still painful to see those lovely, even stitches disappear even though I didn't make them myself. The yarn is, of course, Brooklyn Tweed Loft in 'blanket fort', the colourway that I refused to buy more of because I was determined, oh so stubbornly determined, to finish my Cladonia without. This cowl, given to me, yes given to me by the incredibly generous jnbrkly, for the express purpose of unravelling it so that I could use the yarn. Hooray!

It came home (to Australia) from home (in Seattle) with Tim last night. Double hooray! He had to go back to the US for a conference (in Seattle of all places, from which we had just packed up and moved) and it has been a very long week or so just me and the children, still in the throes of emotional jetlag and adjustment anxiety. It has been four weeks now since we arrived in Melbourne. On the one hand it feels like forever (I did grow up here, I have lived here forever on and off) and on the other as though it has just been a few days.

Ahh, nothing that a bit of knitting and actually finishing a long-suffering project won't fix though (that and the bottle of duty-free gin - ha ha! no, am saving that for a special occasion, truly).

change

They say that change is good (not sure which 'they', the conceptual unembodied 'they' I guess). It gets you out of a rut, introduces you to new people, places, challenges, etcetera.

Hmm, I think it depends on just how much change, whether it's a piddly five cents worth of change, that you don't even realise is in your pocket. Or one of those big, heavy, multi-sided fifty-cents worth of change. Not surprisingly, we're embarking on the latter. See you on Thursday on the other side (of the world).

baudelaire [les chausettes du mal]

The Vital Statistics
Pattern: Baudelaire by Cookie A, available free from Knitty.
Size: Umm, my size (9.5). I didn't do the high instep modification.
Yarn: Froehlich Wolle Special Blauband in 177 - claret, bought in Zurich way back when; 2 skeins.
Needles: 2.25mm
Start to finish: 10 November 2008 to 31 March 2012.
Stash/recycle content: Not really.

Comments: What is there for me to say about these socks that I have not already over the course of the past three-and-a-half years? It's not the pattern that's evil, just this pair. Well, pair is a bit idealised - one is certainly harder to get on than the other, and one is two rows of ribbing short but oh well. These socks were one of my New Year's Resolutions to finish last year.
Verdict: Done.

sweet home

Alabama!

Alabama Chanin!

I fulfilled a dream and went to Florence, Alabama for a weekend by myself to a sewing workshop at Alabama Chanin. It was really wonderful, the people were lovely, the inspiration was overwhelming, the beauty was palpable. I have all three Alabama Chanin books and have worked (sporadically) on my dress; still, it was incredible to actually be there and touch real Alabama Chanin-made Alabama Chanin garments. And they are exquisite, really exquisite.

Now I'm home sweet home in Seattle - the best thing about going away.

summer snowballs

After a reasonably calm June and July, summer has just started to snowball in August. Friends from San Francisco to stay, a weekend in San Francisco for miss bear and I, a visit from my mum, an upcoming visit from relatives of Tim, and all sorts of getting ready for school activities. That's right, miss bear is off to school on 7th of September. Unbelievable.

And a visit to the snow, truly, in the middle of summer. We visited the absolutely incredible Big Four Ice Caves: "Formed from cascading water and warm winds hollowing out heaps of avalanche-deposited snow, the caves usually appear by midsummer."

The ceiling, so to speak, of these hollowed out caves has an amazing texture, formed I gather by the droplets of water. No stalactites but this concave baffled effect. The picture is hazy because there is icy water vapour pouring out of the caves the whole time.

It was a great walk on a beautiful day and I really felt like I could be nowhere more beautiful in that very moment. Strongly recommended for anyone who lives in or is visiting the Seattle area. And because they are naturally formed, or rather re-formed, every year, every year they are different. I can't wait to go again.

that one sweet promenade

I want to see the sun go down from St Kilda Esplanade
Where the beach needs reconstruction, where the palm trees have it hard
I'd give you all of Sydney Harbour, all that land and all that water
For that one sweet promenade

We are sufficiently recovered from our trip to Melbourne that I can actually stop and reflect on it a bit. I love Australian singer-songwriter Paul Kelly's work and particularly this song, From St Kilda to King's Cross. Maybe it's that Melbourne-Sydney rivalry thing but ah, that one sweet promenade ...

This is actually a song that Tim plays on his guitar and sings, so this last trip when I caught the tram with miss bear along St Kilda Esplanade, I pointed out the palm trees to her and reminded her of the song. She recently saw a picture of somewhere and said 'look, it's Australia'.

It really is true, my past is a foreign country.

home sweet home

It's all been a bit erratic around here lately, mostly because our spring break actually took us to Australia for three weeks. Now we're back home, from home. It's all a bit confusing really and that's not just because of the time difference (which is playing havoc with sleeping routines; we got up at 3pm today).

The flights were long (and I did the one there by myself with the two children as Tim was already in Australia for other matters - you can fit one adult, one child and one toddler into an airplane bathroom), our time there was hectic and wonderful and bittersweet. I caught up with old friends, met new friends (hi Leonie!), caught up with family, spent quality hours and hours at the US consulate, watched my children play with my childhood friends' children; they were supposed to grow up together, that was bittersweet.

And I went op shopping - hooray! One precious Friday afternoon solo stroll down Chapel Street, Windsor and various other opportunist stops in the course of our trip. In all it yielded:

MECWA Windsor - Dr Suess ABC game, one ball of Heirloom Alpaca
Sacred Heart Mission, Windsor - Ojay blouse to be refashioned into a dress, Country Road blouse for the lovely material, silver shoes for miss bear and this Nicola Cerini bag for $5
Salvation Army, Windsor - Rainbow Fish card game, a vintage framed story book page with a dear rabbit picture
Salvation Army, St Kilda - princess dress-up dress, Aquascutum coat, card game, Anna Sui blouse, Immune skirt
Yarraville - Miffy book
Glenhuntly - baby toys, children's Birkenstocks ($1!)
And various books from all over.

What I love about Melbourne op shopping is that it really is a case of finding the gem, as opposed to Seattle-area thrift stores which are like huge supermarkets of barely used goods. More details of some of the clothes purchases to come.

utah

My FedEx package has arrived in Utah! But as it turns out, I've already been there.

Yes, last year we had a long weekend in Salt Lake City (that coincided with Tim having a conference there and a night in the Grand Baroque Hotel, I mean, Grand America).

My trip to Salt Lake started when I borrowed the incredible book Knitting America: a glorious heritage from warm socks to high art by Susan Straw. There were lots of examples in there of incredible knitting done by Mormon pioneer women so I took my obliging family off to the Daughters of Utah Pioneers' Pioneer Memorial Museum. It was mind boggling. Truly, my mind boggled - at the museum itself, at everything in it, at the hours and hours, weeks, years, decades worth of work that must have gone in to the amazing array of handwork that was on display.

About the display - I am no museologist but I love to visit museums and I do think that this one qualifies as distinctly old fashioned in its manner of displaying the collection, the whole collection, all at once it seems. There is case upon case containing shelf upon shelf of quilts, lace, needlework, hair ornaments, jewellry, what-nots and what-evers. In fact there is so much on display that you can barely see any of it for all of the stimulation crowding in upon you on the next shelf, in the next case, on the next floor.

And this was sad because what they have there is absolutely amazing, I don't even know where to begin (which is sort of like the experience of actually being there). I really felt addled by the end of our couple of hours of visit and also a tad teary at the idea that I am here, a hundred years later, still knitting and crocheting and sewing (and in America), a sort of kinship with women a world and lifestyle away from my own.

grits are good for you

What a great image, yes? We had a fantastic lunch at the Hominy Grill in Charleston (thank you Blair for directing me to the city guide on design*sponge). The restaurant was wonderful, in an old building with an amazing pressed metal ceiling (do look at their photo gallery), yummy food and boiled peanuts. We didn't even order these, they just ended up on the table, an obligatory gustatory experience I guess. They are raw peanuts, boiled for ten hours in brine.

And for my birthday I went to knit night at Knit. No purchases because I truly do not need any more yarn but so much fun to get out and do something regular in an irregular place and chat to other knitters.

done done done

Done!!

456 rows. Two borders of 66 rows each, 324 lace rows, that's 81 repeats, lace both sides.

Done done done!!

And considering that in March this year I was truly doubting my ability to continue with this project, I am super happy. After finishing those central lace repeats just four days ago, I got through the second 66-row border in no time. I've done a preliminary wet blocking but without pinning it, just to stretch it out so that the slipped edge stitches are easier to locate for the knitted-on edging. I can do this!!

(And I've also located a couple more balls of the yarn so I actually can, physically, do the edging too. Phew, I was a bit worried for some moments. Just a reminder - this is recycled yarn from a dress that I bought at Savers in Las Vegas so there's no more after this. It also means that the panel above, folded in half, was all knit with a single thread.)

fabrika

In Savannah I did manage to pop into Fabrika, partly because that's the sort of thing that I like to check out and partly because it was conveniently located directly on the route between the cathedral where the wedding was held and our hotel.

It's a small shop, blissfully air-conditioned (a blessing even in late September). I have to be honest that I don't remember much about the fabric selection; I rarely buy new fabric and mostly wander around soaking up colours and textures and inspiration.

What I did pick up are these great silicone thimbles, one in each size. That hand-stitching on my alabama dress is hard on my fingertips and somehow the other day I managed to stab myself quite deeply in the pad of my middle finger, enough to draw blood. And that was with the blunt end of the needle - ouch! It is taking some time to get used to sewing with a thimble but if it saves me from further wounds I'll be ever so grateful.

Alas, I didn't make it to Wild Fibre in Savannah, but as a birthday present, when we were in Charleston ...

savannah

So, we went to Savannah a few weeks ago for a wedding. Tim was asked to be a groomsman for a friend from high school who also lives here in the US. Being such a long way from home and family and friends as we are, it was delightful to be included in such a significant ceremony.

It's some years ago since I read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil and I wish that I had had time to look at it again before we went. As it was I just managed to paint my toenails and that was an achievement. The photo above is the flooring in a cafe down the street from our hotel, apparently original to the building and over 100 years old. I love the colours and the shapes.

Travelling with children is mostly about just getting through the day, keeping the littlies adequately fed and watered, and if you're lucky doing or seeing one or two things. In Savannah we managed to visit the Juliette Gordon Low birthplace (she was founder of the Girl Scouts) and popped in to Goodwill (of course) and Gap (even more mundane but I needed to buy undies).

and we're back

Oh it's been an erratic past few weeks - my mum was visiting early in September and then we headed off on vacation to Georgia and South Carolina for the better part of ten days. 'Vacation' - that's still a hard word for me to use but 'holiday' here in the US very much refers to a 'holy day' such as Christmas, Easter or, unh, Hallowe'en.

We had a wonderful time away and I'll have some more photos and stories shortly. But this was quite possibly the best bit:

My birthday card from little miss bear on Hunting Island beach after swimming in the Atlantic (for the first time) with dolphins frolicking out yonder.

out, damned moth!

Thankfully we don't actually have any moths but I can't resist a literary allusion when I think of one. But a few friends recently have had or feared moth problems so I decided on pre-emptive action and sewed up some lavender sachets. I wanted to use a fine, light-weight fabric so that the lavender scent would easily escape, so to speak, and decided upon some Swiss cotton handkerchiefs that I bought at op shops in Zurich when we visited a couple of years ago.

A couple of them weren't in very good condition after going through the wash but that was ok, I just cut some fabric out around the damage and sewed up the sachets. I bought a set of fine sewing machine needles especially for the task and promptly misplaced them. I had an inkling that for such a light-weight fabric I should alter the tension of the presser foot pressure or some such but, well, I was too lazy to look it up. So I just sewed - no problems.

Now each closet and cupboard with woollens therein also has a lavender sachet and (I hope) no moths.

(3*36+66)/456*2/3

We have spent the last couple of days on Orcas Island in a beach house perched upon a bluff above a pebble beach with a stunning view out across Puget Sound and various other islands. Deer wandered through our garden as I sat on the deck in the moist misty morning and completed a few more rows on my Knitted Veil. That's where the maths comes in - I am a quarter of the way through!!

It was wonderful to get out of town although a bit stressful too with small children, especially making sure that there were enough changes of clothes to keep a certain little boy dry and clean (he stayed dry, not so clean but I've given up on that). Orcas Island was beautiful, as is the whole San Juan Islands area; just the ferry ride from Anacortes to Orcas felt like a cruise in itself. One thing that really struck Tim and I was the (to us) overwhelming private ownership of the land there, particularly the beaches. It just felt wrong. We had a private beach as part of our accommodation but were exhorted to not stray beyond the big white boulder or the pink survey tape. Pink survey tape? There may be some cachet in the exclusivity of a private beach but ah, not in pink survey tape.

I'm not sure whether I have written about this before but the main thing that has struck me in so many ways about the US since we moved here is the rampant individualism. I am currently sleep-deprived and a bit addled by a head cold/hayfever mix, so my skills of sociological analysis are not really up to the task of elaborating on this. I just eagerly await publication of E Unus Plures: American individualism and the shaping of the nation (I'm just making this up but in the event that such a volume does already exist, let me know!)

recovery

Yesterday afternoon with a couple of friends I headed down to Tacoma for a few hours at the Madrona Fiber Arts 2010 Winter Retreat. I was, alas, underwhelmed. I didn't take any classes so cannot account for those but the marketplace and teachers' gallery in the evening didn't hold much interest for me. It was lovely though to be out and about, to go out for dinner and to chat and laugh with friends.

And I knit two rows on something long neglected - the faux prussian stole. The last time I worked on this was on the train on the way to Sock Summit (notice a pattern here? I can't afford to wait for knitting conventions to get a few rows done on this!) and I ran out of yarn. I had put another ball into the project bag but yesterday evening found myself without a darning needle with which to make a Russian join.

Luckily I was surrounded by knitters - I think that half of the restaurant could have lent me one. So, join made and two rows knit - small victories.

What always worries me about going back to a project after a significant pause is that I will not be able to recover where I left off, or understand where I was up to. This apprehension actually puts me off picking something up again and so the pause becomes a break becomes a full-blown holiday. Thankfully I had worked out a good method for keeping track with this project - the edging repeats every 12 rows but the lace motif repeats every 96 rows (yes, really) so you need to keep track of both which edging row and which pattern row you are up to.

It was fun to knit this again and I am going to make an effort to keep at it, even if just bit by bit.

handles

Ok, I don't think that these are the handles that I am looking for but they happen to be some handles that I already have (and which have recently reached us across the expanse of the Pacific Ocean along with some other Australian possessions). The receipt is conveniently there alongside in the bag showing that I have been treasuring (read, carefully hanging onto until I think of something wonderful to do with them) these since August 2003 and that I paid ... oh my goodness, how did I ever afford that?































Anyway, I purchased these bag handles at Margo Richards Antiques in the Rocks in Sydney I recall, in the company of my brother who was visiting at the time. The handles above are the more recent pair, two separate handles. I have no idea what wood either pair is made from, or in what era actually - any ideas?

These ones below are older with lovely carved details. The two halves are hinged with that wooden clasp to keep the pair closed. And the little holes for attaching the bag.
































I did attempt early in my crafting career a crocheted bag in some burgundy yarn but it wasn't very successful (and not very good yarn either). I'm glad of this because I now have much better ideas and skills as to what I might create. Another felted jumper bag of some sort maybe - an old-fashioned patchwork sewing bag - yo-yos from recycled fabrics - tweet tweet. Yes, thank you for reminding me, one thing at a time.

japan

Oh I wish (kind of). Just more armchair travelling, well, the Japanese garden in the Arboretum which is a few blocks from where we live. Yes, those conifers in the background of the picture below are a bit of a giveaway.

I have actually been to Japan three times - for a nine-month stint in the year after I finished high school and two trips bookending my first trip to Europe. That first nine-month trip was just long enough to teach me how unutterably unknowable Japan was to a tall, fair foreigner with size 9.5 feet. A dear friend who was there a bit longer than I (and at a different stage of her life, married to a Japanese man) recently said it was only after a year that she started to feel like she could have, I don't think fitted in but become more part of the culture.

And of course it is only more recently that I have become interested in Japanese craft books. Another friend's mother is currently in Japan for three weeks and we have passed on all sorts of department store names and fabric shop details to her. I also recently borrowed a couple of books about zakka (which I take to mean household goods) from the library and it (almost) makes my feet itch a bit.

It is certainly getting colder here in Seattle, so unfortunately the ornamental carp have already gone into hibernation and there is no more fish feeding. We must go back in summer when it is spectacular to see them roiling around in the water in a feeding frenzy.

happy birthday to me ...

... I am (no longer) thirty-three. Nor thirty-four for that matter but thirty-five. Ouch! And it was actually my birthday a week or so ago but the point is, I received a wonderful package in the mail yesterday. My mum was kind enough to give me some birthday money and I used it to buy a book that I have been coveting for about a year. It has only been available to buy in Europe and postage was prohibitive, except as a birthday present.

The book is titled Tausend Blicke - Kinderporträts von Emil Brunner aus dem Bündner Oberland 1943/44, which translates roughly as 'A Thousand Glimpses - children's portraits by Emil Brunner from the Bündner Oberland 1943/44' (Bündner Oberland refers to a region of Switzerland - I think).

I have never been much of a photography fan but when we were in Switzerland last year I saw some images from this book as postcards. I didn't buy them as I tend to only buy postcards of works or places that I have actually seen and I hadn't seen any photo exhibitions. Nevertheless, the images remained with me and I conducted a rather clumsy phone call to the bookshop at the Schweizerischen Landesmuseum in Zurich to try and find out more about the photos or the photographer. And thus I discovered Emil Brunner, a press photographer who in 1943 and 1944 visited Swiss mountain villages and took these inspiring portraits of the children living there.










Photos from Limmat Verlag website
I can't say exactly what it is about these photos that I find so inspiring, or haunting. I just do and am delighted to have this book as my own. Thank you Mum for the wonderful present!

103

That is 103 stories of empty space beneath my feet (and a second and final installment from my Birkenstock wardrobe - I still haven't managed to paint my toenails). In an effort to continue with child-friendly activities last week on Friday we went up the Willis Tower to the Skydeck to have a look at the city from above. This is the sort of touristy thing that I would rarely bother to do but I thought that little miss bear might find it interesting. She was actually pretty nonplussed about the whole experience but I thought it was great! Having children can really teach you things about yourself.

Chicago is a city famous for its architecture and is a wonderful place to look at from above. It was a bit overcast and the horizon between the lake and sky was just a blur and then the grey irregular rhythm of skyscrapers and the voids between them - fantastic. The newest attraction up there at 412 metres (1353 feet) is the Skyledge which is a glass box that basically sticks out from the side of the building. You can stand there on the (I assume very thick and strong) sheet of perspex/glass(?) and look down at the space between you and the street.

Then, as a reward for this motherly concern for my child's travel enjoyment and edification, we went to Goodwill. The only Goodwill in Chicago and oh, the disappointment. It was small (compared to Seattle Goodwill stores), badly organised and the stock was dismal. We bought a couple of books but that was it. Upon returning home I worked out why (or at least why the Seattle Goodwill stores are so good). Look at the City of Seattle flag!