A Trip to Limburg

Hello and thank you so much for your condolences. I really appreciate your warm words of comfort. I’ve been away from here for longer than expected, because apart from dealing with a loss, we also had to deal with Covid for the first time. In medical terms we had a mild case, but still it was no joke. Not the happiest of times, but I’m well on the mend now, back to knitting and ready to pick up the thread of my blog. More about knitting over the coming weeks. Today, I first have something else for you.

Before my life ground to a halt we spent a weekend in Limburg, the southernmost region of the Netherlands, visiting friends and doing some sightseeing along the way. For me it’s like being in a different country and I thought you might enjoy some pictures.

For the last lap of our journey, we left the motorway and stopped off in Elsloo, a village with a very picturesque old centre.

As you can see in the two photos above, it’s quite hilly here (at least by Dutch standards). It’s not just the landscape that is different from where we live, but the architecture, too. Some of the lovely old houses along the cobbled streets are built around a square courtyard – something you don’t see in our part of the country at all.

Steps lead up to the catholic Augustinus church.

And to the left of the steps stands the most spectacular house of the village – the Schippershuis. Skipper and stone trader Jan Conincx had it built in the early 17th century. He must have been an extremely wealthy person. Creative and imaginative, too, judging by the patchwork of stones and bricks on the tall front of his house.

Just imagine living in a house with such a long history. Interesting and lovely, but also rather dark inside, I expect. It has a basement with two tiny red doors. What would you do with a windowless basement like that?

With good lighting and perhaps a trompe-l’oeil window painted on a wall it might make a great crafts room with lots of space for storing yarn (one can but dream). It is close to the river Meuse but will never be flooded, because it is situated far above it. The sign on the wall tells us the street is called Op de berg (On the mountain).

From the top of the ‘mountain’, at the end of the road, we can look out over the river Meuse. It is narrower than I expected. On the other side a village with lots of white houses, wind turbines, a motorway.

We ate our sandwich lunch in the castle grounds (the castle is now a hotel.)…

… and then drove on to the village of Simpelveld, to visit De Schat van Simpelveld (the Simpelveld Treasure), a convent museum with an amazing embroidery collection. Even for someone who isn’t particularly interested in ecclesiastical embroidery (me) or any embroidery (my husband) it was fascinating. The embroidery was extremely fine and beautiful. I didn’t take any pictures but will give a couple of links at the end of this post so that you can see for yourself.

Upon arrival at our friends’ place we talked, talked and talked enjoying each other’s company and a delicious home-cooked dinner, but before that we went for a walk, enjoying the late afternoon sun on trees in their early autumn finery,

passing an old watermill…

… and finding a plant we didn’t know yet – the yellow-flowered teasel (NL: Slanke kaardebol).

The larger wild teasel is also called fuller’s teasel and was used in the wool industry in the past. Maybe this smaller one was, too, who knows?

It’s so good to be back here on my blog, choosing photographs and words to share with you. I’m easing in with some light-hearted travel talk today and hope to be back with some ‘serious’ knitting and other woolly posts next week, the week after next, the week after that, and… Thank you for reading!

Oh, and here are the promised links:

  • Do take a look at this wonderful blog post about the embroidery at the convent in Simpelveld with lots of great photographs. Looking at the close-up photos you’ll understand why the nuns’ embroidery is called needle painting.
  • The museum website De Schat van Simpelveld can be found here.

Suddenly

Hello! Just popping in here with a brief message today. A close family member of ours passed away suddenly last week. Sad and shaken, I feel unable to come up with anything inspiring to write about at the moment.  On the one hand I don’t want to bother you with my personal affairs, but on the other I don’t want to stay away here for weeks on end leaving you wondering. Don’t worry, I’m basically all right and just need some time.

I missed the Dutch Knitting & Crochet Days this year. For a lovely impression do head over to my friend Froukje’s blog. She also writes about the embroidery-on-knitting workshop she took while she was there.

I hope all is well with you and hope to be back here soon with some woolly inspiration. Take care! xxx

Azalea Scarf

Hello! Do you ever order yarn online? If so, how do you choose? Have you had any disappointments? I find it tricky and prefer to purchase my yarns at brick-and-mortar shops – a far nicer experience anyway. But what if you don’t have any shops nearby or they don’t have what you’re looking for? What if you’ve read about, say, a gorgeous lace-weight tweed yarn (a rarity) that would be perfect for the scarf you want to knit? How do you find out which shade would be right for you? Screen images can be so deceptive.

I was thinking of pink. The yarn I had in mind had only one shade of pink, called Azalea, that looked very different on different websites. Looking at pictures of azalea gardens online was lovely, but didn’t really help – so many shades of pink azaleas!

Nezu Shrine Azalea Garden in Tokyo | Photo by Susann Schuster via Unsplash

In the end I took the risk and – phew – it was a kind of pink I liked. (I later found out that I could have returned the yarn if I hadn’t been happy with it.) The pink looks different in many of my own photos, too. This one comes closest to the real colour (at least on my screen):

It is almost like the pink of the flowers on the straggly little azalea bush in our garden, but slightly warmer (plus it has turquoise, yellow and orange tweed flecks).

In my experience the photos on yarn manufacturers’ websites are often the most reliable.

The scarf-in-progress accompanied me everywhere I went over the past five months or so and what a lovely, relaxing project it was. This is what it looks like finished (only the pink isn’t quite right):

It’s airy, floaty and very, very soft.

Project details:
Pattern: Polka Dot Scarf
Yarn: 6 x 25 g/175 m/191 yds Ito ‘Karei’, shade Azalea
Finished size: 56 cm/22” wide x 2.05 m/80¾”  long
Needles: 3.75 mm/US 5 (and 4.5 mm/US 7 for bind-off)

I thought I’d briefly discuss several special techniques used for this scarf below. I realize not everyone will find the finer details of finishing as fascinating as I do. Or maybe these are things you already know as an experienced knitter. I quite understand that you may not feel like reading this to the end. So, before I move on to the techniques, I’m wishing you a lovely weekend, and hope to see you again next week!

Provisional cast-on with I-cord bind-off

The Polka Dot Scarf starts with a needle-and-hook provisional cast-on. I have described this technique in detail here. When the scarf is finished, it is bound off with a narrow I-cord (described clearly in the pattern). Then the provisional cast-on is unravelled and the stitches are put back on the needle:

This end of the scarf is also bound off with an I-cord. This isn’t absolutely necessary. It would be totally okay to use an ordinary cast-on and bind-off. But it just looks so much nicer to have both ends of the scarf exactly the same with a lovely little I-cord. Below the scarf is folded over so that you can see both ends with their I-cords:

Sewn yarn join

To start in a new skein, I’ve sewn the ends of the ‘old’ and the ‘new’ skein together like this. When you have about an arm’s length of the old yarn left, thread the tail through a darning needle. Now ‘sew’ the tail up and down back through the same yarn end for about 10 cm/4”:

Pull the needle and thread through, leaving a loop:

Now thread the beginning of the new yarn through the needle. Pass it through the loop of the old yarn and ‘sew’ the tail through the new yarn thread – you now have this:

Finally, carefully pull on both ends so that the loops almost disappear, smooth out the yarn and cut off the extra yarn ends. Tadaa! Can you see the join? It’ll be as good as invisible in the knitted fabric.

Blocking

In my humble opinion, blocking is absolutely essential for lace scarves. It makes all the difference between frumpy and floaty. You’ll need: no-rinse wool wash, blocking wires and (rustproof) T-pins. Blocking mats are nice, too, but you can also block on a (spare) bed.

Soak your scarf/shawl in the wool wash for about 20 minutes. Remove from water and squeeze out most moisture. Roll in a towel and squeeze to remove more moisture. (I have a separate spin dryer, put my scarf in a lingerie bag and spun it very briefly instead of using a towel.) Next, thread the blocking wires through your knitting along the edges, as if you are sewing a running stitch.

Stretch out your scarf and pin in place with T-pins.

Leave to dry (lace scarves will usually be dry within 12 hours), unpin and remove blocking wires. Blocking is soooo worth the effort!

Before blocking
After blocking

I hope this all makes sense and is useful. If you ever have any questions, do let me know!

Unsettled

Hello! After many weeks of warm summer days, the weather is unsettled now and I love it! Wind, fresh air, alternately rain and sunshine, and wild skies.

It’s not just the weather that’s unsettled, though, but me, too. I think it has something to do with my birthday last Monday. I celebrated it during the weekend with my nearest and dearest. There were gifts, phone calls, letters, cards and other messages, and a lovely walk on the day itself. The walk partly followed an old, old road hollowed out by people, cattle and carts passing along it during many centuries.

I feel truly grateful and blessed. And yet…

I am 62 now. My mum died at 66. Although there is no reason whatsoever to assume that I will not live longer, there is an inner voice that says, ‘You’d better get a move on!’ Oh, okay, but… with what and how? I think I need to have a chat with this voice someday soon to get clarity.

In one area of my life I do know exactly how to get a move on. At present, I have 6 projects on the go that are almost finished: a child’s pullover, a cardigan, a scarf, a shawl, a big spinning project and a small felt project.

Usually, I’m fine with working on multiple projects simultaneously and taking a long time over them, but now I feel the urge to finish them. More about them (in as far as they are interesting enough) over the coming weeks, I hope.

For now, there is one more thing I’d like to share with you. I was given the sweetest little box as a birthday present. It contains 36 ‘Trust Cards’ with illustrations and affirmations by Dutch artist Esther Bennink.

Technology isn’t advanced enough yet to let you pick one for yourself, so let me pick one for you – this is the picture on the front:

On the back it says:

I choose
to enjoy
the little things

I wish you a week with many little things to enjoy. To start with, here is one from our garden.

Seventh Heaven – Smaller Version

Hello! Today, we’re visiting De Wieden again, one half of the Wieden-Weerribben National Park. The last time I took you here was on a cold and foggy December day – the day of the Seventh Heaven photo shoot (see this blog post). Remember that big slip-stitch-and-garter ridges scarf made with sock yarn remnants?

This time it’s an agreeable 20˚C (68˚F), sunny with some clouds and quite a bit of wind. And this time we’re cycling through De Wieden instead of walking, bringing two Seventh Heaven scarves along for another photo shoot – the original big one and a new, smaller version.

Here they are side by side. The smaller version is about half the width of the original scarf and slightly shorter (approx. 21.5 cm (8½”) wide x 1.82 m (71½”) long).

Below, I am wearing the smaller Seventh Heaven scarf tied in a pretzel knot:

It is long enough to be wrapped twice around the neck with the ends tucked in and worn as a kind of cowl:

Zooming in for a closer look at the stripe pattern:

I’m being photographed on a bicycle bridge looking out over the landscape. To get an even better view, let’s leave our bicycles behind for a while and walk through this gate next to the bridge:

The footpath behind it leads to a bird watching tower:

And this is what we can see from up high – water, strips of boggy land, straight lines. Clearly a man-made landscape, witness to the peat extraction of the past:

The wet peat from the ponds was dried on small strips of land. In some places, overintensive peat cutting resulted in ever smaller strips of land that were washed away by wind and waves, forming lakes (wieden). In other places, the remaining labyrinth of waterways is great for exploring in a canoe or other small boat.

De Wieden is an important habitat for many bog-loving plants and wildlife. Unfortunately I haven’t been able to photograph any of the rarer species, like an otter or a dark bluet (a damselfly), so this not-so-rare hawker dragonfly will have to do for now.

Well, back to the scarf. For the smaller version I used two balls of Schoppel-Wolle Zauberball Crazy, (100 g/420 m; 75% wool, 25% biodegradable nylon), in colourways Stone Washed and Kleiner Fuchs (Small Tortoiseshell).

The contrast between the two colourways is stronger in some places than in others, but the quiet shades of blue of the one always provide a great backdrop to the cheerful colours of the other. The alternating colours look fun in the I-cord edges, too.

I have updated the Seventh Heaven scarf pattern to include an addendum with instructions for this smaller version.

Those of you who have already purchased the pattern do not need to do so again. You will have received an e-mail by now and can download an updated version. As before, the proceeds of the pattern sales will go to Dutch nature conservation organisation Natuurmonumenten, for creating the circumstances that will hopefully lure the almost extinct large copper butterfly back to De Wieden.

Thank you for your support. And if you are going to knit a Seventh Heaven scarf, big or small, I wish you happy knitting!

August Days

Hello! It’s good to see you! August is almost at an end and I hope it’s been a good month for you. I wanted it to be a slow, quiet month, but how to slow down in your everyday environment when life just sort of goes on? What I basically did differently from the rest of the year was that I didn’t go anywhere in the evenings (easy when everyone is away), stayed at or close to home most of the time, lowered the bar (quite a bit) and spent as little time as possible online (not so easy). This gave me the breathing space I craved.

There is very little to show you of my uneventful days. One of the simple things I enjoyed was picking a bunch of sweet peas every other day.

There were several days that stood out between all the quiet ones, like the days we looked after our grandson, and the day a friend’s 12-year-old daughter came to learn how to bake sourdough bread and pizza.

And then there was the day we visited our niece who is a student in Nijmegen, a big city on the river Waal.

Well, Nijmegen fits about five times into Amsterdam, but it’s a big city to me. Large parts of the inner city were bombed in 1944, so most of the buildings are relatively new.

But there are some lovely old parts left, too.

We had lunch at a Swedish lunchroom, visited a fabulous bookshop, did some more shopping…

… and almost bumped into this fascinating dress (or is it a separate crocheted top and knit skirt?):

Oh, a yarn shop! I didn’t know there was one here. I took a quick look round and can tell you that it’s worth a visit if you’re ever in Nijmegen. The right kind of tools and notions, plus the most exquisite wool, cotton, hand-dyed, silk, paper, yak and alpaca yarns.

I have been knitting, but not nearly as much as I thought I would. On the whole, August weather is not really knitting weather. I did finish my Land Yndlingskofte, though. That is, I finished the knitting. Now I need to pluck up the courage to cut the steek.

I also knit a pair of men’s socks size huge. The brief was: as simple as possible in a dark colour. Boring? Not at all – to me it’s been meditative and very enjoyable.

For a sweater for our grandson I knit some swatches. When I chose the yarn, I thought I’d simply improvise something, but it’s not all that simple. There are so many decisions to make. Top-down or bottom-up? Knit flat or in the round? What stitch pattern(s)? How to distribute the two colours? Neckline? Set-in sleeves, raglan, yoke? Etc. etc. etc.

Summer is my least favourite season and I’m longing for cooler days with softer light. It’s still warm while I’m writing this, but the first signs of autumn are here.

After this slow month of August, I feel energized and am full of plans for things to do, make, read and write about. This is what I hope to share with you next week:

How has August been for you? Did you go anywhere? Or did you stay at home? Has it been very hot where you live? Or perhaps you live in the southern hemisphere and it’s been wet and chilly? Have you been knitting, sewing or otherwise making things? I’d love to hear from you and hope to see you again next week!

Slow August – Sewing Lavender Sachets

Hello! I hope you’re well and enjoying this month of August. Last week, some days were too hot and muggy here for knitting and I sewed some lavender sachets instead. They are more like little cushions in three different sizes tied together with ribbon. If you’d like to make something similar, here is what you’ll need and how to make them.

For a set of three sachets you’ll need:

  • Small pieces of cotton (quilting) fabric
  • 85 cm (33½”) ribbon, 6 mm – 1 cm (¼ – ½”) wide
  • Approx. 35 g dried lavender
  • Sewing machine (or you could hand sew them)
  • Scissors
  • Teaspoon
  • Sewing thread in colours of fabrics
  • Sewing needle
  • Pins

Step-by-step instructions:

1) Cut 6 fabric squares, 2 each measuring 13 x 13 cm, 11 x 11 cm and 9 x 9 cm (5 x 5”, 4¼ x 4¼” and 3½ x 3½”).

2) Sew with right sides together, leaving a 4 – 5 cm (1½ – 2”) turning-and-filling gap.

3) Trim corners.

4) Turn outside out and carefully push out corners.

5) Fill with lavender. (Or for someone who doesn’t like lavender, use rose petals. You’ll only need 25 g, as rose petals are more voluminous. Lavender is moth-repellent, rose petals are not.)

6) Close gap using invisible stitches, or (as I did) a visible whip stitch, so that the sachets can easily be opened and refilled later.

7) Place on top of each other and tie together with ribbon. And voilà!

Repeat steps 1 – 7 until you have enough sachets to keep the moths away from your woolly sweaters and shawls, and to scent your underwear and bed linen. And then make some more to give away to your daughter, grandchild, (grand)mother, sister, friend, colleague, neighbour, cousin, knitting-group host, another friend…

Slow August – Heather Cycling Tour

Hello! The heather is in bloom. It is cloudy, but with no rain forecast and just a light breeze it’s an ideal day for a cycling tour. Would you like to come along?

Ah, I see you’ve brought your own lunch, thermos and snacks. Perfect! I have a bicycle exactly the right size for you so hop on! I hope you don’t mind that I’m not very talkative today.

Lunchtime!

Rested? Let’s get back on our bikes for the second half.

Back home!

Wel, it isn’t my home or yours, but it’s somebody’s home. Wouldn’t you love to be able to time-travel back to 1813 and spend a day here when the house was new?

We covered 35 kilometres today. I hope you enjoyed the ride and hope to see you again soon!

Slow August – Yarn

Hello! Today it’s all about yarn – a subject that I’m fairly sure will speak to all of you knitters out there.

“Yarn is essential to us as paint is to the artist, flour to the baker, soil to the gardener. We can improvise on most of the tools, tying string into a stitch marker, sanding down a bamboo chopstick in a pinch. But without yarn, our hands are idle.”
– Clara Parkes in A Stash of One’s Own: Knitters on Loving, Living with, and Letting Go of Yarn (New York: Abrams, 2017, p.7)

I am slowly sifting through my yarns, petting and organizing them. Here are some of them. Organic everyday yarn on my needles…

Traditional Norwegian yarn with a plan…

Yarn dyed by a dyer living nearby, purchased recently without a plan (something I rarely do anymore)…

Merino singles yarn in four shades of blue for which a plan is beginning to form – a gift from one of my best friends dyed by herself…

Ordinary sock yarn for two pairs of everyday socks for my beloved everyday companion…

Luxurious cashmere yarn, very affordable if you buy mill ends (leftovers), that has lived under our roof for over a decade and I hope to knit up into a luscious lace shawl someday…

Golden brown sock yarn made with a very humble fibre…

Yarn worth its weight in gold if you count the hours it’s taken me to make it – mohair from a local goat breeder that I washed, combed and carded, blended on my drum carder together with some merino and silk someone didn’t want anymore, and then spun and plied. To dye or not to dye, that is the question…

I do have (considerably) more yarn than this, but maybe not quite as much as Kay Gardiner, who calls herself a minimalist and writes about her yarn: “Yarn to the rafters. Yarn in my closet. Yarn in everyone else’s closet. Yarn in the enamel-over-steel covered roasting pan that only gets used at Thanksgiving and Christmas. Shopping bags of yarn that I have to step over every night to draw the blinds in my bedroom.”
– Kay Gardiner, “The Minimalist Speaks”, p. 57 in the same book as above.

The essays in A Stash of one’s Own are fun and often thought-provoking. Here is one last quote: “… I’ve learned that not all collections are created equal. There are acceptable things to collect and those that are less so. […] It’s been my experience that a bountiful yarn stash is perceived as a distinct indication you are slightly nutty and lack restraint.” Anna Maltz, “Morning Yarn / Portable Stories”, p. 81.

Nutty or not, I treasure my yarn collection. To me, it is beautiful, comforting and inspiring in and of itself.

Slow August – Welly Path

Hello! Come and walk the Welly Path with me today. For most of the year wellies are essential, but in high summer other sturdy shoes are fine, too. As I promised last week, I’ll keep quiet so that you can hear the wind whispering in the reeds, the reed warblers warbling and the insects humming. Be prepared to ferry yourself across several waterways and enjoy the walk!

The Welly Path starts and ends at this visitor centre: