Choosing Colours for Stranded Knitting Using the Colour Wheel

by

Hello! As I told you last week, I’m going to knit Helma, a stranded colourwork cardigan designed by Kristin Wiola Ødegård (picture above). I think it’s gorgeous – a beautiful all-over pattern on body and sleeves, a stunning yoke and an uplifting and harmonious choice of colours. The only thing is, the colours are not ‘me’. That’s not usually a problem; I substitute colours all the time. Only this time the pattern uses 9 different colours, and that’s a lot trickier than substituting 2 or 3.

Usually, I choose colours instinctively. For me, the easy way out in this case would be taking a neutral (like dark navy or charcoal, combined with off-white or light grey) as the main colour and throw lots of pinks and purples at it. In colour-wheel terms pinks and purples are analogous colours, i.e. from colour groups next to each other on the wheel.

That would work, but the effect would be totally different from the original. How could I stay closer to the sample using colours I like? To find the answer, I dusted off my rarely used colour wheel in order to analyse the designer’s colour palette. The main colour is easy to recognize – it belongs in the red-orange group on the wheel.

From the same group, there is also a dark reddish brown and a very light kind of beige. But what about the rest? There seems to be some greenish blue, some purple, a yellowish olive. What kind of colour scheme is that?

Looking at the centre of the colour wheel (picture below), colour palettes can be for instance analogous (the pinks and purples above). Complementary, combining colours from two groups opposite each other on the wheel like, say, red and green, or blue and orange. Or triadic, with colours from three different colour groups evenly distributed over the wheel (indicated by the corners of the grey triangle).

Studying Helma’s colours for a while, I discovered that the designer chose a tetradic colour palette, using colours from four different colour groups – the ones the corners of the red square in the picture below point at (I’ve added blue arrows from the corners outward to the colour-group names):

The original Helma has 3 red-oranges, 3 violets, 2 blue-greens, and one yellow. The colours are vivid, and there are 2 dark ones, 2 light ones and 5 of a medium value. All in all quite a complicated colour palette. Would I be able to recreate it in colours I like? I was thinking of using Rauma’s ‘Finull’ yarn and had the shade cards at home.

The best approach seemed to me to start with the main colour. Because the Finull yarn was just short pieces glued to the cards, I used embroidery floss bobbins in similar colours to get an idea of the effect. What if I chose blue as the main colour and followed the original Helma’s principles? I’d get something like this:

3 blues, 3 yellow-greens, 2 oranges and 1 red-violet; 2 dark, 2 light, 5 medium. Quite nice actually, but do I want 2 oranges in my cardigan? Not really.

How about starting with blue-green, another of my favourite colours? Following the same principles, this would be my colour palette:

3 blue-greens, 3 yellows, 2 red-oranges, 1 violet. A really interesting colour palette, but do I want a cardigan in it? Nope. And then I asked myself the (for me) hardest question anyone can ask me: WHAT DO YOU WANT?

The answer I arrived at was: What I would really like for my cardigan is a soft look, with a blue-green as the main colour, a different blue-green (or white?) as the main contrast colour, and a yoke with pinks, blue-greens and white (+ a little orange-yellow?) The colour palette I came up with turned out to be triadic (using 3 different colour groups), and I made a list of Finull colours that would qualify. Only… the Finull colours were not really soft, but quite bright. So I made another list next to it with similar colours in a different yarn – Filcolana’s ‘Pernilla’.

At the yarn shop, I decided to go for Pernilla, a slightly heathered yarn in softer shades. Seeing the yarns in real life, I partly adhered to my list and also swapped a few colours for different ones. This is my final colour palette:

Well, that was an interesting exercise. Without the colour wheel, I would never ever have chosen the yellow and the brown, but I am really, really happy with them. Used in small quantities in the yoke, I think they will make the overall effect far more interesting and lively than if I’d just picked my usual ‘safe’ colours. As soon as the rest of my main colour arrives (there weren’t enough skeins in stock), I’ll start swatching and knitting. Can’t wait!

If you’ve never used a colour wheel and would like to give it a try – colour wheels are available from artist’s supply shops, and also from most bookshops nowadays. I even saw some at our nearest small book/stationery/giftshop-cum-post office, next to the adult colouring books. I hope this is helpful and all makes sense. If I haven’t explained things clearly or you have any other questions, please don’t hesitate to leave a comment and I’ll try to answer as best as I can.

Back to Knitting

by

Hello, it’s good to ‘see’ you again and I hope all is well with you. Although it’s still warm and summery here, there are signs aplenty that autumn is around the corner. In our garden, the apples are almost ripe.

The grapes, too, and some of their leaves are already turning colour.

I feel like I’ve been rather lazy over the past month-and-a-half or so, but someone else called it being ‘creatively dormant’ – a far kinder and more helpful way of putting it.

So, apart from knitting several pairs of socks and making a felt butterfly, what did this ‘creative dormancy’ look like? I have not been sleeping the time away (I wish!), but have been walking or cycling almost every day. Usually close to home, but sometimes a little further afield, and one day outside the Wadden Sea dyke. It looks very tranquil in the photo below, but actually there was quite a strong wind.

I also visited a couple of lovely markets, one of them in a botanical garden.

There were some delicious farmhouse cheeses and other tasty foods.

And yarns, too, like these bright hand dyed ones…

… and this fine tweed, with inspiration for some stranded colourwork.

Lazing about/being creatively dormant for a while didn’t always feel comfortable, but I think it was just what I needed, because now I feel inspired and energized again, full of new plans for things to knit, make and write about.

At the top of this post you can see the start of a gift project that I can’t tell you about until it has been gifted because the giftee may be reading this. What I can tell you about is my plan for a Norwegian cardigan. During our May holiday in Germany, I came across a book by Norwegian knitting designer Kristin Wiola Ødegård.

The German title is Traumhafte Strickjacken aus Norwegen, and the original is Ett år med kofter. I took a look at the designer’s website, and saw that there is an E-book version available in English: One Year with Wiola Cardigans. Wiola’s website is really worth checking out – very inspiring. It’s not just the knitting itself that is beautiful, but also the added embroidery and other embellishments.

I bought two copies of the book – one for myself and one for a friend, and we’re both going to knit something from it. My friend is going to make Rakel in a cardigan version (Ravelry link).

And I’ve chosen Helma (Ravelry link).

Together, my friend and I drove up to Seldensa last Friday, the yarn shop I wrote about here and here. Choosing wasn’t easy, because how do you choose from all these colours????

Or from these???

It took a while (fortunately shopkeeper Nynke is very patient and even plied us with tea), but we both succeeded in choosing yarns and colours for our projects we’re happy with. I’ve given choosing colours for stranded knitting a lot of thought lately, and hope to tell you a bit about that next week. Hope to see you again then!

Coffee Bean Socks and Ice Cream

by

Do you know the saying ‘The shoemaker’s children go barefoot’? I’m afraid it applies to me in the variation ‘the sock knitter’s (grand)children go barefoot’. My daughter’s socks are all completely worn out and I believe I’ve never even knit a single pair of socks for my grandsons. Shame on me! As a start to remedying that, I’ve knit a pair of ‘coffee bean’ socks for my daughter.

Yarn: Lana Grossa ‘Meilenweit Vintage Socks’, shade 1008 (100 g/400 m/437 yds; 75% merino/25% polyamide).
On the leg, I used the ‘coffee bean’ stitch pattern:

Most of you will probably know it. For those of you who do not, it is a nice and stretchy variation on k2/p2 ribbing that is knit as follows:

Coffee Bean Stitch Pattern
(knit in the round on a number of stitches divisible by 4)
Rnd 1: (k2, p2) repeat to end of rnd.
Rnd 2: (k1, yo, k1, p2) repeat to end of rnd.
Rnd 3: (k3, p2) repeat to end of rnd.
Rnd 4: (sl1, k2, psso2, p2) repeat to end of rnd.

Abbreviations: k=knit; p=purl; psso2=pass slipped st over 2 knit sts; rnd=round; sl1=slip 1 st purlwise; st(s)=stitch(es); yo=yarn over.

On the top of the foot, I let the coffee beans transition into k2/p2 rib:

The coffee bean socks made me think of the coffee pot sculpture in the Frisian town of Joure. I photographed it on the way to a yarn shop (where else?) on a beautiful sunny winter’s day.

The sculpture was made by Klaas Gubbels, an artist working in many different media who has spent his entire career focusing on a very limited number of subjects: tables, chairs and… coffee pots.

Talking about coffee beans and coffee pots, I am not a coffee drinker at all. My husband is, though, and he has kindly given me permission to publish his coffee ice cream recipe here.

Mocha coffee ice cream

Ingredients:

250 g    Whole milk
150 g    Whipping cream (30%)
30 g      Skimmed milk powder
100 g    Caster sugar
60 g      Strong coffee, cooled
1 g        Guar gum (available online from e.g. baker’s ingredients shops)

Method:

  • Mix all wet ingredients.
  • Mix all dry ingredients and stir into wet ingredients.
  • Leave in fridge for approx. 8 hours.
  • Pour into bowl of ice cream machine and churn on ‘gelato’ setting for approx. 40 minutes.
  • For an extra special treat, serve the ice cream with some chilled strong coffee with a dash of whisky poured over.

Enjoy!

Silver-Studded Blue

by

Hello! I hope you’re doing okay and have had a good week so far. It’s heather season here, and as it’s been too hot to even think about knitting this week, I thought I’d just chat a bit about a felt butterfly I’ve made and take you along for a stroll to enjoy the purple gorgeousness.

In some places the heather carpets the entire ground, in other places it grows in tussocks.

Most of the heather here is common heather, or ling, but there is some erica as well.

Even though it’s still morning, the  highland cattle that have been hired to keep the heather free from encroaching trees and purple moor grass have retreated to a shady spot.

The sheep with the same job description can stand the heat better but they, too, prefer to laze about in the shade today.

The bees love the heat, though, and the entire heath is abuzz with them. The butterflies fluttering about are mainly cabbage whites. It would be great to see a silver-studded blue, known as heideblauwtje (heather blue) in Dutch. As it’s a red list species chances are slim, but hold on, what’s that blue speck?

Yes, it really is a silver-studded blue,

only it’s made of felt, with embroidery and beads.

Designer Marianne of Lindelicht has captured its essence really well. My stitches are not as neat as those on the shop sample, and I had to replace the tiny blue beads with slightly larger ones because I dropped the original ones in the garden and was unable to retrieve them all, but still my butterfly is also clearly recognizable.

This is the fourth of her butterflies I’ve made so far – lovely little summer projects.

Writing this reminds me that I also have several hanks of Marianne’s beautiful hand-dyed yarn in my stash. Maybe it’s time to knit some of those up into a shawl or scarf. But first I’ll finish the socks and the cardigan that are still on my needles. Perhaps there’ll be something to tell you about one of those next week. Hope to see you again then!

Harmless Amusements

by

‘Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world.’ With this quote from Voltaire my current library book starts. It’s Jenny Colgan’s The Little Shop of Happy Ever After. A cringe-invoking title if ever there was one, but I could do with some light reading. And it’s about books. In a nutshell, librarian Nina loses her job, buys a van, moves to Scotland and starts a mobile bookshop.

I haven’t finished it yet, but I can already tell you that it’s totally unrealistic and fluffy, and also warm and funny. Yes, let us read! But I’d rather substitute something else for the dancing. I can think of lots of other amusements that meet Voltaire’s criterion:

☑ Walking and cycling
This is one of my favourite stretches of bicycle track, part of one of my short weekday close-to-home cycle routes:

It was here we took the photos of my Gazelle Mitts. I’m looking forward to the time I’ll be needing mitts and mittens again.

☑ Making felt butterflies
With blanket stitch two layers of felt are sewn together – short stitches, longer stitches and some beads along the edges.

☑ Knitting
I’ve just finished a pair of socks from Meilenweit ‘Cosima’ (100g/420 m/560 yds; 75% Merino extra fine, 25% Polyamide). The yarn is very soft to the touch, yet so strong that it can’t be broken by hand. I wonder why one sock yarn is far stronger than another with exactly the same wool and synthetics percentages. Trying to get two matching socks and to make the cuffs and heels coincide with the colour changes in the yarn was a fun game.

I’ve come to call these my Dutch landscape socks, because they have a typical Dutch heel and, well…

☑ Photography
With my small and simple camera, I wouldn’t call myself a photographer. But what I love about taking pictures is how it opens my eyes to things and creatures I would otherwise never have noticed. Just imagine wearing a pair of feelers your own length once again on your head all day every day.

☑ Spinning
My own spinning hasn’t progressed much since last week, but I met a wonderful spinner at a market on Wednesday. She doesn’t have a website to link to – just call me Reny, she said.

At the back of her stall there was a washing line with hanks of wool in beautiful colours.

None of them for sale – all hand spun and plant dyed they were priceless. Instead of price tags, they had tags with recipes. This one was for the second skein on the left (the green one): mordanted with alum, first dyed with onion skins, then overdyed with indigo.

What she did sell were knitted birds and small sheep from unspun wool, as well as these peg loom woven sitting mats. They look wonderfully soft and warm.

I have the feeling that Reny wasn’t really there to sell things, though, but rather to share her passion for her woolly ‘amusements’.

Watching the news and reading the paper, I often feel sad and powerless. What can we do? Engaging in ‘amusements that will never do any harm to the world’ at least will not make things worse. That’s something. And they may just add some warmth and beauty to the world as well. I could think of many more such amusements, but am signing off for now. Hope to share some pictures of a finished butterfly and blooming heather next week. Bye!

Sky Blue-Pink

by

Hello, and thank you so much for last week’s thoughtful comments. Taking your advice on board, I’m telling myself that it’s okay to be less productive for a while. Focusing on small and simple knitting projects for the time being seems like the best thing to do. Socks, and perhaps a small scarf or a pair of mittens – thank you for your ideas. And I hope to finally get round to some other crafts projects that have been patiently waiting.

In 2023 I bought some spinning fibre at the wool festival in Joure, from the Q-Art stand that was filled with hand-dyed wool-and-silk in many colours:

Is there something there to your taste? Which would you choose? I chose two balls, together a little under 300 grams – these:

One a dusty pink, and the other the colour of the sky on some mornings and evenings: sky-blue pink.

I love these festivals so much, not just because of the lovely materials on offer but also because of the people visiting them, some of them imaginatively dressed. Take this person, all in white with a lace parasol, an antique-looking skirt, and ankle socks with lace. Even the text on the bag is carefully chosen: Once upon a time…

Well, back to spinning. I started with the sky blue-pink fibre, in this case pre-drafting it. I tear off about 30 centimetres (13 inches).

Then carefully pull on it with both hands.

Pulling the fibre out more and more, bit by bit, moving my hands back and forth along its length while taking care not to pull it apart. Until it is about 4 to 5 times the original length.

This blends the colours a little more. And most of all it loosens the fibres, making for easier spinning. I spin it, then tear off another piece and repeat the pre-drafting process, spin that, etc.

(I also spin with both hands, but do not always have an extra pair of hands handy for taking pictures.) After spinning all of the fibre, I’m going to ply it into a 2-ply yarn. I’m aiming for a sport-weight yarn, but always find the final weight hard to predict.

Do you spin, too? If not, why not give it a try? Once you’ve got the hang of it, it’s such a relaxing thing to do. Wool festivals and crafts fairs are ideal for trying out whether it’s something you might enjoy, without immediately investing in all kinds of materials and equipment. There are always people there who are happy to let you take place behind their spinning wheel and tell you what to do.

Well, that’s all for today. I hope there is something else to share here next week and hope to see you then!

Sidetracked

by

Hello there! Last Sunday morning we went for a walk in a small out-of-the-way nature reserve. In fact, it’s such an out-of-the-way place that we’ve only ever met two other people there, which is very unusual in this overpopulated little country. It’s an open patch of heathland, with dry and sandy soil, various kinds of heather, grasses and some trees. With thunderstorms forecast for the afternoon and evening, the atmosphere was oppressive.

I was feeling a bit meh. Actually more than just a bit meh – tired and uninspired. I was struggling with the last details on the cardigan for our daughter. The ribbings along the pocket tops, which I would otherwise just have got on with, seemed an insurmountable obstacle.

And there was literally nothing else on my needles. I did have some new knitting projects lined up, but didn’t feel excited about any of them. In short, I’d lost my knitting mojo and also felt like I had nothing left to say. While in the distance sheep were grazing and dozing, and a highland cow was playing hide-and-seek, I was ruminating.

Maybe it was the summer weather, never conducive to knitting. Or maybe it was only to be expected after all the knitting and sewing of the past few months, no matter how much I’ve loved it. One of the things I made that I haven’t shared here yet is this little cardi. I think it’s very sweet, but the pattern could have been a little more detailed.

Walking there, I was thinking, ‘Maybe I should abandon all attempts at making things for a while and take a break from blogging for the rest of July and August.’

And then my husband veered off from the main path to follow a side track, I followed him, and… oh, look!

Thyme!

This is a rare kind of thyme called kleine tijm (small thyme) in Dutch (Thymus serpyllum; Breckland thyme or creeping thyme in English). It’s tiny (about 3 cm/1¼” tall), fragrant and covered in pink flowers at this time of year. So beautiful!

Looking closely, I saw some bees on it with very hairy legs.

The Plant Atlas of the Botanical Society of Britain & Ireland says about this thyme that it grows, ‘…especially in areas disturbed by rabbits or sheep.’ Exactly.

Within seconds the thyme shakes me out of my slump and I begin to notice other small and beautiful things. Like lovely little tufts of lacy lichens.

And small blue butterflies fluttering around the heather. ‘How about making one of those?’ a voice inside of me whispers.

Since our walk, I’ve been hearing more whisperings. It isn’t always clear what they’re telling me, but I feel quite sure I need to listen to them. One of them was very specific, though, and made me cast on a pair of simple socks in a yarn that looks like a water colour painting of a Dutch landscape.

Two takeaways from this walk:

  1. It’s okay to allow yourself to be sidetracked from time to time – it may lead to rabbit or sheep poo, but also to beautiful discoveries.
  2. Small things can bring great happiness.

I can’t say that my knitting mojo has miraculously returned, but I’m feeling more positive. I’d miss chatting with you here on my blog too much, so won’t be taking that break. Only, until my knitting mojo decides to put in an appearance I expect to be writing about side tracks with very little idea of where they’ll be taking us. I hope you don’t mind, hope you’re doing well and hope to see you again next week!

Mûtske

by

Hello! Good news from me today! Last weekend our second grandson was born. I am so very relieved, grateful and happy to be able to tell you that mum and baby are doing well.

It is our tradition to give newborns and their families a basket filled with gifts for the first 10 days.

This time, I knit a matching set consisting of a pair of leggings, an asymmetrical cardigan and a hat for gift #1.

To celebrate, I have a wee gift for you, too – the pattern for the hat. Maybe I’ll get round to writing up the patterns for the rest of the set someday as well, but for now it’s just the hat. I’ve named it Mûtske.

Mûtske is the diminutive of the Frisian word mûts, meaning hat. So a mûtske is a small hat – in this case a newborn size one. The ‘û’ is pronounced more or less like the ‘oo’ in good.

The yarn I used is ‘Merci’ from Filcolana – a nice and soft, machine washable wool-and-cotton blend. I purchased the yarn at the yarn shop in my previous post but I believe it’s widely available. And of course it can easily be substituted by a similar fingering-weight yarn.

As a nod to the leggings, the hat has a narrow edge in a contrasting colour.

Mûtske is knit in the round from the brim up, either using double-pointed needles or a circular needle and the magic-loop method. The body of the hat has a simple yet decorative stitch pattern, and the decreases on the crown make lovely swirling rays:

Mûtske is a quick little gift that will fit the average newborn baby head.

The free pattern for Mûtske can be found here on Ravelry.

Happy knitting!

A Yarn Shop on a Terp

by

On hot summer days, it’s always a few degrees cooler on the coast and there is often a refreshing sea breeze as well. To escape the heat, we sometimes drive northwards to the coast nearest to us, in Friesland. I thought you might like to join us on one of these trips, especially because it involves yarn.

It is not a coast with sandy beaches and breakers, but a coastline surrounded by dykes with the sea or mud flats right behind them, depending on the tides.

Before the dykes, people built terpen (dwelling mounds) to stay safe when the land was flooded during storms and high tides. We used to live in a village on a terp until we moved to our present home, but it is not that village I am taking you to today. Our destination is the tiny village of Eastrum, with about 190 inhabitants – and a yarn shop. The shop, called Seldensa, is housed in the former village café.

My husband drops me off and drives a few miles on to a good bird-watching spot, so that I can browse around Seldensa at leisure. Owner Nynke is a very friendly person, who gives advice if you need it and doesn’t bother you if you just want to look around, which is just how I like it. Apart from many yarn-filled shelves, she also has plenty of samples to provide inspiration.

Let’s zoom in on the sideways-knit top in the centre:

It is Floatside, designed by Wool & Pine, knit in Kremke’s ‘Morning Salutation’ (a lyocell/cotton blend). So lovely and summery.

In the back of the shop, there is a totally un-summery but equally lovely sample:

This is the Agnes Kofta, designed by Kristin Wiola Odegard. It is knit in the nice and woolly Norwegian ‘Finull’ yarn from Rauma that comes in such a huge range of colours:

Another of my favourite yarn brands here is Filcolana. I love their ‘Merci’ and ‘Anina’ yarns for baby’s and children’s knits. I didn’t take any pictures of those, but will tell you more about something I knit with Merci soon. I did take a photo of some of the gorgeous Holst Garn colours, though:

I can’t tell you what pattern or yarn was used for the Norwegian children’s cardigan next to the Holst yarn, I’m afraid. I do try to remember everything, but every now and then something slips my mind.
ETA: The children’s cardigan above is The Original Cardigan designed by Sophie Ochera knit in Holst Garn supersoft. A great pattern for using up yarn remnants.

After a couple of hours of soaking up colours and inspiration, and choosing some yarn, my husband joins me again and we eat our sandwiches strolling around the village.

The Saint Nicholas church on the top of the terp is a patchwork of bricks from different eras. The oldest part, the tower, dates from the 13th century. Cyclists or hikers following long-distance route Het Ziltepad are welcome to stay the night in the church. I’d love to do that sometime.

But for now, we’re just strolling through the quiet village, where hydrangeas are flowering behind the privet hedges.

Where it is as if time has stood still.

And where everyone seems to be snoozing during this warm lunchtime hour.

So peaceful.

During the summer months, Seldensa is one of the stops along the Vlasroute. This 30-kilometre long route tells the story of flax and the products made from it, like linen and linseed oil. Info about the Vlasroute can be found here. And my earlier blogpost about the route here.  I hope you enjoyed this little outing and hope to see you again soon. Until then, stay cool!

Rest for the Restless

by

Together, my daughter and I have taken out a subscription to The Simple Things for a year. She gets the magazine in her letterbox first, and I get it when she’s read it. That means I’m always behind, but I don’t mind. I’m now reading the April issue, which contains an interview with James and Helen Rebanks. They have a farm in the English Lake District, are both authors and have four children aged 7 to 19.

One of the things that come up in the article is how they find balance in their busy lives, and Helen says something that really strikes a chord with me: “Rest is a huge part of regenerative agriculture. Plants need time to grow, time to flower,

time to set seed

and time to recuperate. […] People are the same. We can’t push our bodies and minds to the max all the time. We need periods where things are slower and quieter, particularly as creative people. Sometimes we just need to stare out of the window

or take a walk and let things mull.” (Quote The Simple Things, April 2025, p. 49; photos mine.)

Yes, absolutely, hmm (can you see me nodding in agreement?). But what if you are too restless to rest? Hot summer weather does that to me. I really struggle with that, but have found some ways of dealing with it:

  • Take a walk every day no matter what.
  • Wear sunglasses. On the one hand, I hate having a barrier between myself and others and not being able to see the world in its true colours. On the other hand, aside from protecting my eyes, sunglasses also seem to give my brain some rest.
  • Snatch brief moments of rest and have a list at hand of small things to do during those moments. That may sound like a contradiction (resting – doing), but doing certain things (see below) can be more restful to me than just sitting around doing nothing.
  • Read one article in a magazine. Or, if even too restless for that, just look at the pictures and/or cut some out and stick them in a scrapbook.
  • Listen to one song. Three of my favourites (in random order):
  1. Dùn – Ailie Robertson
  2. Chord Left – Agnes Obel
  3. On the Nature of Daylight – Max Richter
  • KNIT!!! (even if it is just a couple of rows).
  • Spin (even if it is just for five minutes).
  • Play with colour – with pencils, water colours or yarn.

These beautiful little hanks were hand-dyed by Marianne of Lindelicht (who is taking the entire month of June off to rest). It is a blend of blue-faced Leicester wool and silk, and each hank is 3 g/24 m/26 yds.

Some yarns are so beautiful that I don’t use them because I’m afraid of ‘wasting’ them, but what’s the use of that when they are then languishing away in a dark corner? So I’m determined to do something with this yarn this summer, but what? It is sold as embroidery yarn, so that’s an option. Or could I use it for knitting or crochet? Or a combination of several techniques?

Something outside my comfort zone?
Or something inside my comfort zone?

Well, I hope this summer will bring you some time to rest, whether at home or away. We’re not going anywhere this summer, but I may take a short rest from blogging now and then. Or I may not – I just don’t know yet and don’t have a plan at all (eek! – that’s very unusual for me). Anyway, I hope to see you here from time to time. xxx