Hello! How I would have loved to write a really wintry post today, with photographs of a snowy landscape with a bright sky, or of frozen lakes and canals with people ice skating. But alas! It’s grey here. Very grey.
And wet and dark. Ah well, it is often like this in the weeks before Christmas. I’m fine with it really, and go out for a walk every day no matter what the weather. At home it’s cosy, with candles everywhere and the Christmas tree in the living room. On Saturday I found this new (second-hand) addition to it.
Every morning, I start the day by adding a few pieces to a wooden puzzle. Our daughter put them in the Advent calendar mittens I gave her last year (described in this post). I can see this becoming a tradition, with the mittens going back and forth between our homes every year.
It’s an amazing puzzle. At first I thought it was going to be a star, but now I can see that it is becoming an animal head (a fox?). There are all kinds of animals, birds, flowers and leaves hidden in it. One of the pieces in mitten number 17 was a wolf.
This autumn, there hasn’t been anything interesting like the Advent mittens on my needles. I just didn’t have the energy or the spirit. Instead, I’ve been knitting lots of simple things: A garter stitch scarf and 1×1 ribbed hat for a niece who is leaving for Stockholm in January, and a stocking stitch pullover for our son-in-law. The pullover pieces are now drying on blocking mats.
I didn’t use a pattern, but simply improvised. (Yarn: Rowan Softyak DK – shade 240 Pasture.) If I get a move on, I should be able to finish it before their Christmas visit.
I’ve also been knitting some simple 4-ply socks. (Pink-brown pair: Lang SuperSoxx Berry – shade Raspberry; Blue-grey ones: Rellana Flotte Socke Patagonia Männersache – shade 1730.) I simply love knitting simple socks.
Tomorrow it’s the winter solstice, in five days’ time it’s Christmas, and in only eleven days it’s New Year’s Eve. In previous years, it was often on the very last day of the year or a couple of days earlier at most that I suddenly thought, ‘Oh, another year has rushed by and what have I actually done with it? And what about the coming year?’
This year, inspired by Leo Babauka’s Month of Reflection, I’ve been pondering these questions during the entire Advent period. That doesn’t mean that I spent a whole month sitting cross-legged on the floor, but I did take some time here and there to reflect on 2024 and set intentions for 2025. Leo’s four-step approached really helped me structure my thoughts, because they can get seriously tangled.
It has helped me see the path ahead of me more clearly.
(In springtime this particular path is bordered by a carpet of wood anemones – see this blog post).
I’m really looking forward to the festive season and 2025 now, and have already started on a pair of Selbu mittens…
… and found a Norwegian book to read alongside.
Another small felt kit lies waiting to be made into a butterfly…
… and I am brimming with many more ideas for things to make and write about in the coming year.
I’m taking some time off now to knit, read, sew, rest and be with my loved ones. I wish you a lovely and peaceful festive season, with plenty of time to be with the people you love best and to do some of the things you love doing most. Thank you for visiting me here and I hope to see you again early next year!
To close off, here is a picture of the most beautiful Christmas wreath I’ve seen this year, glowing golden amongst all the damp and greyness.
The weather has been a mixed bag here lately – something in between autumn and winter, with quite a bit of rain and wind, but some sunnier days as well. On a chilly day with rain showers interspersed with sunny spells we went for a walk in the nearby wetland area.
It’s quiet at this time of year, and the colours are subtly beautiful.
I never really noticed before that water lily leaves have autumn colours, too, just like the leaves on trees.
Small metal windmills are used for managing the water levels. The land needs to be wet enough for reed and other plants to grow, but not too wet for reed mowing and haymaking.
During these walks the exercise keeps me warm. But at home, working at my computer, I often get chilled to the bone. In other words, I could do with a warmer sweater than the ones I usually knit, like Sundborn – the cardigan on the front cover of the Swedish cardigan book I brought home from the Handwerkbeurs:
It is knit from Léttlopi, just like several other cardigans in the book. Léttlopi is an Aran-weight Icelandic yarn I’ve had my eye on for ages. It is warm, affordable and comes in a large range of beautiful colours. But it feels so rough and scratchy on the skein that I thought I’d never be able to wear it.
I’m very sensitive to itchy yarn. Clothing labels can drive me crazy, synthetic fibres bring out patches of eczema, and I’ve had to part with several hand-knit sweaters because they itched so much I just couldn’t wear them.
I’ve heard good stories about Léttlopi, though, and oh, those gorgeous heathered colours! So, I prudently bought one skein and knit a few swatches to get to know it better.
The swatches felt a little softer after a Eucalan bath, but still pretty rustic (can you see the hairs?). I decided to ‘wear’ one of them for a day and first pinned it to the inside neck of my red cardigan.
No itching in my neck or between my shoulder blades after an entire morning. Then I wore it on the inside of my elbow (a very sensitive spot), between my cardi and my shirt sleeve for several hours. Still no itching. Finally I wore it inside my shirt sleeve, on my bare(!) skin, for several more hours. And strangely it didn’t itch at all! Yay! Now, what colours to choose? Subtle ones, like those of our countryside in autumn and winter? Or brighter ones reminiscent of summer skies and flowers?
I’d also love to make a cardigan from Maja Karlsson’s cardigan book for my daughter, knit from the same yarn – this one:
I’ve given her a Léttlopi swatch, so that she can try it out and for herself answer the ultimate question about knitting yarn – does it itch?
Hello! Can you smell the scent of spices wafting to you from my kitchen through the internet? I’ll give you the recipe further on, but first I’d like to talk a bit about buttons. My Norwegian cardi still needed buttons, so I went to a nearby haberdashery shop. On a drizzly morning, when everything else in the street was still closed, it was a haven of colour and cosiness.
It is a tiny shop, crammed with sewing and knitting notions, tools and yarns. And they have a fabulous button wall.
The cardigan I knit is a kind of greyish, fairly dark blue. So, I first looked at blue buttons.
I found some in the right size that matched my yarn exactly, but… they looked a bit dull. Looking at the wooden button section for something more exciting, I fell in love with these – aren’t they fun?
The cardigan I sewed them on to is the Lang Yndlingskofte from Kofteboken 2 (this beautiful Norwegian book can be found here on Ravelry). It’s the cardigan I steeked in this blogpost. The yarn I used is CaMaRose ‘Økologisk Hverdagsuld’ (100% organic wool, 150m/164yds/50g). It is warm and light, and became very nice and soft after washing. A really, really lovely yarn. I’ve shortened the cardi by 10 cm/4 inches, but it is still fairly long and would also be great worn with a dress.
So, what is that on the baking tray I’m holding in my hands? Kruidnootjes! Kruidnootjes (literally: spice nuts) are a traditional Dutch Sinterklaas treat. In the Netherlands, Sinterklaas is celebrated with gifts on December 5th, the eve of Saint Nicholas’ Day. Three weeks before the day, the venerable Sinterklaas arrives in the country by steamboat. We welcome him with special songs, and in the weeks leading up to the celebration we eat tons of kruidnootjes. They’re great to bake with children. Here is my recipe:
Kruidnootjes
(makes about 100)
Ingredients:
100 g self-raising flour
50 g dark brown muscovado sugar
40 g unsalted butter (softened)
1 tablespoon mixed spice*
A pinch of salt
2 tablespoons milk
*The Dutch spice mix used in this and other traditional recipes is called speculaaskruiden. It does not always have exactly the same ingredients, but is usually a blend of: ground cinnamon, coriander, aniseed, ginger, nutmeg, cardamon and cloves. Sometimes it also contains pepper or allspice. If you can’t get speculaaskruiden where you live, why not make your own? A beautifully illustrated recipe can be found here.
Method:
Knead all the ingredients together by hand until they form a ball. Wrap the ball in clingfilm and place it in the fridge for 30 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 175˚C/345˚F (hot air: 160˚C/320˚F)
Roll the dough into about 100 small balls (approx. 1.5 cm/½ inch in diameter). Place them on a lightly greased baking tray.
Place them in the oven…
… and bake for 20 minutes.
Leave to cool until they are nice and crunchy.
Eat straightaway or store in an airtight container
Hello! I hope this finds you all well. Today, I’m diving deep into a knitting technique – one way of finishing a steek, with button bands with knitted-on facings. Perhaps you’re already familiar with steeking. If not, let me explain.
I have been knitting a long Norwegian cardigan top-down and in the round, with a stranded colourwork yoke. At first it looks like a long sweater or mini-dress. To become a cardigan, it must be cut open. And to that end, a ‘panel’ of several extra stitches (in this case five) is knit in the centre front. Together these stitches form the steek. In the yoke the steek is clearly visible (between arrows), in the body it is just five stitches like all the rest.
I marked the centre of the steek with basting stitch in red yarn.
With my sewing machine, I zigzagged through the stitches on either side of the centre stitch, to prevent them from unravelling.
This is what it looks like after zigzagging.
The five stitches between the red arrows form the steek: the centre stitch with the red basting stiches down the middle, one stitch with zigzags on either side, and one more stitch on either side of that.
Then I took a deep breath and cut!
The zigzags keep the knitting from falling apart.
Now the button bands are knit. A little shorter than the fronts – they will be stretched out when they are sewn on.
The steek stitches are folded to the inside when the button band is sewn on. For a tidy look, they need to be covered somehow. In this case they will be covered by a facing. The facing is knit on to the button band – four stitches in stocking stitch next to the ribbing (arrow below):
I pinned the button bands in place and sewed them on to the fronts with mattress stitch from the right side of the fabric, just like you would seam separate pieces of a sweater together.
After that, the facings need to be fastened to the fronts on the wrong side of the fabric with invisible stitches to cover the cut stitches of the steek. This takes time and patience. I did it in instalments. All in all, sewing on the button bands and sewing the facings in place took me at least two hours. And I have to say, it looks very neat! Can you see it? The button band to the right, with the 4-stitch facing to the left of it:
Hardest parts of the steeking:
Plucking up the courage to do it.
Not accidentally zigzagging the back of the cardigan to the front.
What I would do differently next time:
Weave in the ends before zigzagging the steek (loose yarn ends got caught between the zigzags).
Use a wider zigzag.
Finally, I knit on the lower ribbing. Now all the cardigan needs is a nice bubble bath and buttons. I hope I’ve shown and described the entire process clearly enough and given you the courage to maybe try steeking this way someday.
I’m off to the Handwerkbeurs now – THE knitting/crochet/embroidery/quilting event of the year around here. If I don’t forget to take photographs I’ll tell you about it next week. Hope to see you then. Bye!
Hello! Sitting down at my computer to write this, it occurs to me that every story can be told from different angles. I could choose to make today’s post into a blood-curdling story, with ghost rows (boo!), yarn the colour of blood, a ripped-off limb and nightmare-inducing toadstools. But I think the world is scary enough as it is without me adding to it, so I’m choosing to write a comforting tale instead.
Once upon a time, in a small low-lying country, there was a woman who was feeling miserable on a personal level and filled with worries about the world. Blue was her favourite colour, followed by green and pink, but now she was suddenly longing for something red.
Well, yes, that’s lovely, but not exactly what she meant.
Very nice, too, but that wasn’t what she meant either.
What she was longing for was red yarn for something simple and comforting to knit. Fortunately she knew that if she climbed the stairs in her very own home, turned right and then left at the top, she’d come to a portal leading to a secret hoard of yarny treasures. And lo and behold, she found exactly what she wanted – six 100-gram skeins of worsted-weight red wool. With a little techno-wizardry, the perfect pattern landed in her in-box and she could start knitting.
The pattern designer said this top-down and seamless cardigan could be knit in 4 days, but the woman in our story didn’t have magic flying needles and it took her a couple of weeks longer. Partly because after she’d knit the first sleeve she realized it was far too tight, had to rip it out and re-knit it using a larger needle. Would she never learn that she always needed to go up a needle size for sleeves knit in the round? Still, fairly quickly it was finished.
But, oh, how disappointing. It didn’t look nearly as nice as the designer’s cardi and the front bands seemed far too short. Maybe it needed a good soak and some blocking magic?
Ah, yes, much better. Now the wave pattern along the fronts looked lovely, and the front bands were the right length, too.
The cardigan is designed to be worn open, with quite a large gap between the fronts. The woman in our story wanted a little more coverage and made hers one size larger than recommended. She also lengthened the cardi by approx. 5 cm/2.5” and gave it long sleeves instead of ¾-length ones. Even though she didn’t feel in the least like a fairy-tale princess, she thought it would be useful to have her picture taken to show you what it looks like when worn:
Unable to get the correct row gauge (instead of 24, she got 27 rows to 10 cm/4”), the woman inserted several extra rows without increases (called ‘ghost rows’ by the designer) into the raglan, because otherwise it would be too tight. She was afraid these rows would spoil the nice and regular raglan slant, but they didn’t show at all.
Blue would always remain the woman’s favourite colour, but red was just right for this cardi – and for this time of the year, too.
Knitting the red cardigan had not magicked all the woes and worries of the world away, but at least it had been peaceful and its gentle magic had made the woman feel better inside.
In case you could use some of this kind of magic, too, here are some links:
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!
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!
I hope this all makes sense and is useful. If you ever have any questions, do let me know!
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!
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!
Hello! Almost August. All schools are closed. Many people are away on holiday or will be going soon. And even more people have come to spend their summer holidays here, cycling and canoeing, sailing and sightseeing. We’re not going anywhere (having already had a holiday in May), but I do feel the need to slow down a bit. Usually I’m buzzing about like a bee, but in August, I’d like to be more like a snail, taking things slow and withdrawing into my shell from time to time.
That doesn’t mean I won’t be here, on my blog, but it does mean that my posts will take on a different shape. Maybe I’ll send you a few ‘postcards’. Maybe I’ll take you along on an outing. Maybe I’ll have some knitting or other crafts inspiration to share. I don’t know yet, but I’m fairly sure my August posts will involve fewer words. Today’s post will still be an ordinary chatty one, though, with some knitting, two books and a few other small things.
My Lang Yndlingskofte is growing nicely.
Only the yoke has colourwork in it – the rest is just plain stocking stitch. So there’s room for some more Norwegian colourwork alongside. I already have the idea and yarn for that and can start swatching.
Speaking of swatching, I’ve knit a couple of swatches using Ístex Léttlopi. I’ve never used it before because it feels rather, ehm, rustic on the skein. I very much want to like it, though, because it comes in so many beautiful colours, is an ideal weight for warm winter sweaters and because it comes from Iceland. But won’t it be terribly scratchy? Will I be able to wear it at all?
After knitting and washing the swatches, it feels considerably softer. Not supersoft, but maybe just about soft enough to wear. Should I give it a try and use it for a sweater? Have you ever used it? What do you think?
The pink sweet peas next to the swatches were a thank-you gift from my knitting student’s garden. Aren’t they gorgeous? In our last lesson before the summer break, she finished the wedding ring cushion she’s been knitting for her sister’s upcoming wedding. For the scalloped edges she also had to learn to crochet – a steep learning curve, but she did it! Before the ceremony, the wedding rings will be fastened to the cushion with the ribbon tied in a bow.
The cushion measures approximately 14 x 14 cm/5½ x 5½ in. We substituted a mercerized cotton for the silk yarn used in the pattern, and an improvised scalloped edging for the pattern’s simple one.
The pattern is from Luxury Yarn One-Skein Wonders: 101 Small Indulgences (Storey Publishing 2008, Ed. Judith Durant). The book can be found here on Ravelry. There is a whole series of these One-Skein Wonders books (Designer, Lace, Sock-yarn One-Skein Wonders etc.) and each one is filled with great ideas for small gifts.
While knitting on the Norwegian Lang Yndlingskofte I’ve also been reading a Norwegian novel – The Ice Palace by Tarjei Vesaas (NO: Is-slottet; NL: Het ijspaleis). It is about two young girls: outgoing and popular Siss and quiet and withdrawn Unn. Shortly after they become fast friends, Unn disappears and Siss more or less freezes. It is a story of loss, grief and healing in which a frozen waterfall (the ice palace of the title) plays an important part.
It’s a beautifully written and poetic story that couldn’t be anything else but Norwegian. Here is a quote (Penguin Modern Classics edition, p. 91):
“The pine needles stretch their tongues and sing an unfamiliar nocturnal song. Each tongue is so small that it cannot be heard; together the sound is so deep and powerful that it could level the hills if it wished.”
What I found particularly moving was how the girls’ classmates gather round and support Siss. In that sense The Ice Palace is the antithesis of William Golding’s Lord of the Flies with its children turning into little savages. The Ice Palace is a true gem – thank you for the tip E.!
I hope to read another Norwegian book in August, and also hope to have lots of quiet spinning time.
Before closing off, here is one last thing – the second of my embroidered cross stitch bees. (This one was a great exercise in French knots.) On the whole I don’t like tiles, artwork or crafts projects with “Be Happy” on them. To me, it feels like a brusque command to do something I’m afraid I’ll fail miserably at. Happiness is such a fleeting thing.
But this time I’m taking it to mean:
May you be happy, may you be well, may you be peaceful and at ease for many moments every day.
A far less catchy and embroiderable phrase, I know, but I prefer this kind of nuance and gentleness. Whether you’re staying at home or going away on holiday, this is my wish for all of you.
Hello! While some of you have been melting in a heatwave, we have had extremely variable weather with strong winds, sunshine, rain, thunderstorms. One moment the sky was bright blue…
… and the next dark clouds gathered and the rain pelted down.
In other parts of the country, the storms uprooted trees and caused other havoc. Here, the wind only tore off some pears in our back garden.
On the whole, it’s been great knitting weather. Between the showers I’ve taken my knitting outside for some pictures. I’ve started on a Norwegian cardigan.
The pattern is in Kofteboken 2, by Lene Holme Samsøe and Liv Sandvik Jakobsen. This beautiful and inspiring, partly linen-bound book contains patterns for 27 sweaters, mostly cardigans with a few pullovers thrown in. There are patterns for adults and children as well as some background stories about designers, motifs, yarns and history. One of the great things about the book is that many of the sweaters are shown in several sizes, colours and different yarns.
It is in Norwegian, but as a knitter you’ll probably understand most terms and the photography is so clear that the sweaters can almost be knit by looking at the pictures alone. The authors’ website can be visited here, and the book can be found here on Ravelry.
The cardigan I’m making is called Lang Yndlingskofte, it is knit from the top down and has a yoke with bands of motifs in two colours. This is what it looks like in the book:
Question marks:
Knit a 5-stitch or a 7-stitch steek? – Answer: 5-stitch steek as per pattern
Shorten cardigan (considerably)?
Add pockets?
Buttons on entire front as in pattern or just on yoke?
Knit on facing to cover steek stitches or cover them with ribbon?
The yarn I’m using is CaMaRose ‘Økologisk Hverdagsuld’ (100% organic wool, 150m/164yds/50g).
The pattern gauge for the Yndlingskofte is 22 sts to 10cm/4”. My swatches gave: 22 sts on 3mm/US 2,5 needles and 20 sts on 3,5mm/US 4 needles. The 22-stitch swatch was spot-on, but it felt stiff and I decided to go with the looser 20-stitch gauge. This means that I’ll knit a smaller size that will hopefully turn out the right size for me at this gauge.
I’ve also washed and blocked the socks I wrote about in last week’s post. The yarn used for them is Lana Grossa ‘Landlust Die Sockenwolle’ (420m/460yds/100g) in shade 119, neutrals with bands in the rosy red of our ‘Lipstick’ roses.
The yarn doesn’t have a special starter thread to ensure that both socks turn out the same. Getting them exactly the same is a fun game.
The soundtrack to today’s post is Between the Showers – Irish harp music played by Gráinne Hambley. You can listen to some fragments here. I once attended a workshop led by her, and she told us her name is pronounced something like Gron-yuh (stress on first syllable).
Well, that’s all for today. I hope the weather (and life in general) is kind to you, and hope to see you again next week.