Knitted Bear

One week

2012-01-30T21:58:00.000Z

You know when you have a week where everything falls into place: you get more full nights' sleep than not; the laundry fates align so that every family member's clothes are both clean and dry when they need them; delicious suppers materialise out of things you'd bought from a list, with a meal plan; your hair falls naturally into the bouncy glossy style only normally produced by your stylist and an army of blow drying assistants; trains run on time; and at work, opposing counsel lie like scattered dominoes, felled by the devastating power of your carefully worded legal arguments.

And then there are the weeks that counterbalance. The ones where a twitch of your skirt has got caught up in life's mangle, and there's nothing to do but ride out the storm and wait for it to spit you out sodden, snotty and slightly crushed on the other side.

Where have we been? let me give you a clue. Poor darling Kit's cough of a week ago turned into a full blown chest infection, complete with steam-train breathing sound effects that landed us at the out of hours doctors at some tiny wee hour of a weekend morning to get mademoiselle started on antibiotics pronto. And then just as she started to perk up, H and I, exhibiting rare synchronicity on the illness front, were taken out by the same lurgy within 24 hours of each other, just in time for H to take an exam through a cold fog momentarily held at bay by just about every over-the-counter pharmaceutical on the market. My pharmacopoeia being rather limited by the nursling, I've made up for it by a lot of groaning.

Last Tuesday I went down with a fever and the shivers and it wasn't until Sunday afternoon that I started to perk up, and only today that I've felt even vaguely human, and that's while speaking makes me cough, and I appear to have swallowed several golf balls.

On Saturday, having run out of, well just about everything, we ran a carefully planned mission to the butchers (for pie) and then both had to have a little lie down. Seriously people, if you know me in real life and you haven't had this horrid cold that's doing the rounds - run and hide (and chain eat Vitamin C).

But life goes on, and we are on the mend, a little less:

and a little more:

The fairies came at the weekend and did the washing up and took us for a restorative roast lunch at the Durham Ox and you never know, if you're very lucky, there may even be some crafty making in the offing. Come on this week, you really can't be worse than last week (and for the avoidance of doubt, that in no way shape or form resembled a challenge)!

Seasonally appropriate quilting

2012-01-21T21:12:00.001Z

Thank you for your help and suggestions for fixing my chronic inability to count. The popular vote was for option C - pick out the offending line and fudge it somehow and, by the power of evenweave, I think I've managed something that looks almost as if it was supposed to be like that. But more on that another day when I've had time to finish it properly and find some sunshine for some pictures.

Today we went to town, ran errands, and came home again, and then had lunch, went to town and ran the errands we forgot to do this morning. It's been a deja vu sort of a day, but that could just be the sleep deprivation talking. Kitty is currently combining the arrival of two new teeth (1 front, 1 molar) with a grotty cold, and to stave off the feelings of misery that clearly envelop her own bed, is showing a marked preference for sleeping on my head, preferably while simultaneously pulling my hair and kicking her father, and all three of us are wading through the sandman's cloying glue trying not to leave our boots behind.

I've only been embroidering while in full possession of my facilities to prevent any more counting incidents, so in the non-nursing gaps of the evenings I've turned back to my sewing machine for a little quilting.

Well I'm not sure this even counts as proper quilting. I've been adding the borders to my Christmas quilt, just long long seams to add a 2.5 inch white border that will eventually be finished off with a red binding.

The quilt in question started life as a jelly roll, and then I needed another one to get enough white background prints to have the desired effect, and then a few charm squares for the same reason. I ended up with a good pile of charm squares left over so I've used them to piece the back with some Kona solids for company.

One of today's final errands was to pop into Quilter's Den in Warwick for some cotton wadding and deep red quilting thread, and now that Kitty is asleep (for the moment) and H has popped out to compare parenting notes with a fellow NCT class Daddy in the pub, I'm going to push back the sofa, roll up the Aquadoodle, tuck small pieces of toddler-related plastic into all available nooks and crannies, and baste baste baste.

Oh Christmas tree

2012-01-19T21:10:00.001Z

With one New Year's Resolution (Kitty's trousers) ticked off the list, I'm feeling very January-enthusiastic and I'm motoring along with another, this time from the Crafty Creating section.

You see for someone whose craft polygamy flits from knitting to quilting (and a little sewing) and back again, I buy a lot of cross stitch magazines. And they (particularly Cross Stitcher) frequently have beautiful patterns, and I think to myself, "I must make that, it would look cute/match perfectly/be so much fun", and I put the magazine in a pile on my sewing room floor, and there it sits.

It isn't such a big jump to imagine me actually doing some embroidery, I started in cross stitch, taught by my mum to sew a little red poinsettia picture to fit a dark green card one Christmas holidays, and I believe that she still owns the set of tea-napkins painstakingly embroidered by me with blue lazy-daisy flowers with a good deal of coaxing and cajoling from my grandmother when my enthusiasm wained after the second of the six (I can't have been much more than six myself). A folder full of DMC threads sits in a corner of my knitting box and a little bag of kits and spare fabric is tucked into a corner of my sewing room upstairs.

So in the spirit of Christmas-always, I picked up a pattern, found the fabric and one of the colours in my stash, acquired the other from Decorative Cloth, and set to.

It is the Deck the Halls pattern from the Christmas 2011 issue, which I didn't buy in hard copy, but found as a back issue through the ITunes Newstand. Incidentally, Future Publishing whose stable includes Cross Stitcher, Mollie Makes, The Knitter and Simply Knitting, have launched all of the above and many of their other magazines onto ITunes with an introductory free download issue. I don't know how long that will last for but a free magazine is never a bad thing, particularly when it can't add to the clutter in your house.

But back to the stitching, it's red and white, it's simple to sew and pretty to look at, and I've been enjoying stitching away to some old favourite films - the sort that you don't actually need to look at!

But clearly, watching Persuasion (for the 100th and something time) was a bad idea. Look carefully. Somewhere around the time that Fredrick Wentworth realised that he did love Anne Elliott after all but was seemingly inextricably bound to Louisa Musgrove, I was counting down to position the house neatly under the snowflakes.

It was only as I worked back up the tree, adding in the backstitch that I could see clearly that I've counted a row short. There should be an extra line of canvas so that the zig zag line doesn't touch the snowflakes, but I've mushed it together a bit.

Now snipping out everything underneath the zig zag line is more time consuming than it's worth so my options are: (a) leave it, it looks fine, it's only obvious if I point it out (b) start all over again on a fresh piece of fabric (and possibly finish this one and give it away to someone who won't notice, or (c) snip out the zig zag line and fudge something along the lines of a shallower zig zag so that it doesn't actually touch the snowflakes, just come close. What would you do?

The Scoot or Cycle trousers

2012-01-16T21:17:00.000Z

I am in awe of Anna Maria Horner. Actually I'm in awe of anyone who can sit there and just visualise a sewing pattern and draft it out (although I'm pretty sure there might be a bit more work to it, and possibly a few technical courses thrown in the mix too). Where do the ideas come from the in recesses of someone's brain to have the back leg a little wider than the front leg to perfectly accommodate a little nappy-clad bottom, or to have a two part back yoke to give a bit more dimension where it's most needed, and a dip at the front to take away excess poofiness?

As I said. Awe.

I've made the Quick Change Trousers twice now, and I can only see a growth spurt that puts Kitty way way beyond the pattern sizes and my rough and ready sizing up, putting an end to wanting to make more. The aforementioned little touches of genius make me love them as a Mama trying to persuade a wriggly girl that clothes really are the way to go, and the pattern is written in a nice simple straightforward way, to help me (an advanced beginner on a good day) make trousers that I'm proud to send out into public.
It was -6 this morning so our photo shoot was short and sweet, and involved a lots of layers everywhere for both of us. Kitty stepped outside in both hat and mittens but abandoned them in the herb garden before she'd taken even a few paces so we snapped, hoped for the best, and scuttled back inside. But here they are, the Scoot or Cycle quick change trousers:

I'm torn whether I like these or the pirates best, but on a day like today, flannel lining wins the day.

Kitty certainly had no complaints which is the best you can ask for in a little girl whose vocabulary of actual words stretches little beyond Mama, Dadaaa, Yea, No, Dap (meaning "bring me! bring me that now"), Pow!, Row-row (as in Row, row, row your boat), Hiya (and variations thereon) and a whole hoard of wonderful babbling. (When she was having her bath this evening I asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, answer: "Bebe!")

They've still got massive turn ups so I'm glad she's happy wearing them because with a bit of luck they'll last all this winter and be around for next.

The sizing up over the bottom worked really well; these have exactly the right amount of ease for her to play comfortably, with no problems getting them off and on over big nappies, and the slightly wider legs don't cause any problems. The next pair will definitely have the same waist and hip increases, but I might try to shape in towards the ankle back to the original pattern width to see if it makes much difference, or whether she ends up looking like she's sporting 1920's style jodhpurs. I'm also seriously contemplating reversible shorts for the summer, using different fabric for each side and different again for the back yoke. It's true, the possibilities are endless.

What you can't see under all the layers is that the best match I have for a top half is a cream long sleeve t-shirt. Perfectly acceptable but not very exciting, and after the last aqua marl t-shirt in the right size sold out of the Mini-Boden sale before I could get to the computer yesterday, and my favourite Molo basics don't seem to do a turquoise, I'm a little out of ideas. Does anyone have any suggestions for a long sleeved shirt that might match? In the meantime I'm cutting a swatch of the fabrics to carry around in my workbag and planning an onslaught on the baby shops of Birmingham during this week's lunch hours.

The Bare Necessities

Pattern: Quick Change Trousers from Handmade Beginnings
Size: 18-24 months (the largest size) with 0.5 inch added to the outside of each pattern piece.
Fabric: Sherbet Pips Pink Skaters (cotton) and Michael Miller Bicycles (cotton flannel) both from Fabricworm in their Thanksgiving sale - I can't see either on their site at the time of writing.
Time to make: an evening for the cutting out, two naps and another evening to finish - about 6 hours start to finish.
Would I make it again: Yes. Definitely. Watch this space.

Winter, as in igloos and eskimos and penguins and ICE!

2012-01-15T23:40:00.000Z

It turns out that I may have been a tad over-optimistic in putting the laundry out yesterday!

From one of the mildest winters in my memory we've jumped down the thermometer 10 degrees or so, although it's not a patch on last year, when a brisk minus two was the daily high. Even so, the world outside today is covered with a brittle of ice, like a white cold creme brulee.

The fuchsias that had decided that it was spring have been scorched by the ice and defrosted into a pulpy mush, but these delicate pink berries seem to be holding up. I don't actually know what they are; they grow over the fence each year to greet the new year, and I think they're beautiful. Answers on a postcard/in the comments if you've any ideas.

The barbeque, sat outside patiently waiting all through the summer for the promised warm weather, could do double duty as a freezer, and it is to my great regret that Kitty's trousers

say "Ahoy there matey", and not the more appropriate "Shiver me Timbers".

We had Kitty's slide out in the lounge today so a lot of the day has been spent first lifting her up to the top, and then stretching out a watchful hand or two just in case when she figured out how to climb the steps. I did manage a little sewing last night and this afternoon while Mademoiselle la princess took a petite nap.

Her newest trousers are finished, I just need some daylight and a cheerful girl to take some pictures, but there've been distractions today, aside from the slide, the first instalment of Kitty's Christmas present to me arrived yesterday, and it's an addictive read:

Sizing up

2012-01-14T14:04:00.000Z

It seems that winter is finally putting in an appearance around these parts. I have laundry on the line more in the hope of it smelling nice after a blast in the sunshine than actually drying, and when we headed out to the supermarket at 10 this morning I still had to spend a good few minutes scraping ice from the windows and mirrors with the aid of a bottle of warm water.

Perhaps my next project is then rather serendipitously timed. I've been planning on making Kitty another pair of the Quick Change trousers from Anna Maria Horner's Handmade Beginnings book for a little while. Jo over at A Life in Lists, mentioned the idea of using flannel for the linings in a post on her plans for her boys' winter wardrobe, and it seemed like such a great idea for snuggly winter trews that I'm shamelessly copying it.

A Black Friday sale at Fabricworm brought me a little parcel of pretty fabric just before Christmas (Sherbet Pips pink skaters and Michael Miller bicycles blue cotton flannel), and I've been sat looking at it as I knit, and thinking about how best to size these new trousers.

The pair I made for Kitty's birthday in the size 18-24 months (the largest pattern size) are a great length on my little 15 month old, but she still has that babyish chubbiness (particularly when you factor a cushy washable nappy into the mix) that makes them not tight exactly, but with a little less ease than I think would make for a perfect fit.

Her two pairs of dungarees are a great fit, with lots of room for an active little girl to romp around in, and you can see from the comparison that they are both a little bit wider across the derriere.

You can also see that her pirate trousers need another wash but we'll gloss over that.

I've decided to try to add an inch to the circumference to match them to the pink flowery dungarees, which should also allow for any extra space taken up by the flannel which is a shade thicker than the quilting cotton that I used for the first version.

I copied out the pattern onto baking parchment and then used my long skinny quilting ruler to follow the line for the outside edge of the pattern piece at the half inch mark, turning it gently as the curve moved away from the straight line. The front and the back leg were easy enough, I can only hope that I've got the extra space on the right side of the back yoke, but for that only time will tell.

I know it means that I'll have more space at the ankle than I had previously, and there are no real needs to increase there, but it seemed more sensible to cut for the extra space and then try them on Kitty. If I need to bring it back to the original lines that will be easy enough to do, and I can mark the point at which I start to want the extra width on my real life model, without having to guestimate while she sleeps.

I did the cutting out earlier this week and it's all been sat in a little pile of fabric temptation on my newly tidied desk as I slogged away to finish a work project in almost every evening this week. But now the project is done (until Tuesday anyway) and there's time for a little sewing of the non-Christmas, non-deadline variety.

On the fourteenth day of Christmas ...

2012-01-10T23:18:00.001Z

our lovely friends came to play.

By virtue of some alphabetical wiztrickery, H and A were lab partners at university, realised they'd spotted each other before at church, and we've all been the best of friends ever since. We count A as family, particularly now that he is Kitty's godfather, which mostly means that I don't sweat the tidying up if he's coming over.

His better half, L, has an appreciation for the merits of Persephone books, salted caramel almonds from Hotel Chocolat and all things handmade, so we were always going to hit it off.

They came to spend a quiet cosy Sunday with us; a big roast gammon and sticky toffee pudding lunch, followed by Christmas presents, and an afternoon tucked up in my quilt collections, playing Sonic, eating sweeties, reading, knitting and playing shop with Kitty. It was restful, fun and quintessentially English; if only we had a roaring fire and it had been snowing outside we would have been quite the picture postcard (well minus the computer games perhaps).

But you didn't really want to know about all that (and apologies to anyone whose New Year's virtuosity is wavering because I mentioned sticky toffee pudding (with ice-cream)). Sunday was the unveiling of the final handmade Christmas presents for 2011.

First, there was a large, flat, square, squishy parcel for A, which Kitty assiduously helped him to unwrap.

A 'very useful quilt for snuggling under on cold winter's days when part of your house has a stone floor'

The pattern is Pandora's Box from the Jelly Roll Quilts book by Pam and Nicky Lintott, and the fabric is a Moda jelly roll that I bought from my very first Festival of Quilts. It perfectly fulfils the criteria of 'colours that I have seen A wear' and in fact he turned up in a jumper that perfectly matched the orange border.

It's a really great pattern for jelly rolls and just generally; it's nice and simple to show of the fabric to its best advantage and as it's all mixed up together, the quilt doesn't suffer for the quilter not being able to separate the jelly roll neatly into light and dark.

It also lent itself to a piecemeal construction. On one evening I took the jelly roll apart and did the first stage of cutting, another night I matched the strips into pairs for the centre sections, sewed them together during one nap time, and cut the second stage during another. At the end of each stage, all the pieces could be tucked away from tiny fingers in a bag without loosing my place, or upsetting a precisely piled stack of cut pieces.

Once I'd sewn up the main quilt top I stood back and marvelled at the centre points of the blocks; my quilting has improved so gradually through little bits of practice here and there I forget that I can be pretty accurate now if I take my time to do it properly.

The border is a flaming orange and gold weave; it doesn't feel like a printed quilting cotton but is much softer with more drape. There was just enough on the bolt at Quilter's Den for the borders or I would have been tempted to have a little bit more for a skirt in one of my favourite colours.

I had enough white on lime green polka dots left over from my sampler quilt for the binding, so all that was left was to choose the backing, and what a backing:

Enough sunshine to chase away any rainy day gloom (also from Quilter's Den). I really ought to pay more attention to the names of the fabric I'm buying I know.

I used a pure cotton wadding and quilted it all over with lime green thread in a square stipple.

I can't imagine life without my quilts, they have so many uses from extra blankets on cold nights to tents in the lounge and space to lie out in the garden in the heat of summer so I'm glad A and L like their very own.

And just in case he doesn't share -

L has a pair of handknit socks. It's Regia (definitely Regia this time - I found the ball band) Circus Colour in Akrobatik, bought on my last trip to Liberty's. L once borrowed a pair of my shoes on an impromptu muddy walk so I knit to fit me, using a 64st cast on and a slip stitch heel and I think they should keep her feet nice and warm walking around the stone floor of their kitchen on chilly mornings.

So there we have it; four pairs of socks, two quilts, a hat, a scarf and a jumper. Not a bad turn out considering that I didn't start until mid-October. Maybe this will be the year that I start a bit earlier (yes yes, I can hear your hollow laughter from here!). But first I have two new balls of Rowan Big Wool in a delicious deep pomegranate to go and squoosh.

Kittee

2012-01-07T19:15:00.000Z

The twelve days of Christmas may have ended, and the trees, lights, baubles and tinsel have been taken down and packed away and I can now confirm (with pictures) that I did finish the Christmas knitting before the end of Christmas.

The one lone little piece of knitted present that still trailed yarn and needles was a jumper for Kitty, the Immie tee by Quince & Co, knit from Sparkleduck Galaxy in a deep midnight blue with silver sparkles. I'd just about finished the body and started a sleeve when I gave it up in favour of a relaxed Christmas Eve with my family, and sure enough it was there waiting for me to do a few little rounds on Christmas afternoon as we curled up by our tree to watch the last of the daylight dance with shadows across the room.

I packed it to take north after the end of the profiterole marathon, and knit as we trundled painstakingly up the motorway one day, and across on another motorway the next to stay with H's parents for a couple of nights.

I finished it one afternoon, sat in the family room as my parents-in-law enjoyed having all of their chicks and a couple of cuckoos around them, and owing to an incident involving lasagne for supper, cheese, grated cheese and a little more cheese, it was pressed into service straight away to visit Great-Gran to take tea.

Taking tea with Gran is somewhat of a ritual. Regardless of the time of day, or the proximity of any of the major meals you have to sit down at the kitchen table and have a cup of tea and a slice of cake.

For almost 13 years, H has drunk my cup of tea, and I have eaten his Ferraro Roche. That is the way that it is at Gran's. It's even more special now that Kitty's grown enough to have a big girl chair and a little Madeira cake, just as H did many many years ago.

It also helps that Gran's poodle Sasha doesn't mind helping to clear up after little girls!

Kitty played with her auntie

and had cuddles from a great-auntie who popped by

and it wasn't until we'd come back down home that I had the time or the resources to properly wash and block her latest knit.

But at last, a proper unveiling:

Jumper: Immie tee with long sleeves
Trousers: pink and purple stripes from the JoJo Maman Bebe sale
Accessories: Room on the Broom - model's own, Gruffalo socks from Little Sunflowers

It grew a little with blocking but with incredible growing not-so-tiny wee girls that's not necessarily a bad thing and I'm happy that if it's a bit big now, it will be a perfect fit before too long.

Clearly I've made one very obvious change to the pattern, I accidentally used a 3.5mm needle rather than a 3.25 and it grew sleeves! Well, ok, I did use slightly larger needles and didn't notice until I double checked them in preparation for the sleeves but I like the drape of the resultant fabric and I wasn't going to re-knit the whole body. She's wearing it here as a t-shirt layer over a long sleeved vest which works well, although it also works well as a more traditional jumper; in the pictures at Great-Gran's she's got a thick penguin t-shirt and a vest underneath.

The original pattern has cute little cap sleeves but full length sleeves are a rather necessary ingredient for a Christmas jumper in England, even in this unseasonably mild winter, and I had plenty of yarn so I invented them.

This is the largest size, and the pattern would have you cast on 57 stitches and work a few rows of garter before joining it to the body. I cast on two-third of the stitches (38), joined them in the round and worked in garter stitch for the suggested rounds, then increased up to 57 sts in the next row and worked straight until they seemed about long enough (70 rounds).

Feast

2012-01-07T15:52:00.001Z

Whether they realised it or not, I know for a fact that the key influence on H's brother and his wife's decision to move back down north from Scotland to Yorkshire last year was the proximity of their oh so cute nieces aged nearly two and one and a quarter. Kitty (and H and I) are now a couple of hours away and K (and C's sister and brother-in-law are even closer). The better jobs, bigger house and the rest of the family had nothing to do with it - oh no.

(Kitty in her party frock)

(and K in hers - it had snowmen on the bottom just out of shot)

They were working for their first Christmas back home (the perils of being doctors) so a couple of days later they hosted a party for fourteen, and both sides of their family got together for Christmas Take 2.

(Kitty explores her new Martian Mansion)

(with help from K - who clearly doesn't wiggle as much as Kitty - and Auntie A wearing the bows from everyone's presents)

H and I volunteered to bring pudding and the two Cs pushed the boat out for the starter and main course; bacon and scrambled eggs Benedict on little toasties to start, followed by a gargantuan buffet that took up most of the kitchen. We had a rib of beef that had been cooking (a la Heston) for 18+ hours at a really low heat to leave it melt in the mouth tender, and a pork belly that was brined and slow roasted for nearly the same amount of time, all polished off with roast potatoes, parsnip puree, sauteed Brussels sprouts and red onions and a selection of gravies.

Now a supper that I haven't had to cook and won't have to wash up (all hail their dishwasher) is always going to get brownie points but this was right up there in the gold star category. It was delicious and amazing and I loved it.

I also may have eaten it all before I even thought of taking any pictures.

For pudding, I spent a good part of Boxing Day making 78 profiteroles (using the Hairy Bikers' recipe), and the creme patisserie from Nigella's Feast. The next morning I used up four of my twelve spare egg whites to make the Fig, Ginger and Almond meringue from Annie Bell's Gorgeous Cakes and then we packed the whole lot up (plus a raspberry jelly as a special request from H) and drove it gingerly up a heavily laden M1.

Once we'd unpacked we found the largest remaining serving plate and started piping custard and stacking my croquembouche. I thought that making spun sugar in someone else's kitchen was a step too far, and I'm also not very good at it, so I stuck to the caramel sauce in Nigella with some ingredients purloined from our hosts and it turned out really well.

In fact the only hitch in the whole operation was that the serving plate wasn't very big. I stacked and glued the best I could and then called for an engineering consult from H (MEng) and C's Dad (model railway builder). Their professional opinion was that I'd reached my limit, so we had a big croquembouche and a little mini one on the other side of the table like sugary cairns marking the location of a feast.

So here they are:

Two croquembouche, covered with caramel sauce and dusted with snowflake sprinkles, two trees and Father Christmas,

and a spicy and light meringue that impressively survived the journey from Warwickshire with only minimal damage.
H's Mum and sister had also been busy and arrived with trays of colourful cakes - just in case anyone had any teeny tiny space left over.

We made some pretty good inroads into the table groaning with food but there was still plenty to send home with all the branches of the family, and still be left with more for late night fridge raids, and I may or may not have eaten a couple of profiteroles with my breakfast the next morning!

I don't think I was hungry again for the rest of the week. Now that's the sign of a good party - and a New Year diet.

A Handmade Christmas Part 3: for the Mummies

2012-01-03T22:47:00.001Z

Every now and then I come across a really beautiful knitting pattern, crafted from what can only be Rumplestiltskin's gold, or something else luscious looking but equally unavailable, and I sigh, and cruise the internets and Ravelry to work out a substitution, or how to not eat for a month to afford the shipping.

So when it turns out that the yarn in question is in fact a nice little Rowan, available from all number of places including a shop five hundred yards from my office; well, it seems only right and proper to knit it up right away to encourage the knitting muses to foster more such synchronicity.

I saw the Drifted Pearls scarf on Pinterest in a gentle grey, and when I saw it called for Rowan Lima, I knew I had Mum's Christmas present-to-be. It's knit as a traditional scarf with a loopy bobbly edging until you get a little over half the length you might want in an ordinary scarf, then the fabric is pleated, and the pleats securely knit into a loop. Tuck the end through the loop and you have a gorgeous warm wide scarf, perfect for Mum who tends to wear her ordinary scarves this way.

(Photo shamelessly stolen from Mum)

The Amazon blue matches the hat that I made for her last Christmas, and I hope they are both keeping her warm in the wild winds that are currently howling at our windows as they whip around the house.

Further north, lots further north, is another cozy Mum. We have a simple formula for H's Mum's Christmas gifts: fruit jellies (the good ones made with actual fruit juice) + handknit socks = happiness.

And when you know the recipient likes your knitting so much she wears holes in the heels on a regular basis, you can't but pick up the needles:

Edwardian Boating socks, knit from an Opal blank that I hand-dyed with Kool-Aid. With a linen stitch heel and a sock yarn with a 25% nylon content I'm hoping not to see these in the mending pile for many years to come, and to be honest they may fall into the 'oh darn' over the bin pile as I'm not sure I could work out how to reknit linen stitch without dropping almost all of the stitches.

It's an addictive pattern though; I'd always want to knit to the next waterboatman, and the next and the next, until I had two socks sat in front of me. I'm glad I didn't knit them for me though as the linen stitch is not very stretchy and I would never have got them over my ankles. I know if I really wanted them for me I could change the heel flap to a simple rib, but it was nice to knit them as they were designed.

That's almost all of the Christmas craftiness out in the open; the last little bit is still wrapped up under our tree, but before I'm truly caught up I've still got to tell you about the Christmas Croquembouche and my brother-in-law's amazing ultra-slow roasted beef. That'll have to wait for another day though as it's late, and after an evening spent chasing electricity with a hairdryer when we got home from work to discover that none of the plugs were working, I'm off to make a nest in which to hide from the storm with a couple of quilts, a knitted blanket and as much of the duvet as I can persuade H to part with.

A Handmade Christmas Part 2: Woolies for H

2012-01-02T22:44:00.000Z

It's said that every one of us has a love language, a way of expressing affection and feeling cherished that trumps all the others. I am a Knitter and (for want of a better word) a creativist, and my love language won't be found on any list or in any bestseller; it's Handmade (subsection Wool).

If Kitty was predestined to be snuggled in cosy handknits and handsewns from the moment of her birth, how much more yarn should be heaped upon my H; the man who puts up with my (many) foibles, has loved and supported me unwaveringly throughout some of the hardest and darkest days of my life, and who did the entire Christmas washing up single handed on Boxing Day morning while Kitty and I had a mid-morning nap.

It's really no surprise then that the Christmas knitting that I was prepared to bust bedtimes for should now belong to H.

First, the Christmas hat. From a quick count in the hat cupboard this is the fifth Christmas hat, and I'm told it's the best to date. The pattern is the Irish Moss Toque by Alexandra Charlotte Defoe, and the yarn is Rowan Felted Tweed Aran in the wonderfully named Storm Blue.

It's a really fun pattern to knit; the cables are interesting but logical so you don't have to refer back to the pattern every thirty seconds, and in an aran weight yarn you progress pretty quickly. It is worth noting that the called for yarn is sold in 100g skeins so when they say you need 2 skeins, and the yardage suggests that you need four balls of something in a 50g put up, you might not need all of the second skein; I used two and a half balls and this is a big hat with a really deep turn up. I would also recommend a circular needle rather than DPNs, even if you have to pull a loop to make it work, my standard length DPNs were just too short to keep all the stitches safely on three needles.

The yarn itself is slubby and tweedy with a bit of a crunch, enough to keep you nice and warm without being too scratchy on a bare forehead. It would make fabulous jumper yarn for a cabley aran.

I started it in the early hours of a dark Wednesday in the departure lounge of Birmingham airport, and knit the ribbing as we bounced and bumped our way through turbulence to Glasgow, and finished it late into a quiet evening a few days before Christmas, having chivied H into an early bedtime (and run him a bath).

It suits him, it fits him, and two hat-testing missions to our windy local playgroup says it keeps him warm.

Moving from a warm head to cosy toes, I gave him a pair of handspun Christmas socks:

They started out life in our house as a braid of fluffy Falkland from Spindlefrog at Wonderwool a long time ago (2009?) in the Bogdust colourway.

I spun the whole braid as a fine continuous ply and then Navajo plied it (or my approximation thereof) to preserve the flashes of neon colour in an otherwise muted green/brown yarn. I love how it turned out but were I to do it again I think that dividing the braid lengthways into three or four and then spinning each one end to end would result in shorter stripes across the entire sock, rather than the off/on effect here. It would be fun to try anyway.

The Falkland is soft and fluffy, although I'm not sure how hardy it will turn out to be. Still, socks are made to be loved and worn, and as you can see from the slightly Nora Batty-esque baggyness around the ankles, these made it to feet before photographs.

And finally, a pair of socks from Father Christmas, supplied to his elves by a convoluted system of packaging and posting made known to parents everywhere during ante-natal classes. (You thought they taught us how to look after the baby? Alas no, it's Santa's Secrets for Beginners followed by Embarrasing Your Teenager 101)

You're going to have to trust me when I tell you that this is a pair of socks. Or at least, on Christmas Day when H unpacked his stocking and immediately put them on his feet there were two. The laundry basket contains only one. Ergo, one of them is somewhere in our house. H does not know precisely where but mentioned something about a bed/sofa/other furniture and the word 'under'. It bodes well for our marriage that my love language is not the accurate placement of laundry.

It's a Regia sock yarn from the back of the stash [ETA - it's actually Fortissima Colori Socka Color No 2405 - thanks Diane!], and I think even when I bought it it was in the discontinued and discounted bin. The yarn in the ball looks like the toe and heel sections so the rest was a bit of a surprise. If you have a ball of this, it's going to pool no matter how many stitches you cast on, it's just a question of getting the pooling you can live with and then maintaining an identical tension until you finish. The colours are two or three stitches long and even the tiniest shift makes a massive difference. I restarted the first sock because my afternoon train-ride tension was producing a completely different pattern to the morning.

The finished article is crazy and random and looks rather as if a box of crayons had exploded in the yarn factory, which happily is just the kind of socks that H enjoys.

Two pairs of socks and a hat. It doesn't sound like very much does it? But at a conservative estimate it's 50 hours dedicated to cherishing my husband, and that can't be a bad gift.

Appraisal

2011-12-31T23:28:00.000Z

It's dark and rainy outside, and only the throbbing beat of some questionable music somewhere in the neighbourhood suggests that it's anything other than a dreary winter Saturday. We've been counting down the last few hours of the year in a quietly insular kind of way; a little family in hibernation, reading, colouring, playing with toys and knitting, and now Kitty is fast asleep in her cot, H is playing Sonic and I'm here - it's very flash I know!

Looking back at last January, it seems that I did manage to make some New Year's Resolutions of sorts, the most specific of which was to buy a new organiser for the cutlery drawer that actually fits. So how did I do with that one ....

ah. well. yes - lets pass over that shall we.

I wanted to take the time to uncover buried projects and really enjoy the books and materials I have, and I think I can put a tick against this one. Twelve of my knitting projects used yarn that had been in the stash for over a year, although unaccountably the yarn seems to have expanded to fit the space again, and I tackled a few things that had been on the 'make me' list for a while, such as the birthday bunting that I made for Kitty's party, her pirate trousers (scroll to the bottom) and a pretty spotty dress with ice-cream's on it that I can't remember blogging about (now sadly outgrown).

I've got some more specific aims for this year (and not just the cutlery drawer organiser either), so with a vague promise to come back this time in 2012 and see how I've done, this is my plan for the next twelve months:

Knitting:

I've got some great projects lined up so I want to continue to enjoy the stash.
I'm going to knit my Bohus Wild Apples kit and finish my 7 Chakras socks.
In a moment of weakness, H asked for a jumper and chose a pattern from a shortlist that's been loitering in my Ravelry favourites for, well lets just say 'a while', and the colour of the called-for yarn. I've a few things to finish first and then it's all systems go.
I'm going to write up my Phoenix socks pattern and publish it properly.
I'm going to design some knits for Kitty.

Quilting

Now that I've got the borders, backing and binding for my Christmas quilt, it's time to put it all together, quilt it and finish it up.
I've got fabric in the stash for ~~three~~ four complete quilt tops, and most of the fabric for two more. I'm going to make them.

Sewing

I'm going to keep sewing for Kitty; another pair of reversible trousers, and a couple of dresses at the very least.
I'm going to sew something for me (don't know what yet - any suggestions)

Crafty Creating

Every year I make Christmas presents right up until the last minute and all those Christmassy crafts get put away until after the presents. This year I'm going to have Christmas throughout the year and make the things I want for our house and our tree.
I'm going to tie down some of the pretties that float through my brain and actually make them.

Photography

I've stalled a bit; I can take pretty enough pictures but I really want to work on staging still lifes and my portrait photography - yay more pictures of a little girl who is incapable of keeping still.

That may be my specific plan for a creative 2012. But above all of that my intent for this coming year is to Cherish and Nourish.

Cherish - every little moment with our rapidly growing girl, and my lovely H; not focusing on the time we have to be apart but fully living every minute together.

Nourish - our bodies with good food and our hearts and souls with good words.

What are your New Year's plans? and do you know anywhere that sells really large cutlery organisers?

Handmade

2011-12-29T13:31:00.000Z

I'm four rounds off finishing Kitty's Christmas jumper (and a little darning in of ends and sewing of seams) so there's hope that she'll get it before the 12 days of Christmas are up. I think I can count that as finishing in time, yes?

One of the other reasons that I didn't worry too much about not having finished for the day itself was that she did have a large Mama-made parcel under the tree to open.

She isn't short of quilts or blankets, but they were all made for the bump that turned out to be her, rather than for her specifically. That and if she keeps growing at the current rate she's going to need something a little bit bigger.

This is the next size up; about 46 inches square and on me it's a lap quilt, but for her it's big enough to play tents and hide-peepo and wrap up in until she's snug.

I'm possibly setting a new personal record for the time between buying the fabric and making the quilt as it came from Il etait une fois at this summer's Quilt Festival at the NEC. I walked past the stand, took one look at a print of a little curly haired girl on a swing and knew that it was coming home with us.

The picture blocks of the little girl and the apples and houses are sold by the block and the other fabric comes by the metre (a really really wide metre).

It's really the simplest of simple quilts. I cut the blocks to 9.5 inches square and played around with them until I liked the layout, then sewed them into rows and then into the quilt top.

The backing is another length of the gorgeous multicoloured check, and the binding is the same. To quilt it, I used a red/pink/yellow variegated thread and stitched lines with my walking foot about a 1/4 inch either side of each seam to mirror the check fabric.

Kitty had caught occasional glimpses of something interesting under construction through an open doorway or perched on the back of the sofa but all attempts at further investigation were swiftly curtailed. As I mentioned in an earlier post, she unwrapped it, hugged it, and lay down and rolled in it. I love that I made her something that she loves, now all I need are some new labels that say 'Mama made it'.

Artist in residence

2011-12-26T23:34:00.003Z

My grandmother's painting of the tower of Magdalen College, Oxford, with a softly lit Cherwell flowing around the Botanical Gardens in the foreground, hangs on the wall of my sewing room; H's sketches, still lifes and landscapes are framed around the house; and my father once knocked out a mean pencil drawing of our teddy bear David dressed in my blue gingham baby romper on a scrap of spare paper.

With such genetic potential, and a smidgen of Mama's crafty ways thrown in for good measure, no one was surprised that Kitty likes drawing and colouring. There's only one hitch with such creativity in a house full of artists, well two hitches to be precise. Firstly, neither Daddy nor Mama try to eat the raw materials (cue chalks and a packet of wax crayons going back into the cupboard), and secondly, well lets just say I haven't yarn bombed the travel cot and H hasn't felt the need to add a touch of colour to the spine of my hardback copy of Great Northern.

Father Christmas came up trumps on the edible art materials front, with a little box of Stockmar beeswax crayons. They are really lovely crayons, smooth and easy to make a mark with the gentlest of pressure, you don't need to force the colour onto the page, they smell nice, and if she eats them I'm pretty relaxed about a combination of natural colours and beeswax. Her little box has 8 colours, but I think we may be adding to them in the future.

I think the crayons were her favourite present until Christmas afternoon when we unwrapped a big shiny parcel from Grannie and Grandpa:

Can you tell what it is yet?

When we were little we had magic paper painting pads; you brushed them with water and a picture appeared in a pastel rainbow. That was then, this is now. Magic paper, meet your future self, an Aquadoodle.

(please also note the effect of roast potatoes and sticky toffee pudding as hair styling product!)

Kitty loves it, and we've found it curiously addictive - even after she'd gone to bed

San Salute from the Accademia Bridge

Thank you Grannie and Grandpa - we all love it!

Merry and Bright

2011-12-26T23:34:00.001Z

The days leading up to Christmas are not exactly stressful, because I adore this time of year, but full of busyness, making sure that all the jobs are done and all the loose ends come together at the right time and in the right order so that Christmas Day (and the following 12) are calm and restful. With help from H, who crucially managed to find somewhere else in the house on which to balance the partially completed jigsaw that has been dogging our dinner times for the last few months, freeing up that end of the table to be loaded with roasted edibles, we had a wonderful Christmas, and today we spent the day curled up like well fed house cats with a saucer of cream; warm and cozy from head to toe.

Kitty mastered the art of unwrapping presents fairly quickly, demonstrating a determined insistence for removing every last scrap of paper and throwing it over her shoulder before turning her attention to the goodies inside. As is only fitting for our only daughter she has been spoiled rotten at every turn, and a happier little girl you'd be hard to find.

(unwrapping and playing with her present from Auntie Zee and Uncle D)

My highlight of the day was watching her unwrap her Mama-made quilt (pictures to follow if it ever stops raining); she took all the paper off, hugged it, spread it out around her, lay on her back, kicked her feet and giggled, and then wrapped herself up in it. Clearly someone (Daddy?) has been teaching her the proper way to respond to handmade (it's also a cute quilt if I say so myself).

I'll be doing some more detailed posts on some of the Christmas crafting over the next few days but for today I leave you with some snippets of our day:

Scrambled eggs for breakfast

reading That's Not My Snowman with Daddy (and yes, in the background is a metre of Jaffa Cakes, from Kitty to Daddy)

Talking to Grannie and Grandpa in Devon

It's for you! - chatting to Gran and Grandad in Yorkshire.

A trip to the playground in between rain showers this afternoon.

Merry Christmas

2011-12-24T22:31:00.000Z

It's Christmas Eve. The veggies are peeled, the chicken is prepped and stuffed according to my Great-Grandmother's recipes, a pile of red and white parcels are smothering the Christmas tree skirt, and Kitty is asleep in her cot, dreaming of mince pies and shiny things.

This morning I made two dozen mince pies (not all of which remain), cleaned and tidied the house (a somewhat pointless task with a toddler on the loose, but worth doing for the honour nonetheless), and corralled and folded the laundry from its various drying points around the house.

Our Sunday club put on a brilliant nativity for the Christmas Eve Crib Service, and Kitty reprised her role as 'smallest star', perched up on Daddy's knee on the steps at the back of church for the best view, giggling and clapping her way through the production, and then this evening, lovely friends came to visit, bringing a most interesting and excitingly large box for Kit (unconfirmed reports suggest that even the generous benefactor's seriously grown up sons were intrigued by the size of said box). Kitty hugged it, and then started to work out that wrapping paper is supposed to come off so it's been tucked away until the morning.

Tomorrow I'm looking forward to time with our wonderful church family and a day spent in the company of my little family of three, watching Kit drink in all the sparkle and the wonder.

For the very first time I haven't finished the Christmas knitting; Kitty's jumper is minus a sleeve and a half and the shoulders to neck section. A serious assessment at 11.30 on Friday told me that I could either spend Christmas Eve madly knitting and scrape in under the wire, or spend Christmas Eve getting ready for Christmas, and just enjoying my family. Given the option between helping Kitty make shiny ornaments (with a kit from the front of her Waybaloo magazine), curling up to read the Gruffalo (again), and cooking with H while Kitty napped, or knitting frantically, the yarn didn't stand a chance.

For one, Kitty isn't going to turn round to me when she's all grown up and accuse me of ruining Christmas because her jumper was a couple of days late, but she will remember that Mama and Daddy used to read her stories and sing carols and |Christmas songs, and that we all plomped down on the floor to make the most noise with her rattles and shakers, and for another, I really like the yarn, I really like the pattern and I don't want to rush through the knitting and loose that pleasure, or tinge a jumper with the frustration of deadline knitting.

So my plan for the rest of this evening is a nice long bath and a quiet night with half an ear open for sleigh bells.

H, Kitty and I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, and we'll be back in time to wish you a Happy New Year.

May the joy of the angels,
the eagerness of the shepherds,
the perseverance of the wise men,
the obedience of Joseph and Mary,
and the peace of the Christ child
be yours this Christmas

Dress Rehearsal

2011-12-19T23:42:00.005Z

The nursery Christmas extravaganza opens to previews tomorrow, with the command performance on Thursday when H and I are going to see our super special snowflake be a star.

Her costume is finished, and I'm pretty pleased with it. I'll take some proper pictures on Thursday, but here's a sneak peak.

I popped her into her ensemble this evening and let her run around for a bit to test drive it and to see if anything fell off. There are limits to what interfacing and felt can achieve so I had to add a safety pin to keep the point of the star upright, but other than that it seems to work well.

The only possible drawback, and I really should have foreseen this one given how much she enjoyed playing with the raw materials, is that she does have a bit of a fascination with the skirt ...

and may well spend most of her time in the spotlight with her head in at least one layer of gauzy skirt.

So Kitty, is it fit for purpose? Let's see (cue music):

Twinkle, twinkle, little star

How I wonder what you are.

Up above the world so high,

Like a dia....hang on a minute Mama

diamond?

diamond! in the sky.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,

How I wonder what you are.

(exit stage left)

She's going to bring the house down.

Twinkle twinkle little star

2011-12-17T23:47:00.000Z

We have a star in the making. The babies group at Kitty's nursery are performing the crucial role of stars in the nursery nativity plays, which from all I've gleaned from her favourite carer involves trying not to crawl into the audience to find Mummy/Daddy/toast, and doing the actions to twinkle twinkle.

We've been practising the twinkling today during both of her bath times (morning and lunchtime, the latter to remove sausage from her hair, and the former because occasionally babies just need a bath), and this afternoon I set about her costume.

I've made a little pale gold layered tulle skirt for her to wear with a cream t-shirt and white tights from a metre or so of fabric, and I'm planning for her to have a big star that she wears sort of like a backpack, with elastic loops to keep it on her arms.

Kit tried to help me draw a star, but as that mostly involved trying to chew the ruler while sitting on the felt, we didn't get very far, and most of my progress has been made after she went to bed.

I've laid out the radial lines in water soluble marker and I'm slowly filling them in with sequins and beads and all sorts of sparkle liberated from the bottom of my embroidery bag.

I'm still deliberating over whether I want to fill in the gaps with swirling embroidery, and it might be a moot point because this needs to be finished for Tuesday morning - what do you think? No embroidery, gold embroidery or sparkly white/silver?

"Tomorrow shall be my darning day" or "Avoiding the Christmas Knitting Part 3"

2011-12-15T09:59:00.003Z

I said it, I said that I was surprised that my MIL didn't wear out her socks more often given that she wears them daily. The Knitting Muses, curled up in their cosy stash-lined eyrie in the Great White North (not Mount Olympus - too hot), put down their needles, untangled the yarn from around their ankles and stretching out a lanquid arm, twisted a finger through the wind and rain to snag a tiny hole in each heel of yet another pair of lovingly knitted socks. I think they must have something against Colinette Jitterbug - it's always the Jitterbug socks that come back for mending.

But with fairy godmother-esque timing, the Fates smoothed out the winds, and gently shooed the clouds away so that my darning day dawned sunny and bright, and I had time to take a few photos and put together a tutorial of sorts to mend a short row heel.

So, step one: Have a good look at your heels. If the yarn has broken, it's likely that some stitches will have dropped back down, and it will all look a bit of a mess.

Top tip - If you see the yarn wearing thin, darn it with duplicate stitch before you get a hole - it's so much easier (and if I took my own advice I wouldn't have a pair of beloved handspun socks with holes under the ball of the foot)

You are looking to find a round of nice plump stitches, one or two rows before the longest of the short rows. If you want you can go to the last rows of the pattern, but I think it's a little easier to work with a buffer zone. If you need to ladder some stitches back up to make this round complete then that's fine as long as the yarn you are using is still in decent nick.

Step 2: take a couple of DPNs a size or two smaller than the ones you used to knit the project and slide one under the right hand leg of each stitch on your chosen round. Spread these stitches over two needles, turn your sock over and repeat for the other side of the round. Your sock should look like this:

Step 3: time to rip! First, work out which side of the heel was the last that you knit, ie. if you were working top down it would be the side on the bottom of your foot, for toe up it's the back of the heel. Snip a thread in the row above the row you have on your needles and tease out the ends. You should be able to simple pull the knitting back now although occasionally there will be tangles where things have felted together and when you get to the holes you might have to do a bit of jiggery pokery to find the right end to pull.

At then end, you should have something a bit like this:

with two ends coming from the sock and a little pile of squiggly yarn. You can see my two ends at either end of the base of the triangle of needles.

Step 4: Count your stitches. I frequently end up with one or two fewer on one side than the other. If you're the same, pick up loops at the corners until it works, this is darning not restoration of a priceless treasured antique. At the same time, arrange one half of the heel stitches over two needles and the rest on one if you like to knit using 4 DPNs or two if you prefer 5.

Step 5: Double check that the heel you are about to knit is going to line up nicely with the existing toe.

Step 6: Using the new yarn, and starting at the middle of the two needle side, knit 1 round. As you go around the corners, check that the stitches you are making are nice and neat; knit through the back loop if you need to close anything up.

Step 7: Knit your favourite toe. Mine is as follows:

Round 1: Knit to 3 stitches before the end of needle, k2tog, k1; k1, ssk, k to 3 stitches before the end of needle, k2tog, k1; k1 ssk, knit to end.
Round 2: Knit

Repeat these two rounds until 24 stitches remain at the end of a round 1; knit to end of needle 1 and graft shut.

Step 8: Gather up your courage, maybe award yourself a square of chocolate and a gold star, and repeat with the other sock.

And there we have it:

Two Hopscotch socks returned to circulation with wildly contrasting crazy heels.

And if all else fails, Mandy's failsafe is just to needlefelt the holes closed!

PS - I've decorated for Christmas - do you like it or is it taking too long to load?

Casting on

2011-12-12T19:55:00.000Z

There's something special about a newly cast on project, that first row on the needles all soft and nubbly, perfect stitches in crisp new yarn, before it's been scrumpled up into a knitting bag, ripped back and reknit a few times, or some over enthusiastic patting from tiny hands has impregnated it with apple pudding and glitter.

It's like the first page in a new crisp notebook, when you're still fussy about making sure you use the blue ink pen, and underline the date, and write in your neatest, prettiest handwriting. By the end of the book it's a scrawl in whatever comes to hand, but that moment of cracking open the cover inspires the very best intentions. This is the project that won't have any mistakes in it, that won't need to be undone to fix the after effects of knitting on too late into the night, and that will be perfect in every way for its intended wearer and garner a gazillion complements.

The yarn is wound, and I have 13 days until Christmas and four and a half projects to finish. It's time to done the blinkers and knuckle down with some cheesy Christmas films, trying not to think too much about whether it's sensible to start a jumper in 4ply a fortnight before it needs to be finished. Fortunately, (a) it's for Kitty who despite serious efforts in the growing department is still relatively tiny and (b) the yarn, Sparkle Duck Galaxy is delicious. It's all systems go.

Getting ready for Christmas

2011-12-11T13:01:00.001Z

In the corner of the lounge is a plump, round, green little tree, dressed from head to toe in lights, baubles, snowmen, stars and a whole heap of felt ornaments along the bottom layer. We went back and forth this year on the pros and cons of a real tree, knowing that this year of all years, anything tall green and sparkly in the lounge is going to be a magnet for a one year old, but in the end it wouldn't be Christmas without the fresh smell of pine needles toasted by snowman fairy lights, and so we have a little Nordmann fir, set up on the coffee table so that the lowest branches brush Kitty's head (or at least they did when we set it up, before she started yanking on them).

The precious baubles, the ones from our holidays, from the first Christmas we were married, and the first in Kitty's collection, with tiny 12 week old hand and foot prints are all up at the top, safely out of view and out of reach.

Our newest bauble is right up there too, a Murano glass extravaganza, lovingly nursed back from Venice in multiple layers of bubble wrap:

We choose it together on the last rain-drenched day, in a wee little shop tucked down one of the tiny streets of the Dorsoduro; trying not to drip on the entire stock while Kitty snoozed in the sling. I'm glad to say it fits in beautifully with out ramshackle collection of treasures.

And we've added one to Kitty's collection too. I want each year's ornament to reflect the things that she loved at that time so this year when we pottered around the Christmas shop in Stratford, there was one that jumped out straight away:

A little swinging elf, for a little girl who loves to swing.

December has hit double figures, we've got four strings of fairy lights in the lounge alone, I've turned this:

into this:

(and eaten the resulting mince pies before I remembered to photograph them), the cards are sat on the dining room table waiting to be written, and finally there's a wintry nip in the air. Christmas is coming and we're getting ready.

Deviation from the Christmas Knitting: Part 2

2011-12-08T23:45:00.001Z

It seems there's no hope for me. Facing down the ever decreasing hours until Christmas, and a mental list of projects yet to be finished (or in a couple of cases, started), I've done the only thing possible; knit something else.

The windy wet and wild has not detoured around Warwickshire and I've spent today in the company of much of the country; staring out into dirty skies through splattered raindrops and longing for a roaring fire to chase the shadows away.

And in between preventing Kit from removing all ornaments within her grasp from our Christmas tree, and 'helping' her with her Truth in the Tinsel ornament, I knit a little hot magic, to keep her toasty warm from the storms.

A pair of mittens, to replace (and be the next size up) from her Port and Starboard mittens (of which only Starboard seems to remain), knit from Tequila Sunrise handspun.

My pattern, such as it was, was 32 stitches on 3.5mm needles in a 2x2 rib for 25 rounds, then 17 rounds on 4mm needles and then 4 stacked decreases every round (ie (k6 k2tog) for the first round, then (k5 k2tog) for the second, (k4 k2tog) for the third etc) until only 4 stitches remained. Pull the yarn through and darn in the ends and you have warm snuggly crazy sparkly little baby mittens.

She'll be the envy of the nursery garden and I got to play with sunny fibre to lighten the darkness; it's a win all round.

A hat

2011-12-02T22:12:00.001Z

If there is anything so guaranteed to restore a little balance and sanity, it's the feel of woolly yarn flowing through my fingers and a nice simple project with lots of plain knitting to rest the brain.

In a recent quest for a little soothing, my fingers brushed up against something irresistably soft, a wool/angora 2ply aran-weight handspun that I made years ago and tucked away to think about what I could do with it.

After four attempts at casting on top down with increasingly odd increases, I caved and cast on the brim and knit a hat.

There's no real pattern, I started with 80 sts on 4mm needles, knit ribbing for a little while, then stocking stitch until it felt like time for five decreases on every other round until 10 stitches remained and that was that. With five inches of yarn left over.

It seems there's a lot to be said for ignoring the Christmas knitting for a little knitting for the soul - and I have a hat.

Sunshine on a Thursday

2011-12-01T22:43:00.001Z

This is the backing to the quilt; in person it's a gorgeous golden amber that chases the grey clouds from every corner of the room. And with the change in the weather and a couple of nights where my intervals of sleep eked past the hour mark, and the intervals of awake were a little shorter, the sleep deprivation irascible haze has lifted slightly, and I no longer consider my sewing machine as a malevolent and sentient being, representing everything going wrong and responsible for all events from the economic bust to a sudden squally shower soaking the laundry.

Also, it started to work a bit better post fluff removal.

Yesterday morning we ran an errand for more thread, and in nap times and evenings I've sewn my little geometric pattern, up down and around, all over the quilt until tonight it was finished. The quilt now rests over the edge of our travel cot come playpen, edges neatly clipped, waiting for the binding to be sewn down as if butter wouldn't melt in its mouth. Truth be told I think it is a lovely quilt (watch out for pictures after Christmas), and despite the tantrum angst, there is love and hope and prayers for the future owner(s) all sewn up in it, and I will think of him/her/them as I sew on the binding; wishing them peace, comfort and warmth in its sunny embrace.

Today I have not ...

2011-11-30T22:44:00.001Z

1. Re-started a top down hat 4 times before giving up and starting from the brim.

2. Started to machine quilt a bed sized quilt only to discover that I haven't got anywhere near enough thread.

3. Got frustrated with my sewing machine (and my ability to manipulate and use it) when the tension won't set correctly.

4. Had a tantrum at my sewing machine because the tension still isn't right even though I've got the settings how they should be.

5. Hidden under my duvet and sulked.

6. Told H that he could throw my sewing machine out of the window. (He asked what he could do to help).

7. Held the screws to the footplate, while H took my machine apart and delicately removed a veritable pillow of fluff from its innards.

8. Sewn sample after sample to check that the newly set tension was going to quilt nicely.

9. Rescued the quilt in question from behind the sofa where it had been flung in a mixture of disgust at its (my) failings and denial of its existence.

10. Run out of thread.

.... I give no such assurances as to yesterday.

Unprompted and Unaided

2011-11-26T21:34:00.001Z

The biggest worry of any parent who sends their child to nursery, even for the tiniest little while, has to be that they'll miss something important, some milestone that we'd want to have the first hand memory to recount to them when they're eighteen and think it's all very corny that you remember, and again when they're thirty-something, and know for themselves why it matters so much.

Kitty spends three days a week at a wonderful small nursery who love and cherish her only slightly less than we do, and have to my delight introduced her to glitter as a painting medium, and the actions to all the variations of Row row row the boat. Working off the premise that I have to work, and despite my colleagues' assurances that they'd help keep her hidden under my desk Brittas Empire-style, she has to spend her days somewhere slightly more baby friendly than an office full of paper and bookcases, I couldn't be happier. But as the pulling up turned to cruising, and the cruising turned into the occasional standing, I worried that I would miss out; that I wouldn't be there for her first steps.

Over the last week or so, she's worked on mastering a step-stumble-dive between H and me, and a little waddly walk holding onto one or two of Mama's fingers but for the rest of the time her high speed wiggle crawl and the cruising seemed to get her where she wanted to go.

That was then. This evening, deciding that she'd had enough cuddles for the time being, she wiggled herself safely down from H's lap and the sofa, and stood, one hand on the cushions, the other stretched out in front of her. And as the Strictly band bounced through the Charleston, she let go and stood there for a moment, bobbing her head and swishing her hands from side to side (think 'the wipers on the bus') before confidently striking out across the floor to reach me.

It may only have been three or four steps before she realised what she was doing and plomped to the floor to have a little think about it, but it counts.

Today, 26 November 2011, aged 14 months and five days, unpromted and unaided, our Kitty took her first steps.

Grey

2011-11-20T22:04:00.001Z

Last November was bitterly ice-white; frozen, windy and cold. This year I haven't even needed a coat yet. The only signs of the march of the seasons are the shortening days, denuded foliage, and berries glistening on a damply dripping holly tree.

Today the fog wrapped us in a thick blanket of dank grey, smothering any plans for a day outdoors. In truth, our only intentions were along the hibernation lines; a good roast lunch followed by chocohotpots for pudding, and a lazy afternoon with the very best company.

We've chatted, read stories to Kitty, chased her up and down her caterpillar tunnel, and sung tickling songs until she giggled for joy.

She discovered that godfathers give some of the best cuddles:

And if Mama isn't available to provide her hair as a comforter, other people's will do just as well.

So much of my crafting is in hiding now, and I keep being distracted by a most exasperating jigsaw puzzle of a Renoir painting that H started and I'm trying to finish in a vague attempt to reclaim the dining room table, but this evening I finished a book, and I knit a little:

More grey, I know. The project is not yet fit for consumption but the book was excellent (and being a Persephone imprint, also wonderfully tactile).

Just don't let me forget to plant the tulips because I didn't realise it was winter yet!

Thursday in pictures

2011-11-17T23:11:00.001Z

Baking for a Children in Need cake sale tomorrow (hence Pudsey cupcake cases). In order of appearance:

Banoffee Cupcakes from Gorgeous Cakes
Chocolate Cherry Cupcakes from Domestic Goddess
Carrot Cupcakes from Domestic Goddess
Passion Cake (banana, pineapple and pecan nuts in a cinnamon and ginger spice cake) from Gorgeous Cakes

For our tomorrow, you gave your today

2011-11-13T21:22:00.001Z

The Poppy Appeal

My creative space

2011-11-12T21:46:00.001Z

For the most part, I don't mind my craft space being a bit messy. I try to keep the rest of the house reasonably clean and tidy, although I'm never going to be winning prizes for minimalism, but my little room upstairs can fill up with lots of little projects in the making, things that I've pulled out for ideas that are still floating around my mind, and things that I've moved out of other rooms to make them look tidier without really having anywhere to put them.

I reached the tipping point last week and since then I've spent odd moments and scraps of evenings culling and rearranging and I think all I need now is a whizz over the floor with the hoover and I'm done. The desk is clear and polished, my pens and scissors are lined up in the letter rack and I corralled all of my reels of thread from box, drawer and floor, into my pretty blue and white papier mache bowl to sit on the windowsill.

My fabric is in one cupboard, the yarn in another double cupboard, and my books and magazines are stacked and stashed on the shelves. I even cleaned the windows in time to see the moon the colour of clotted cream rising through the clouds and the trees like the start of every cheesy horror film.

So now there are no excuses, nothing left to use to procrastinate. I have space, materials, and occasionally time, it's time to see if I can turn some of my crazy ideas into reality.

Remembering

2011-11-11T07:00:00.000Z

In a little red box at my Uncle's house is a small bronze oak leaf. It is the decoration awarded for a Mention in Dispatches and it belonged to my grandmother.

Long before she became my Grandma Frank, a 20 year old Kathleen Douglas joined the WAAF and was sent to RAF Driffield not far from the coast of East Yorkshire. I don't know whether she was there on the calm and sunny Thursday in August 1940 when 50 Junkers Ju88 swooped in across the sea to pepper the aerodrome with 169 bombs, flattening all five hangers, a good number of ancillary buildings, and 12 Whitley bombers, but even the aftermath must have made an impression.

Kay worked as a mapping clerk, preparing the route maps for the bomber crews of 405 Squadron Royal Canadian Air Force. Sat here in a nice warm house on a damp November day, I can't imagine how it felt to prepare maps night after night, not knowing whether the map, or the men it belonged to would be bringing it back. Airmen flew out and never returned, including a Canadian that she'd taken a shine to, and a crew that crashed unsuccessfully on the runway. Noticing the maps that weren't there to be cleaned up for the next night can only have been heartbreakingly sad.

Later in the war she was transferred to RAF headquarters at High Wycombe for the remainder of her service. Quite where she was based or what she was doing when she was Mentioned has been lost to the mists of time, we know simply that it was for her exemplary work.

There is a happy ending to Kay's story. At RAF Driffield she had met the base dentist, my very patient grandfather. They were quarantined together when some sort of lurgy hit their airfield, and rumour has it he proposed while they made glitter wax flowers together to pass the time. They married during the war and my uncle was born in early 1945 followed by twin girls:

(one of whom is my mum), and another brother and sister over the course of the next 10 years.

(Grandma with Uncle I, Auntie J and Grandfather at a family wedding in the late 50's)

She died in 1984 when I was still rather small and so my memories are mostly that she had blue flowery curtains. We share our middle name, Mary, and perhaps a love of craft - glitter wax flowers anyone? But looking at photographs of Grandma, I know where I've seen her before; in posture and expression, she's my mother to a tee.

(Grandma, Auntie J, Uncle M, Auntie P, and Grandfather)

My generation will probably be the last to personally known family who saw active service in even the Second World War, and there are no longer any Veterans of WW1. This year there seem to be fewer poppies, and fewer people out collecting for the poppy appeal. Without those first hand experiences, the majority of us choose to remember, it isn't an inherent part of who we are. But that in my mind makes it even more important that we do remember, and not just two World Wars' worth.

So this morning at 11, I'll be stopping to remember and be thankful.

Elephant Pie

2011-11-09T00:20:00.001Z

My oh so cunning plan to cook my way through our cook books has had a side effect. I've started borrowing more cookbooks from the library, and in doing so, discovered a few more must haves. I'm still searching most passing charity shops for the now out of print River Cottage Family Cookbook, but my latest acquisition is more recent (a result of a catalogue search for cooking sorted by new releases), and was half price in Smiths.

I never got into The Great British Bake Off on telly; it seemed a little too X-factor, a little less Masterchef, but the book, ah, the book!

I genuinely could start at one end and work my way to the other, at which point we would be somewhat larger than we originally started and probably craving a strict diet of celery sticks and raw broccoli. I'm going to have to eek it out over a few years.

I made a cake (and wrote about it here), and tonight, I made the recipe that convinced us that we needed to own the book, Somerset Pork and Apple Pie.

I say make, I should really say finish, for this is not a quick and easy supper sort of a recipe. The pastry had four separate rollings out with fridge and resting times in between, and the filling stewed gently in the oven for two hours late yesterday afternoon (and set in motion the quirk in our oven that trips the fuses, plunging Kitty and I into darkness at that somewhat trying time of after snack but before tea. She was not impressed when Mama abandoned her in her travel cot playpen to furret in the study cupboard for the fuse box).

This evening, I simply poured the filling into the pie dish, rolled the pastry out to cover it, cut out small baby elephants with the leftovers, and baked it. If anything it tasted even nicer than last time thanks to the extra resting.

Lest you fear that the current swing of blog posts towards the strictly culinary is a hallmark of things to come, be not afraid, it's not. It's simply the hallmark of two things happening in my crafty life.

One: my sewing room/studio, which is frequently used as a general dumping ground for things that for one reason or another do not yet have a permanent home, had become rather less 'overflowing with inspiration' and rather more 'overwhelming with overflow'. I've spent two evenings tidying and I'm 3/4 of the way through. It's starting to feel bigger though which is always a good thing, particularly as I need the floor space to do some blocking.

Two: I've knit ____ for ______ and finished ______ for _______. I've just cast on ______ but had to rip back because the yarn was overwhelming the pattern. Yes, it's that time again. Come back in the New Year for a whole barrow load of finished knitting. I hope.

Even brighter than the moon

2011-11-05T23:45:00.002Z

I once said that if Kitty came home from nursery with glue on her knees and smear of glitter across her cheek, I'd be a happy Mama. Yesterday she came home with a day report that said how much she'd enjoyed making a mess with glitter, and this firework.

It's been well coated with the glitter, which seems to be her current form of artistic expression; her Halloween spider on the baby-room mobile was the one with one side solidly armoured in silver glitter, and her firework sparkles from every angle.

We didn't take her to any displays this year, but we've seen a good part of a number of village displays from the upstairs windows. Last night when I was putting her to bed the windows reverberated from the shock waves coming down the hill from the explosions up above the sports fields, and tonight a smaller scale display from some near neighbours had multicoloured bubbles of light dancing down the walls.

My concession towards Bonfire Night was two packets of giant sparklers; the first we lit before supper for Kitty to enjoy/hide from, and before we got the second set lit we got out the camera.

(the middle one is flowers).

To take them, I set the camera up on an 8" shutter at F5 and ISO 100 on a tripod pointing at the darkest bit of the back garden. For the angel halo shot I set a rear flash (and stayed very still, which is why I look a little frozen). Once we remembered how to make letters going backward we wrote our names (but ran out of space and time to do Kitty's), and I caught one scary shot where the sparkler had run out and I'd come out of the shot before the flash went off leaving a little sparkler writing and the ghost of my face.

My best writing shot however, is more of a statement of intent as to what I'm going to do for the rest of the evening:

Baby Bear's Chair

2011-11-04T20:52:00.000Z

We took Kitty up north for a flying visit to H's parents and the rest of the extended family last weekend.

And there, waiting for her, was a very special present. In de-cluttering their house, friends of my parents in law had handed on a veritable playground of toys for a special granddaughter. Some of them she'll need to grow into, and some will be passed on again, but sat just at the edge of the collection filling the garage floor, was a chair.

A little rocking chair, perfectly Kitty-sized, and just right for our Goldilocks. It was love at first sight. She sat their delightedly and giggled at her Granddad, then tentatively rocked back and forward, clasping the end of each arm with hot little hands.

By the end of the weekend she'd progressed to climbing in and out and lurching back and forward while kneeling up and clinging to the seat back (NB Mama is not too keen on this), and discovered that if she first pushed the chair over towards the coffee table/bookcase/anything removed to a great height by cautious grandparents, it proved a perfect booster to get to all that exciting porcelain contraband.

She's growing like a weed again and a recent growth spurt caught me by surprise when I turned up to nursery to find that the ankle length leggings that I'd carefully packed as reserve clothes in the morning had become pedal pushers in the course of the day.

With that in mind, we brought home the little chair and I'm planning to refurbish the woodwork and paint it white, and re-upholster the seat and chair back, probably with the length of Cath Kidston strawberry print canvas that's been sitting in the stash for a while.

I so want to do this right, but I've never upholstered a chair before, the closest I've ever got was watching an episode of Kirstie's Homemade Home. Please, pretty please, if you know of any good resources, drop me a note in the comments.

Dem bones, dem bones, dem dry bones

2011-10-31T22:31:00.002Z

Kitty says: "Booo!!!"

We got home from a weekend away this afternoon with just enough time to get ready for the enslaught of trick or treaters.

Kitty helped me open the door and waved at everyone who came and helpe me hand out Spider cakes (not made with actual spiders) and some twisted guts flumps.

My Halloween rule is that all the trick and treaters have to tell me a joke and tell me about their costumes before I hand over any goodies. This evening's best:

Why did the cow cross the road? To go to the moo-vies.
Why did the hedgehog cross the road? To see his flatmate.
What do chickens do to relax? Play on the eggs-box.

We've had a good evening and there are even a few cakes left for us. Happy Halloween!

In which we have tea. Finally.

2011-10-29T22:53:00.000Z

A few years pre-Kitty, H went off for a hockey weekend to Canterbury, and my brother in law had some sort of cricketing shindig so Zee and I planned a day of frolics and entertainment in London.

We were to go to an exhibition at Kensington Palace, take a trip to Liberty's, stock up on Persephone Books and have a good afternoon tea before going to see Calendar Girls at the theatre in the evening. All was planned, the tickets were booked and nothing could stop us. Except the noro virus (sadly not related to yarn).

I was struck down half way through the week and spent the rest of it in bed, desperately trying to recover in time for the Saturday and we made it to just about everything, except for the tea. Rather than scoffing delicacies in a warm cafe, we detoured to Russell Square and I snoozed while Zee read her new books. I promised her then that one day we would go back to Theobalds Road for tea, and on Thursday I kept that promise.

We started the day with a stroll down Marylebone High Street, window shopping Rachel Riley and the cake shops until we reached the very wonderful and delectable:

VV Rouleaux - ribbons, pompom trim in every colour under the rainbow, and glittery feather butterflies. I love the voluptuous sample bows all over the shop and it generally takes all of my will power to come away without a length of everything.

Kitty fell asleep in her buggy as we arrived outside Liberty's stunning autumn flower displays, so we gently coasted around the Christmas shop and then Zee settled down to browse the craft books with a snoozing Kitty by her side and I wandered around looking at yarn, and fabric, and all the lovely little haberdashery things like Liberty print bias binding, flowery letter shapes, and lavender bags. Liberty's is food for my soul; I just drink it all in.

We had lunch in Kingly Court, just off Carnaby Street, sat out in the courtyard under the amazing upside down covers that drain all the rain down their centres and into the flower beds.

We shopped, we navigated by the maps on the Boris Bikes stands in the pouring rain, and eventually we reached our mecca.

Bea's of Bloomsbury's (at 44 Theobald's Road, Bloomsbury). First recommended on Yarnstorm and tucked away in my brain, from the outside it doesn't look like much, a small unassuming cafe with a couple of tables out on a busy road, it was worth the wait. We settled in to a table next to the counter, and parked the buggy up next to the window, to match their Halloween decorations.

We ordered a Sweet Tea apiece, Zee chose her Earl Grey and I had a St Clement's juice and then this arrived:

Scones with cream and jam (and yes small sister your heritage requires cream then jam, regardless of whatever unusual customs you may have acquired through marriage), meringues with a mango sauce, hazelnut madelines, mini chocolate brownies and blondies, chocolate marshmallows (they're the triangles on the top layer and they were incredible) and cupcakes; red velvet with creamy frosting and raspberry and vanilla.

Well after all of that, we couldn't just leave without taking a little something home for the boys as a treat from Kitty; cupcakes for Uncle D and a two inch thick slab of millionaire's shortbread and a rich moist chocolate Guinness cake.

It's just around the corner from Persephone, it has cake and comfy chairs - I think it may just be a slice of perfection.

Darn, darn, darn, darn

2011-10-24T21:04:00.001Z

It is a sad fact of life that no matter how treasured, how handwashed only in the nicest wool wash, or how tucked up in a drawer next to a lavender bag and a cedar wood block, eventually a hand knit sock will wear a little hole.

Actually, if you only ever did the last then it probably wouldn't wear out but I also wouldn't knit any more socks for you.

H's Mum could not be accused of such wanton disregard of the glory of fluffy knitted socks, and dons a pair every evening after her bath. The surprise is not that the socks need repair, but that more socks haven't needed darning earlier.

I've mended at least one pair before, and she has the good fortune to wear out the heel flap rather than the ball of the foot which is always the first place to go on my socks, hers are infinitely more repairable (mine get binned).

The blue socks were knitted with a short row heel so to mend them I picked up the heel half of the last round before the short rows above and below the heel, then unravelled the remnants of the heel back to those stitches giving me a 'round' of 60 stitches.

From then on it was simple, I knit a round, and then a toe. It's exactly the same as an afterthought heel.

The green and yellow monkeys had the traditional heel flap so I picked up the bottom of the heel flap, re-kit the short rows and then grafted them to the bottom of the foot. That's the crib notes version anyway, there's a more detailed explanation and some photos here.

A few spare moments and a little Downton Abbey and we have four socks, not exactly as good as new, but with a new lease of life.

In which we are cold but happy

2011-10-22T21:36:00.001Z

It seems an unusual affliction, particularly for a self-professed process knitter, but truth be told, I like to finish things. I often have several projects and several crafts on the go at once, but nothing ever sits around for too long.

However, when I put the blinkers on to work for Christmas presents, a new baby's layette, or, plucking an example from thin air, decide to knit seven elephants in not quite as many weeks, whatever was on the needles at the time gets plunged to the bottom of the knitting basket, only to see the light of day when the piles of baby cashmerino have been herded away.

And so, as I rounded the corner on the cast off of Kitty's little dress, I faced a dilemma. Way back in August in those halcyon summer days, I'd excavated the stash for some very special yarn, and cast on a nice pretty little top. At the time of the commencement of what I'm sure will in time come to be known as 'the great elephant delivery of 2011' I'd got about half way up the back.

Fast forward two months (and a bit). It's cold, I'm wearing socks, and a scarf, and on Friday I wore mittens while waiting for a train on our very windy platform. Do I finish what I've started, or put it away for more clement times? Linen mix sleeveless top in October? Why that would be perfect!

Let me introduce you to Flow:

The pattern is from Norah Gaughan volume 2, knit in Berroco Seduce; a slubby mix of rayon, silk, linen and nylon spun as a wrapped cord. It makes a crunchy but flippy fabric that swishes and swirls.

In essence it is a flared stocking stitch sleeveless top, with reverse stocking stitch at the neck and shoulders. But that doesn't do it justice, that's just words, the poetry is in the way that the fabric drapes, clings and curves. While the heat today was only in my imagination (positive mental attitude being key if you're going to go out in the frost with no sleeves), when the damp and steamy thick heat of an English summer returns, this will be perfect with a long skirt, flip flops and perhaps a little shawl.

The colour is Verdigris; it's reminiscent of Oxford college domes, weather vanes, and leaky water pipes.

I bought the yarn many moons ago on my last trip to Florida when my shape was not quite what it is today. I think I meant to knit the size 34 but bought an extra skein to add some length so I had seven to play with.

Having read all the notes on Ravelry about even the most petite knitter needing to add a little length, I cast on for the size 38 with more hope than expectation, and added a whopping four inches to front and back before the armhole shaping (yes, that's four as in 4), fully anticipating needing to acquire an extra skein or some leftovers from someone. But for now the knitting muses are with me, and whilst I wouldn't say I have oodles left over, I had plenty to sew the seams and knit the borders without ever once having to knit faster so that I finished before the yarn ran out.

So do I count it a success?

Well I'm either thrilled with it, or absolutely and completely freezing and desperate to get back into the nice warm house because we are taking pictures really rather early in the morning as H has to get to a hockey match. Perhaps it's both?

The here and now

2011-10-20T20:24:00.000Z

There is a moment that comes on the best of days. Towards the end of the day, but before H arrives home from whichever far flung extreme of the Midlands he's been travelling to. The chores are done, or at least I've made my peace with the ones that aren't going to get done, and the house is at rest.

We used to spend the time in the garden, cloud gazing and reading stories but the squally showers that swept though this week, and the rose bramble making insistent and repeated requests to enter through the window make it clear that those days are gone for now.

So we sing, we make funny noises with cardboard tubes and many shaky rattley noisy toys, we play tents, and we snuggle together to read a story, before Kitty takes on the most important task of her day; emptying the bookcase (again).

It isn't a saccarine-soaked picture of rosy-cheeked perfection, straight from a Mabel Lucie Attwell drawing; sooner or later there will be a nappy to be changed, a little hand will stretch for some out of reach contraband, and given Madam's predilection for Mummy's big books, something heavy will often be carelessly discarded on my toes. But it is my present and my memories, and to me it is perfect.

An excuse for cake

2011-10-17T21:16:00.001Z

It's National Baking Week! Once I'd established that it was neither a figment of my early morning imagination, nor something that Chris Evans invented, this was clearly something that I was going to embrace wholeheartedly.

Although, if you read the recipes on the website, I'm not entirely sure what the organisers' definition of baking comprises; possibly just turning the oven on at some point in the cooking process. Soup? Pasta? - all baking apparently.

Nonetheless, what more excuse do I need for a cake.

This isn't from the baking website, it's my new favourite book, the Great British Bake Off Recipe book, Apple and Maple traybake.

It's delicious, all damp and appley, with a maple syrup and cream cheese icing.

As you see, it's not going to last long.

My little daughter's dress

2011-10-15T22:01:00.000Z

It's been a bright sunshiney day here today, and what better way to enjoy it than by playing in the garden in a brand new warm woolly winter dress. I'd planned to finish this for Kitty's birthday but as she's just a tad taller than the average bear and it was delayed while I ordered an extra ball of yarn.

But the new ball arrived last week and after a bit of playing around with the length I finished it off and handed it over to Kitty for some thorough product testing. We've found it's good for picking grass...

... and for pushing our walker...

... and for crawling towards the edge of the wall....

... and bending ...

... and stretching.

And when we've finished all of that, for snuggling up in Mama's lap.

The pattern is Little Sister's Dress by Tora Froseth Design. It's a simple, easy knit, and shows off the wonderful colours of a tropical fish Zauberball to their best advantage.

I knit the 18 month size but added a good few inches; to give you an idea of how much, I would have finished in the last section of dark blue and it would have barely covered her bottom.

The buttons came from my button tin (sorry for the lack of focus - little miss wriggles had decided she'd had enough of posing), they're red with little white stars around the edge and a perfect match.

H&M came up trumps again for long sleeved bright coloured baby vests and as well as this red one I found a turquoise that exactly matches the dress. I'm hoping that I've added enough extra length for this to last for a while but if she grows out of it there's a Big Sister Dress pattern that goes up to age 8. It is very possible that she might acquire one in each size as she grows.

We went to the final birthday party of the season this afternoon and then popped into our favourite gallery and she was admired all around. I think there could be a market for a grown up size - just maybe not in 4ply.

Bringing the Sunshine

2011-10-13T07:32:00.000Z

It's said that your crafty motivation is either the process or the product. People who are product driven really love the process otherwise they'd just go and buy a jumper, and people who are process driven really love the product. Mostly. Well, sometimes. When the corners meet nicely or when gauge hasn't turned the planned cardigan into a pair of bizarrely conjoined long johns.

How do you tell? Well, if you're product driven then I can promise you that what follows may baffle you slightly.

When Mollie Makes was launched I was hooked. I mean when the tag line is "Living and Loving Handmade" you know it's going to be good. I'm queuing up the project instructions for knitted and felt food for when Kitty's old enough to want to play tea parties, the adverts caused my credit card to start to quiver in my wallet, and the interviews are full of pretty pictures and good questions. But my one weakness - the cover kits.

I love trying out lots of different crafts; when I lived in London I'd spend a day at the Olympia Knitting and Stitching Show taking class after class (often from the Royal School of Needlework students) on whitework, or satin stitch or beading, and the Mollie Makes cover kits are the same sort of thing in miniature and at home.

Having spent a fair amount of time knitting small elephants recently, and with Christmas still just far enough away to not worry too much, I thought a little indulgent crafty time was in order so I pulled out the kit from issue 4.

A sunshine flowers necklace. The instructions were nice and clear and I had plenty of materials to have made even more flowers but this seemed like the right amount. In the project instructions the necklace ties at the back, but to get as much length as possible I used the whole cord in the necklace. The leaves are two layers of felt sewn together by the yellow running stitch and I buried the ends of the cord between the two layers.

The most difficult part of the whole enterprise was finding a needle big enough to take the cord and be pointy enough to pierce the felt. In the end I used a crewel embroidery needle to make the hole and then enlarged it with my thickest fattest blunt sewing up needle and with a bit of jiggery pokery it all worked out OK.

But will I wear it?

Well I tried it on, and Kitty pulled at it and licked one of the flowers. In fairness, my usual necklace (if anything) is a small gold cross so this was a bit of a difference, and the chances are that I'll never wear it as a proper necklace with a proper outfit. But that isn't really the point. It's sunny and bright, and I smile when I see it, and it matches my tablecloth.

I'm going to hang it on the pinboard in my sewing room for sunshine on the gloomiest of days.

Teatime

2011-10-10T22:07:00.000Z

My Granny's kitchen worktops were bright turquoise crosshatched with pin thin lines of darker blue and they matched the 'swimming pool' lino under your feet. The cupboards were a vivid lemon, the drawers were bright red, and Mum made the bright flowery curtains.

I didn't intentionally make fairy buns to homage the kitchen but it seems only appropriate. My memories of my Granny's kitchen taste of lemon cake. She wasn't the world's most enthusiastic cook but her piece de resistance was a double layer lemon sponge with little flecks of lemon peel in the icing.

These are little lemon sponges with lemon icing and yellow dragees from the stash of 'cake decorations that I'm trying to use up before the best before date'.

Dotted in among the trellis in the tablecloth they look like enormous hot house blooms, perfect to lift the dreary gloom outside.

It's definitely autumn now, the applause from the August encore has died away leaving blustery days and a swirl of fallen leaves behind the rocking chair in the nursery. My munchkin pumpkin is toasting green rind into a deep amber in the front garden veggie bed and we've started to harvest the potatoes. But for now I have cake, and memories of sunshine and fizzy lemonade to lighten the darkness.

Birthday Parade

2011-10-06T21:22:00.000Z

Those of you that might happen to glance past my projects page on Ravelry will not be blind to the fact that for the last couple of months it would appear that I have been on somewhat of a knitting groundhog day. In fact that explains much of why there has been little to no knitting popping up on these pages since early August.

Like most of us, cunning plans and crazy ideas whirl through my mind with gay abandon fairly frequently. Some I discard on the spot, some I shelve for that mysterious and magical future 'when I have time', and some take root, twisting and plying with my mind so that there becomes no doubt that I was every going to do anything different. I've been working on one of those.

Before Kitty was born we went to an NCT antenatal class. You learn a little about birth and labour and looking after your fresh new bundle of squeals and snores, but it is also the place where you meet your first set of soon to be Mummy (and Daddy) friends. We landed on our feet and I have the pleasure to know an amazing group of women, with whom I've shared the crazy and the comedy from our labours, our first weeks as parents and everything since then. And now almost all of our tiny boys and girls are strapping one year olds with clear personalities and wills of their own.

Well I couldn't give them just any old sort of birthday present could I? I found my stash of Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino, my 3mm dpns and my pattern and I cast on:

And on

And on

And on

And on

And on

I finished the seventh yesterday, she (for this one is a girl) is sitting on the arm of the sofa waiting for a party in a couple of weekends' time when she will get to meet little Miss K, but as K's mummy has half an idea what might be coming I don't feel I'm spoiling any surprises.

I know I've put in the hours but I feel some credit has to go to Ysolda for writing a pattern for such a lovely toy that the babies have universally adored, and that I've been happy to knit again and again.

There are currently 2204 Elijah Elephants finished or on the way there around in the world today. Do you think that in the future, archaeologists will look back on us now and wonder what form of deity we worshiped with little knitted elephants? I may be partially responsible for the population boom, and not just with these seven.

You see only Ferdy and Solomon live at home, all of my other elephants have gone to other houses in far flung and slightly nearer corners of the world, except for the Katiephunt of course who is here as a guest, and I rather lost track. So I added them up.

That would be 14 elephants. I think I may have a problem. Please send help, or even better, Baby Cashmerino; it's been 24 hours since I knit on an elephant and I don't quite know what to do.

Decadence and the lady who lunched

2011-10-05T20:30:00.001Z

Yesterday I was a lady of leisure. Kitty was in nursery, H went to work, and I went for a swim. Pure deep cool bliss. I love to swim, having grown up a waterbaby, and I'd missed it. Even with all the crazy up and down racing people, and trying to dodge being splatted by a stray backstroke, it was good.

The reason for this seemingly sybaritic lifestyle (for yes, I abandonned the housework and spent the rest of the morning catching up on Downton Abbey and spinning) was my afternoon treat; Coffee Colour and Cake with Jane Brocket at the Warwick Words Festival.

Now when someone whose work you've admired is giving a talk mere moments from home it really is only proper to give credit to the wonders of the universe/literary festival booking agents, and make the time to attend. So we did.

Jane's talk was entertaining and engaging and her love of creating and the sheer joy she has in plunging into colour shone through. She brought piles of samples from her quilt and knitting books and shared the inspiration behind each one.

My friends, I have, over the years, built up a certain immunity in the presence of beautiful handmade things. I can go to the International Festival of Quilts at the NEC without needing a chaperone for fear that I will empty the family bank account at the feet of a stallholder with fabric galore (actually this year I took Kitty and she kept trying to steal my wallet and crying when I took it off her so perhaps that's not entirely true). I can go to a yarn shop and just buy a pattern. I've even been heard to remark that I just want to enjoy my stash.

All this counted for nothing in the face of Jane's samples. If I felt affection for the ideas when I saw them in the book, it's true love now. I am longing to sew a silk squares quilt; pull together fiery prints with black for Russian wrap quilt; and knit a colour wheel cushion cover. It was a wonderful afternoon polished off with good company and a slice of iced and layered carrot cake.

So I finish with thanks; thank you Jane for travelling all the way to Warwick, for signing my beloved and slightly battered and crumb-strewn copy of The Gentle Art of Domesticity, and for filling my afternoon with laughter, sunshine and glorious colour.

Encore

2011-09-30T22:33:00.004Z

It's hot. A thick wadded eiderdown of heat has been pulled off Europe and up and over Britain and tucked in tightly, no room to move to get the covers off and stick a foot out to cool down.

I'm lucky that my Thursday work is as wife and mama, and Fridays we dress down at the salaried job so I've stayed fairly cool and we've had space and time to enjoy August's encore.

It's so very still. Yesterday it was quiet enough to hear the motorway from the garden, in an stagnant calm punctuated only by the shuddery whirr of washing machines up and down the village gearing up for their final spin.

A gold and yellow heat though, not the scorching white hot of full summer; a day-long sunset heat, a summer-set perhaps. It may be warm but the laundry isn't drying as fast as I expected, and every time I turn around Kitty has added another pale straw leaf to the pile of foliage she's planning to have for snack.

We dressed to match the temperature and found we matched, well just about everything else; the swing, the season and even some newly finished handspun alpaca/merino.

We played hide-peepo with leaves and lay and looked at the big blue sky.

But it's Kitty who took the cooling off efforts to a whole new level. Today her nursery had their water play dish out for the babies. Imagine if you will, a large saucer shape filled with a couple of inches of water, and my little girl, dressed in a pretty blue frock, pink frilly knickers and pink flowery baby shoes. What could possibly go wrong?

Did she splash her nanny? No

Did she drench another baby? No

Did she climb straight over the edge, crawl to the centre and sit there giggling before anyone quite cottonned on to what she was doing? That's my girl! I only wish I had a photo to show you.

As for the handspun, the first half had sat on my wheel for a while, but I picked it up again last week when I needed a little fibery calm in the midst of the run up to Kitty's party, and when H wanted company while he painted. It's an alpaca/merino mix, mostly alpaca I think and it was part of the Socktopus fibre club many moons ago. I spun an aran-weight ish singles and gave it a nice hot bath and a few thwacks before hanging it to dry.

I've got 192 yards from 100g and I've love to make some fingerless mitts with a leafy design because this weather's only forecast until Tuesday and there'll be days when I'll need them all too soon.

A Handmade Birthday

2011-09-26T21:23:00.001Z

We threw a party for Kitty on Saturday and invited grandparents, aunts and uncles, and her baby friends and their parents so we had a house full. Thankfully (for those who remember the elbow to elbow standing room only of her christening party) we had lovely weather and threw open the back doors to allow everyone out into the garden and we all had a wonderful time.

The banner (which had a little tag along banner with her name on it) was made to the pattern in Alicia Paulson's Stitched in Time book and while it was still pinned to the bias binding on her birthday itself, I managed to sew a few seams before the party. The fabric and the fabric paint came from the stash. It's a brilliant pattern and I'm wondering why I didn't make one for us, or one for Christmas sooner. Actually, Christmas would be pretty - hmm, maybe one to add to the ever expanding to do list.

Auntie Zee and Uncle D came up early on Saturday morning and they, with Uncle and Auntie C helped transform our lounge and formed a seriously efficient cupcake assembly line.

We have lemon, vanilla, ginger and almond/blueberry cupcakes, each with a different case and different decorations to tell them apart.

Zee spent a good chunk of the morning painstakingly cutting out the little F's (yes, Kitty begins with an F) and teasing them away from the cutter with a toothpick. I think you'll agree that she did an excellent job.
The leftover cupcakes made their way to church on Sunday morning where they disappeared rapidly so I think they were a hit all round.

And of course, there was the birthday cake (take 2)
This time it was a lemon drizzle cake filled with strawberries and topped off with butterflies. Kitty was a bit nervous of the candles again, but she clung to Daddy as we all blew out her candles and made her a wish.

I think she enjoyed being spoiled rotten by her nearest and dearest and she definitely enjoys her presents. Auntie and Uncle C brought Lotty:
Who can either be a push along or rocking caterpillar. Kit gives her big hugs around Lotty's neck and squeezes her ears for the songs to play.

Grannie and Grandpa gave her what I think may have be the toy of the afternoon - her tunnel. I'd love to show you pictures of any one of the babies playing in it but it never seemed to have fewer than two babies in it at any one time and it was always moving. They're all so speedy now that when I reached for my camera with Kitty climbing in the top end, this is all I got from the bottom end.
Two little Fs together.
As I'm sure you guessed by my radio silence, the last few weeks have been full of present making. I'm now 5/7 of the way through the other babies' presents, and I had time after finishing one and before starting the next to make presents for my lovely little girl.

First up:

Her sleepy time dolly (currently unnamed) made from the Whip Up pattern here
together with a little mini quilt made with leftover strawberry fabric to my own invented pattern.
The dolly is lovely, and the pattern is pretty easy to follow, although despite a gazillion attempts I couldn't figure out how to make her bunches point downwards so she has perky pigtails, but I think they're cute. The one change in construction that I made was to use a smidge of steam-a-seam to attach the collar and the arms just so that they didn't shift around so much while I was sewing down the edges - worked like a charm.
For the quilt I made the top, cut batting and the backing to match and then layered them as the two fabric sides face together and the batting on the bottom. I stitched around the edge with a walking foot leaving about a 5 inch gap, pinked the edges and flipped it the right way around. The only quilting is a line around the edge, and a little label to finish it off. I think I need some new labels really - or is it too twee to have 'Handmade by Mummy'?
I had started a jumper but the pattern just wasn't working so I pulled it all out and started a stripy dress. As even I can't knit a whole ball of sock yarn in about 3 hours knitting time, it wasn't much of a surprise that it's still on the needles, and I now need an extra ball of yarn for little miss lanky-legs so that's going to be a little while still.

And last but not least, from the hand of Mummy:

Pirate trousers!

It's the quick change trouser pattern from Anna Maria Horner's Handmade Beginnings and it's brilliant. The fabric is from Fabricworm and they're totally reversible -black skull and crossbones on one side and a blue sea with ships and treasure maps. It says "Ahoy there mate" on her knees and I think they may be the cutest thing I have every sewn.

So there we have it, my little girl is one, wrapped in all the love, time and handmade cuddles that I can give her. We spent today blackberrying with Godmummy Mandy and setting the world to rights, and now my freezer is stuffed with berries - crumble for Sunday lunch anyone?

One Year

2011-09-21T22:33:00.000Z

One year ago today a little girl entered the world and made me a Mama.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY not-so-tiny Wee Girl!

At one year old you are amazing. You're chatty and full of beans and you have the energy to defeat both your parents, although happily not the stair gates.

Last Sunday you climbed the stairs with Daddy following behind and I met you at the top as I got out of the bath with an enormous smile at your achievement.

You aren't quite walking but I doubt it will be long now - your crawling has some serious speed as you wiggle your way around the house.

You love your books - every morning you make a beeline for the bookcase to have all your books (and some of Mama's) spread out around you, and at the end of every day you snuggle up next to me to read your bedtime stories. One of these days you might even stop trying to eat the books.

It's been a while since we went swimming but you're making up for it in your bath; scrambling out of your bath seat and trying to climb up the taps and splish sploshing all the while.

When you got downstairs this morning you found a little Kitty-sized swing in the lounge and your face was a picture - you couldn't wait to empty your other presents out of the seat and climb on in. We'll be adding the leg extensions and putting in in the garden later so you can swing as I hang out laundry.

Daddy and I took you out for lunch at the pub,

Fish, chips and peas for your birthday lunch, and a smear of ketchup shamelessly purloined from Daddy's plate before we realised what you were after.

yo
Your birthday cake was pretty simple, a victoria sponge filled with whipped cream and raspberries and topped with more of the same.

This year you've learnt to breath, to nurse, to smile, to laugh, to cuddle, to roll, to crawl, to eat solids, to pull up, to toddle and to chatter. It's been a big year.
Well my little girl, you're still quite tiny but you're not a baby any more. Being your Mama has changed my life in so many wonderful topsy turvy ways. I love you and I would not be without you for the wide world.

Happy First Birthday, and many more to come

love Mama

Foodie Delights

2011-09-13T22:24:00.000Z

We went to the Leamington Food Festival on Sunday morning for a post-church, pre-lazy Sunday afternoon kind of snack lunch.

I'd love to show you photos of the stalls, the hog roasts (plural, plural hog roasts I tell you), the cakes, and the madness that was the cookery demonstrations but alas, our hands were full. Kitty had a gentle nap as we surveyed the stands, and then tucked in.

Hog roast for H, followed by a red sausage, and freshly cooked sweet and sour chicken with thai noodles and sweetcorn fritters for me.

Kitty woke up in time to try some Homity Pie (which she loved), and we visited the cake stall for strawberry meringues and strawberry cakes to take home. H doubted we'd get the meringues home in one piece but as you can see they did make it.

I made no promise of the kind about the strawberry tarts - but they tasted good just the same.

I think that we may have another foodie in the house too - well, let's look at the evidence:

Spaghetti sauce is the new shampoo don't you know!

It was everywhere! - her vest is being soaked but her comb may never recover from being used to extract pasta as three washes only just put paid to that unique auburn tinge. Suffice to say, this girl loves her food.

And finally, for Godmummy Mandy - "Look what I can do!"

Blue shimmer

2011-09-06T21:23:00.001Z

The original Blue Shimmer was I'm sure inspired by snow, glaciers, and frost glittering across a frozen world. And to be fair, there's probably more call for wristwarmers (and hats and scarves and jumpers) in the Great White North, but when I see my Blue Shimmer there's only one thing it reminds me of - the sun across the bay in the morning.

And now there are two.

I think I might be needing them in the next few days and weeks; it was definitely autumnal even before the end of August, the trees are dropping leaves into the recycling boxes, the prickly bush in the garden is covered in red berries, and the sky seems full of helicopters whirling down from the sycamore tree.

I've loved this summer, and this year I think I can say that we have had a summer of sorts, sitting out in the garden with Kitty, meeting friends in the park for a picnic, and even a BBQ, but I'm unashamedly embracing the autumn.

Not so much the darker mornings and evenings, but crisp mornings that smell ever so slightly of leaf mould, the deeper blue skies that only come with September, soup (ah! soup!) and crusty bread for Saturday lunches before H rushes out to hockey, and, most importantly (drum roll please):

The return of the sock season.

I've not worn socks on a regular basis since May and I can't wait to snuggle into some soft wool on a chilly pre-heating day night. Maybe I should make some new ones to celebrate ...

Monday in pictures

2011-08-29T16:35:00.002Z

Culinary Experiment Book 2

2011-08-28T21:43:00.000Z

In the last few weeks I've jointed a chicken (more than once), found a new favourite and had our first fail of the project, although that was largely my fault. Yes, we've moved onto Book 2, and this time it's one I actually own.

I discovered the Pioneer Woman blog and recipes in the last few weeks of my pregnancy when general twitchiness sent me trawling the internet for something different for supper; we tried the meatballs and never looked back. I ordered the book wandering which would arrive first. It was the book. By a good week.

Book 2 in the Great Culinary Experiment: Pioneer Woman Cooks

We've made a few things before but this time I sat down again for a good cover to cover read with the added bonus that I was willing to consider cooking things that involved bending down to put them in the oven.

Now then, shall we get the one that got away first:

Chicken Pot Pie. When I say it's largely my fault, it really is. I ran out of plain flour after making the pie crust, which incidentally was delicious, so when it came to sprinkle flour in to the chicken and veg to make the gravy I used the only thing in the cupboard - strong white bread flour - I know, I know, blame it on sleep deprivation; a very glutinous flour is going to give you a very glutinous pie. And so it was - gloopy, cloying and not at all nice - we enforced the house rule and ordered pizza.

I think that with just ordinary plain flour, although probably not a whole cup of it, it would have been nice, but H just wasn't wild on the flavours altogether so it might just not be one for us.

On the other hand, this will be on the repeat list:

Chicken Spaghetti Casserole. Oh how we loved it. Oh how we loved it the second and third time, and Oh how I forgot to take any pictures on any occasion. It was spicy enough for H but mild enough that Kitty wolfed it down and really simple to make and one recipe makes enough for three generous meals for our little family.

But possibly best of all, a pot roast. Soft tender beef, with slow cooked carrots and new potatoes. One little joint did two suppers, a lunch, and a little bit left for snacking, and it was perfect.

Last but not least, Macaroni Cheese - another of the 'eaten before I had a chance to take a photo'. Just imagine a golden, bubbling, slightly crispy layer of macaroni with cheesy pasta underneath. It was good, it was a working day, and pasta shapes and cheese it one of my major food groups; you can see why the camera never had a look in.

The portions are cowboy sized and I haven't done as many recipes as the last book simply because my freezer only has so much space. At the moment it's got a frozen lasagne, a steak pie and two portions of meatballs and it seems a little empty. What this book has shown me is how much I easier life can be having food stored away in the freezer for working night meals so I think Monday will be our cooking day for a while to come and as long as the freezer doesn't break and I remember to defrost at the right time all will be well.

I think I read somewhere that there's a new book in the works but in the meantime I need to petition Food Network UK to show their American cousin's new Pioneer Woman Saturday morning programme, because this food is good, and it's food to go straight to the heart of my steak-loving husband.

Grown up wood nymph

2011-08-25T09:49:00.001Z

When H and I had just started working, and before my parents retired, we would try to meet up in Devon every autumn half terms and go for a walk on the edge of Dartmoor, down through the woods in all the colours of green, gold and sienna to a stream that hurried and sploshed over the rocky river bed. We'd go along the stream, up to the top of the wood and back to the car through an Iron age fort in time to reach the pub for rabbit pie and scrumpy at lunchtime.

When Zee and I were little we did the same walk, but we'd run ahead and hide behind trees or pose on tree stumps, or fallen logs. Mum and Dad or sometimes Grannie would walk past with the obligatory,

"Oh what a lovely wood nymph. I wonder where Carie/Zee could have got to..."

and of course we'd jump out and 'boo' them. It never seemed to bother any of us that wood nymphs didn't usually wear a bright blue coat or jeans and a rainbow jumper, it was in the mind, as all good make believe is.

Now though I think I've got the outfit. Well the jumper at least.

These pictures aren't from the woods, just my parent's garden courtesy of Zee who helped take photos when we were down at the beginning of August (as yes, that tells you just how far behind I am on my blogging!).

It's the Grown Up Hoodie pattern by Kira Dulaney in Madelintosh 80/10/10 Worsted in Forestry.

I knit to the pattern with one major and somewhat obvious exception - my hoodie is stocking stitch not reverse stocking stitch. I just like it better that way and it was easy enough to change, all I added was a single purl stitch either side of the cable pattern on the back and on the pockets and that was that.

It is a great pattern and the yarn is lovely so I have exactly what I set out to get, a snuggly warm cardie for the autumn and those winters nights when Kitty decides she needs extra cuddles (please let her have started sleeping through by the winter, please please). If I'm being perfectly honest with myself though, I could have improved the fit for my body shape a little better. I added length because I'm longer than average in the body and I put the extra length after the waist shaping as usual but in this pattern it would have been better just after the ribbing. Then of course the swatch lied (again) and the jumper grew lengthwise so the in point of the waist shaping is on my hips. It isn't noticeable though unless you really look.

The other amendment would be to add more height to the back of the hood before picking up the sides. It's a nice big hood and it's great to snuggle up in but on me, having the hood up lifts the front the jumper up off my collarbone. As I rarely wear hoodie hoods up (I just like them for the scarf-effect of extra fabric around the back of my neck) I'm not bothered by this at all. This is my first hoodie and now I know for next time what I'll be checking in the schematic.

The buttons on the other hand are a perfect match colour wise and satisfied a longing to use them in something for me, ever since I first encountered and applied them to a baby surprise jacket. I might just have to put a stitch in the buttonholes though post blocking.

As I said it's not a fail by any stretch of the imagination, I can see this being my go to cardie for a while to come (although it's about to face some stiff competition in the cardigan's I have queued).

11 months (and a day)

2011-08-22T22:28:00.001Z

To our little girl

Yesterday was your last month birthday, next month you will be a whole one year old and I really can't believe it. Your eleven month birthday was your little buddy's proper first birthday, the first baby to arrive out of our NCT group, two weeks early and 24 hours before we were all meeting up for a pre-baby reunion lunch. Perhaps we should have organised that earlier!

At eleven months you are seriously mobile; you crawl at high speed, usually towards an open door, or the stairs, and you're still trying to thwart your parents seemingly unreasonable intention to prevent you from pushing all the pretty lights and buttons on that little box in the corner.

You love:

your food -

strawberries in particular; and now you have two tiny teeth you're munching away on anything and everything. We had giant couscous salad for lunch today and you carefully picked up each little grain for the first 10 minutes and then splatted the rest of it and licked it off your fist. Things that you don't like so much you dangle over the side of your high chair and drop when you think we aren't looking.

your teddies - Giraffe and Solomon the Elephant are never far away from you and they snuggle up with you at night.

swinging -

you were a little bit scared the first time we took you to the park but now, now we have to tear you away. You tried the slide today, with Mama holding you so you didn't go too fast, and I think we got a little giggle. You certainly liked the texture of the slide, it's all bumpy metal and makes a funny noise when you hit it with your hand.

being outside - you seem to be constantly making a bid for freedom if we've got the doors open.
listening to your stories and playing with your books.

You're not so keen on:

Naps
Sleeping generally
Being away from Mama. (but Mama isn't that keen on being away from you either).

You're still pretty tall for your age (no surprises there) and your smile would melt the stoniest of hearts. When I pick you up you wrap your arms around my neck and dig your fingers into my hair, and your ankles tuck into my sides to cling on as tight as you can. Some day you won't want to cuddle in so tight but for now my arms are always open.

I love you little girl.

Love Mama

Cake and Crafty things

2011-08-21T12:10:00.000Z

On Thursday I made one fruit cake, one batch of red velvet cupcakes, one batch of chocolate brownies, chicken enchiladas and three greetings cards.

On Friday I made one fruit cake, one lemon drizzle cake, the icing for one batch of red velvet cupcakes, the icing for one batch of chocolate brownies, one round of shortbread and a piece of vorticist art.

On Saturday I tok them all to a tent on the village playing fields and H took me for a paninni and a nice green leaf salad for lunch and after that I felt lot better.

Distinct shades of the Very Hungry Caterpillar around here as I got ready for the village show, only exacerbated by the fact that the kitchen is still covered in cake, only now it's cooked and neatly displayed on plates instead of splattered over, well, pretty much everywhere (I am NOT a tidy cook).

A few hours later and the results were in:

In the Kitchen:

Third for lemon drizzle cake - from Annie Bell's beautiful cakes book, in a Nordicware cake tin with lemons on the top. I had a few wobbles with the cooking time but it turned out damp and delicious - I will be making this again soon.

Third for decorated cupcakes. My cupcakes are "Somewhere over the rainbow" - ruby red velvet slippers cake in a yellow paper case and on a yellow plate with sky blue icing, fluffy clouds and rainbows. The First and Second cupcakes were neat swirls of buttercream with sprinkles and a flake (2nd) or silver balls and a sprig of lavendar (1st). Next time I'll scrap the concept and practice my buttercream piping.

Not placed - Fruit cake (understandable as I added the cherries too soon on the second do over cake and the food processor chopped them too small to be identifiable - tastes nice though), shortbread, chocolate brownies and quince jelly.

Last year I only got a third in Gingerbread so this is progress.

Handmade:

First - Oopsie in 'a 3D item', with the comment 'a baby would love this'. She does.

Second - Solomon, also in 'a 3D item'.

Highly commended - my Phoenix socks

Highly commended - a handmade Good Luck card. In my personal taste I did not like the card that came first in this category but for future reference, it was a Christmas card again so next yer Christmas cards it will be.

Sadly disqualified - I'm still a bit grumpy about this. The handicrafts category has a size limit of 2 foot on it. In previous years this has been read as 'don't take up more than 2' display space' and things folded up have been fine - I won a third for my Swan lake wrap which is way over 2'. This year I entered Kitty's Alice Starmore baby blanket and my flowing river shawl and both came back saying they were fabulous and impressive pieces of work but sadly more than 2'. Wave bye bye to two places I could have had. I wasn't the only one caught out, a couple of small quilts fell foul too but it does really limit what I can enter in future; it will have to be socks or baby cardies because any piece of lace, or jumper, or anything knitted or quilted is going to be too big. Maybe I should start petitioning for a category for big things!

Not placed - my Bohus wristlets, two greetings cards, a bracelet and my piece of art:

Started on Thursday and finished on Friday, it's called 'Breakers' and it's supposed to be an early cubist impression of a wave crashing on a beach. Vortecisim just preceeded cubism, and when we went to Peggy Guggenheim in Venice there was a special collection of the Vortecists work, Edward Wadsworth being my favourite example. I suspect the idea have been floating around and when push came to shove to have something to enter I thought I'd play with it. Full acknowledgements to H for this one though for giving me materials and trying to teach me how to paint in under 24 hours.

We like it, it's an acquired taste though and by the gentle watercolour of village life that won I think I'm a few years ahead of myself in terms of show entries.

So not a bad year all in all. H sometimes struggles to understand why I'd put so much time and effort into a show, only to get a few little cards and tuppence ha'penny in prize money, but I love it, I love getting little cards, I don't mind about prize money (and I tend to donate it back to the show as the entry is free anyway). I suspect part of me, well lets admit it, a big part of me, loves to show off what I really love to spend my time doing, I mean, isn't part of a blog shouting to the world "Look what I made! I love it! You could make one too!"

And of course, at the end of it all - there's a kitchen full of cake!

And now, back to the gingernuts

2011-08-16T21:45:00.000Z

Louis Vitton has returned its stock to the shop - It's my new measure for the safety of central Birmingham. Seriously though, all seems well and windows are reappearing from behind chipboard and shutters and it seems fantastical that a week today we were sent home from work at twenty past three for our safety.

In amongst all the crazy there have been glimmers of craftyness; baking, knitting and a little sewing; a little sun, a little sea, and time spent with family.

But first those gingernuts. H's brother and his wife have just moved back from Scotland to Cleackeaton and to celebrate the drive now being a mere two hours, we went to warm their house by helping to assemble flat pack furniture and plant up their front garden. I think traditionally you're supposed to bring someone a loaf of bread as a housewarming gift but we thought we'd just fill a couple of cake tins instead.

Tin one, Raspberry Marscapone Layer cake (no picture, but it's the one I made for my birthday here) and tin two was going to be a shortbread, flapjack mixture. Well the shortbread got eaten, and two rounds of flapjack later I was running low on porridge oats and still yet to make a batch that was at gift standard (although the second lot was deemed sufficiently edible to be tipped into one of our cake tins, having been given a reprieve from the bin by the independant adjudicator).

Enter stage left, this recipe. They're chewy and soft and wonderfully gingerbready and it's really a miracle that any made it up north at all. Best of all, we had all the ingredients in the house.

I've made a second batch since and they're just as good - definitely, definitely one to go on the repeat list. Deelish.

The only amendment I made was to leave out the cloves because I don't like it, and I fond that cooking for just 8 minutes gave the best squidgy temperature.

Since then, Kitty and I took a trip down home to see my parents while H played a golf tournament with friends on courses that all seemed to be on top of hills in Gloucestershire.

(sat in Great-Grandma Frank's baby chair and not yet sure of herself)

With my sister, her husband and a friend all down at the same time we had a houseful, and when the weather failed to co-operate for a beach day (too windy and showery) we took Kitty and her Grandpa on a boat trip.

That I knew the places we saw like the back of my hand, and could have given a fair stab at the commentary didn't lessen the pleasure of being out on the water in the sunshine. Kitty, to whom this was all new, ate her breadstick, tried very hard to loose her shark-decorated sunhat overboard, and as we pulled away from the quay, settled in to nurse and then nap for the rest of the trip.

The rest of us managed to spot the rather small yacht (second smallest in the fleet) in which Dad competed in a Tall Ships Race out of Plymouth and down across Biscay to Spain during which they had a full knock down. I've done some tall ship racing of my own but on that occassion rather him than me.

We did manage to get down to the beach nearest my parents later after supper and had a paddle. One little toe dip was enough for our littlest one though and she was swiftly handed to Grandpa for cuddles and stone towers while the girls and I spolshed around in the shallows. She loved kicking her feet in the small shingle and didn't eat any (I think!). I have the first pebble she picked up to pop in her memory box. A good memento of her first visit to the beach.

Shaking Down

2011-08-12T06:02:00.002Z

We're in a transition phase of life at the moment. I'm back at work part time and still editing my work/life organisation - what has to be ready they night before and what can wait; just how much I can get done in a 3 day week; and how to manage all the calls for my time and attention.

I do have things I want to talk about, and I've even finished some knitting projects and lined up all sorts of crafty projects but the pictures are still on the camera and a friend is pleading with the laptop to stop sulking behind the blue screen of death.

This week we were sent home early from work because of riots in Birmingham. Not in some far off suburb at the wrong end of town but on our doorstep. Rioters and looters ran past our office, smashing the window of the shop next door.

On Tuesday morning the staff of the nearby Louis Vitton office evacuated their stock back to the warehouse and all through the day the sound was of hammers smacking nails into chipboard all across town. It's not really mindless violence; it's targetted marauding - in one street they hit LA Fitness, Jessops, skipped Pret (no sarnies), hit McDonalds, skipped Greggs and the Pasty Shop and hit T Mobile. That's not rioting, that's shopping.

On Wednesday the same scene all over again only you couldn't tell which shops were boarded up for damage and which for protection. It's been quiet since and we'll watch and wait. In all of this it seems so frivolous to write about a newly finished project or the Ginger cookies I made ... I'll tell you later.

For now we're taking care and hoping everything gets back to normal soon.

The Great Culinary Experiment

2011-07-25T20:11:00.001Z

My enthusiasm for cooking largely depends on what I need to make and when. Need a cake, I'll make you one any time. Need something interesting for supper when I'm only 10 minutes through the door from work and I've forgotten to defrost whatever it was I was planning on us having, housewifely enterprise dribbles out the door while I dial up the takeaway.

Part of the problem is that, as with many people, the easiest things to cook are the recipes in my brain, and there's a limited amount of space in the recipe section. From all of this (and the side effect of having spag bol for the 14th week running) I came up with The Challenge.

I'm not going to do it every week, and I fully reserve my right to deviate from it if there's something in the fridge that needs using up, but basically I'm going back to my cookbooks:

Each week all or most of our meals have to come from one cookbook on the shelf.
Not the cake books (sadly, but probably for the best).
Minor deviations from the recipes are allowed.
No more than two meals can be things we've tried before.

In the true spirit of the rules, our first week has started with a bit of a cheat. I don't own this cookbook. Yet.

The River Cottage Family Cookbook. I've got to take it back to the library soon because I've had my three renewals but I may very well check it in and straight out again. So what have we been eating:

Spaghetti Carbonara - oh was this good and oh was this fast - we had some freshly made pasta in the fridge so the whole meal took about 10 minutes to make - a perfect work day supper, especially followed by

Strawberry Fool - the strawbs on top were from the strawberry patch in the garden but it hasn't cropped heavily enough to make a whole pudding. We left out the icing sugar so that Kitty could have some and the strawberries were sweet enough that we didn't miss it.

Salmon Fishcakes - another good supper staple and nice to find a recipe without onions. I made it as the recipe but left out the salt to be baby-friendly and whilst it was nice, I think we would spice it up a little (our preference for tangy food having risen every year we've lived in the Balti Belt). Maybe a little chopped chili, or possibly even some paprika would do the trick.

Lamb 'Kebabs' - it was raining so we roasted rather than BBQ, but they were delicious. I added some extra veg to the mix; yellow pepper was great, green pepper was too bitter which was a bit of a shame but tucked into pittas they went down a treat and a nice change from using pasta, rice or potatoes as the evening carb.

Sag Aloo - this was a Kitty and Mummy lunch and it was really good. Kitty loved picking up the little potato cubes, and I enjoyed having homegrown spinach - even if a certain someone did seem to be hiding hers under her bottom.

Kedgeree - when I was little, every Easter we had a Service of Light at church, starting packed together in the dark at the back of church and going out to meet the rising sun. After the service, we all had a bring and share breakfast (and a chocolate egg hunt in the churchyard) and Mrs Nancy always brought her amazingly delicious muesli and kedgeree. It was good. This was good too, not quite up to my rose-tinted standard, possibly because I turned out not to have any curry powder and subbed crushed cumin seeds instead, but comforting and filling in a good way.

Chocolate Brownies and Shortbread. Notice the lack of pictures. This is all you need to know. Draw your own conclusions on their merit.

All in all, Week One of the Great Culinary Experiment has gone well. This week we're eating up the freezer and the veg patch but next week we'll be working our way through the Ginger Pig Meat Book - can't wait.

Double Figures .. Again

2011-07-21T22:42:00.000Z

It's months this time, our little Kitty-cakes has hit double again - 10 months old today.

10 months? How can she be 10 months? Wasn't it only a month or so ago that a small, warm, mewling, bundle of baby girl, with dark hair and beautiful big eyes was lifted up to me for her very first cuddle?

They say that the big development milestones hit around the threes and multiples thereof and Kit spent the last month reaching them in leaps and bounds. Literally.

On our birthday she could commando crawl slowly, with some strategic rolling, crossing a room in a gentle zig-zag. One month on and she's got crawling nailed, first commando crawling at speed and now the bottom's up and she's full speed ahead - into the kitchen, down the hall, round and round the lounge.

A serious reorganisation and the next level of baby proofing is on the cards for the not too distant future.

I went back to work part-time a couple of weeks ago and Kitty seems to have (finally) settled in to nursery. I give her big cuddles in the sling all the way from the car, and then pop her into a highchair and pass her her breakfast toast, and I scuttle off as she tuck in.

Truth be told, it's still hard to leave her, she's just so much fun at this age, so much more interactive than even a month ago; she's all big smiles and chatty noises, and she knows what "clap" and "wave" mean and can match the action to the word.

This afternoon we sat and chatted in the kitchen as I cooked (I tell her what I'm doing and she says "agooo") and then sat in the garden in her new little tent (a present from her Daddy who knows how much his little girl loves being outside). We played with her teddies, sang songs, and read Room on the Broom (to an appreciative audience increased by a little boy next door up a tree).

She is our love, and with H, the centre of my world. Happy 10-month birthday my little love. Your next landmark birthday is going to be a big one.

Haute Couture and Granite Mines

2011-07-20T22:04:00.002Z

They don't have much to do with one another at first glance do they? Actually, even at second glance, or a third glance, they don't seem to be even remotely connected. But they are ...

When the Knit Nation schedule was launched there was one class in among all the other temptations that really stuck out, Susanna Hansson's Bohus Stickning, and when the maths added up so that I could go, I was bouncing up and down in my seat.

Needless to say the whole Knit Nation experience was just as fantastic this year as last, a testament to Alice and Cookie's serious organisational skills. Seriously, world peace and the national debt - they'd have it done in a heartbeat.

Rather than try to persuade a clingy little baby that she wanted to be without her Mama for the longest time ever, and given the crazy lack of trains available to get you into London at 8am on a Sunday, we took a chance and the whole family drove down at some unmentionable hour on silent almost empty roads.

We arrived at Imperial and parked almost at the front door to the Sherfield building and scuttled past the raindrops to register and to blag our way into being allowed to buy breakfast at the canteen. Fortified with a fry-up and a little croissant, Kitty and H set off to explore London and I headed to class.

I can't remember where I first came across a Bohus jumper but it was love at first sight. They're so beautiful and soft and fuzzy and I wanted one. And that's how I came to have a Wild Apples Bohus kit sat in my cupboard for the last few years. All I needed was a bit of a kick into starting it.

We started class talking about the history of Bohus, how the closure of the granite mines in Sweden after demand plummeted in the post-war recession led the wives of the men who worked there to ask the governor's wife for help, and the enterprising Emma Jacobssen organised them to knit jumpers from the very best yarn that were sold as haute couture for a price that would reach well into the thousands today.

My complete failure to count to 72 somewhat slowed down my progress on my little wristwarmer but the fourth time was the charm and we knit and chatted and I went into a little dream world of enchantment with the loveliness of the angora/wool yarn. Actually that could have been genuine sleep (tiny wee madam had been awake from 2am to the time we had to get up) and I was staving off the tiredness with regular infusions of caffeine.

Susanna is a fabulous teacher, and her love of Bohus knitting and the whole concept shines through everything she says. I picked up some great tips to apply to my little kit, especially not catching the floats however long they are. It's a little counter-intuitive when Fairisle projects stress catching the floats to prevent snagging but the yarn is so fluffy and sticky that a little wear will matt it together nicely.

The wristwarmers are a part of the Blue Shimmer pattern, now newly added to my ongoing wishlist of Bohus kits on Solveig's site

And then came the moment we'd all been waiting for, a chance to have a really good look at Susanna's collection of original and reconstruction jumpers, cardigans, hats and scarves.

They're so unexpectedly light

And fluffy with a soft halo.

H had a marketplace ticket for the day, mainly so that he and Kitty could use the Knitting Parlour upstairs (a sectioned off bit of Imperial's SCR) to have a nice sit down over lunch and to meet up with me at the end of the day. And of course it was then only natural then that he wandered around the marketplace with me, to hold my shopping of course (as well as a 21lb baby), and we came home with a good mix of things for me to knit for me, for him and for Kitty but more on that another day when I've managed to take some photos.

And for those who read this blog purely for a little Kitty-fix (I'm looking at you, grandparents), a little something to whet your appetite (and enter competitive grandparenting with the assertion that Kitty went to university when she was only 10 month old ..!)

As English as...

2011-07-04T20:49:00.001Z

On Sunday afternoon H, Kitty and I took up our duty as English citizens and, for a few hours, fulfilled our national stereotype. H went to play T-20 cricket at the club and we loaded up with books and toys, a quilt and a picnic and set camp to watch an ancient English rain dance take place.

Cricket has to be the only game where you have a fry up before you start and a sandwich and a doughnut at half time but it seemed to do the trick; they romped home with two overs to spare and only five wickets down (two back to back when they only needed one more run to win).

Kitty rolled around and around, tickled her toes in the grass, befriended another baby girl who crawled over so that they could giggle together and read her books (upside down) until she snuggled down in her buggy for an afternoon nap.

And me, well I had a good book and some knitting but more on that another day.

When we got home I spotted a flash of red in our front garden veggie beds and underneath the netting were three perfect Florence strawberries, unmolested by pigeons, caterpillars or other nibbly things.

H said they were yummy, I thought they were fragrant and sweet and Kitty said "Aaaaageee" and ate hers all up so I think they're a success and Florence is definitely on the shopping list for next year. So we've had spinach and strawberries, the leeks are coming on nicely and if we can catch them, we might even have some potatoes later on. It's an English summer at her best.

Just hear those sleigh bells jingling ...

2011-07-02T20:46:00.000Z

I know, I know, it's July (don't worry, you haven't just slept for five months and woken up in December).

I've been missing in action (again) because I've been hard at work on an actual genuine crafty project.

With Kitty spending more and more time at nursery in preparation for my return to work, I've had a little time to pull out some projects from the back of the cupboard, and I'm starting with a quilt. Or should that be re-starting?

I started properly not last Christmas, or the one before that, but the one before that (I think). It's a barbed wire quilt using Moda's Let it Snow fabric which needs a good amount of the contrast colour to make the stars, far more than I had so it got tucked in a bag while I searched the internet for a matching jelly roll, a charm pack and another charm pack.

I think I'd originally made about a third of the quilt and I had most of the jelly roll (some of it got pilfered for Kitty's stocking) and the charm packs to chop up into 4.5" or 6.5" little rectangles.

If I'd cut the white to the right size to start with I'd have had enough but for some reason I started cutting them too large - lesson learned, don't watch telly and cut.

So now I've got lots of little piles of rectangles, just ready for the moment when Miss Kitty has a little nap, and I've got time to abandon the housework in favour of my sewing machine. I might even finish it before Christmas.

Tiny Clothes

2011-06-26T13:16:00.000Z

It's not a piece of clothing by itself, but a whole outfit that I've split off from the pile of things that no longer fit and tucked away in a box by itself. A tiny cotton vest, covered in little yellow chicks, sketched in brown on a white background, and a white babygro with bright jungle animals, giraffe, crocodiles, elephants and monkeys.

Back in August I ran laundry loads of newborn clothes, lumbering into the garden to hang them out on the line, a string of pastel and white bunting announcing that we were finally getting ready to welcome our little bear. Everything came in multipack form and I sat in the nursery chair, carefully sorting through to choose the very best, and very gender neutral to pack in my labour bag. Folded together with a few nappies and tucked into the bottom of the bag with a cardigan and later a little pistachio green hat; covered with water bottles, sweeties and the famous flapjack that went out of date before I went into labour.

After Kitty was born we sat for what felt like hours with her lying on my chest, stroking her hair and her cheeks, gazing in awe at this little person that was all ours. Eventually one of the midwifes suggested we might like to dress her before she weed on us, and H took her to her cot to dress her, carefully fitting tiny floppy arms into sleeves no bigger than my thumb and wrapping her in freshly washed cotton and handknit love.

She managed to fit into her newborn and 1 month clothes for another week or so and in that time I think she wore the vest and babygro a couple more times, and then our little girl had already started heading up to the 6' something that she seems likely to be. When I packed up her newborn clothes I pulled these two out of the pile and tucked them into her baby box with her cards, her hospital bracelets and other special treasures.

Soft through washing, and smelling of a mixture of laundry liquid and newborn baby, and tiny, so tiny that I can scarcely believe she ever wore them, they are my first night as a mother, in a hot dark hospital ward with a little animal covered girl soundly sleeping in the cot beside me.

Inspired by this week's Writing Workshop Prompts at Sleep is for the weak

Remembering

2011-06-25T11:16:00.000Z

In my earliest memory I am two and a half years old. I'm climbing up a big flight of wide stairs clutching tightly to Daddy's hand up above me and gazing up at the enormous red cut out Father Christmas on the wall to the side of us.

As we reach the top we turn left into a room and there, just inside the door to the left, is my Mummy sitting up on a narrow bed. Next to her is a clear plastic box on wheels, and there's something, or someone wriggling in it. I must have been introduced to my baby sister, born earlier that morning, several weeks and one Christmas before she was due, but it's not that that I remember, it's that the nurse gave me a digestive biscuit, and I didn't really like it, but I ate it anyway to be polite.

I know that's a memory because there aren't any pictures but when ten days later, the camera caught me 'helping' Zee to open her hastily filled stocking I can't be so sure. I think I remember bouncing across the landing behind Mum in a squishy dressing gown, but do I remember it only because I've seen the photos so many times? It isn't as strong a memory as sitting perched up high on the leather covered seat of the dining room chair, dangling my feet, the leather cool against my legs, eating a slice of Christmas cake, and yet there's a photo of that.

Where does memory end and photos take over?

I think there must be a glimer of memory for the photos to stimulate it. For example, I don't really remember a lot of my labour with Kitty. My brain can remember that it was long and can tell me that contractions hurt but I can't recall the feeling of labour at all (thank you lovely mind-wiping hormones) and no amount of photos of a teeny tiny new Kitty can trigger it.

I hope that Kitty remembers huge chunks of her childhood, whether biscuit related or otherwise, but it's unlikely that she'll remember that for H's firsth Father's Day we went to Hidcote Manor Gardens to meander along the Rose Walk and giggle at the curly tails on the new Berkshire pigs, or that she got new clothes for Mummy and Daddy's birthday, but it's unlikely. I, on the otherhand, am treasuring every moment tucked away in my heart. Every giggle, every smile is so very precious to me, especially as little Miss is starting to spend more and more time at nursery as I get ready to go back to work in July, and I miss her dreadfully when we're apart.

Whatever she does or doesn't remember, the digital age means that there are sure to be photos, and that gives me the perfect excuse to continue to be her Mamarazzi.

Kitty, aged 9 months, reading us That's Not My Dinosaur on our birthday

31, 31 and 3/4

2011-06-25T06:58:00.001Z

I'll leave it up to you to attribute the numbers to the people. Yes, it's true, another birthday has come around again. And with old age, clearly goes the inability to post about it on time (that would be Kitty's age, smack bang in the middle of the clingy phase). Tuesday wasn't a landmark birthday for any of us. At 40 weeks it perhaps should have marked the time that Kitty had been out longer than she was 'in' but our little laid back girl has another couple of weeks to go for that.

H's parents came to visit (and to take us out for a fabulous dinner - blackened cajun salmon with sweet potato mash and a pineapple salsa followed by Eton mess) and brought his cousin, Miss H, for some extra tuition before her final physics A-level exam on Monday, along with the appropriate remuneration (a tub of homemade millionaire's shortbread).

We've spent the days since in a blur of cake and equations, and I'm rapidly relearning things I didn't know I'd forgotten a good 13 years ago when I toiled over A-level maths.

But you didn't really come here to read how I was spoiled by friends and family, even if that spoiling did include purple sock needles (thank you Mandy, I love them), you came to see cake.

I know last year I said that if I made something cool and neat with columns you'd know I'd grown up. Well this year I ran out of time to do a story cake, and my cake is looking dangerously like something chic

It's Raspberry Marscapone Layer Cake with pink icing and edible pink hearts (thank you A for my Christmas present glitter) from Annie Bell's Gorgeous Cakes book. It's a ground almond sponge filled with a marscapone, icing sugar and crushed raspberry mix, and it's damp and sweet and refreshing and I think it might be my favourite ever.

For H's cake, I had a very cunning plan, let down somewhat in the execution.

The inspiration is here, although I beg you not to look at the two side by side.

I really wanted to make him a stripy Celtic cake (green and white), and I carefully baked two nice square cakes, one green, one white ... and then it all went wrong.

Firstly, the two cakes were different heights, and I didn't level them properly. Then when I cut the cakes into concentric squares I didn't get the measurements exactly the same on both cakes, so they weren't a snug fit.

The lemon sugar syrup failed to stick the strips of cake to each other, and an hour in the fridge only made it chillily unstuck.

It was at this point that, whilst wailing and knashing teeth, I lamented the fate of the cake on Twitter, which H sometimes reads ... oops.

Still, onwards, and upwards, I grouted the cake with buttercream and fondanted my smaller layer quite nicely, although the sides of the cake were a bit rounded so that instead of nice crisp corners I had more of an iced cob loaf that a layer cake.

For the second layer I was defeated by the width of my worktop, so I had to do a little patch job on one side, and then there was a little rip on a corner, so I did a little patch, and then another ...

I tried to pipe little green scallops around the edges but I was using ordinary icing not royal icing (because the latter tastes horrid) and it couldn't hold the pattern and turned into big soft green lines. But this was at 10.30 at night, so I stuck the candles in and hoped for the best.

H loves it, and it does taste really good thanks to the lemon sugar syrup and lemon buttercream so it's disappearing rapidly, which is very reassuring for the amateur baker who thought she had sunk to the level of cake wrecks.

But before I disappear again, I do have to tell you about a very special present

It's not something H or I gave to each other, or that anyone else gave us. Instead, this is a present for a little girl who lives all the way over the pond. Way back when a little girl called 'Heidi' was our Bamboo sponsor baby, I made a little lap quilt while I was thinking about her, and in my mind it became Heidi's quilt. I thought it might be for Kitty when she arrived but to me it was still Heidi's.

Heidi was adopted last September, and I knew Pearl River had been in touch with her family. So I asked, and Pearl River asked, and Heidi's mum very generously said that we could send the quilt to her daughter. It was my favourite ever trip to the post office.

Hijack

2011-06-19T17:38:00.000Z

Da-da .... Daaa-Daaaaa...... Dadadadadadadadada

A-geegee... A-gee gee gee gee gee. Ughrrrrrrr.

Hee hee hee

(getting increasingly high pitched) dadadadada dededede

Ahhhh. Mmmm

'Iya Dadadada

zzzzz!

(Translation by the captivated hostage:

Daddy Daddy Daddy!
I love you Daddy Daddy Daddy!
Strawberries - yum! Daddy or Strawberries?
Daddy!
dreams involving milk, teddies and bananas)

Happy Father's Day for the first time lovely Husband!

As I look down

2011-06-14T19:57:00.001Z

On chubby little hands off invisible wrists and sweet plump baby arms, fingers curled in the remains of a grip that faded as sleep came, the favoured thumb resting loosely on a bottom lip still sucking.

Soft newly washed hair and impossibly long eyelashes brushing creamy pink cheeks.

Pale pink cotton sprinkled with tiny flowers smelling of the little girl that sleeps inside it.

This is my here and now. And it's wonderful.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Kitty and the rose

2011-06-05T16:52:00.000Z

Well it's not exactly sunny today, it's one of those days optimistically described as 'dry and bright', meaning complete cloud cover. None the less it's a good sort of light for photographing creamy pink roses because nothing gets completely washed out by brilliant summer sunshine. And we wanted the pictures to be good, because this is a very special rose.

My father has a talent for choosing unusual but perfect gifts for people; every now and then he finds something that no-one else would ever have thought of, but becomes something very treasured - my Ancient Greek interlinear bible, a present for getting an A* in my Greek GCSE, being a classic example.

When he and Mum arrived with Kitty's Christmas present, he explained that a few days after her birth he was thinking about her name, and decided that if there wasn't a rose with her name, there really ought to be. And so began a little research into roses, that ended with a bare stem in a sea green pot arriving at our house in January.

It survived the frosts and the snow and slowly buds emerged and little green leaves unfurled and now we have beautiful fragrant creamy roses with a pink blush centre. It sits just outside our lounge doors and the scent floods in on a warm evening.

A little while ago we received a parcel from Kitty's Grannie with an almost finished dress and matching bloomers, and last week I finished it off. So her we have Kitty, in a dress made by Grannie, with her rose chosen by Grandpa:

Of course, having got her all set up, I thought I might try to take some actual knitting pictures. I mean, what with this being a creativey type of blog and all.

First to be finished, the Bellyfant Baby Cardigan in Debbie Bliss Baby Cashmerino

Next off the needles was the wonderful Sweet Bunting. It's a Cosmic Pluto pattern and as soon as I saw it on Laura's blog I knew it was perfect for little miss. It's Baby Cashmerino again with a little scrap of aqua Sublime Baby Cashmere Merino Silk DK for the bunting string.

(and yes that is what generally happens when the baby gets too near the flowerpot!)

Last but not least, the cardigan I made in Venice, the Silver Cardigan, but in pink Sublime Cashmere Merino Silk DK with pink heart buttons in the exact matching colour.

They all have a little room for her to grow over the summer so hopefully she'll sport fewer 3/4 length sleeves in the future - although I love her Tulips Cardigan so much that she'll still be wearing it as a short-sleeved bolero. Perhaps a bigger version should be the next Kitty cardigan on the needles?

First tooth

2011-06-04T21:07:00.000Z

Yes it's true. Miss Kitty has today cut her first tooth, her lower left front. Where before all was tense white gum, now there is a tiny sharp ridge poking through.

It is sadly too small to photograph but after she bit H as he tried to check with a newly washed finger he assures me that it's very real.

We are of course incredibly proud and just a little relived to find a good reason for the grump she threw yesterday morning.

And with exquisite timing her rose, a Christmas present from Grannie and Grandpa, exploded into flower.

Tomorrow if it's sunny we'll take pictures of the girl with the flower that bears her name. I'm hoping to make this a yearly tradition but that presupposes that I can keep the rose alive long enough.

For now she's just proving that although she's Daddy on the outside, it's Mummy the bookworm on the inside, with the thrilling page-turner that is That's Not My Monkey

A swatch, a sleeve and two pocket linings

2011-06-01T20:19:00.000Z

That's the sum of a long weekend’s worth of knitting. And the sleeve looks remarkably like a rewound ball of crinkly Madelinetosh 80/10/10.

The dry swatch suggested that I was knitting a little tighter than the 16.5 st to 4” gauge for the Grown Up Hoodie, but when I swished it and laid it out to dry it had gone the other way. “Ah-Ha!” I thought, “as I fall a bit in between two sizes I’ll cast on the smaller size and it will end up a bit bigger”. Cunning, no?

The swatch stayed loose and floppy over the weekend and I merrily knit my sleeve, noting that it was currently more fitted than I really wanted but safe in the knowledge that my swatch told me it would grow.

Last night I finished the sleeve. And the pocket linings.

This morning I measured the swatch again. 17 and a smidge stitches to four inches. Grr.

A fast minute or two on the ball winder and it was all over. Alas poor sleeve I knit you well. The only saving grace is that the pocket linings are the same for the two sizes.

And now you hear me little jumper. If after all of this swatching and knitting and ripping, you have the temerity to be something less than perfect I will not only cut you into little pieces, bury you in the garden and deny all knowledge, I will, I will …..

….. DELETE YOU FROM MY RAVELRY PAGE

You have been warned.

Venice Part 3: Modern art and performance art

2011-05-28T22:19:00.000Z

The Peggy Guggenheim Collection is housed in a little one storey Venician palace not far from our hotel. It was supposed to be as big and grand as the palace it faces across the Grand Canal but for an unknown and much speculated reason (possibly the neighbours' influence in 18th century circles) it never got higher than the basement and ground floor. Many many years later Peggy moved in and started to amass her collection around her.

From the street side you enter a little courtyard full of sculpture and statues,

And then some more modern glass and mirrors

I don't have a photo of my favourite; a wishing tree where wishes were written on little pieces of paper and hung off the branches. There were wishes for world peace, wishes for happiness, and wishes from all over the world. My wish was a little closer to home (I'm not telling or it won't come true).

Inside the rooms were cool and plainly decorated to show off the art to its best advantage.

I'm fairly picky about modern art so I skipped a few rooms that didn't have anything to hold me and lingered more in others. There's no photography allowed inside the rooms so these photos are borrowed with thanks from the Peggy Guggenheim website and the links underneath each will take you to the appropriate page.

Agostino Bonalumi's Black

(here) is one that I just wanted to get inside and have a good look at to see if it's really concave or whether it's just an illusion (it's concave and it moves around the room with you).

Lucio Fontana Spacial Concept

(here) which I spent ages staring at to decide whether the black is a painted stripe or a slit in the canvas. Conclusion: a slit. I know that seeing it just as a picture you think 'oh anyone could do that, how can it be classed as art' but in the flesh there's something more to it; it's a very engaging piece of art if it was simply an artist's tantrum.

Hundertwasser Shelter

(here), the inspiration for a whole line of Regia yarn

Jackson Pollock Alchemy

(here) I've loved Jackson Pollock from afar for years but this was the first time I'd come face to face and it was completely wonderful. I could have spent hours looking at them, close up, far away, somewhere in the middle.

The photos are good but nothing can really convey the texture; it's chewy and thick and you just want to dig your fingers in and squish it. It's no wonder they've got all of them under glass.

I'm not sure what Kitty made of modern art; she liked the ones with bright colours and then she went for a little snooze in her carrier until we ended up back in the shop where she woke up to be petted and cooed over by the shop assistants.

And while she napped away the heat of each afternoon, I sat on our balconey and knit:

I finished a little cardigan while we were there, and it's since gained some buttons and had a gentle block. Kitty had three new cardigans that need a photoshoot so I'll have to hope the sun's shining next time she's in an amenable mood.

It was sunny every day until the last day when after we came back from our early morning trip to Piazza San Marco when the heavens opened, and there was a sudden need for brollies.

H bought me a lovely red umbrella with little white hearts and a white frill and I loved it unreservedly. I twirled and sang singing in the rain and it was big enough to keep Kitty and I nice and dry all the way to her toes.

It was too big to fit in the suitcase so we had to leave it in Italy and I was quite sad. H has promised me a replacement but I've got to do some serious research to find a proper replacement.

And now, to round off my picture tour to Venice I have one more photo. You see cruise ships come to Venice, towed in tightly fore and aft, rounding past San Giorgio Maggiori and down the Zattere to the sea port, and well, they're just a little disproportionate:

Venice Part 2: Fish and Food

2011-05-23T20:49:00.000Z

Venice isn't really known for wonderful food, and apparently the rest of Italy thinks it the country cousin on the gourmet front but either we hit lucky or it's more stereotype than truth because everything we had was wonderful.

(four cheese pizza for lunch with a slice of brie on top)

Every evening we headed down to the seafront at Zattere and tried out the restaurants there. I had turbot and aubergine, spaghetti and clams, fusilli with scallops and courgette, and a gorgeous aubergine pizza. H found a wonderful steak which I think he had at least twice, and a series of pizzas and Kitty tried mouthfuls of our meals (minus the seafood) and laid waste to a bowl of veggie and the bread basket each night.

And one night we sat next to an American couple who were very taken by Kitty (who was in full-on flirt and charm mode), and while we were talking to them their pudding arrived, and well, it was inevitable that we would follow suit:

Creme Brulee, made with a slightly lemony custard that was one of the most delicious things I've ever eaten.

The source of all the lovely seafood became clear when Kitty and I explored the Rialto markets one morning.

Coming from the Rialto bridge you meet the fruit and veg stalls first; heaving with ripe fruit and smelling sweet and clear.

I think these were described as Sicilian tomatoes. Whatever they were we bought a kilo (after my request for one was slightly misunderstood) and they were fantastic, sweet and juicy and perfect for Kitty who loves her tomatoes.

From the fruit market you come around the corner to two tall stone buildings with giant canvas awnings over the arches.

And inside is deep sea treasure

It was amazing, and huge. If we ever go to Venice again I want to rent an apartment so that I can cook all sorts of wonderful fish every night. Although given that I can identify only about half of what was there, perhaps it is better to let the restaurants do it.

All our wandering fully justified some extensive sampling of gellato. Our favourite came from a shop called Grund (no idea what it means) which did the best pink grapefruit sorbet, although a combination of tutti fruiti and pistachio from another shop on the seafront ran a close second.

Pistachio seemed to be one of my food of the trip. Apart from the ice-cream, on our first morning out we bought a pan pistacchio,

which while deliciously almondy and chocolate chippy

perhaps spent a little too much time communing with the green food colouring, and if pistachios came near the mixture they went through on stilts.

And then we found what came to be my regular cake shop, with giant meringues in the window (seriously they're the size of a ball of sock yarn)

These little sweets only just lasted long enough to be photographed, we have a ricotta custard slice on the left and a chocolate dipped fruit tart on the right.

One our final trip they hadn't put the little signs out saying what each cake was so I picked the most adventurous looking.

This was the nicer of the two, chocolate, sponge soaked in some sort of booze and cream. Perfect for eating on the Vaperetto in pouring rain.

And last but not least, my last cake in Venice, essentially a coconut macaroon on top of a chocolate tart. Bizarre but quite nice.

The Real Wedding of the Year

2011-05-22T16:00:00.000Z

Mary Batsgirl and her Evil Stevie got married yesterday in a lovely relaxed ceremony with plenty of family and friends to cheer them on. It was both perfect and perfectly them and H, Kitty and I had a wonderful day.

We had the chance to hang out with old friends who I hadn't managed to see since before Kitty was born and we got to meet Clare (aka Jiva) in person for the first time which was fantastic. Oh, and we all had our cameras there...

The Dinosaur and the Lovely Other Dinosaur

The Bride looking radiant (as well she might having walked down the aisle in gravity-defying platform heels).

Kitty having a lovely cuddle from Rachel

The cake - chocolate, chocolate and more chocolate! Our table had some of the dark bottom layer and it was amazing.

The obligatory wedding photo - with someone else's back in it

Expert cutlass-wielding by the happy couple

Kitty enjoying yet more cuddles, this time from me (and full credit to H for taking the first ever photo in which I'm in focus!)

And now we come to the most serious set of photos. Mary has been slaving away over her needles for months now making small purple rectangles, and we at last got to see them in all their glory:

As sails on the pirate ships that decorated every table

They all had different cable patterns and looked fantastic

Especially when followed by a wake of chocolate coins or a treasure chest.

As I've said before it was just right and our little family wishes you all the best as you set sail together (it wouldn't be me if I didn't go for the obvious pun would it!)

Twinned with Wolverhampton

2011-05-20T21:26:00.000Z

We've just got back from a wonderful six days in a stunningly beautiful city:

H's art teacher has an apartment in one of the outer islands of Venice and we travelled with a whole group of his fellow artists (and travelling spouses) for a three day outdoor sketching class, although we added in a little extra time to spend time as a family and for some flights expressly designed to coincide with Kitty's nap schedule (such as it is)

Venice is loud and peaceful and busy and relaxed and always always colourful and as I want to do it justice I might have to do a little judicious dividing so that this doesn't end up being the world's longest blog post ever and crash the internets. (That and we live in a tiny village about as far away from the exchange as possible and Flickr and our broadband service must be allowed to commune for a while).

I want to say that Venice is unique, that if you were plopped there suddenly you'd know exactly where you were in the world but because it's so low rise, all the buildings apart from churches and the occasional tower are about the same height or slightly lower, when you look across a canal it seems 2D; there's just nothing behind it to give perspective. Looking down the Grand Canal from the Accademia Bridge on the first evening we both decided that we were either in Venice, or on a really big film set, or possibly some casino in Vegas which H says has a mini Venice complete with canal all in a really big shed.

What you can't replicate on a film set is the atmosphere (and the smells). It might be warm breezes and bright sunshine going to my head but Venice seemed to us to have a very laid back atmosphere and with all of its little passages and twisty corners with a flash of water at the end it reminded me so much of Dartmouth (the nearest town to my parents in Devon); sea air, a relaxed attitude to life, and the kind of light that you only get where the sky bounces off sea, and stone, and pale painted houses.

The buildings in Venice are beautiful in a 'chabby chic' kind of way.

The underlying building will have classic proportions and graceful arches down to a boat dock, but then the paint's peeling on one side and the shutters are worn and faded. And then you've got the graffiti. I don't know whether it's the locals, or tourists deciding to make their mark but just about every building has spray paint swirls along it somewhere

and the bridges are all 'tagged' with little padlocks with names and dates.

I initially thought they were for artists to lock their bags to while they painted masterpieces but H assures me that it's the 'yoof' of today (and yes, I am almost 31, I can call teenagers 'yoof' from a verified position of antiquity).

Kitty and I went to Piazza San Marco on our first morning and found it hot, crowded, dirty and full of people milling about, people queueing to get into something special or people queueing to queue. We gave it a wide berth after that until Sunday morning when H had a cunning plan and got us up at 5.30 to go and see the Piazza properly.

It was cloudy and cool but it was also almost empty and we finally got the chance to see it as the architecture intended, and after H finished a quick sketch, and took a hundred or so pictures on my camera, we slipped through those enormous heavy doors for the 7am Mass at San Marco's. I know that the sermon included the Italian for all (tutti), St John (San Giovanni) and St Mark (San Marco) but other than that I couldn't tell you what it was about. Kitty on the other hand thought it was marvellous. So marvellous in fact that she started to chatter back (and at that point we made a reverent but hasty exit).

To be honest we were so busy in the weeks leading up to our trip that we hadn't done the prep work we usually would have done and we entered Venice with some brief instructions on how to find the water bus from the airport and a small pocket Italian phrase book. By that point I'd made a conscious decision that I wasn't going to go here there and everywhere and try to cram every museum, every important building, and every painting into a five day trip. For one thing, Venice is a bit keen on buggy defying bridges and so by the time I had Kitty loaded in the carrier on my front and a backpack on the other side to carry the changing bag, and the suncream and the water and the baby water and a snack and the phrase book, and then the camera slung off to one side, I looked far too much like a pack pony to want to meander around a gallery.

Instead we didn't bother with a map but set off in whatever direction we fancied, relying on the fact that Venice is a four direction city; there may be lots of little alleys but you're always turning at right angles so it you have a relatively good sense of direction and a good visual memory for places that you've been then you can't get lost.The only exception was a trip with Kitty to the Peggy Guggenheim collection. Not what you'd expect in Venice but a really good collection of modern art - more on that another day.

One of the things we loved about our wandering was finding little quirky bits of Venice.

Many of the window boxes overflowed with scarlet geraniums and may well have converted me to their merits, and that I'm confident I could grow successfully.

I don't think anyone owns a whole house in Venice, it's all apartment buildings with gorgeous shiny brass doorbells

to make a silly self portrait.

Our hotel was on a little side canal on Dosoduro that ran from the Grand Canal down to Zattere (that's the view from our balcony on the first morning) and it was a perfect location, quiet and calm and out of the tourist bussle and yet five minutes from the bridge over to the exciting touristy bits and a quick walk down to Zattere where we sat on the seafront every night trying out a variety of restaurants for supper. It was the Hotel American Dinesin and I cannot praise them highly enough. We had a cot in out room for Kitty and every morning the maids would make up her bed and arrange her teddies in a little circle at one end for her, and in the breakfast room they brought us a really nice high chair with a decent tray and asked us whether there was anything special they could get her. It's fair to say she had them wrapped around her little finger.

Actually I think most of the Italians we met adored our little girl, we could scarecely go a 100 yards in some places without someone saying what a pretty baby she was (bella bambina), asking her name or age or tickling her feet. Kitty and I met one older gentleman on a ferry one morning who rescued her hat from flying off into the canal and H got a huge surprise later that evening when we walked past him again in front of a bar and he rushed up to say hello again.

Zattere is the bottom of one of the main islands of Venice and it runs as a long seafront all the way from the entrance to the grand canal and San Salute to the port for the cruise ships at the other. We tried to eat up by the Rialto bridge one night but it was too crazy busy and after waiting for what felt like hours for service we scooted back to one of our favourites.

Most of the restaurants have very little space inside and we ate on pontoons built out into the canal. It's much more glamourous than it sounds I promise.

And as the sun set we could watch the skies and see the lights come on across the way and it was perfect. I can see why it's such a honeymoon destination, and we could spot the honeymoon couples a mile away (hand in hand, he dressed normally, she in something chic - usually a smart dress and pretty sandals) but I think it was great for our little family.

I'll come back another time to show and tell more about the food because that deserves a post of it's own, but for know all I have to say if that if you don't know Wolverhampton let's just say it's punching above its weight.

A moment in time

2011-05-10T21:20:00.000Z

Sunday afternoon; Kitty watching Mummy and Daddy (mostly Daddy) construct a new veggie bed in the front garden.

7 Months, 14 days, 23 hours

2011-05-06T17:42:00.000Z

If you had to choose a word to describe our last couple of weeks I think it would be 'unsettled'. Miss Kitty started her settling in sessions at nursery to get ready for me to go back to work and although her first two trips went really well, the rest have been 10 minutes of fun and then inconsolable tears until Mama reappears. It's the most upset she's ever been and it just about broke my heart. So, with a little hasty maths and a few phone calls we've delayed my start date and the little Miss now has almost 2 months to find her feet. If she isn't happy and letting me leave her by the middle of June we can have a re-think but for now that's the plan.

In all of the flurry of being at nursery and the tears and clinging afterwards (from both of us) I completely ran out of time for madam's month-birthday post. So here we are at 7 months, 14 days, 23 hours.

Well we know what you don't like at the moment. You unequivocally do not like to be separated from Mummy at nursery, especially if it's also the morning (that's a smidge of your Daddy's personality coming through I suspect). It makes you an unhappy little girl and that's not OK by anyone so we're going to take it slow and see how you go.

But as for what you do like..

Well you continue to adore swimming. We went this morning and you had a whale of a time, splashing with both hands and giggling when we jumped up and down. Your friends Isabelle and Tess come too and the three of you are real little water babies.

This month you really mastered sitting up, and you're getting more and more stable every day, although I'm going to keep putting cushions behind you for a little while yet, just in case of a wobble. Being so much higher you can really play with your toys rather than just looking at them and you really love your teddies.

You've also been working on the rolling and you cover the carpet at some speed; I don't think it will be long before you're crawling.

Last weekend we went to see Daddy's cousin H to help with a little revision for her exams and you loved having cuddles and playing in the garden in her study breaks (and Mummy loved eating Aunt M-L's homemade cake), and yesterday Grandma and Grandad popped in on their way back from Bristol and you had a wonderful time playing 'flying baby' with Grandad.

You've been having food of your own for over a month now and you're certain that anything edible is your to eat - we can't eat anything in front of you if we can't give you some, or something else of your own - and I'm getting used to sharing all of my fruit (particularly plums and strawberries). This morning it was blueberries and pears - I think you liked it!

All in all you remain our pride and joy and we love you more than we could ever tell you.

Love Mama and Daddy xxxxxxx

Dressed like a princess

2011-04-29T21:26:00.000Z

My Great Aunt Marjorie was an ardent royalist; if there was a tea-towel worthy event she had the tea towel and the biscuit tin, and possibly even the tea cup. When she moved to a retirement home from her little house in Bungalowland, Bournemouth, among the things that she left were two massive binders of a 50 something part series of periodicals on every possible branch of the Royal family. They came home with us and my sister and I spent hours pouring over every detail of the spreads of Diana's evening dresses ( many of which were lovingly recreated in pencil crayon for our paper dolls), or the Queen as a young mother, or working out exactly how the Dukes of Kent and Gloucester are related to the Queen and why Princess Michael is called Princess Michael.

It's left me with a random font of useless information about the Royal family and a deep affection for all things pomp and circumstance and so from the moment that I got up at Kitty o'clock this morning, the telly has been on to watch all the coverage on the beeb. It was a lovely day and a lovely wedding for a couple that seem truly committed to one another.

Just as H and I have no recollection of Charles and Diana's wedding (we were just 1), Kitty is unlikely to recall anything of today in her long term memory but that seems to be no reason why she shouldn't dress up and enjoy it. And yes, that does mean that it's totally appropriate to eat breakfast in your pyjamas and tiara I'm sure that's what all the real princesses do ...

And after breakfast and before the ceremony started we whisked upstairs to put on our wedding finery. I went all out and wore the pair of jeans that fits me and a shirt which at that stage of the day had yet to be blessed with smears of various partially masticated foods, and Kitty, well, Kitty stole the show:

Although her real name isn't Kitty (the fake name is for her privacy seeing as she isn't old enough to choose for herself) you knew it was only a matter of time before I found a good t-shirt with her pseudonym and what better occasion than a wedding.

When it was chilly she had a red cardie to put on over the top, and she has worn both blue and white and red and white stripy socks at intervals. With the tiara to complete the look I think she's definitely a fashion hit!

I'm not sure what she made of the service but she loved all the horses in the parade, and as you can see it's a miracle any of the photos are in focus as she bounced around on Daddy's lap the whole time.

This afternoon we had a street party in my road and as I had Kitty in my arms I haven't got a single photo to show for it so I'm hoping the neighbours will send me theirs soon. We attempted to transform Kitty's buggy into the 1902 Landau by adding a little Union Flag helium balloon to the front and swags of red ribbon along the sides and then Millie (age about 7) nipped home and lent us two pink my little ponies to tuck on the front so that it was horse drawn.

We had a BBQ, Bucks Fizz, sandwiches, party food and cake and then we all lined up for a group photo for posterity. A lovely afternoon and a great celebration.

Under blue skies

2011-04-23T21:44:00.000Z

Well it's been quite a week. The unseasonal heat remains omnipresent and oppressive with my car thermometer hitting 27 and Kitty's bedroom egg glowing an fiery red 25 (and that's in the shade and with the curtains permanently drawn to bounce the heat back out again). When dressed appropriately and with easy access to showers, ice-cubes and the Cornettos with the raspberry sauce down the middle it's been pretty nice and we've been out and about to enjoy it.

This week not only saw Kitty discover strawberries but also reach the grand old age of 7 months on 21st , and H and I turned 5 yesterday, 5 years of marriage that is, adding up to a wonderful 12 and a bit years together. The boy has been off work this week so we've been out and about in the sunshine.

Yesterday we went to the pool to cool off at the end of the afternoon; Kitty thinks swimming is wonderful and is starting to co-ordinate some forceful frog kicks, she's clearly turning out to be a little water baby like her Mama. H and I passed her back and forth between us so that we could both go on the water slide - and yes we're both 30 and we both think water slides are fun. Actually I think it might be that we've both got a bit bigger than the last time we went on a slide and the added momentum made it a lot faster than I was expecting. It'll be a few years and another 25cm before Kitty can come on the slide with us but I think she'll love it.

In all of this I've done a little work on the knitting I showed you at the bottom of the last post, it's the Bellyphant Baby Cardigan for Kitty in Baby Cashmerino; I've finished both sleeves and just joined them to the body to do the raglan shaping, and I've been sitting at my spinning wheel in the conservatory under the fan, or in the cool of the morning with Kitty while H has a little catch up sleep.

I'm trying to work my way through my fibre stash in some sort of order, I've got some natural coloured wools that came from Wingham Woolworks that I'm saving for practice spinning, a bag with the fibre from the Socktopus fibre club, and a bag with the fibre from last year's Knit Nation. The Wingham bag I can park until I need it but I'm trying to finish the Socktopus bag before the Knit Nation Bag.

I'd spun up some Polworth and some fluffy angora/wool mix a while back but the rest of the six parcels had sat in the bag waiting for inspiration. I did a little lucky dip and pulled out this:

It's pencil roving and by dint of it being the only loose label in the bag I declare it to be Knitwitches. Beyond that I have no recollection of the details but my guess is 100% wool.

I'd not played with pencil roving before and it is great fun because you aren't constantly stopping to break off another length, and as it's been dyed like that it has enough hold not to fall apart if you need to move it around.

I split it in three and spun for a DK weight 3ply et voila

DK-ish!

The daisy by the way was from H; we were reading a wedding anniversary website to find out what five years should be (wood), and it listed the appropriate gem (Sapphire), modern present (cutlery) and flower (daisy), so H picked me one from the lawn before he mowed it.

The plan is that this will become something for Kitty, I've got 188 yards of the 3ply and another 30 yards of chain-plied leftovers, and she's now wearing a 12 month size so I'm thinking of either another Milo or something like this but I'm not sure that I've got enough yardage.

In the meantime the wheel seems a little empty so I popped my hand in and found ...

It's from the Yarn Yard, 70/30 Alpaca/Merino and I'm spinning it as a DK ish singles.

Why is it that whenever I decide to do a singles or a navajo ply I start to think it would look better as a marled 3ply and whenever I do the 3ply and chain ply the leftovers I think it would have looked better all chain plied - it's a mystery.

Clara

2011-04-19T21:14:00.000Z

The sun was hot, the day was still, and I've been out and about with my camera for a little finished project photo shoot.

The project in question is of course Clara, sat patiently on the dresser for almost a week waiting for a sunny day to coincide with enough free time to play with the camera.

I made a few amendments to the original pattern; I wanted to use up as much yarn as possible so I knit the garter section until I had 46 of my 113g skein left in the ball. The original had used 50g for the garter and had 25g left on the skein afterwards but either the maths doesn't quite work, or there was a bit more than 100g on Sarah's skein as I ran out on the lace pattern with three rows to go so I pulled back three rows on the final set of arches to make it all fit and ended up with about a metre left over.

The design is by the very talented Sarah and knit as part of a knitalong with the girls of the Healing after Pregnancy Loss group on Ravelry; a kind of woolly group uniform for the only club where we all hope the membership never increases. It honours the children we didn't get to know (in particular Sarah's daughter Clara, after whom the shawl is named) and a phenomenal group of women who I am proud to consider my friends.

If you like the pattern Sarah will be selling it here shortly to benefit March of Dimes

All in all it's a gorgeous squishy little shawl/scarf that will be perfect for keeping me toasty warm should that ever be a requirement again - at the moment I strongly suspect we are having our summer so we're all rattling through the summer clothes before it's too late.

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on the season, our house holds heat so even though the sun's been below the horizon for a while, the thermometer in Kitty's room still glows an angry red and gives me a frown face. As her summer weight sleeping bag needed a good soak this morning before it met the washing machine this afternoon she's had to go to bed in her winter weight one - dressed in a short-sleeved vest, pyjama shorts and a cropped long sleeved cotton cardigan to try to keep both tummy and arms at a comfortable temperature.

But as Kitty has developed a charming habit of growing effortlessly out of her clothes while they're in the washing machine so that all of her sleeves are 3/4 length, and this little summer transplanted to spring is never going to last, I've done a little casting on:

Sunshine on my window

2011-04-14T17:32:00.000Z

I am utterly unashamed of my absence from the internets this last week; the weather has been glorious and as this is/was our summer it seemed only right to enjoy it to the full.

Being on maternity leave and looking after Kitty is the very best job in the world and I wouldn't swap a minute of it but it can have it's own challenges, not as intellectually demanding as my paying job I grant you, but perhaps more physically demanding with nights interspersed with the adrenaline rush that hits as soon as a little whimper comes through from the nursery, not to mention the serious biceps I'm building humping around 20ish pounds of wriggly child. But every now and then we have a day so fun that it clears away all the sleepiness, days that it's going to break my heart to miss when I go back to work. And so it was that we ignored the dishes waiting to be washed in the kitchen, shut the door firmly on the ironing pile and spread a quilt in the back garden for our playtime.

Needless to say, my little outdoor girl is a big fan of the garden. She wriggled around on her tummy until she could tickle her toes with the grass, and rolled over to see the birds and the tops of the trees and the one helicopter that skittered across our little patch of sky.

I don't quite trust her not to eat any flowers, and as I'm almost certain that tulips are not on the edible flowers list we just admired them from a distance and played with a very chewable flower instead:

It giggles too!

And while littlest miss enjoyed her teddies and the great outdoors I picked up the needles for the first time in a while. Kitty as you see, found this ever so exciting and can be seen making a bid for the yarn; once she's got hold of it she'll stick her little fingers straight in and wiggle them about - H thinks she's trying to knit.

The knitting in question was my Clara shawl in the Soccusu-X which Alice sent me as a prize for naming the colourway - JMW's Rain Wind and Wool (and yes the pun was totally intentional)

It's a sweet pattern with special significance and the yarn is just divine; it's soft and lovely and there's cashmere ...(all together now say "oooooooh"). Clearly I'm not the only one with good taste in yarn as it attracted this little fellow along the way.

Given that ladybirds are considered to be a symbol both of good luck and motherhood it seemed like a good omen for one to land while I was playing with my daughter.

The shawl is now finished and even blocked but as the beautiful sunshine has deserted us, and I even think I heard thunder earlier it's staying safely inside until I can find a good time to take pretty pictures.

I've got one more set of pictures from the other day, especially for Kitty's GodDaddy and Miss L who gave her the cutest, cuddliest little bunny for Christmas called Blossom:

Now that looks like a yummy little ear...

chewing teddies is fun

Needless to say Miss Blossom is Kitty's favourite friend.

Time for cake

2011-04-06T20:23:00.000Z

After all of that crazy rushing at the end of last week we came home and set ourselves up in the kitchen to get ready for everyone coming at the weekend, and lo there was cake:

Raspberry Marscapone layer cake (recipe from Annie Bell's Gorgeous Cakes book)

It's three layers of almond whisked egg sponge with a raspberry/icing sugar/marscapone mixture in the middle and pink icing on top - I love this cake unreservedly.

And next up

Courgette cake (from Nigella's Domestic Goddess)

The last time I made this cake I didn't have any lemon or lime curd so I just put some of the top frosting (cream cheese, icing sugar and lime juice) in the middle and I think I prefer it that way. With the lemon curd in the middle it's still delicious but the tartness of the lemon can be too strong a flavour and overpowers the courgette.

Mmmmmm - cake!

Radio silence

2011-04-05T21:07:00.000Z

I didn't actually mean to go missing last week, actually I never do, but this time it wasn't just a case of the days slipping away from me, and nothing terribly exciting happening in the daily round of cuddles, nursing and nappy changes, this time I was knitting.

Full speed.

All out.

In just about any moment I had.

A good friend and collegue of mine is expecting her first baby in May, and as babies should always be greeted with knitwear, I knew I was going to knit her something at some point. What I didn't quite realise was that as she has her whole holiday allowance to take before her maternity leave starts, she was going to finish work last week.

On Monday morning I discovered her last day was last Friday, and on Monday afternoon I started knitting. We'd talked a while ago about what she might like for the bump and the plan was to knit for her baby the things I've found most useful with my baby. And so, first on the needles, and no prizes for guessing this, the ubiquitous Baby Surprise Jacket.

I've knit this pattern nine times now but it wasn't until Kitty arrived that I realised just how great a baby knit it is; the lack of seams make the arm holes really flexible for easing little new baby arms in to, the sleeves are the perfect length and the whole thing grows nicely with the baby - Kitty wore hers home from the hospital and was still wearing it at Christmas, long after she'd grown out of her vests and babygros.

The multicoloured bit is Opal 6-ply (colour 2020) and the yellow is my favourite Baby Cashmerino. After a long hunt for good buttons I found these little ladybirds in the sewing shop in Kenilworth and knew that they would be perfect as ladybirds are supposed to be good luck and symbolic of motherhood. They also fit through the button holes which I'll admit was a key selling point.

So by this point we've got to Wednesday night in the knitting marathon (although the buttons and the sewing up had to wait until Thursday lunchtime)

I picked up the empty needles on Wednesday and made ...

... a hat to match. It's a free Ravelry pattern (called Baby Beanie) that I discovered when I was looking for a quick little hat pattern fairly late on in my pregnancy to whip something up to match the green cardie that would be Kitty's first knit. It was the first hat she ever wore, and when all the other oh so beautiful, cute and funny hats turned out to be too small for a little head that firmly hit the 95th centile (and yes 'ouch' is the correct response) it was the hat that I pulled out of the pile every time we left the house. It grew with her until Christmas and even now the second hat that I made with slightly thicker yarn just about fits, although she's got other bigger hat for day to day.

And the best bit? that little loop - you can pull on the loop and ease the hat off a sleeping baby's head without waking her up, and for that I love it.

I cast off on Thursday morning before knitting and sewed in the ends at lunchtime and then both the cardie and the hat had a nice soak in some wool wash and a blow dry on the line.

And were we done? Oh no, that would be too clever. I cast on:

Three baby bibs, from the Mason-Dixon pattern, knit in a new-to-me yarn, Twilleys Freedom Sincere organic cotton dk. It's a lovely yarn and on 4.5mm needles it knit up to a nice soft drapy fabric, perfect for wiping little baby faces, and the garter ridges are great for catching drool and posset before it runs off the bib onto the baby, you, the sofa, the floor, etc etc etc (guess how I know this!).

I cast off the stripy bib first thing Friday morning and set the poppers quickly before everything was wrapped up into a little goody bag with some other useful new Mummy things (New Mama tea, a water bottle that you can flip up with one hand, and some essential chocolate) and headed to Birmingham.

It was lovely to see the team again, and the mama-to-be (who has the neatest little bump you've ever seen) and I think she liked her presents although I know she's unlikely to 'get' some of them until after the baby makes an appearance but it was great to be able to spoil someone who helped to spoil me back in the summer.