It was Burns’ Night last night, the annual celebration of Robert Burns, the Scottish Bard. It all started when a group of his friends got together in 1801, five years after his passing, to celebrate his life and work. Over time, the custom spread worldwide. Dinners are held on 25 January, or the nearest convenient date, and the traditional fare is haggis, neeps, and tatties. I didn’t pipe in the haggis or recite poetry, but haggis and tatties were on the menu. The haggis was, of course, vegetarian.
First snowdrops
The highlight of the week was spotting the first snowdrops. They’re just starting to bloom along the riverside path. That was on Monday, before the weather became too vile for walks. And vile was the right word for it – strong blustery winds and piercing rain. I’ve taken advantage of this to concentrate on sewing. I’ve nearly finished a jumper/pinafore, which only lacks a hem. The garment needs to hang a few days prior to hemming, as the skirt is largely on the bias. If it’s not hung and allowed to ‘drop’, it will drop and cause unevenness later. For this project, I’ve learned how to install an invisible zipper, using on-line videos. There have been a few mistakes, too, that needed amending. There seems to be at least one in every garment. Unpicking was tedious – the garment is black with black thread.
Rain on the window
On Tuesday, I visited the orchestra’s First Oboe, for a section practice. We played through some of the latest orchestra music which includes pieces from Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. In one of the pieces, we’re cygnets. In future, we hope to work on duets when she can find them in her stash. The only ones she could lay her hands on were far too difficult for me! We both enjoyed our session, and plan to repeat it regularly.
Bridge & Heron
The knitting and I went down a fork in the road this past week or so. We went a good distance along the path, realised it wouldn’t arrive at our destination, and had to backtrack. The result of any creative endeavour is the product of many micro-decisions along the way, and in this case I’d not heeded the roadmap. The problem was the first panel of diamonds. Instead of following the chart and doing three diamonds vertically, I’d done four. I nearly ripped out ten rows when I noticed, but decided to keep going. When I finished the next moss band, however, I realised that ripping in the first place would have been better than ripping now. If not, the next diamond panel would be only two diamonds tall, and the yoke would be unbalanced. So on Saturday night I frogged it back to the third diamond. But do not fret, I’ve already re-knit half of the unpicked rows. It’s a lesson I can’t seem to learn – pay attention to the plan, and stick to it!
A few days ago, I walked up the riverside path to the end. Last Monday, the beginning of the path had been flooded due to snowmelt and rain. I didn’t expect to get very far, but river levels have dropped enough that I was able to make it to the mound at the end. This small hillock is covered on one slope with gorse, which covers it in yellow blossom in the late spring. Next to the gorse, stone steps lead up to the top, which is on a level with the countryside beyond. On the top, there is a tiny clearing behind the gorse, with three large flat boulders perfect for sitting on. I usually stop here with a flask of coffee, looking at the clouds and listening to the birds.
it was a frosty morning.
The path along the riverside was clear, apart from water-borne drifts of last year’s dried grasses. It was like walking on a deep, spongy carpet. As I walked back, I noticed a willow sapling growing out of a ditch. It had clumps of grass leaves in its upper branches, about six feet above the level of the path. I had no idea it would get this deep, but then, I usually turn back when the water level is above the tops of my shoes.
As I’ve been in a sewing mood recently, I spent more time this week on the lounge floor. Two tops were laid out, cut, and even sewn. Garments are certainly quicker to assemble when the seam allowances don’t need finishing. For non-sewers, I’ll elaborate. When you sew two pieces of fabric together using a conventional sewing machine, the edges – the seam allowances – are on the inside of the garment. If this fabric frays easily, the edges should be finished so the garment doesn’t eventually fall apart. This involves more ironing and sewing, meaning the seam is sewn at least twice – once for the seam and again to finish the edges. But an overlocker finishes, sews, and trims the edges at the same time, and on top of that sews faster than a regular sewing machine. This works particularly well with knit fabric. With woven fabric, the edges can be overlocked first and then seamed on a regular machine.
Another pattern was printed and assembled too, and then the fabric and pattern laid and cut. Due to a single layer layout, the fabric needed to be shifted and realigned three times, due to a lack of floor space. Most home sewing patterns have the fabric doubled. It was tedious but necessary.
Wrack on the fence
But despite not wanting to step away from the sewing, good progress has been achieved with the knitting. The second of the pattern bands on the yoke is done. The diamonds form pleasing textural ups-and-downs. These don’t appear on the original photo, leaving me to believe that I’ve probably not charted it correctly. But given the lack of detail in the photo, there’s probably no way it could be charted ‘correctly’.
Last week, the weather was so inclement that I rarely crossed the threshold. On Tuesday, during a slight thaw, I strapped on my ice grips and slushed to the supermarket. It seemed safer than digging out the car and negotiating the stone pillars at the end of the unplowed driveway. But the sidewalks were clear enough that I came back without the grips, carefully. I haven’t felt shut in even though the museum was closed and handbell and orchestra practices cancelled. I’ve been enjoying my extra week off.
W I P
A significant part of the time has been spent crawling on the lounge floor. Firstly, it’s because the dining table is covered in stuff. Secondly, because I bought some sewing patterns online, and they were PDFs, as is the modern way. On the plus side, you get your pattern immediately and can print only the size you need. On the negative side, after pages are printed you have to stick them all together. While they should have registration marks to align them, on the first pattern they were outside the print area. I devised a template to show where the marks should be, and this helped. The second pattern had clear registration marks, but the pattern booklet didn’t say how to assemble the pages. Should I line up the red lines, or the green diamonds? The internet confirmed it was the green diamonds. The third pattern had clear registration marks and comprehensive assembly instructions, but the marks sometimes disappeared behind the pattern’s printing.
Winter sunrise
Partway through the third pattern, the tape ran out and I resorted to a glue pen. This proved to be quicker. There was no fiddling with long lengths of tape, hoping it wouldn’t stick to itself or to the wrong place on the paper. The technique I used to align the pages was to place foam squares on the floor, pierce a hole in the registration marks and align them to the neighbouring sheet, then pin them down. Once aligned, it was a simple matter to tape the pages together, or gluing by lifting an edge, applying glue, and laying the edge back down. Then I cut out the pattern pieces. Given the amount of time it took aligning and affixing, next time I will seriously consider sending them off to be printed.
Snow textures
When I wasn’t scrabbling on the floor, I did manage to get some knitting done. As expected, progress has slowed, but this is mostly due to knitting less. The yoke is well under way, and the first pattern band of blocks of K3 P3 has been completed. In one more row, the gusset will be half done. The change in the pattern to an equal mix of knits and purls made the knitting feel a bit ‘sloppy’, so I’ve changed down to a 2mm needle to combat any widening tendencies. I’m not sure whether it’s the needle itself or its size, but it feels much better now.
I hope you all had a relaxing few weeks. I did not accomplish everything I hoped during the break, like writing and mailing Christmas cards, darning moth holes, or even cleaning. But I did at least do Christmas e-cards, which takes a lot of stress out of the whole business as you can leave them to the last minute or even the day itself. I did do more baking and cooking than usual, however – orange and ginger amaretti biscuits, chocolate chip cookies to use up the egg yolks left over from the amaretti, cranberry sauce and a store-bought vegetarian roast for a Christmas eve dinner. Finally, I frosted the Christmas cake.
New Year’s Eve sunset
Christmas day was quiet. I opened my two presents – a needle book from a friend, and a new sewing machine from Santa. In truth, of course, I bought the machine. The necessity of buying your own Christmas presents is slightly depressing. There’s no mystery about what’s hidden in the wrappings, or surprise on opening the gift. But I keep in mind that the funds for the present came from Gordon’s pension, and overlook the mystery to remember, and be thankful for, the ongoing care it represents.
Much of the recent spare time has been spent on the internet, much for learning about the new sewing machine. I’d set it up right away, but it’s an overlocker/serger, a type of machine that was new to me, and frankly I was a bit scared of it. My first attempts using only the manual were not successful. One series of online videos, for a different make of machine, demystified serging, but the constant changing of tension dials was intimidating. The next video I watched was for ‘my’ machine, and that’s when the penny dropped. My problem had been thread tension, and this video made clear that there were additional thread guides/tension dials behind the machine, which I’d completely missed in the manual’s diagrams. With that problem solved, I worked through all the stitch combinations and have succeeded in making a pair of leggings.
Snow on the skylight
The 2nd of January was the museum open day, which I attended to help the Johnston group print photos. One of the star attractions of the event is giving folk an opportunity to dress up in Victorian garb and have their photo taken in the ‘Johnston Studio’. Of course the photography is digital, but the props and backdrops are from the original studio. Knowing that attendance would be down this year, due to the weather – snow showers started on New Year’s and haven’t stopped since – I’d taken the gansey along. I knit until my fingers hurt.
Winter sunset by the Soldiers’ Tower monument
Apart from the open day and trying to fathom the new machine, I’ve been watching too much TV and knitting a lot. Yesterday a milestone was achieved – I am now ready to start the yoke. Needless to say, I am very pleased with the progress, as it was cast on only three and a half weeks ago. Progress will now slow, but if the snow keeps up . . .
It’s been another week with a busy second half. Monday was the regular shift at the museum. I’ve returned to charting after a few months of editing upon finding that I’d missed some photos. This week I charted a photo of two ganseys which both seem to have standard moss stitch yokes. However, on closer inspection, they are more nuanced. One has a yoke of three horizontal bands, and each band has a staggered pattern of K3 P3 rows separated by a knit row. Each band is bordered by K and P rows. The other has a yoke pattern of K one row, K3 P3 one row, K one row, P one row. On the next repeat, the K3 is placed over the P3 of the previous repeat.
(c) Wick Heritage Society. Used with permission.
On Wednesday, I strolled to the shops to buy mouse bait. Alas, it was early closing day and the ironmongers was shut. The nearest alternative was a chain hardware store about a mile away, and off I trod. After procuring the bait, I visited the supermarket next to it for marzipan and fondant icing for a small Christmas cake. I searched through the store twice but couldn’t find marzipan. I asked at the till, searched again, and still no marzipan. It transpired that the till attendant hadn’t realised the difference between fondant and marzipan and had been directing me to the fondant.
I haven’t been for walks much lately . . .
Reasoning I could make an alternative or do without, I headed home, until I realised that another supermarket was only a few steps out of the way. Thankfully, they had both fondant and marzipan, and my errands were complete.
Thursday was also busy, with an early start to drive to Inverness for the appointment with the consultant dermatologist. It was a lovely day for a drive, with sun overhead and low cloud on the horizon, meaning I wasn’t blinded by the low sun while driving south. The dermatologist has been given the all clear after a full body check. Of course, I still need to take care in the sun and be vigilant for any skin changes.
Layby with a view
I arrived home early enough to have a short nap before the first of two Christmas concerts in the evening. The orchestra participated in a joint carol concert with the Wick Choral Society and a local primary school choir. The hall was full, with few empty seats, and I played more notes than expected. The second concert was Sunday afternoon in Thurso.
That’s breakfast sorted
While I’ve been busy most days, the evenings are still gansey knitting time. The 3” welt is complete, and I’ve started the gentle ribbing of the body. As with the most recent blue gansey, the body pattern is both mindful and mindless, K5 P1, K5 P1, K5 P1 . . . there’s not even a break at the side ‘seams’, because the repeat fits exactly in the number of stitches.
I’ll be having a short break until 5 January – so Happy Christmas to you and yours, and I hope Santa fills your stockings with lots of squishy wool!
It was Burns’ Night last night, the annual celebration of Robert Burns, the Scottish Bard. It all started when a group of his friends got together in 1801, five years after his passing, to celebrate his life and work. Over time, the custom spread worldwide. Dinners are held on 25 January, or the nearest convenient date, and the traditional fare is haggis, neeps, and tatties. I didn’t pipe in the haggis or recite poetry, but haggis and tatties were on the menu. The haggis was, of course, vegetarian.
