...something different

I'm back at work tomorrow, and I can't say I'm looking forward to picking up where I left off. The older I get the harder it is to hit the ground running! Still, we've made the most of our week off and even got through most of the jobs on our household to-do list. 

Over the past two days I've also been getting crafty, designing and making a decorative clip-on accessory for turning a napkin into a bib! My friend's getting married next Saturday, and she's worried about spilling food on her dress during the wedding breakfast, so I said I would make something pretty and bridal to hold her napkin in place. This is what I came up with:

It's a white organza ribbon with pearl beads in shades of blue (to match the bridesmaids' dresses) threaded on to it, with clips at both ends. It goes around the neck and then clips to the corners of the napkin to hold it in place over the bosom area! I made the little beaded/embroidered felt corsage to match the flowers in her bouquet (sunflowers and thistles) and attached it to the clip on the right hand side as a finishing touch. 

It may not be everyone's notion of bridal chic, but my friend has a great sense of humour and it's a pretty but practical solution to a genuine problem! Plus the ribbon can be removed after the wedding and the corsage can then be worn as a clip-on brooch.

The best thing about this project was the creative thinking and problem solving involved in making it up as I went along. I had some fluffy purple novelty yarn that I knew would be ideal for the thistle head, and spotted the green knobbly bead when I was shopping for the pearls. I used a wire beading needle with a collapsible 'eye' to thread the yarn through the bead and then wrapped the 'stem' with green embroidery thread. I Googled 'thistle leaves' to get a rough idea of the shape and then cut them out freehand along with the sunflower (two overlapping circles with petal shapes snipped into the outer edge). Once I'd sewn the bead 'seeds' to the centre of the sunflower I soaked the leaves and petals in watered down Mod Podge to make them a little stiffer and more durable. This worked really well, and helped add a little 3D curl to the petals. I originally drew the veining on the leaf with a Sharpie, but decided it would look nicer picked out in backstitch. I used a darker yellow Sharpie to give depth to the petals, but in hindsight I think watercolour paint would have been better for adding shading/detail to both leaves and petals, especially if applied while they were still damp. 

Next time that's what I'll do. I enjoyed this little project so much that there will definitely be a next time. Maybe not for a bridal clip-on napkin accessory (it's kind of a niche OOAK item), but definitely for a pretty little beaded/embroidered felt brooch. Just imagine this in brooch form:

Delicious! But for now it's getting late, and I have to be up early, so here's a serendiptous rainbow-tinted photo from this morning's walk at the park, and then it's time for bed. 

...time off

It's Friday afternoon and we're coming to the end of a lovely week of time off from work. We've checked out the charity shops and mostly managed to resist bringing more stuff home - apart from...

...a spotty scarf, a wooden block picture puzzle to go in my bag of tricks for work, and an ancient knitting encyclopaedia - illustrated with drawings, not photos - with the most delightfully twee front cover. I did try hard to resist the knitting encyclopaedia, as I know the chances of me actually referring to it are so remote...but that cover! It was only £2.99 after all...and just look at that cover!

We've had a walk at our favourite local park, formerly a golf course until a couple of years ago, when the Council decided they could no longer afford the upkeep. Now the cultivated flower garden in the middle of the course contrasts beautifully with the meadow grasses left to grow unchecked on the fairways.

We've had a trip to Ilkley Moor with friends on a cloudy, overcast day - perfect weather for hiking up hill and down dale.

We've had a couple of quiet days, mooching around the house, doing laundry, catching up on odd jobs and cleaning. I hemmed two pairs of page-boy trousers and put darts into a bridesmaid's dress for my friend's wedding. Renewed contents insurance. Applied for a new passport. Worked through the stack of paperwork and unopened letters that tends to accumulate when we're working. Whilst hunting for a stapler I came across a stray bag of wool that had escaped the stash-slashing cull, tucked away on the bottom shelf of a cupboard. 

Golf balls belong to the dog - also stashed as they're
hidden from prying human eyes when the cupboard
door is shut!

I think I must have inherited it from someone as I can't imagine myself ever buying it - it's 100% wool in a really uninspiring beige/grey colour, and quite scratchy in texture. It's still in the cupboard as I type, but its days are numbered because the deciding factor in the keep/discard debate is that it is hand-wash only and therefore kryptonite to me...except that the hoarder in my head has just whispered - "So you could felt it into some kind of beige/grey/wooly thing - like a bag or some slippers..."

This is the same inner hoarder that said, "Use the 20 yr-old turquoise/green cotton yarn with little blobs of bright colours for a baby blanket - don't get rid of it just yet!" Sometimes the hoarder is right - the blanket is now coming along nicely. I've gone for stocking stitch with a simple garter stitch border around the edge. I really like it, - it's bright and jolly, and I think it will just get softer and more comfy with age. So there might be a stay of execution for the beige/grey/scratchy wool too, if the right felting project can be found.

Today we went to Nostell Priory for another walk.

Another really lovely place to be, filling my head with light and space and natural beauty that I can bring to mind when I'm back at work and feeling stressed.

I always feel a bit sad when a period of time off is drawing to a close. But there are still two more days to go, and there are a few more things to do before we re-enter the world of work. Top of my list is a bridal accessory I promised to make for my friend, details of which will hopefully follow in due course...

...reality

A few weeks ago, riding high on the success of my stash slashing endeavours and my new-found resolve to become 'someone who sees things through', I decided to embark on a 'proper' knitter's project, using a beautiful pattern and some equally beautiful yarn. In my head I imagined that this would be the start of a new phase in my life as a knitter. From now on I would no longer need to buy knitwear because all my jumpers and cardigans would be handmade from gorgeous natural fibres - wool, silk, linen - and I would look and feel wonderful in them.

So it seemed perfectly reasonable to use this lovely yarn:

Laceweight Malabrigo 100% merino wool -
"When you experience Malabrigo Lace Baby Merino,
you connect with a special place of the world"

To make this lovely cardigan:

Hannah Fettig - Featherweight

Right from the start the project was dreamy. I loved the seamless top-down construction and the ease with which it could be adjusted according to individual preference - a little longer in the body, a little wider in the collar? No problem, just go for it! Soothing, rhythmic stocking stitch gliding effortlessly from the needles, row after row after row. Even picking up stitches for the collar was simple - 2 stitches for every 3 rows - no maths needed! The finished cardigan really did feel light as a feather and so soft against my skin, and the best thing was - it fit me perfectly! 

I wore it the day after it was finished, and even planned to get my husband to take a photo of me wearing it, I was so pleased with it. 

"Maybe I should wash it and block it a little before taking pictures. A really careful hand-wash in barely lukewarm water with a splash of wool wash, a couple of gentle squeezes before and after rinsing, and then dry it flat on a towel - it will look even better!"

Or not. 

The reality is that the instruction "hand-wash only" has always spelled disaster for me throughout my whole entire life, and all the positive thinking and new beginnings in the world will never change this fact. I don't know what I do wrong, but whenever I attempt to hand-wash anything, however careful I am, the outcome is always the same - a ruined garment! I don't know what possessed me to think that this time would be any different.

So now I have a slightly felted, somewhat shrunken, much less wearable cardigan that will probably become completely unwearable after just one more wash, and all the joy has gone out of it (sad face emoticon). 

However, positive-thinking new-beginning Me (happy face emoticon) has decided that all is not lost and that this whole experience can be reframed as a lesson learned - I just need to use machine-washable yarns in future! The reality is that it's another completed project under my belt, regardless of its longevity.

Better yet, I still have two and a bit left-over skeins of the most gorgeous indigo baby merino lace-weight yarn that (in my hands) instinctively shrinks at the first hint of moisture, so I can play to my strengths and make myself one of these fabulous felted scarves. 

Les Miserables - Cynthia Parker

...tackling the wool stash

According to UsingEnglish.com, "someone who is 'all talk and no trousers' talks about doing big, important things, but doesn't take any action". When it comes to my out-of-control wool stash this phrase just about sums me up - I say I'm going to get on top of it and then I don't.

Now I'm fully aware that 'tackling the wool stash' is not really a big, important thing in the scheme of big, important things, but it is for me. I've known for a long time that it needed tackling, and during that long time have tried (somewhat completely ineffectually) to stop myself adding to it.

Unfortunately, charity shop finds, other people's cast-offs and 'unmissable' bargains have a way of slipping through the net, and somewhere in the small print it seems that 'yarn for projects I really, really want to make' gets a free pass too.  

This parcel (a.k.a. the pink package of joy) contains all the yarn required to make this 'Harmony' crocheted granny-square blanket by Attic24.

I actually feel so guilty about having bought it that I'm not allowing myself to open it! 

So I've decided that today - a lovely Friday when I'm home alone on a much-needed day off from work - I'm going to get to grips with the stash. I guess you could say that after years of PRE-CONTEMPLATION, and quite a few months of CONTEMPLATION, today is the day for ACTION, - although it will need a little bit of PREPARATION to clear the floorspace where the mountain is going to form.

This task is going to involve a lot of gathering, organising, telling the XXSCat dog to "Get off!", and being strict and ruthless with myself. I'm going to sort into different weight yarns and then into colours. I'm going to keep dk and 4ply yarns in assorted shades for small projects, like this:

I'm also going to keep yarn bought for specific projects, especially shawls, scarves, hats etc, as I know I'm more likely to complete them. I'm going to unravel half-finished projects that will never be completed and decide whether I like the yarn enough to keep it to re-use. I'm going to get rid of ugly/uninspiring/second-hand remnants and challenge myself to also get rid of at least some of the stuff that 'might come in handy'. 

It's going to be tough, because I'm very good at thinking up 'might come in handy' ideas as soon as the threat of decluttering looms. For example, I know there is some turquoise/green cotton yarn with little blobs of bright colours in the stash that was going to be a jumper for my middle child over twenty years ago. No sooner had the thought of parting with it crossed my mind than it was superceded by a plan to use it for a baby blanket for a colleague who has just announced her second pregnancy. Even before I've unearthed it from the storage bag I know I will now need to work out whether there is enough of it for a blanket before I can let it go! 

I'm setting myself a modest goal of a minimum of a carrier bag-full to take to the charity shop, but secretly hoping it will be more...and I'm going to stop writing now, because, let's be honest, writing about it isn't doing it!

POST-SCRIPT

So I started with this (spot the XXSCat dog):

Powered through this scary stage:

The XXSCat dog found a comfy crevice to avoid the chaos:

The turquoise/green cotton yarn with little blobs of bright colours was set aside for that baby blanket:

...and a mere seven hours later I am officially a stash-slashing, goal-exceeding champion! 

Stream-lined, vacuum-packed and around 1/3 smaller! Note the now guilt-free 
pink package of joy in the foreground!

All of this is destined for the charity shop...

...and this is dk for my friend's mother

...seeing things through

I actually finished the Weald poncho (from The Knitter magazine, issue 110) in the last couple of weeks. Right down to the tassels! 

Of course it's far too warm to wear now that Spring is edging into Summer - and I'm not entirely sure how flattering a garment it is for my matronly bosom less-than-sylph-like frame - but it is certainly comfortable and cosy enough for me to think I might actually wear it when the weather gets a little cooler. For now I'm mainly focussing on the sense of achievement that comes with having completed it. Right down to the tassels!

This may not seem like that big a deal, but I am the Queen of the Unfinished Project, which makes it a gargantuan deal for me. Right at the very end, during the easy turtle-neck ribbing stage, when the finish-line was literally inches away, I nearly snatched defeat from the jaws of victory by recklessly detouring into a completely different project - a dear little knitted basket... 

"It's only a brief distraction - it's such a simple little project it probably won't take more than an afternoon - it'll make a nice change from the ribbing". 

Famous last words. Hours of increasing discomfort (chunky wool on smallish needles and a very tight basket weave stitch is not kind to wrists) and more than a bit of frustration (repeated trial and error with cast-off edge to get the correct tension for the basket to hold its shape). At one point I was in real danger of having two projects circling the drain. Only the seductive colour and texture kept me going - those gorgeous Monet waterlily hues in the yarn, and the stitches like little brush strokes...

        

I literally pushed through the pain barrier to finish the basket (very pretty but totally impractical, no idea what I'll do with it) and then powered on for a few hours more to complete the poncho. Right down to the tassels!

So I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself. I'm becoming someone who sees things through. Ok, maybe those things are just a tiny frivolous knitted basket and a large comfy poncho that only a slender Pre-Raphaelite-style model can look good in. But I had to start somewhere!

P.S. The tidying and decluttering and cherishing of beautiful things continues. Goodbye old formerly favourite boots that have gone unworn for over a decade. Hello unexpected moments of visual pleasure...

'Best' recycled glasses brought
down from the shelf to be washed,
casting blue reflections in the sunlight.

...decluttering

A couple of weekends ago, prompted by the bright spring sunshine illuminating cobwebbed corners and dusty surfaces, I embarked on some seasonal cleaning, and spent a productive hour tidying and pruning this bookshelf, one of the many bookshelves in the house. 

Two carrier bags full of books plus assorted odds and ends took a trip to the charity shop, several stray volumes found new homes on a half-emptied shelf, and my sense of 'stuffocation' diminished ever so slightly. Encouraged by this minor success I've been extending the decluttering process to other areas of the house. This is not an easy task for me.

Like King Canute, when confronted by the inexorable advance of a self-made tide of stuff (stuff for future projects, work-in-progress stuff, stuff that's just been left lying around), I know deep-down that resistance is futile and I will never be entirely clutter-free. I'm not even sure I would want to live in a minimalist home. I like the sense of light and space, and the feeling of calm they engender, yet I'm still irresistibly compelled, like a greedy magpie, to feather my own nest with objects I find interesting/pleasing to look at. Once something has been 'chosen' I find it almost impossible to later cast it aside.

My husband has fewer 'hobbies', and thus a smaller amount of stuff, but he hates getting rid of anything even more than I do. "Where will you put it?" has become the go-to question whenever either of us is contemplating an addition to our collective belongings. It is the fear that we are teetering hand-in-hand on the brink of an entry-level hoarding disorder that really drives my urge to purge.

William Morris advised, "Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful." Ironically this is sometimes used as a mantra to aid decluttering, but it doesn't really work for me, because I do know that all those art/craft materials are useful and I do believe that the other things I collect and keep are beautiful!

A random corner of just one shelf holds a glowing 

butterfly-wing-blue chunk of Labradorite, a couple of lapis lazuli 

pebbles, an art-glass perfume bottle, a paperweight, two artist-made 

brooches (one enamel, one ceramic), a  wooden jigsaw I cut and painted 

years ago, a crazy hand-built bird-lady sculpture from eBay, and 

a tiny ceramic frog. The only one of these items I could even 

begin to consider discarding would be the frog - but he's too tiny

to make a difference...plus he and the bird-lady share the same 

affable grin, so they kind of belong together...

I try to find places for the beautiful things where they can be seen and enjoyed, and to systematically sort useful things into assorted boxes, files and containers - thank heavens for Ikea - and every so often I will tackle a defined area and force myself to find a few items I can discard or re-home, or more often than not keep re-organise into a tidier configuration. I even enjoy the regular occasional dusting and polishing this entails. So maybe - in order to stay on the right side of the fine line between collecting and hoarding - I just need to acknowledge the positive feeling that a little lightening of the load can bring, and make sure I cherish and enjoy the stuff I choose to keep.

  

After all, I'm nowhere near as out of control as this chap.

Or am I?

          

...plodding on

The going has been tough lately. A spasm in my neck has left me sleepless and miserable for just over a week, compounding the stiffness in my shoulder and the niggling aches and pains in the rest of my body that seem to have become the norm since I hit my fifties. I struggle to maintain a positive outlook when I'm tired and "everything hurts!"

Still, I pulled myself together this morning and carried on regardless. I went into the back garden to hang the washing on the line and got completely distracted by the clematis, which is currently flowering fit to burst with a lavish abundance of blossoms. Its delicate tendrils are so graceful and elegant I'm almost tempted to allow their audacious advance along the washing line.

I'm really not a fan of regimented, clipped and manicured gardens, and my aversion to ruthless pruning and 'cutting back'  (even if it doesn't usually do lasting damage) means that my garden does have a tendency to get a little wild and overgrown. Like a prudent hairdresser I  feel it's better to take off a little bit at a time rather than cut too much at once, but Spring having sprung everything was in need of a good trim. An hour or so of judicious snipping, strimming, and raking later and things were looking less like a jungle a little tidier and my mood had lifted. It's hard to stay gloomy when there are visual treats everywhere.

I decided to quit while I was ahead, rather than cripple myself by over-doing it, so came inside and set about the task of repairing an 'old faithful' jacket. It's possibly not the best-looking garment in the world, but it's a nice, neutral, faded browny-khaki thing that magically expands to fit me when I'm at my biggest and doesn't swamp me when I'm at my slimmest. The side of one pocket gave way several years ago, and I got as far as buying the thread to repair it, but never actually did because as has already been established I'm prone to procrastination the button flap at the top kept it in place and it really wasn't very noticeable. Recently the right cuff started to fray badly, threads unravelling further every time I put it on.  

Perhaps serendipitously, on my way home from work on Tuesday I tuned in to a radio discussion about sustainable clothing and the way in which clothes used to be 'made to last'. The presenter was also talking about the emotional attachments we form to certain garments, through repeated wear. I remembered this blog post about 'visible mending', and decided to make repairing the jacket a creative project.

I thought it would be a good idea to use denim for the repair as I live in jeans nearly all the year round - thus the jacket could still 'go' with anything I might be wearing. Being a compulsive hoarder frugal, I naturally had the thread I originally bought for the pocket repair plus a piece of denim (salvaged from the leg of my husband's old jeans) set aside for just such a patching emergency as this. I cut a strip on the bias and used it to bind the fraying cuff. Although I was pleased with the repair, I wasn't sure whether to use denim for the other (somewhat less worn) cuff. After consulting with my resident style guru  daughter I decided instead to use an ancient remnant of cotton fabric left over from a summer skirt I made around thirty years ago - did I mention I was a hoarder? The pocket repair took literally seconds (if you don't count the years it took to get round to it). With the addition of the embroidered felt brooch I got for Christmas the jacket is now good to go again, imbued with even more sentimental value than it had before.

My weeknight project at the moment is this 'Weald' poncho, by Sandra Nesbitt from The Knitter magazine, Issue 110.

An antidote to the 4ply nightmare of seaming and picking up stitches that was 'Betsy's Poncho'. A seamless, circular, one-piece wonder, worked from hem to collar with strategically placed decreases for shaping. With chunky yarn. On big needles. Fabulous.