Defiance

So, I had a very definite idea as to the way I wanted the ripple scarf to look.  And I thought Karin Bole's pattern would be just the ticket.  The pattern called for US6 (4mm) needles.  But I only had US8 (5mm) ones.  And not just any old US 8 needles.  THESE knitting needles:

Bought from a nice Australian shop called Coffee and a Yarn.  I mean, who wouldn't want to knit on these, right?  And what's a millimetre between friends?  So I cast on and did a few rows.  

And it was all ripply and everything.  But somehow, well, it wasn't quite right.

The thing is, I really didn't want a ridge between the changes of colour and the pattern called for a knit row after the ripple row.  But because I am so clever (sic), I knew that all I needed to do was purl that row instead.  

So, I ripped it all and started again.

And then I decided that I wasn't happy with just a couple of ripples per row.  So, I figured out that by adding 18 stitches and repeating the ripple row repeat three times instead of two, I would achieve what I wanted.  Are you with me?  So, I ripped it and started again.

And then I figured out the reason the pattern called for US 6 rather than US8 needles - the larger size left larger holes in the ripple.  And I didn't like it.  So, I ripped it and started again.  This time with the right needles. (Sensible ones without the toadstool tops.  Sniff.)

And that's when the fun started.  I have already mentioned here that I am a Serious Person with a Serious Job.  I went to school for a long time and everything.  So, somewhere along the way you would think I might have acquired the capacity to count to six.  That's basically what the pattern requires.  But no.  I have lost track of how many times I have lost track of where I am in the ripple row.  It's not difficult.  You just need to concentrate every third row in four.  And even then, and allowing for the extra 18 stitches, they are not long rows.  56 stitches.  C'mon.

Okay, so there's a definite ripple.  And that's a good thing.  And there are no ridges between the rows, so my cunning plan worked.  But the middle ripple sort of wavers there in the first few rows until I got a grip and settled into it.  And by then I'd ripped it so many times that I hadn't the heart to start yet again.

So, here it is.  The beginnings of a wavery ripple.

And no-one could ever accuse it of being shop bought...

I have to say that, despite looking a bit more hairy than I expected, the wool is lovely to knit with and it feels soooo soft.  I think when I finish it, somewhere around 2045, I'm going to love it. That's if I don't rip it and start again.

C.x

Cheery stripes

I'm more of a circles than stripes person (more of that another time), but our amazing holiday is coming to an end (suspect you'll be hearing about Australia for a little while yet), so I wanted to post about something very Summery to prolong the holiday feeling.


Deck chairs! Nothing says sunshine to me more than an old fashioned deck chair. And next to the Townhall in Sydney, there are deck chairs for use by the public when the sun and the city gets too much.






How cool is that!

And while I'm at it, I thought I'd show you this lovely fabric from a shop there selling French flea Market type stuff called Ici et La (wish I'd taken more photos in there, but sometimes I get a little shy of asking.)





And all of this reminds me of a lovely day Mr P and I spent in Lyme Regis last Summer where these couple of deck chairs seemed so quintessentially English...


When we left New York three weeks ago, the weather was like this:


It's been so lovely being in the sunshine of Summer in February and I've been reading wistfully about all the Spring loveliness in Europe on everyone's blogs. So I'm really hoping that when we get home Spring will have remembered to come to New York too.

And if you have a hankering after a deck chair, or even just some fabric, then check out this website. The colour injection alone will make it worth the visit.

Off to catch my flight now.

C.x

February sampler

I've been blogging for about 6 weeks now, and from the beginning I've loved the sampler pages of photographs on other blogs such as at 1/4 of an inch, or by Sue at The Quince Tree.  So I thought I'd have a go myself.  What do you reckon?

Thanks so much to Sue for pointing me in the right directions by sending me here.

Expect more of these soon.  (Can't promise I can wait another month...)

C.x

The antidote

Having stropped around a bit more yesterday, I woke up this morning determined to forget about the whole Morris & Co debacle. And what better way to do so than with a coffee and a yarn.


What a fab place!






It's bright and airy and has friendly staff who will serve you tea while they help you get around the tricky heel of a sock (not me you understand, but a rather lovely man who tutted a lot to himself before eventually asking the experts).


They even have one of these...


... like Annie and Laura have at Nimble Fingers and Steady Eyebrows, which I am coming to see as the mark of a pukka wool shop.

The man with the wayward sock and I sat at the same table, and there, invitingly, was this:


Exactly like at Grandma's but without the intimidatingly cool waiters. So, after I'd sipped my tea for a bit, I did just that. Actually, I knit four rows quick smart before I knew what was happening. LOOK!


Apart from the random blue bit that was part of the yarn, not bad for the first time in 25 years. (Just to clarify, mine are the knit and purl rows at the top. I could be wrong, but I think the person before me wandered in after a session at Grandma's and fancied a go...) To celebrate, I resisted the urge to buy (yet more) yarn but instead got myself some knitting needles...


...in pink with white dots on that remind me somehow of fairy tale toadstools. I had it in mind to knit a tea cozy (well they had some in the shop...). But then I found this...


...hidden away in this basket...


...in a junk shop down the road. I know, it's cheating a bit, but I think the pink and white stripes are rather lovely.


C.x

Fleeced

I know that the etiquette of blogland dictates that I should not swear on my blog so i will restrain myself. But you should know that I am swearing to myself as I write this. I'm so cross I could spit.

I went to see Morris & Sons today. Neither he nor his sons were there. Instead I spoke to a succession of women, each of whom told me the same thing. They don't accept the return of books. Period. Something about past experiences with customers photocopying the books and returning them. And they could only accept the yarn cutter (the cheapest item) for a store credit. I countered that I am here on holiday and if I wanted to cart paper around with me, I would have kept the book, and that I could make no use of the store credit because I live on the other side of the world. "Oh but we can ship to anywhere" I was told. Doubtless at great expense. At that point I was feeling so peevish I said that I wanted to return the wool. No problem. They could give me a store credit. We went round like that a few times until I accepted the futility of arguing with the inflexible gatekeepers of this inflexible policy. So I left in a huff.

Now I am cross beyond imagining. It's useless to tell me that the return policy was on the receipt. And that I shouldn't have been so profligate to begin with. I know all that. And yes, I am cross with myself as well as Morris & Co. And tomorrow I will get on with it and open the book and chunter a bit while I figure out how to do ripple. But just for now allow me to wander around muttering to myself about the injustice of it all.

A pox on Mr. Morris. And his sons. Bah. Humbug.

C.

A rush of blood to the head

Two Christmases ago, my sister bought me a scarf from Brora.


I now carry it around with me like a child with a blanket. I'm in Australia. It's hot here. But here it is with me.


It actually turned out to be pretty useful on the plane. The combination of tiredness and over-zealous air con meant that the extra warmth and comfort was just what was needed (I know - I sound like a granny...).

Anyway, inspired by this cashmere loveliness, and having mastered (sic) granny squares, I have decided to try my hand at ripple.


So, the other day, I went in search of a yarn shop and found Morris & Sons where I had a great chat with a very nice woman about my ripple scarf. There was some delicious cashmere yarn, but it was eye wateringly expensive, so I settled instead on some baby Alpaca:





So far, so good. But it didn't stop there. No.

Realising I didn't have a clue how to do ripple stitch, I had a look through the crochet books and found this:


...an excellent book with all sorts of useful instruction and pictorial tutorials, including some great ideas on ripple. And while I was at it, I also picked out a yarn cutter...


...because yanking the lovely wool apart with my fists didn't seem quite the thing. In short, I got a bit dizzy with it all. So, when I came to pay and the very nice woman asked for an amount equivalent to the GDP of a small country, I handed over my card like the shorn sheep the yarn around me came from.

It was only after I got home and that lingering sense of over-indulgence wouldn't go away that I hit on the idea of having a look at how much these things would have cost online. Oh my goodness! How does anyone do any crafting here? Without getting into the sordid detail, for two minutes on Amazon and Clover, I averted the need to call in the IMF just yet. So, Iwill be paying Mr. Morris and his sons a visit tomorrow to return my spoils.

But I am pleased to report that the yarn was pretty much the same price here as online, so I get to keep the baby Alpaca. Good.

Am I the only one losing my head when all about me are keeping theirs?

C.x

Sunshine on a rainy day

It was overcast when we woke up this morning and the weekend crowds had left with the sunshine, so the beach had the feel of a dancehall on a Sunday morning.

So we spent the morning reading...


...and spying on the local wildlife...



...before taking ourselves off for a lazy lunch at a place where they keep the sunshine in the napkins...





...followed by some wistful gazing through the windows of a Monday-closed shop...


...at all the things we realised we need, if only the shop were open...





...the kind of place where even a dish mop look special.


So we cheered ourselves up by looking at the sun hats...


...and eating ice cream (fig and mascarpone - yum)...


...and mooching around the bookshop...


...and drinking endless cups of coffee...


...all rounded off with a trip to the cinema...


...to see...





...which turned out to be FANTASTIC...



.....and because the cinema was empty...






...the projectionist invited us into the booth...








...to see the cutting edge technology.


I really hope it rains again tomorrow.



C.x