Sweden

I often feel that I am bound to be disappointed in my holiday experiences. This is because the places I wish to visit are romanticised versions of the past: they don't exist now, but they probably didn't exist then either. I want to see the herringboats returning to the little villages where the fisher-wives hug their shawls about them, their needles busy with the need to clothe their families against the bitter cold. I want cedar chests of patterned bodices and knitted red braces, boiled wool jackets - that sort of thing.



So, now, who knew that Sweden is a hot country? Who could have guessed that we'd be grateful for air-conditioning in the alarmingly luxurious spa hotel where we found ourselves in Gothenburg? Who knew that the city was hosting a gig by Iron Maiden whose fans would arrive in their thousands just as we did?


We explored the Bohuslan coast and the museum at Uddevalla, hoping for inspirational examples of Bohus knitting. In fact, the kits in the gift-shop were strikingly more alive than the exhibits. Commmercial hand-knitting with very fine yarn - 3-ply, it looked like, is definitely a thing of the past.


On to Gotland, an island where the sheep features heavily. In Visby, a walled Hanseatic town, a brilliant museum full of Viking picture stones and silver hoards - one find per year still on Gotland, so rich they were, from trade in Baltic beeswax, apparently.


In the town centre, a shop full of pared down linen clothes and wool and linen yarn- Yllet - they have a website. And a different shop with this simple style:














Gotland itself is dry and gritty, at least in August. We saw many wonderful church interiors; there are 92 built prior to 1361. And more of the picture stones, some in the church-yards, some in the open-air museum at Bunge.




At Orebro, a spectacular Slott and very civilised public gardens full of sculpture leading to Wadkoping, a collection of wooden houses and craftworkshops.

Orebro, castle

Then, finally, to Stockholm, where the wonders of Internet booking found us on a motor-yacht, once, briefly the property of Barbara Hutton, given to her as an 18th birthday present by her father, just as WW2 broke out, it seems. Moored alongside Riddarholmen in Lake Mallaren, the equivalent of the Thames just by the House of Lords, it was ideally located. The restaurant, as the sun set, offered this spectacular view, of what is apparently City Hall, built 1915. Probably better not to know that.

Stockholm, sunset.

Mittens finale

This is what 400 gm of Aran yarn looks like translated into 11 pairs of mittens. I got to six and considered moving on, but then I thought I would just see how many pairs I could get out of the ball. That's £2.50 worth of yarn.

Why was this project so compelling? Well, the pattern by Elizabeth Durand was both convincing and easy to memorise. I converted it to two needles as I don't have four needles that size.

Then, it was really quick to complete a pair - one pair I knocked up while chatting to a friend as she got ready to leave after a short stay. I was also intrigued at the idea of school age children who would actually wear hand-knitted items. The average Braintree child would freeze to death rather than wear something not made by Nike.

This is my piece de resistance, the only pair which demanded any thought. Basically it's a motif from Alice St*rmore's book "Fishermen's Swe*ters", just placed on the back of the mitt, and fancy cabled ribs. I can't decide whether the effect is unbalanced and clumsy, or unusual and appealing. It was certainly a clever technique for closing the motif at the top.

Rochester Mittens

Six pairs of mittens for a charity appeal based in Rochester, N.Y.

I was inspired to knit these by two things. One, a comment on my blog by a librarian in Rochester blogging as http://raveller.blogspot.com/ Just Another Raveler. She went on to post a wonderful image of blue hostas just for me. I'm a sucker for the enthusiastic response, which seems to me more American than British.

Secondly, the fact that I had bought a giant ball of blue wool from the stock of a wool shop which Kerrie and her partner at Hipknits had bought in Scotland and shipped down. I picked this up really cheaply. It's only 20% wool but the rest is Courtelle and it certainly has a lovely handle.

I was reminded, as I knit the pair with the star design from Sheila Mcgregor's Fair Isle knitting patterns book, just how motivating it is to knit simple geometric designs.

The story on the appeal references the work of one Mrs Nellis in 1933 organising a drive for knitted clothes in Rochester. I am surprised that there is the same need in 2008, but it appears to be so.

Ribbons

This is Ribbons by Sasha Kagan. It's in Jand S jumperweight, a yarn which holds layers of memories for me.

I first met it in Whitby, in a shop called "The Shepherd's Purse". I'll never forget the impact of seeing, in effect, the whole shade card range in skeins hanging from a line across the shop. On that occasion, I bought navy and three shades of mauve for a a striped sweater. That would have been in the early 80s.

Sasha Kagan's book was published in 84 and I must have bought it soon after. The yarn for this was bought in the now defunct but much mentioned "Art Needlework Industries" shop in Oxford, again a treaure house of colour and texture.

Sadly, when I visited the actual premises of J and S in Lerwick I was very disappointed. This was in 2000, so it may have changed since. It was as if Kaffe had never existed; in fact, the view seemed to be that his technique, presumably of darning in the ends, was not up to snuff. But what of his technique of using colour in surprising and pleasing ways? The whole place seemed to be stuck somewhere about 1958. Very sad.

Pansies

Yesterday, to a reunion of old colleagues from thirty years ago, at the home of a very dear friend. Sunshine and showers, walks in woodland, lively conversation and delicious food - the ideal summer Saturday.

This little cardigan is from Sasha Kagan's book, "The Sasha Kagan Sweater Book" published in 1984. It was fun to knit because it had white mohair bands and silver lurex stripes behind the flowers.

I was amazed to find that my friend, who is modelling it here, had kept it stored over several house moves. I don't think I would still fit into items I wore in 1984. Only the pleated sleeve caps really reveal its vintage, and the mohair bands have felted a little. However, the colours retain their freshness and the Jand S jumper weight yarn has held up very well.

Wrapped in Care 2

Another shawl in this periwinkle yarn for the Wrapped in Care programme. This one is the simplest triangle with some YOs added for interest. It was a pleasure to knit, although it takes some time to achieve an appropriate width at the top. I'm using straight needles so it is very bunched up by that point. Casting off is a revelation.

Last weekend, I compared notes with my work mates on plans for Saturday. The highlight of my day was to be collecting a load of well-rotted FYM from a colleague's field where she keeps horses. Even I thought it sounded downbeat as a leisure activity.

Saturday dawned to quite heavy rain, but it faired up enough to allow us to set out. In heavy drizzle, we clambered acroos the midden to reach the well-rotted sector, ankle deep in horse-muck. Twelve bags later, we drove off, filthy and sweating, but feeling that we had got a treasure.

Wrapped in Care

A simple shawl for the charity Wrapped in Care which provides shawls for mothers.

It's a lovely colour: periwinkle, my favourite after a deep peacock green. What's more, the project specified easy care yarn, and this is 100% acrylic at £1 per 100 grams.

The pattern is Matilda, free on Kate Blackburn's site. Very easy to knit, once I had got over a major misreading of the first line and decided to fare forward hopefully, essentially knitting half a shawl, upside down. I don't think you would be able to tell.

harvests

First, some of the fifteen hats, sweet as slices of Battenburg, knitted for the Save the children appeal publicised in "Woman's Weekly", that ancient home of the knitter. The premise is that new-borns lose heat rapidly so hats will save lives. Let's hope it is so. I was less convinced by the injunction to attach a label to each one berating Gordon Brown for his failings. In some world weary corner of my mind,I wonder if that, rather than the knitting, was the point of the campaign.

Next, gooseberries from our allotment. We planted four bushes, thinking of jam, sturdy and reliable producers They are certainly that: unlike tenderer fruit, they overwhelm us with their bounty each year. This is a small proportion of what one bush has produced.

Finally, the green house on our plot. This is the ancestral greenhouse which we dismantled in Ealing and transported to Essex. Months of restoration followed. Then we realised that, although useful as a store and as a shelter, it did not work for plants as it easily became too hot and they dried out.

One day in 2006, we visited the plot after a dreadful storm to find no greenhouse, but shards of glass and splintered wood everywhere. A weaker man might have called it a day at this point, but not my husband; this was his grandfather's greenhouse after all. Weeks of toil saw it restored to its former state, but with several cunning additions; metal stakes in each corner to anchor it and nylon rope over the roofridge lashing it to its breeze-block base. And both of us thoroughly enjoyed the shared project: simple physical work in the open air, re-using old materials, holding on to the past.

Kaffe Revisited

This lively jacket demonstrates the inventiveness of Kaffe Fassett at his best, in "Glorious Knitting."

It is shown again in "Kaffe at the Vand A", and really demonstrates how a simple stripe pattern comes alive with fluctuating colour ranges. I knit this for my sister many years ago, largely from the leftovers of the dark version of the Pompeii Jacket. I like Rowan yarns, but not the price of them , so this is entirely knit in oddments from a yarn shop in Tiptree - single balls of unusual eveningy yarns. And I do believe that there is enough still leftover to knit another whole jumper.

I do agree with whoever it was recently who called their stash a resource, rather than seeing it as a burden. Unless you don't feel able to buy new yarn until you have used up what is in store, I think stocks of yarn should be an inspiration.


A close-up of the toothed stripe waistcoat I was wearing for the Kaffe event. It was knit in Shetland wools from Jamieson and Smith, at least twenty years ago as a gift for my mother. What gives it life is not only the movement created by the flickering teeth, which are knit randomly, but also the addition of occasional bright blues and purples alongside the browns and greens.

I do think his new book, "Kaffe Knits Again", is a pale reflection of former glory. The sheer inventiveness of "Glorious Knitting" and the wonderful aesthetic feast of the V and A book really point this up. He may be right that throws and scarves are more likely to appeal, but surely the use of more subtle palettes would make the cardigans and jumpers more timeless and less obviously 80s.

Kaffe Fassett

Today to a long-awaited event with my friend, Alison. A visit to the Warner Textile Archive to see the collection of woven fabrics and textile pieces from the days of the silk mill in Braintree.

Then, a piece of astonishing luck. We were heading for a village hall not a mile from where we had lunch but became spectacularly lost, driving in a circle, so that we arrived with minutes to spare, instead of half an hour early as planned.

To our amazement, and the chagrin of those already seated, we were ushered to the front row, from where we had an uninterrupted view of the great man himself.

He gave a talk, as a commentary on a series of slides of his work and what inspired it. Brendon Mably managed the slides.

At times gasps of amazement or spontaneous applause greeted particular items, pricipally the quilts. It was a great afternoon, competed by the book-signing. I hand over the book to a man who has given me great pleasure over nearly thirty years and I find I have nothing to say. He, however, tells me he likes the colours in my waistcoat, which is the brown Toothed Stripe, one of his most vibrant designs. Imagine that.

Piles of wonderful textiles were strewn across the stage, and more were pulled from a holdall.

Kaffe Fassett signing my book.

Mufflers

On a day when we are forecast the worst storm of the year: two scarves.

The first for my husband, in Jaeger Luxury Spun, an e-bay buy of a discontinued yarn. We had gone up to London on a rare visit, on a bitterly cold day, and stood outside Liberty's waiting for my sister who was delayed. With half an hour to kill, we browsed Lberty's menswear dept, checking out scarves since it was so cold. We were astonished to see one, with a designer name, but also a price tage of almost two hundred pounds. It was knit on one side and silk-lined on the other, a very appealing item.

We bought a navy lambswool scarf for fifteen pounds, but the idea stayed with me. This one is in a diagonal rib, lined with silk from the silk mill in Sudbury, just up the road. The silk makes it smooth against the skin, instead of itchy.

Secondly, a feather and fan scarf in Colinette four-ply, bought at Allie Pallie, one of those buys which has to wait years for its hour to come.

Both are being worn by the wall fruit trees in our garden: the espaliered pear just coming into bud.

Sunday' Best

Perhaps I'll try posting once a week and see how it goes. Somehow I can't get into the Work-in-Progress groove - half-finished socks, one front of the Arwen cardigan, more hours than I like to think of on the Icarus shawl...

I like things a little more finished.

A treat just before Christmas: a card from the Innocent Smoothie organiser commenting on the hat in Sanquhar knitting. Then, some days later, this.





Now, nothing on the site reveals that there were rosettes - how many, for what? My design was not chosen as Hat of the Week. But I was really gratified to have this rosette, the first I've ever been awarded, even if thousands of others also received them.

Next some mittens with a tale behind them. For some while I read Blogdogblog, finding the links from there intriguing. There, I first saw Sanquhar gloves and a Japanese rendering of them. Sanquhar is less than a hundred miles from my birthplace, but I'd never heard of it until then.

I also saw knitted braids there too for the first time. These mittens are a mixture of Komi patterns from Charlene Schurch's book "Knitting Marvellous Mittens".

These were knit on two needles in Shetland 2ply wool. I thought they would be interesting but unwearable but, in fact, they've been in constant winter use.

Little Hats

Little hats for the Innocent Smoothie campaign organised by Amelia.

These certainly meet many needs: quick results, using only small ends and a guaranteed charitable purpose.

I've managed four of these at a sitting - roughly twenty minutes per hat, bobble time extra.

Flagging it up

My first experiment at a log cabin blankie - and I'm not completely convinced. First, I overestimated how many stitches to pick up - major distortion, so I unpicked the middle and picked up on four dpns to knit a red centre. This kind of sorted it - until I noticed that I'd picked up the wrong side. I waited to see if I could live with it, but I couldn't, so out it came.

Then I found it took twice the red yarn the second time. Something wrong there, but I'm not sure what. Still quite distorted because it is hard to pick up and cast off at exactly the right tension to avoid this.

However, it's quite a startling effect, and I got the yarn at a giveaway price, so I was not wrecking good yarn in the experiment.

Innocent Hats

For some reason the charity knitting theme has taken hold. Perhaps it's the sense of making something from nothing, or the idea of community activity.
These are destined for Amelia's drive for hats for Innocent Smoothies. Yes, it's a marketing or image-building ploy, but 50p to Age Concern is a generous contribution for the results of twenty minute's knitting while watching tele.
First, some candy coloured offerings.








Next, a series representing different knitting traditions: Aran, Sanquhar, Fair Isle and Tyrolean. I can see this becoming a test of ingenuity.

Surprise.

Now what can this be? While knitting this for the first time it holds the attention although only garter stitch is used. This must be because you don't really know where you are on the garment until quite a late stage. Thus, the placing of stripes is a shot in the dark.


Eventually you reach a point where buttonholes are placed so it all starts to clarify. The section where you knit on the central 90 stitches for a while is mysterious. But the final mitreing of the front corners is not immediately clear. At last you have the whole piece off the needles...


And you have the Elizabeth Zimmerman Baby Surprise Jacket. I've wanted to knit this for some time, and I'm really pleased with the result.

Knitting for Kisiizi

Two little knits for Brigid's appeal. Rummaging through the bottom of a wardrobe I came across a cache of baby yarn. Not just yarn but all the pieces for one jumper and the back and one sleeve of the other - with the pattern. This meant a satisfyingly quick result. And to think that the bag had been there these eight years. All that was needed was the motivation.








I wonder how many other stalled projects I could dig out if I felt there was a need...under the bed, in the loft, in the other wardrobe, the dining-room.....

Charity Knitting

Knitting for charity.

Busy weekend made purposeful by the notion of joining in worthwhile schemes.

First, four squares for the Rebuilding Greensburg Block by Block project. Can it really be that those devastated by tornado damage are most in need of an afghan or knitted blanket? But the idea is compelling – if only we could resolve the world's big problems by knitting squares.

As my husband pointed out: anything which reduces the scrap yarn stash in our house has to be good news. And these were knitted from just some of the pale neutrals I used to knit the Pompei jacket all those years ago. So we have a way to go.

 

Next, some little hats for the hospital in Uganda supported by Brigid. I wasn't clear on the bonnets issue when I started these. Again these are just leftovers from previous projects. I never seem to have just little ends left.

Now, I learn from reading Rabbitch that mittens are needed on the Cheyenne reservation. There's a thought to fire the imagination: mittens, possibly inspired by the Latvians, on their way to support Native Americans. Did the Sioux Indians knit? And if so, with what? Buffalo fibre?

Another Aran cushion

Aran cushion in a pattern taken from an Aran jumper pattern. Just the front done in the complex pattern while the back is in double moss stitch. Two buttonhole loops and some neutral buttons and it's done.

Aran Cushions

Aran patterns have a charm all their own: so much dramatic impact for often minimal effort - cables being easy to memorise by reading the knitting itself. So, a series of cushions for the cottage. The point here is that heavy usage would soil these quickly, but a cottage only has intermittent use so these stay fairly clean.
This is a pattern from Alice Starmore's "Fishermen's Sweaters" - an absolute feast of complex designs. How wearable such an encrusted pattern would be, is another matter, but as a cushion, all the interplay of light from the textural interest is ther. And I can admire it, which I couldn't if I was wearing it.

Strippy Throw

A sampler throw for the cottage. The idea here was to build in a number of design elements: alternating large, complex patterns with small textures. Barbara Walker's stitch pattern library gave me most of the designs. Then two colours were chosen to echo the colours in the room, which has striped wallpaper on the chimneybreast. A further reference was the strippy quilt, where the quilting forms a textural interest on the alternating colours.

It was nowhere near as easy to knit as it might have been, because different stitch patterns alter the size of the resulting block. There were several reknittings of difficult strips to adjust for this.

One square has the date and my initials.

Giant jumper

Walking in Cumbria in the depths of winter decided me to reknit an old pattern, but in a much larger size. This would accommodate not only a bigger me, but also several layers of lighter jumpers. Knitted in Balmoral, a chunky yarn, it knit up quickly. This is a pattern I've used several times before.

Kid Mohair

This is the black version of the kid mohair cardigan. Knitted from this very light fibre, it is still floaty after all these years. The lace pattern was easy to read and memorise. The design, as I recall, had a variant with gold bobbles at the centre of each diamond, and a big floppy collar. Very Eighties.

Lace from the Auvergne

Last summer we were holidaying in th Auvergne and I came across this wonderful lace doiley at a flea market. It was three Euros, which I find astounding as bobbin lace is much prized in the region - but of course this is knitted. It measures about fifteen inches across and does remind me of a particular shawl in "A Gathering of Lace".

Pompeii Jacket

The pale version of the Kaffe Fassett jacket. this must be about twenty years old and has seen hard wear. It's a really comfortable shape. When new, it went over a beige dress to look really smart. Now it never leaves the house.

This is the curous thing about some knitwear: it becomes indispensable while other, equally credible, items fail to endear themselves.

Comfort zone.

Jaeger Shetland Style is the yarn used in this very easy shawl. It's such a soft yarn, but I was still not sure what pattern to use. I tried a small cable and then a catspaw. In the end the tweediness of the yarn suggested a double moss stich, which works well with such a bulky yarn. I'm not really a shawl person, but it is very useful as an extra wrap on cold evenings, or on car journeys.

Print of the Wave Stole

The Pattern for this came from Gladys Amedro's book on Knitting Shetland Lace. It is lovely as a piece of fabric but I am not sure whether it does not look like a bedjacket in reality. Partly it's the colour, but there is something about the texture and the way it hangs over the shoulders which suggests the grandmother in Red Riding Hood.

Tumbling blocks

A Kaffe Fassett jacket, originally done in very pale colours as from a mosaic in Pompeii. This version used a variety of evening yarns some with glitter.
I wore it to the V. and A. exhibition of Kaffe's designs in, I think, 1988.

Not really wearable now, but I can't bring myself to throw it out.

Heirloom knitting

Some more pictures, this time of items knitted for my mother, and worn with great pleasure by her and subsequently by me.



First, a waistcoat of my own design, knitted all in one piece. The idea here was to include a significant piece of text, in this case lines of verse. I'd already done one for myself with proverbs. In two ply jumper weight, from Jamieson and Smith these are at least fifteen years old.



Then, the Kaffe Fassett waistcoat in browns.



This is also in very good nick and perfectly wearable. Kaffe's designs are classics, though not to everyone's taste.

Blue dogtooth

A litle waistcoat knitted for my sister out of scraps of two-ply jumper weight.




A lovely Kaffe Fassett pattern, because it looks very complex but is really simple to execute. Millions of ends to weave in though.

Spring in Essex

First picture!



A cardigan in Kid mohair, knitted for my sister some years ago. Like a cloud, but such a luxurious item it has not seen much wear.


I believe I may have cracked how to upload pictures. Incredidible though that may seem to most bloggers, it had remained a closed book to me before.

Sock it to them.

The Kelso jacket is complete, after several reknits of sleeve ends, collar and button bands. I can't decide if it will become a wearable item as the fabric is stiff rather than cosy. In some lights it looks colourful, and in others very dull.

Also complete now is a pair of socks from sockyarn sent to me as part of a prize by Wendy of Wendy Knits. I knitted four cat blankets and was entered in the draw. This sock yarn has crossed the Atlantic twice, which is more than I have.

Just started are socks in the lovely Vintage Floral colourway from Pieces of Beauty. I've done a picot edge and am trying an eyelet flower pattern on them. I'm also using dpns, something I said I'd never do again. I'm trying just four this time instead of five and I think I'm getting the hang of it at last.

At the weekend, a trip to Sudbury: cones of wonderful silk thread at 50p a cone. I just need to work out how to ply it up to a usable yarn. And then, cones of knitting yarn for charity knitting at 75p a cone. How could I resist?

Finished objects

So long since I last updated. The Print of the Wave stole is complete - as I predicted, it became a rather tedious knit over the final two foot or so. Then there was the mystery of how to complete the final corners and border.

At last I reached blocking, often the moment of revelation with lace. It went well, although perhaps the weight of the yarn prevented it being as elastic as a laceweight might have been. Now, of course, I can't decide if it looks like a bedjacket or a thing of beauty.

Since then, I've knitted five hats for the Dulaan appeal and three in plain Aran for the Cancer Research fair. I've knitted five little reindeer inserts for cards and two pairs of thrummed mittens, just to experiment with using raw fleece.

I'm almost finished knitting up the blue tweed yarn I bought at Ally Pally. It's "my own design" in that I have no pattern, but it is really just make it up as you go along: a plain cardigan with moss stitch borders and collar.
I was determined not to put the yarn in the back of the cupboard because it may never have seen the light of day again. It's a tad scratchy.

Next project? Could it be finishing the taupe jumper? Or shall I experiment with mittens in tapestry yarn?

Print of the Wave

Making good progress now on a stole using a pattern from Gladys Amedro's book on Shetland Lace. As usual I don't have the right yarn, but a cone of what purports to be llama, bought in a charity shop for two pounds has suddenly found its purpose in life.
I had always wanted to try knitting on a lace border and just didn't realise how easy it would be once the pattern was set. Now I just have to keep going for the required 60 inches.

Holidaying in Central France recently we came across an antique fair where I was able to buy a lovely knitted lace doiley for three euros. If that had been antique bobbin lace it would have been many times that amount, but knitting? No one but me wanted it. That region of France has a long history of wool production, but the only knitted garments on sale were a sort of basic Aran sweater in a speckled beige wool. Sheep there are now kept for their milk which can be made into cheese. Some appear to be kept intensively in barns for this purpose. But wool was nowhere to be seen.

Woolfest

Aye, it were a reet good do. The crack were grand and as for t'la'al hoggs, well, Ah've niver seen sae menny in yan place like.

The money that was changing hands! And when you think that farmers are paid £1.50 per fleece by the Wool Board, then a little more dependent on the market. That's per fleece! In 2000 we were amazed to hear of wool being dumped in the sea in Shetland, and we saw some being burnt in a quarry in Cumbria.

The Fest itself was a sensory delight: so many colours and lovely textures. In a way it was less amazing than last year just because of the repetition. But to see so many enthusiasts under one roof was a joy.

What did I buy? One back issue of Interweave Knits, and two beautiful glass buttons, iridescent, with metallic dragonflies. Just lovely. Then we went off up Fleetwith Pike and breathed the sweet mountain air just as the football was starting.

Knitting in groups

On monday to my local knitting group. Knitting being a process I associate with long evenings in front of the telly, the whole idea of a taking my knitting to a group was alien. However, I needn't have been concerned as it was a real treat to be in a room full of people for whom "knitting" is not a synonym for "tedious activity only done by those incapable of more active pursuits".

The range of projects in progress was very wide and the group newly formed. It will be interesting to see how it develops once the aim is to acquire new skills.

I'm making good progress now on my WIP. It's just that taupe is not a very stimulating colour.

Finished object.

At last I have a finished project, started and finished after my hand surgery.

I bought two balls of Jaeger silk, in a light turquoise, on e-bay, largely on the strngth of seeing Wendy knit a top in the same yarn. It's quite a heavy yarn without much lustre, but the thought that it was 11.50 per ball originally does create a sense of luxury.

I've knitted a scarf in travelling vine pattern and,although it is heavy for a summer scarf, the colour is light and summery. More than that, of course, is the relief of being able to knit at all.

Stash yarns

It never ceases to amaze me to see what other people will admit to having in their stashes. Hundreds of pounds worth of big name silk, baby goat, Japanese imports....

I was brought up to thrift, and fatally acquired jumble sale syndrome when I was 14. I started grammar school just as my older sister left it, so I was able to inherit her gymslip. I'd like to see the 12 year old nowadays who would wear something which had been worn daily by someone else for four years before they got it. However, that never occurred to me. What rankled was that, in the last year of junior school my brother had been bought a bottle green gaberdine raincoat. But boys at the grammar wore navy-blue, a fact that had eluded my parents. So this same raincoat was passed on to me. It was a boys' coat, straight and fastening the other way. I wore it for three years.

When I was 14, at a jumble sale, I lighted on a Robert Hirst school coat: bottle-green, belted and with a purse on a chain still in the pocket. It was half a crown. That is twelve and a half pence in today's money, but then it was the price of two visits to the local cinema - so I guess that's at least ten pounds in today's money. I had it cleaned and wore it every day until I left school at eighteen. Eeee, it was a different world.

But, my point is this: I always value things more highly if they have been bought as a spectacular bargain, in a charity shop or at a boot fair.

Greatest bargain to date? A sealed pack of Rowan Cork and one of Kidsilk Haze, along with the issue of Rowan magazine which had inspired their purchase, in an Oxfam shop in Penrith for ten pounds the lot.

What's your biggest bargain been?

Picture Knits

Some of my most enjoyable projects have been intarsia picture knits, I don't quite know why... Could be the incentive to keep knitting as the picture emerges, or the simplicity of the stocking stitch back and sleeves - so quick to knit up.
Most memorable - A navy sweater with a pink pig face on the front and the pig bottom with curly tail on the back, for my nephew then aged about six. Caused a sensation in the dinner queue, I was told. But then my sister was asked to embroider on some black tusks, as being called Miss Piggy didn't go down too well.

A sweater with a sheepdog, customised with the name "Mist", which was the name of their dog.

A dark green sweater with a big red tractor, like the one they had, again for my nephew, aged about eight. Then it occurred to me how an adult version for his dad would be fun, so I knitted in their names as well. Pattern was in the "Farmers' Guardian" as I recall.

Who knew?

So who knew that the very moment I start a knitting blog is also the moment my knitting career was doomed to end? (Or perhaps not, if you're an optimist, which I'm not)

I find myself suffering from a condition known as trigger thumb, which gives me limited grip with my right thumb and, at times, extreme pain and immobility. You know, you use that thumb for all sorts of things: gripping, turning keys, writing... But I only have to reach into my bag for something and it feels as if I've been bitten.

So, of course knitting, at least the way I've always done it is not recommended. I grip and release the yarn between my finger and thumb. Not any more though. Surgery is scheduled to release the nodule on the tendon, then we'll see.

Not a lot of progress on my work in progress meanwhile.

Alice Starmore

I came late to Alice Starmore, though I'd had her Celtic Knitting book out of the library many times, just to enjoy the colours and landscapes. Then I was in a yarn shop called Silkstones in Cockermouth - now, alas, defunct. There was a pamphlet called "A Scottish Garland" which I had to have, even though it cost £6.95. Who knew that this same booklet would be going for 77 dollars on e-bay? I should have bought six.

In fact, I've only knitted Arans from her "Fisherman's Sweaters" and "Sweaters for Men" books, because I'm basically a two needle knitter and have never ventured into the territory of the steek, though it seems straightforward enough when explained by Wendy et al.

Kaffe Fassett

It's the late 80's. "Glorious Knitting" is a dream of a book, with photography to drool over. I knit the Toothed stripe waistcoat in many shades of blue for my sister and then in browns for my mother. In fact I don't need to buy much wool for these because 2Ply jumper weight seems to breed by itself, and these projects use very small amounts of each colour.

Then I am in a woolshop having a sale and scoop up 20 balls of chunky wools in pale colours for £8. This gives me the basis for a Tumbling blocks jacket, inspired by a tiled floor in Pompeii. This becomes my all-time favourite jacket; in fact, I'm wearing it as I type this.

Later, I collect enough dark, sparkly yarns to make an evening version. This is what I wore to visit the Kaffe Fassett exhibition at the V&A in 1988. To be walking around an exhibition of fabulous sweaters is an aesthetic experience - but to be also wearing one yourself was something else. One of the highlights of my knitting career.

The Sasha Kagan Experience

It's the early 80s suddenly. I go intoLondon and am totally blown away by the sweaters in the Sasha Kagan Sweater book. At one time I had a flatmate who was into Patricia Roberts but I never liked that sculptural look with the bunches of grapes and so on. But Sasha Kagan! Such great colour combinations, such clever designs. Then, she had a wider range than the floral motifs one sees from her now. And almost all of it in 2-ply jumper weight from Jamieson and Smith in Lerwick. For some reason their yarn remained ridiculously cheap for a very long time, and discovering them was a revelation.. Their shade card was - and still is - a thing of beauty.


I knitted a little waistcoat with running dachshunds on it, now gifted to the Knitting and Crochet Guild collection. I knitted a cardigan called Ribbons twice, once for my sister and once for my friend. The yarn for these came from Art Needle Industries in Oxford, now long gone. Then my friend saw the white cardigan with the pansies running across it. Such a satisfying and luxurious project since it had stocking stitch bands of silver lurex and white mohair running across it.

The Sacha Kagan Experience

Novelty Yarns

On my last two visits to wool shops I've been amazed by women drooling over some of the novelty yarns on sale and sharing with all and sundry how many scarves of each they had already knit. Handknitting is strange in the way that it periodically becomes a craze. Usually this spawns a crop of garter stitch items in simple shapes. Novice knitters manage these, but it doesn't mean that they will move on to the long haul of the actual craft. Novelty yarns almost guarantee this, because elaborate stich patterns are lost on them, colour and texture being everything.

Personally, I find there's no pleasure in these yarns because the texture prevents the stitches running easily on the needle to create a rhythmic flow.

The boyfriend jumper

In my early twenties I had a boyfriend with very eccentric tastes in clothing. He would appear in a luridly striped blazer, a straw boater and co-respondent shoes - in fact, he had no normal clothes. We spent some time browsing in a wonderful shop called The Scottish Merchant" where he bought a complex, authentic Fair Isle pullover for £11. Now, that's nothing of course, but then it was two weeks wages.
Since I could knit, I bought a pattern and cast on. It was asleeveless pullover in grey and blue stripes and I'd got quite a lot knit when he remarked that he couldn't see himself wearing it. That may have been the moment that I realised it was a doomed relationship.