Alison Crowther-Smith

Musings: My Diary (if I wrote one) from a week or so ago…

June 11th, 2018

Monday:  exciting news today is that it is time to take Rupert for a check up at the vets.  This means, as I have a special needs dog in the form of Arthur, who cannot be left alone unless Rupert is also there, that we all have to go.  I have decided today is the day to have The Talk with the vet.  Roo is fine, he is really well actually so it is a good day to talk to LV (lovely vet) about The End Game Plan.  Rehearse calm conversation about how I would like this to go.  Naturally, having completely composed myself on the drive in, I instantly dissolve into tears before I have even one full sentence out of my mouth.  Distressing interlude begins for all of us as Arthur begins to whine, Roo begins to yip and LV goes out to get tissues for me.  LV fills in gap in my conversation – me being reduced now to wet sniffs and gulps instead of words – with a cheerful discourse on Losing A Much Loved Pet.  Decide to abandon The Talk until another time.  Arthur wees on the floor. Know how he feels…

Tuesday:  appointment book reveals that I have an appointment at the dental hygienist.  My old hygienist has left and so I have a new one.  Becoming less afraid of dentist was really only achieved by previous hygienist being angelically nice to me and I have had a good 2 years.  Tell literally everyone I meet today that I am Very Nervous.  Receptionist glances at colleague, decides I am probably harmless and indicates a chair in the waiting area as far from her as is possible.  I sit and read about spiral knitting.

Steve (new hygienist) has 2 or 3 goes at alerting me to my appointment and eventually the old man sitting next to me digs me sharply in the arm and demands to know if I am Alison.  I admit it, and then Steve gently leads me into the office.  S asks if there have been any changes since my last appointment.  I tell him I have become, once again, overcome with Dentist Nerves. As angelically nice woman has left.  Steve listens, and then asks me if any dental or medical changes have occurred.  I tell him I have given up drinking fizzy water to which I believe I had become addicted.  Steve agrees that this is Wise and pops out for a moment.  Nurse enters.  I tell her I am Very Nervous and that I wish my other hygienist had not left.  Steve comes back in.  Nurse tells him that I am Very Nervous.  Steve nods, maybe a little wearily, and then coats the entire interior of my mouth with a thick gel or paste, rubbing it firmly into my gums especially.  This is a first and I try (but fail) to say so, my mouth being full of his hand and also a lot of paste.  Instead I gag on his finger but happily am not actually sick, I just urge a lot and my eyes completely fill with tears.  I decide to close my eyes and think of a Fairisle chart.  Procedure is totally painless.  Am unsure if this is the paste, or the skill of the hygienist.  Am blissfully grateful and happy!  Thank S and nurse in manner of Academy Award winner, and float into reception to make next appointment.  Rave to receptionist about how Great S is.  Skip back to car, bestowing smiles and cheerful mini-waves to all I pass.  Achieve car, and look in mirror.  Startled and disappointed to see that tiny coat of mascara I applied earlier is now all over cheeks and temples, in improbably huge dried-up rivers of coal-like stains, probably due to the gagging.  Drive home in dark glasses.

Thursday:  finally complete The Allotment at Home Project.  Last delivery of gravel has been dumped, the last lining is down.  Gravel Man and I say farewell, for ever…Immediately begin agony of indecision re old allotment.  Now is the moment to go one last time, empty the shed and never go back.  Instead of following this plan – which has been widely shared and agreed with many interested parties – I sow seeds for things I have no room for, here. Also, pot on squash and spinach.  Reflect that I could just keep it for another year.  Rule – which is flagrantly dismissed by several plot holders, I note – that 75% of the plot must be under productive cultivation is a problem as I am now only growing garlic, rhubarb and raspberries.  Wonder if planting a few stands of beans and half a dozen mystery squash will suffice. Family express strongly held view that I have got an allotment here now and I cannot reasonably keep the other. Continue to sow beans…

Friday:  attend the gym for usual classes.  I am very early so I decide to cast on a Moebius.  This witchcraft further sets me aside from the demographic and I regret getting out knitting  – or at least think in future I will knit only ‘normal’ things in gym foyer.  Put knitting away and instead attend to some admin on my phone. Lovely Retailer (LR) with whom I have worked for many years, is retiring and I have been asked to offer some autumn teaching dates for the New Lovely Retailer (NLR) who has bought the shop. LR asks for Brioche. Having sworn never to teach this wretched subject again, and indeed, having firmly refused several times in last year, I inexplicably give in and say Yes.  But only In The Round.  Instantly regret this but have sent email so too late.  Spend entirety of classes thinking about Bloody Brioche.  Find, part way through Spin, that I am standing up and have been for ages whist rest of class is toiling in seated climb.  This lapse due to finding that, mentally at least, I have no idea how to knit Brioche any more.  Entire knowledge of it has fled.   Assume this is self defence.  Hope it will somehow, magically, be restored once I try and do it.

Try to wrench mind away from BB in the torture that is BLT class.  In the end, compromise thus:  I make a bargain with myself (or the devil, unclear on this matter) that IF I can hold the pose we have been contorted into – which in my opinion leaves me with one hand too few on the floor, but anyway – for the duration of the 10,000 leg raises, on each side, without putting my hand down or stopping, Bloody Brioche will be unparalleled success.  I do hold the pose but sadly catch glimpse of self in mirror and am horrified to observe demented expression and mad hair.  That’s Brioche for you.  Do come.

Go home and eat chips.

Saturday:  receive text from Lily who is euphoric about the completion date on the house she and Jack are buying in Bridgwater. And this has just been confirmed.  Text back with equally euphoric reply.  Which is entirely false as this news, looming as it has been for so long, is in fact most unwelcome.  Try to tell myself this is Good (I know), and Normal (yes, yes), and that others Have It Far Worse (yes, I suppose so but do not care in the least and if we were all honest, we’d say the same). Yet, day clouded with terrible self-pity about this year being the first for 29 years when I will not have 1 or 2 children living at home. Am disappointed that I am not, after all, that paragon of motherhood who wishes nothing more than for her off-spring to leave; mainly because it is Good and Normal, and also because she is about to join the local symphony orchestra on a good-will tour of Middle East, so timing could not be better.  No.  I am not that woman.  I don’t even really like going to Taunton.  Decide to keep allotment.  That evening, try to think about Blessings.  For example, M and I will have so much more quality time.  Glance at M, asleep behind the Telegraph which he believes confers properties of invisibility.  Cast on Bloody Brioche.

 

 

How To Videos: stretchy cast on for socks

June 3rd, 2018

I am planning to make a few short videos of some of the techniques I teach and release them after workshops.  Here is the first one:  a stretchy cast-on for top-down socks.  This can also be used for the brim of a hat, the cuff of a mitten or anywhere that needs a good stretch that won’t go baggy.  Here it is.

Top down plain sock cast on

 

 

Workshops! Spaces!

May 29th, 2018

Hello there, welcome to the ghost-ship Court Cottage.  The workshops have succumbed to an epidemic of cancellations – so there is a lot of space here in June.

This weekend, you can come and knit socks, either from the top down or from the toe up. This is a great skill. Socks are easy to knit once you have mastered the basics – and that, plus a few extras, is what this course is all about.  I teach top down socks on DPNs and toe up socks on 2 short circular needles.  Once mastered, socks are ideal in many ways:  great, fast and economical gift knits; and perfect as a travelling project.

Next weekend, you can come and learn to knit a magical Moebius, or if you have done this with me before, you can knit a brand new design.  Moebiuses are very addictive and great fun to knit and to wear.

Please follow the links above or contact me.

Just a reminder:  if you were on my email list and did not opt back in when I sent out a recent pre-GDPR reminder, you will no longer receive my alerts and up-dates. So if you want to continue to get these, please contact me and I will add your name back in.  If you did opt back in – thank you!

 

GDPR: your data, your rights, and my policy.

May 17th, 2018

This policy applies on and from 25 May 2018

Keeping your data safe

I am committed to keeping your personal data safe and secure, and handling it in accordance with legal obligations.  This Privacy Policy sets out the purposes for which I hold and use your personal data, and what rights you have in relation to that data.

I am a sole trader, trading as Alison Crowther-Smith Designs

What data do I collect and where from?

I collect some data from you via PayPal or from an email from you, when you book a place on one of my courses or buy a product from my website.

This data includes:

  • Your full name;
  • Your email address(es);
  • The address you used to book your course.

I also collect information (email addresses only) from participants at workshops and events when I am teaching or presenting for a third party such as a yarn shop or festival.  I will collect your full name and your email address on a form which explicitly states that you have agreed to me holding and using your data.  If you do not wish this to happen, do not complete the form.

What do I use your data for?

I use the data to contact you directly about news, events, and patterns.  This will include Newsletters and direct emails.

Who do I share your data with?

No-one, including other people on my email list.

What rights do you have?

You have a number of rights under data protection law and I will respond to any requests to exercise your rights as soon as I can and in any event within one month of receiving your request.

  • You have a right to access your information;
  • You have a right to object to me processing your information;
  • You have a right to ask me not to send you information;
  • You have a right to have inaccurate data corrected; and
  • You have a right to have your data erased.

If you wish to be added to or removed from my email list, please contact me.

GDPR: do you want to stay in touch?

May 16th, 2018

Hello lovely reader!

It turns out that GDPR is not an extended news item about the German Democratic People’s Republic as I had assumed.  It’s all about data protection and it affects you and me.

I hold email addresses on a data base.  I hold it here and it is safe-guarded.  I do not use a mail platform.  I write the newsletters, for example, and send them to the list. I never share the information with anyone, including the other people on the list.

In future – in fact from this month on – if you do not opt IN, I will have to delete your data.  So you’ll never hear from me again, which is possibly a relief, but I would be sad.

From May 2018 onward, I will be collecting email addresses as usual but it will be explicitly understood that I am doing so with each person’s consent for me to do so under GDPR compliance.

Please contact me and say ‘yes please’ to future contact.

Allotment at Home: almost there!

May 11th, 2018

There has been so much progress! I have to say that since the muddy, freezing days of January and February when the turf was lifted but there was nothing in situ, the state of play now is just great.  Back then I was despondent and regretted ever starting this project but now I am sure I have done the right thing.

Last night, I picked all the ingredients, here in the garden, for this salad:

allotment at home salad

The first part of the project is 100% complete. All the beds are up, the gravel is down and each bed has been planted up.  Honestly – as I suspected – the furthest two beds beneath the rowan tree are far too shady so what I plant in there will need a lot of careful management, but otherwise, it is all good.

Here are some images of the progress here:

The second area is 75% there.  The beds are all in place, but now I have to fill them all (three are filled) and then lay the lining and the gravel.

Area Two:

The third area is the old veg garden – and this is clear, and ready for a modified brassica cage from the old allotment to go up this Sunday.  The plants are almost ready to go in, so just in time.

I had not been to the old allotment for weeks – so when I did go last weekend, it was a bit of a sorry state.  But then, I saw that a lot of plots were in even worse states with weeds and long grass and I assume their owners had been down there!  Anyway, it’s all tidy now and I have removed almost all the stuff I want – mainly the raised beds, the canes, some tyres and tools.  There are 1.5 beds to come back still – but this, though physically hard, is not at all slow or difficult.  And the cage.  I will keep the plot tidy until I finally give notice.

Taking the old allotment down:

When I went down, I thought I would feel sad – but in fact it just vindicated my decision. It is not a place of quiet solitude now – and also there are still no ‘facilities’ so it feels like hard labour compared to having a cuppa and a loo handy, here, in between work.  There, you just end up racing round to get it done before you need a drink or a wee!

 

A Crap-tastic Hotel Review

April 30th, 2018

I do sometimes stay in nice places.  I don’t tend to tell anyone in case they get all booked up.  And usually when I now and again review a crap-tastic hotel, I don’t name it.  The hotel I am featuring today is huge, and on the very edge of a place called Hook, in Hampshire which is about 15 minutes from Basingstoke.

First, I did not pay for this myself as it was a business trip.  Had I paid, I would have been actually angry. As it was, I was *quite* upset because I had 2.5 days to savour this pit and that is just not fair.  Just because I am working and not paying the bill does not mean it is OK to be accommodated in a frankly grim hotel.  It’s not.  I know that there is a school of thought that goes along the lines of:  it’s just a place to sleep, it doesn’t matter.  I am not in agreement.  When I am working away from home, I expect to have some basic comforts, not just a bed and a roof. This is why I prefer pubs and B&Bs.

Clues as to the reality of the impending stay:  1) the hotel will not allow you to check in until you pay in full.  2) the place is very eerie, and cold like an abandoned end-of-the-pier attraction.

I checked in with a colleague, and we had to pay for both nights right there and then.  The hotel had been suggested to us and sourced by a booking agent.  The website looked good.  The website is almost entirely misleading. Also they (and we) had not read the many reviews on Trip Adviser.  Don’t ever miss out this essential step.

We asked about dinner and the receptionist said that, yes, dinner would be possible in their Brasserie – on-line images and sample menus had been investigated by me earlier so I was happy.  But, she urged us to hastily book a table as it is very popular and busy.

Me:  can we see the menu, please?

Receptionist:  no.

Me:

Me:  why not?

Receptionist – but not to me, to a colleague who had wafted out of the office:  can they see a menu?

Colleague: no.

All of us, whilst gazing at one another:

My colleague, as if awakening from a momentary absence:  so, we have to book, but we may not see the menu?

Receptionist:  the menu is not ready.

Me:  it’s 5.30.  When does chef publish the menu?

Receptionist:  at 6.  When the Brasserie is open.

We declined and proceeded to our rooms.

The procession to rooms is lengthy, this being set out like a 1960s motel and with hundreds of bedrooms.  A brisk walk of 4 minutes through changing eras of decor ranging from the 1970s to late ’90s and taking in features such as huge but completely dead plants, all conducted in a howling gale from some open doors we did not see, brought us eventually to our corridor.  We investigated my room.  I knew instantly that a terrible mistake had happened and also, one second after this revelation, that we were committed.

I also sensed that my colleague was fervently glad that I had this room, and was sure that his room would probably be much, much nice.  I can see why he thought this.  It was hard to imagine anything worse, and also he is A Man and therefore probably worthy of a double bed, and he is My Boss, so probably worthy of a double bed.  Sadly, the hotel had not received this memo.  He urged me to view his room a few doors down.  I did and I am not even a bit ashamed to say how glad I was that the room was identical.  Ha.

We agreed to part and spend an hour enjoying the ambience of our rooms before meeting to drive into Basingstoke.  I used this time to take photos of all the nastiness, unpack my rucksack and iron two dresses.

The ironing board is screwed to the wall and is in fact all part of a mini-ironing board and trouser-press combo. The tiny iron is also fixed and wired in.  To use it, you have to pull it out and rest a leg of the board in a groove.  Once erected, it is at just below shoulder height for an average sized woman – me.  You can’t adjust this.  It is either up or down. And, if you are right handed, you cannot get to the right side to use the fixed iron without moving the bed.  I moved the bed.

To use the iron, I had to change into a pair of heels.  Unfortunately, I only had some modest heels as I was being a grown up but this did give me a two inch advantage over my sneakers.  I considered standing on the bed or a chair but then I would have towered over the ironing…I ironed a dress and the only way to see what you had achieved was to keep taking it off the tiny board and peering at it.

My room was pitifully dingy – the Bates Motel is an aspiration for this room.  The windows were wide open, causing the room to be freezing cold and also to waft the sordid net curtains about into the room, a la Miss Havisham.  I shut the windows with an effort, the metal frames being a poor fit, but this struggle gave me a chance to appreciate the torn nets which were hanging down from their rail, and also the collection of soggy fag-ends on the window sill outside.  This explained the strong smell of stale tobacco I suppose.

The facilities were limited to the absolute essentials.  The was a 1970s style telephone with a cable that was about 12 inches long, meaning that had I needed to use it, I would have had to kneel by a wooden shelf which housed it.  There was an almost empty safe – empty except for a cup and saucer, plus 1 sachet of coffee and 1 tiny tub of fake milk.  There was a retro hair drier with a cable so contorted that in use, it and I were engaged in some macabre Argentinian tango style manoeuvring – we writhed and twisted, flicked and parried.  So, a bit of a work-out even  if its drying properties were as effective as having a new-born babe breathe gently on your head.

Onto the bathroom.  A plastic shower curtain, white and grey (the grey being organic) modestly shielded an over-bath plastic shower head.  A soap dispenser (empty) was screwed to the cracked tiles.  On the sink, a tiny piece of soap, about the size of a 2 penny piece, wrapped in congealed tissue paper.  I left it untouched.  It would be like opening a fine old bottle of wine – wasted in a moment.  Luckily I always travel with full toiletries but had I not done so, I would have had to drive to Hook I suppose and buy some…

The shower was fairly powerful but very unpredictable.  You can choose from icy or scalding.  And then it will still vacillate wildly, not really knowing which temperature it wishes to be assigned to. And in this enlightened age, why should it have to choose?  Why must it be forced to conform to some arbitrary temperature category?  This shower is in the very vanguard of shower-emancipation.   I salute it.  If by ‘salute’, you mean: curse it with piratical swearing, emerge lobster-red and storm off into the murky steam-room I had created, wrapped in a waterproof bath towel the size of a napkin.

More revelations included the ‘free’ Wi-Fi being limited to 20 minutes after which you could pay a daily fee of £8.  Or, use the real free Wi-Fi in the hotel’s public areas – all of which were Baltic and infested with loud music pumped from hundreds of speakers in (I assume) a touching tribute to the Koreas.  I was delighted also, that night as I laid my weary head down, to find a tissue, and my bare (except for socks) feet found crunchy plastic wrappers and very painful plastic caps from what I think were medical phials.

At 5.30 am, I woke to the sound of the majority of the hotel’s guests getting up for work.  This cohort, occupying at least 60% of the rooms, are contractors working on infrastructure projects in the locality.  I have no issue with this, but they do rise early and shout a lot, both at night and again, as they mirthfully rib one another in the hallways, and urge colleagues to get up and come to breakfast.  I think that was the gist.  Also their tools and boots are quite noisy but that is not really the hotel’s fault is it?  I considered suggesting a system where these guests were placed in one of the many cells of the hotel’s Soviet lay out but as the production of a 3-course menu was clearly a stretch for the team, I didn’t bother.  To tell you the truth I was glad to be awake as my dreams had been about wild and exhausting forays along the endless orange-swirl carpeted corridors of The Hotel California.

I had seen the alluring images of the hotel’s leisure facilities, on the website. It ‘boasts’ a state of the art gym and luxurious pool.  My room was bereft of any hotel information  at all.  Literally, zero but I assumed being a busy business oriented hotel, 6 am would be reasonable.  I used my 20 minutes of free Wi-Fi to watch Netlix and then scampered down the arctic corridors to the leisure centre which was closed.  A note on the door said it would throw open its doors in half an hour. When I went back, the gym was open but the place was shrouded in semi-darkness, the main light coming from a TV monitor showing sports.  I was startled to see a youth behind the desk in the corner, we greeted each other in the customary wary way – ‘alright?’ – and I got on a treadmill and ran for 40 minutes. I now realise that I was supposed to pay to use the leisure club but it didn’t occur to me and Youth did not ask for payment. I can honestly say that this 40 minute run was the best part of the entire trip.

I am going to skip the bit about Basingstoke as this is not the hotel’s fault.  I fervently hope I never have to go back. Maybe, as I was seeing it on a grim Tuesday evening, on an unseasonably cold April day, it is unfair to judge.

On the last day, I had to go out very early for a meeting and then come back to the hotel.  I was packed so I put my luggage in the car.  But I didn’t check out. I wanted to use the room until 11.  However, my room was open when I arrived, the maid had checked me out and serviced the room.  She was apologetic but the inference was that it was my own fault for removing my luggage.  So I had to go and sit in my colleague’s equally squalid room where I spent my time once again freezing to death and moaning ceaselessly. I am sure this was annoying and I am glad.

 

 

April Newsletter

April 16th, 2018

The new Newsletter has just gone out to my email list.  It contains news on my events, new stock, and an invitation for expressions of interest for Knit Camp 2019 – which will be in Bath and offer 2 or 3 night options.  if nothing else, it is an easy read with a cuppa…

To receive my up-dates first, ask me to add you to my distribution list.

 

 

 

Allotment at Home Phase One

March 21st, 2018

allotment lawn all done 2

The first phase of Bring the Allotment back home is almost complete.  The turf was all lifted some weeks ago and then sourcing and building the raised beds started.  I have a mix of home made wooden beds, beds made of pallet-cuffs, and some metal hexagonal shaped beds.

This is what the area looked like before we started. Allotment lawn before

I then had three trees felled – two in this area and one in the next area across the drive.

As the beds went into place, the turfs were moved from storage and placed in the bottom of several planters.  Then I was able to put down heavy duty weed suppressing lining.  I have had mixed results with this on other gravel paths.  For one thing they are not weed suppressing. For another the frayed edges can quickly make their way through the gravel and be unsightly and a nuisance.  But I think I needed some lining, mainly to stop the gravel being mashed into the earth.  So I laid a path way of lining in each area – a long and painstaking process as this is a series of odd shapes.  And each piece was turned under at all the raw edges, by hand, and then the whole of each piece was secured, including the folded edges, with home-made metal ‘staples’ which I hammered in all around.

Allotment weed membrane 1

The lining does not always reach right to the edge of the beds, but it is down in every area where I will have to walk.

I then ordered 2 tones of gravel.  Which I then delayed three times as it was first too cold, then too wet and then too snowy to work outside.  When I finally got the first 2 tons schlepped, I was still 2 tons short, so I ordered some more – and it snowed again.  Eventually, this Monday and with snow still lying about, I got the last of it down.  All that remains here is for me to fill each bed with soil and compost.  Most of the soil is being dug and barrowed from the other side of the drive.  This is also part of the work to complete the last phase of the project.  At the moment I have the two biggest beds full, and two more almost there. full

I will also need to rig netting on each raised bed to deter cats and birds.

I am very pleased with it so far.  I know it is not beautiful, but it is a highly practical space now, with twelve raised beds.  I have four more on the allotment, and three more here, so the next phase is well in hand.

Allotment lawn area part gravelled

It has been a much bigger, longer and harder task that I thought.  But this is always the way, or it is for me.

I have not even been to the allotment other than to look at the snow for about three weeks, but I will be down soon to plant out broad bean seedlings and have a tidy up.  Then, the cage will be dismantled and brought home.  I will also dig up and pot on some raspberry root-shoots and bring them home.  Finally, the raised beds there and the tyres will be emptied and brought home.

The space you see here is about 1/2 of a full allotment plot, I think but longer and thinner; and of course I have sacrificed space by having only raised beds.  But I think these are far more productive than open ground growing for everything except fruit canes, and beans.  When I have completed phase two and re-configured the old original veg plot, I will have c 1.5 of a full allotment. Perfect.

The light is good in this area, even for March.  This plot will not have the almost uninterrupted full sun that much of my allotment has; but in very hot spells that has been a mixed blessing really.  Here, the beds at the far end will get early and mid-late morning sun; and the rest will have sunlight or at least good light later in the day.  I think it will be fine.  It will also be much more sheltered and far more peaceful.  I am looking forward to planting it all up and having it literally on my doorstep.

 

How To Videos

March 4th, 2018

In 2018 I will be adding a section to the blog and maybe to the workshop pages with some home-made ‘how-to’ videos. These will be there to support new or unusual techniques that I have taught at workshops.  It won’t be comprehensive but it will attempt to cover some of the tricks and things you may do infrequently and therefore might forget.  A refresher.  I will be starting with my new favourite top-down sock cast on.

I imagine most of the videos will be 1 -4 minutes long and will probably focus on things I ask of you in a pattern, such as a specific cast on, cast off, etc.

Any requests?  Must be very short demos!

Moons and Stars

February 26th, 2018

Moons and Stars 1

I thought you might like to see the final images of the designs for the Moons and Stars events which are new for 2018.

Here is the lap-blanket:

And here is the Cowl:

The blanket is steeked.  Both are knitted in the round and we also knit Fairisle with beads.

There is one space (a cancellation) for 22 March. The other dates are fully booked but we may repeat it in the autumn as there is a waiting list now.

This is not the design for our Shetland Fairisle adventure in July – but like Bees and Sulis, it is typical of my approach to Fairisle design – modern, a bit different, not difficult, simple colours and clean images – but knitted 100% traditionally. Do come to Shetland!  I can promise you it will be amazing.

 

Conversations with Lily: the gym, the stuffing, the kale and the sweat.

February 23rd, 2018

As I review the blog section that houses conversations with Lily, I see there are fewer of them as time passes.  This is not a true reflection of real life as in fact I think we have more conversations if anything.  But she is 21.  Apparently.  So they are different from the young and late teen-age conversations.

We often go to the gym together and this is a conversation from last week.

Lily and I are driving to the gym to attend a spin class followed by Bums, Legs and Tums. Do not let these familiar and innocent names fool you.  They are brutal at our gym.  Nice, but brutal.

As we drive up the hill to leave the village:

Me:  we could just not go.

Lily:  not go where?

Me: to the gym.

Lily:  what, just not go? (as if I had suggested participating in the class naked).

Me:  yes. I could turn the car round. We could go home…

Lily: what is for dinner?

Me:  chicken wrapped in bacon, roasted.

Lily:  (genuinely happy) yay!

Lily:  is there stuffing?

Me:  no.

Lily:  (crestfallen) what are we having with it?

Me: (said with unnatural enthusiasm as am fully aware that this news will be unpopular) kale!  And mashed root vegetables.

Lily: (with heavy sarcasm) yay!  Kale!

Lily:  f**cking kale. We are always having kale. Why do we have kale so often?

Me:  I grow it. I like it.  It’s good for us.

Lily:  can we have stuffing?

Me:  well…if I drove to Asda instead of the gym I could buy some, then we could go home and cook it with the chicken!

Lily:  but then we will feel bad.

Me:  about what?

Lily:  missing the gym.

We drive to the gym.  As we toil through 45 minutes of spin, I note that as ever, Lily and I are the only women in the class who are obviously literally pouring with sweat and very red.  Muse:  why is this?  Would like to think it is work ethic but think we are in fact just genetically programmed to most unattractive reaction to exercise.

As BLT is about to start:

Lily:  I wish we were having stuffing.

Me:  well it’s too late now.  Also I feel sick so let’s not talk about food please.

Lily:  we should have gone to Asda.

During BLT – the bit where you kind of half-kneel, half-lie on your mat and have to do incredibly painful things with your legs for an improbable length of time – which always comes after the running about bit and the torture that is 15 minutes of squats and lunges and thus makes me sweat even more, I catch Lily’s eye.

Lily:  (mouthing/whispering) stuffing…!

Me:  shh. Also – kale.

Later, someone I know only from the gym and who I really like comes up to me.  We are happy because the class is over.  She says:  ‘oh Ali!  your face in class always makes me laugh!  You cannot hide how you are feeling, can you? You look so fed up!’   I agree but in fact I am startled to hear this as have always assumed my face to be a perfect mask of enigmatic opacity at all times.  Later, on the drive home, I ask Lily.

Me:  Lils, so-and-so said to me that I look – well fed up in classes. I am trying to look neutral.  Which is it?

Lily:  quite angry and sometimes a bit scared and always fed-up.

Me:  wow! Sometimes I am enjoying it though!

Lily:  were you enjoying the mat-work tonight?  Because you looked psychotic.

Me: well no…but I was sweating so much my arms kept sliding away from under me.  I must try smiling.

Lily:  for God’s sake don’t do that. You look bad enough without adding a deranged grin to the mix.

Me:

Lily:  why do we sweat so much?

Me:  I don’t know!

Lily:  I blame you.

Me:

Me:  why?

Lily:  the same reason I blame you for the moon-face and the hair:  I get these things from you.

Me:  you’re welcome.

Lily:  but really, mum, why don’t I look like so-and-so in class?  SHE never sweats so much she has to mop the floor at the end.  HER hair never looks like she’s had a shower.  HER makeup never slides off her face like a land-slip.

Me:  we are working harder.

Lily:  we’re not!

Lily:  also how can the instructor do it all, AND yell at us non-stop, AND not die of sweating like us?

Me:  practice?  Or they won on the genetic lottery? They got lungs the size of hot-air balloons and no sweat glands and we got tiny lungs –

Lily:  (interrupting) yeah to go with our tiny bladders!*

Me:  yes! tiny bladders and tiny lungs – but incredible and over-productive sweat glands. Maybe, our profuse sweating is linked to having tiny bladders?

Lily:  eh?

Me:  well, our bladders are so small, the excess – um – fluids are excreted via our skin!  So we don’t…

Lily:  yes! OK, I get it! and also gross.

Lily:  we deserve stuffing for tea.

Me:  well, tough, too late, it’s kale.

Lily:  when you’re old I am going to make you kale smoothies instead of meals.

Me:  what about my wine allowance?

*It appears to be true that we both have bladders with the capacity of an egg cup. This is a source of irritation to anyone who has the misfortune to cave with me, or undertake a motorway journey with us as we like, in fact need, to visit all the service areas. On their first ‘date’ which was to Carnival, Lily’s boyfriend recalls that she had to visit the lavatory 5 times including just before leaving his house.  And yet still he went on dating her. He doesn’t so much mind it – really why should he? – as find it an absolutely baffling feature.  And then he had to drive me to Birmingham so now he knows where she gets it…

 

The Wool Palette Workshops in 2018

February 14th, 2018

I am delighted to be teaching a short series of one day workshops for The Wool Palette in Plymouth.

This is the space, which I just love:

The Wool Palette space 1

 

I can just see us there, can’t you?

There are four dates and topics:

17 March:  The Smudge Scarf.  I have not taught this event for at least five years and I won’t be teaching it here but it is a lovely day knitting a pretty scarf or wrap in Kidsilk Haze plus beads. So I think you should come to The Wool Palette and knit this with me.

19 May:  The Sara Mitts.  This is another topic I taught a fair bit when my second book came out and these mitts were the cover shot. They are a mix of two shades of Kidsilk Haze (but could be knitted in DK or 4 ply held single with the right needles and a bit of number-fudging).  They are possibly my easiest ever mitts – but just because they are fairly easy, doesn’t make them boring.  They are beautiful.  And an ideal day for a beginner to knitting in the round on DPNs or someone who just wants a lovely, straightforward project and a nice day out.

20 October:  The Magical Moebius.  There may well be some people out there who I have not yet taught to knit these magical and mysterious objects.  You will fall in love with it, I promise.

3 November:  Christmas Stars.  I taught this once here, but have never taught it since.  This is a great festive workshop in time for you to knit a galaxy of stars.  It’s a fun, fairly simple and highly addictive pattern too.

All the events will be held at The Wool Palette’s beautiful space at The Ocean Studio, Royal William Yard, Plymouth.  You can see this lovely creative space here. I just know this is going to be our sort of place.

The owner of The Wool Palette and I have chose these subjects because they offer a range of levels (though none are hard) and I don’t really teach these any more – they are vintage back-catalogue items!

I know that places are limited and there were I think 3 places left for March last week.  How can you book?  Here is a link to the Wool Palette’s Face Book page with details and contacts.

Allotment at Home

February 1st, 2018

As I get into year 3 on my allotment, I have made a decision.  I think.  You must be relieved.  Maybe (I am not promising) I will now stop mythering.

The allotment is going to move to home. The main reason I wanted an allotment was because my own little veggie garden here is in 50% deep shade from c May – October from a very large neighbouring ash tree.  This is now called Area 1. The parts that are not so affected are sometimes in shade from the house next door – the charming Whitlow – and the lightest, best parts are full of soft fruits.

Also, Florence and Will wanted a share in the allotment, but of course they instantly bought a house with a gigantic garden.  So why do I want it now?  As you know, loyal reader, I have mused long over this.  I have now almost decided that I don’t like the allotment as much as I did.  There are a number of reasons for this, most of which I cannot influence.  But my original veg garden is too small and dark.  So if I want to carry on vegetable growing on a largish scale, which I do, I must either grit my teeth and stick with the allotment, or find an alternative at home.

In other parts of this garden, the bits you never see if you come to a workshop, I have the veggie garden mentioned above, and two other potential areas for veg growing.  One of these is a long and quite narrow stretch of fairly poor quality lawn and borders right outside the back door.  This was, until a few years ago, in deep shade from two huge trees which I had to have removed due to their dangerous proximity to the house.  In the intervening years this area has recovered and with some further tree removal, I think this could be a good candidate for vegetable growing Area 2.

There is also a further bit of land, bigger than the lawn, with a large open wood store at the end.  It is partly paved, partly border – empty border, as I had a big hedge grubbed out 18 months ago.  This, with the removal of the slabs and the rocks, and some levelling work could be the area where the frankly pathetically useless brassica cage would go.  This area would be a good candidate for vegetable growing Area 3.

If I add all this up, it is at least as big as an allotment.  But of course, some of it is less favoured than my allotment mainly due to the shade.  If I then change the way I grow vegetables I think I can be at least as productive but with less effort.  I have learned a lot about allotmenting these past 3 years.  Such as how to grow new vegetables, how to work with barrier and other organic deterrents to have 100% organic veg (with sometimes limited success but anyway…).  And I have learned that growing veg in raised beds is an utter joy.  I only have 4 plus some tyre beds – new for this year – but this is my most successful and most enjoyable growing, really.  Yes, the squash and the courgettes and beans have thrived in open ground.  But all root crops, salad, peas, edible flowers and garlic do very much better in raised beds.  The crops that do well in the open will also do even better, I imagine, in raised beds.

So, the allotment project will continue but in 2018, it will gradually move here and 80% of it will be devoted to raised beds, with gravel paths round each one.  Even in the cage, it will be a raised bed garden.  Raised beds do not need digging, ever.  They are easy to clear, provide protection against some flying and most soil-dwelling pests. They are easy to net, and are a bit warmer than open ground all year round.  The downsides are:  you get a bit of lost space and they need watering in dry spells.  This latter is not a problem if it is at home, but it was, a bit, at the allotment.

The preparation work started at home this weekend.  We cleared Area 3 of a ton of rocks, some old path lining, the gravel and a bit of other stuff.  This was back-breaking but not as bad as digging was 3 years ago.  Next, I will take down the cage at the allotment and reconstruct it here. It will need to be smaller but it is modular.  Then we will build the prototype beds – 2 to start with and perfect this skill for as little outlay of money and effort as possible.  Then we will make the maximum number we can fit into the cage and lay slabs (recovered from the ground of Area 3) and gravel as paths.  This has to be first as I plant into the cage from May onward and still harvest into February – but after October it won’t be my allotment any more.

Step 2:  lift the turf on Area 2.  Level and populate with more beds, and gravel paths.  Step 3:  as the raised beds and tyre beds at the allotment become empty from mid-summer, deconstruct, bag the earth and bring it all back to plant seeds for late summer and autumn crops here.  Step 4:  take raspberry root cuttings at the allotment and plant them here – they are great.  Step 5:  prepare the original Area 1 for crops that really need an open position such as broad beans.  Step 6:  transplant all herbs from Area 1 to Area 2, in raised beds.  This will liberate more space in Area 1, too. I love planning, don’t you?

Here are some pics.  These show Areas 1 – 3, and also the work in progress and to date on Area 3, which began this weekend.

If I don’t like it or am too sad about the allotment, I can still keep it!  But you know, it’s just not the same there.  It is no longer a haven.  So I do not think that will happen.  It’s not as much fun, or as calming and enjoyable. I don’t enjoy going as I did before – and that is partly influenced by factors that I cannot see changing.

Onward.  I can put all my energy into Project Allotment At Home.  I don’t think I would ever have had the confidence or the planning ability – or even the very idea – to do this (if it works) if I had not had my allotment.  So as with most things in life, they lead you to things that you didn’t foresee – but they too, are good. Veg on!

Dear Diary

January 22nd, 2018

Do you keep a diary? I mean a record of your days, rather than an appointment book?

I don’t, but I have tried to in the past, with very limited success.  Like (I think) all school girls, I used to start a diary every January and confide my thoughts to it.  These usually seemed to consist of lists of food I had eaten.  The agony of ‘crushes’ on boys sometimes got a mention, along the lines of:  ‘AB at rehearsals today.  He didn’t speak to me, as usual.’  And:  ‘Have just heard that AB is going out with Janet P!!!!  How can he???  Went to the pictures with Ann.  Ate a whole family sized bag of Revels.  Why coffee Revels??? Ate them anyway.’

One entry reads: ‘Had my hair permed today!!! It’s not what I expected.  Is in fact ginger frizz now. I look even more awful than usual and obviously cannot go to school.  Wonder if Mum will let me stay at home until it is grown out???  Had beans and Angel Delight for tea. Watched Doctor Who.’  And later:  ‘Mum says I need to sleep in rollers to get the perm to be curly not frizzy.  This is absolute TORTURE, even the foam ones.  Very disappointed.  Look nothing like Frida in Abba!!  Went round Ann’s and we had fish and chips from the shop.’  Then:  ‘It is the school disco tonight and Mum says I am not allowed to wear makeup but I am taking eye-shadow and lipstick anyway!!’  Later:  ‘School disco was V V V GOOD!!! Had a slow dance with MB at the end!!!  Linda G went round the back of the pavilion with a boy from the 5th year!!! Had a drink of pineapple juice and a bag of crisps.  AB not there.’

I never kept a diary going for more than a few weeks.  My life was so tedious, even to me, I couldn’t face recording it for long. I am glad I did some entries though and I have kept them, along with my school reports and some hideously cringe-worthy poems I wrote as a teenager.

If I was to keep a diary now, I have a feeling it would once again degenerate into a series of lists.  Lists of tasks to do/completed; lists of meals, seeds sown, knitting projects…but if we wrote truthfully in our diaries, what would we say?  I am afraid mine would be along these lines:

Monday: Up V V early to drive to Manchester.  Would be very sorry indeed to recount my feelings about this.  Manchester, from where I have been absent for at least 13 happy years, is the place of my birth and early childhood.  I then had an enforced reunion with the city and especially its neighbour, Stockport, when my parents inexplicably moved back up there.  This baffling decision led ultimately to years of hospital visits as Mum became very unwell and infirm…client v nice.  Odd canteen/cafe arrangement for staff, where I note they serve giant Yorkshire puddings, filled with mashed potatoes.  I had the cauliflower soup, served in a tall polystyrene cup.  Luckily I had a stash of emergency cold sausages and some carrot sticks.  Consumed this secretively as was overcome with shame – why?

Wednesday:  Unpacked a Christmas gift – a day-light, anti-sad lamp.  I asked for this.  I am hoping that it will alleviate customary profound January – March melancholy.  I have it beside me now, as I type, bathing the left side of my head and shoulders with dazzling white light.  Can this really work, I ask myself?  Answer comes there none but so far I feel the same.  Along with this, I am also taking turmeric tablets plus black pepper as said to convey almost magical properties of healing/illness prevention for almost all known conditions.  Am I, as I strongly suspect, a shallow fool, easily lured into false beliefs?  I will let you know, dear diary.

Friday:  The highlight of my day is the menu planning, shopping list activity that I do every week.  In this, I compile 2 lists.  One is the week ahead in menu form.  This is only for evening meals as even I cannot plan every breakfast and lunch.  It is annotated with notes about who I am expecting to be at home, and any other activities that might impact the list.  These are exclusively gym classes as am now v painfully aware that I have absolutely no social life and furthermore, actively do not want one.  The other list is for Things To Buy This Week.  I have audited the freezer and this informs me that I (still) urgently need to prepare a meal of soya-protein sausages (Q:  why did I buy them?  A:  none supplied), plus frozen soya beans and other home-grown beans from the allotment.  This seems too focused on soya and also beans.  I write it down for Tuesday anyway, fully aware that come Tuesday I will be frantically substituting something nicer.  Or that if I do serve it, there will be silent rebuke from the family as they balefully shove different incarnations of soya about their plates.  Cheer myself up by brief audit of cleaning cupboard and toiletries cupboard. Note that my hoarding is now becoming critical.  No-one, not even a professional cleaner which I certainly am not, needs 24 sponge scourers.

Saturday:  Customary silent struggle with Self precedes attendance at the gym for 2 morning classes.  I go, but am angry (unreasonably and pointlessly) with Self for going but also know that feeling of disappointment in Self if I shirk it will be far worse. Wish I had not worn patterned leggings when I accidentally see myself in the partially steamed-up mirror and am painfully reminded of the widening effect of geometric stripes.  Note that I am, again, clearly the 2nd oldest person there.  Am not proud of feeling of satisfaction when far younger, fitter and definitely more attractive class-mate gets cramp in the brutal Leg Session of BLT.  Spend entirety of second class thinking about food.  Decide definitely on a salad for lunch, enlivened by maybe some tuna. In the end, go to Asda and buy a tiger loaf with which to consume c1/2 lb of salted butter. Pop salad back in ‘fridge…

Sunday:  Watch Netlix for far too long.  Worry (but not enough to stop) that I am becoming addicted to programmes made by The Hallmark Channel.  Definite softening of brain function appears to be side effect.  Do not care.  Have finally and absolutely abandoned any pretext of intellectual capacity, preferring instead programmes about Canadian Mountie and school ma’am sweetheart.

Monday:  Am dismayed by appointment in diary, in my own hand-writing, committing me to a social engagement this evening that is not a gym class.  Recall, yet again, that writing in dates when still weeks away confers a feeling that it will never happen, despite absolute certainty that I understand the concept of time.  This will require me to get dressed in something other than pyjamas or gym clothes and actually leave the house.  After dark.  In January.  Toy with brief and wild fantasy in which I go to Devon or somewhere not that far away, for a few weeks, starting today.  But then cannot bear scenario which flashes through imagination in which the dogs pine away and die while I selfishly bury myself in countryside escape.  So do go out with group of acquaintances.  Spend evening in freezing corner of pub which is also so dimly lit I cannot really see and has such a low ceiling that conversation mainly eludes me, noise buffeting off the ceiling in booms.  Am introduced to nice looking woman who I am told knits and crochets; mutual acquaintance tells nice woman that I am a knitting designer and teacher which naturally instantly causes NW to never speak to me again all night. Come home and sit by open oven door for half an hour.  Decide once and for all that I will never go out again, except with family or to gym.

Tuesday:  Go to village meeting this evening in village hall.  In most un-motherly way, also force Lily to come with me.  This is a crazy departure for me as I have only been in the village hall about 4 times, usually when bullied into something by Hilda.  This meeting is about the imminent closure of the village Post Office which I very much regret.  I attempt to get into the hall, but am brought to a sudden halt by vision of about 6 or 7 elderly people, wearing what I think are pyjamas or very baggy tracksuits, occupying entirety of hall, slowly moving arms and legs in manner observed on a programme once about old people in Japan.  Naturally I assume I am asleep and dreaming, OR that I have the wrong day, but a man walks past and I realise the meeting must be in Another Room, Round the Back.  We stumble round hall path in inky darkness and shove sticky door open hard, into elderly lady, and surge into a tiny room, packed with about 60 villagers only 2 of whom I recognise.  Think that old Tai Chi people could have easily fitted in here and decline invitation to sit down so close to someone I might as well have sat on their lap.  Realise at once that I am not in agreement with the main suggestion that we all BUY the existing PO and run it as a community venture but feel I cannot just walk out not least as exit now barred by further late-comers.  Spend very uncomfortable and hot hour standing up, and imagining the viral soup which is brewing in the now fetid, slightly damp atmosphere.  Sprint home, drenched in icy sweat. Agree with Lily that we will Not Join Committee as we have no idea how to raise money to buy and then run a PO.  Not to mention slender time resources. Break soya-based meal news to family who become mutinous. I hastily substitute frankfurters but remain firm on question of soya beans. Not a success…

So you see, the passage of time has really not enlivened my life enough to make it worthy of record.  If anything I think the school disco days were rather more fun.  I’ll spare you any further insights – unless something really exciting happens such as turning out the apple store…

 

The Shetland Adventure – and some Fairisle Nerd Stuff

January 9th, 2018

Here’s a nice write up by Muddy Stilettos about the tour I am heading up this summer.

The designs for this are at the prototype phase – in my head and my note book.  I know I am going to design a throw that can be steeked – indeed, it must be steeked or remain a tube for ever.   I think this will possibly have a miniaturised version – a tubular scarf.  This is dependent on the design for the Fairisle chart.

For example, this design would be perfect for throws, scarves or cowls:

But this one (still a WIP), not so much for scarves, though it would be very possible with an off-set addition, as it is motif based:

None of the above will be the new Shetland designs, but as an added bonus, you can choose any of my other Fairisle designs as a gift-pattern, including my all-time favourite (so far) the Bee Designs:

One of the many things we will be teaching on this tour is the importance of the top or dominant yarn when knitting Fairisle.  Because we will also be teaching you how to carry yarns in both hands, you will be able then to choose which yarn – say A or B, or the background and the motif shades – you prefer to ‘dominate’ the pattern you are creating.  I think this is fascinating stuff, but then I am HRH, The Queen of Nerd, as you will find to your delight on Shetland.  You see, if you carry A in your right hand and B in your left, and A is your motif, it will sort of stand out more.  This is more of an issue if you are knitting with closely matched shades.  This difference in appearance is about how the wrong side stranding lies.  All will be revealed on Shetland.

There will also be another version of the same basic design that will not be steeked and the problem is I keep changing my mind about whether this will be a hat – possibly a tam; or mitts; or a cowl.  Nice dilemma though.  I do want one to be fairly small so it might be finished while we are away!

But the main thing I want is to pass on my absolute passion for this style of knitting.  I know my Fairisle is not super traditional, but that’s why I love it so much – this ancient knitting craft is so adaptable to both traditional and modern designs.  I am sure you will love it too. And if you already do, you will love it more.

The flight info for this tour has now been added to the ECT Travel website.  I would really love to share this adventure with you!

 

Your Voice

January 1st, 2018

It’s good to look back.  In fact at the very threshold of a new year, it is almost inevitable.  2017, you were good.  There was a lot of new.  New teaching events, for example, notably Knit Camp which dominated my knitting year in a number of amazing ways.

I have been blogging here for ages now.  Rambling on.  It’s always been my aim to make it a blog by a knitter, not a knitting blog.  So this is my knitting voice.  Mainly, plus a fair bit of my personal voice.  My personal life is so intwined with knitting that they are often just the same.  But once or twice I have got into a spot of bother for saying things that a few people objected to.  At the time, it really did bother me.  In fact, in one instance I actually apologised.  I really, really wish I hadn’t done that.  I wish I had (politely) but publicly told them to F off and scroll on by if they didn’t like or agree with my views.  And I still think, beautiful through it is, St Ives is so far up its own back-spout, it can see daylight. So there.

But I have other life areas – other voices – that hardly ever make it to this blog.  For example, I have another ‘job’, in which I use a totally different set of clothes.  And probably an almost totally different set of ‘skills’.  The other job is about corporate governance and it enables me to draw on work experiences from previous what-I-lightheartedly-call-careers. In a nut shell, I work for a company that carries out formal and independent reviews of plc Boards, to assess their effectiveness across a range of Board responsibilities, activities and duties, with regard to the UK Corporate Governance Code.

I really do love this work.  It is varied, it can be challenging, and it is always interesting.  Usually, these two lives do not meet, except for the time I left a bag of knitting in a Board interview and had to be summoned back by the kind but very baffled Chairman, in order to retrieve it.

I don’t blog about this because it’s not my business.  Also, it’s confidential.  Also, unless you are carrying out the work or the subject of it, it’s probably not *that* interesting.  But in this work, I certainly have a different voice.  And no pink in my hair.  Apparently.

Do I have a different ‘private’ voice? Of course I do.  I know I share with you my thoughts on recycling, cabbage white fly and cycling for example, but the day to day mundane is something I spare you.  You’re welcome.  It makes me think though that we probably all do, don’t we?  There is, from time to time, discussion on the interwebs about makers, designers, artists etc finding and using their unique voice as they establish their brand.  I don’t think this applies to me.  Maybe it should!

Happy 2018 to you. May the yarn only be knitted, and never be knotted. May the beads always sparkle.  May your stash never fall upon you.  If you have never been on a workshop with me, why not try it in 2018? There are still a few places left on the 2018 events at Court Cottage and I have also accepted some new teaching invitations this year – more on these soon.  Best wishes and thanks for popping in, dear reader.

The Last Day of Christmas

December 25th, 2017

Happy Christmas!  It is Christmas morning and the pattern elf has placed this little design in your stocking.

Smoke and Mirrors detail for needle case

It is the Smoke and Mirrors Felted Needle Case that is the companion to my Smoke and Mirrors bag pattern.  This uses 2 shades of Felted Tweed and some beads.  I think this is a perfect post-Christmas project and you might have some left-over yarn you can use.  Other yarns may be alright, but do test them first to make sure they will felt.  The temperature that you use may vary.

I hope you have enjoyed the 12 Days of Christmas pattern give-away.  I am going to leave this last one up as a free pattern into 2018.

Thank you for following my blog, coming to my events, buying my designs and generally being great.

Ali x

 

The Shetland Tour, July 2018

December 22nd, 2017

Just to let you know that ECT Travel have now up-dated the tour to include flights!  Here is the link.  I do hope you can come on my Fairisle knitting adventure on Shetland!

Image

 

 

Traditional Fair Isle – Modern Design: Your Shetland Knitting Adventure. 27 – 31 July 2018

December 11th, 2017

In July, I have been asked to lead a Fairisle knitting holiday in Shetland.  To say I am excited is an understatement.  In the same way that saying I quite like knitting is an understatement.

Lerwick

This is the full immersion Fairisle experience.  No distractions.  No ‘work’.  Nothing to do except knit, learn, explore the island and its rich history, relax and have fun.  Here!

The company that is hosting the event is ECT Travel in Bath, and we came across each other during my early preparations for Knit Camp 2017. That was ages ago and the idea they floated of collaborating seemed miles away, but after Knit Camp we go together and so we have drawn up a knitting holiday based in Lerwick.  You can  see the full itinerary and details here.

It will be from 27 – 31 July 2018.  We will have a whole FIVE DAYS together!  And if that is a bit alarming, do not be afraid, because I have of course asked Kathryn to join me so we will be teaching together and generally having such a lot of fun with you all.

Shetland Textile Museum

There is teaching, of course there is teaching, this is me, but it is not a Boot Camp experience (as some of you have been known to murmur when you thought I could not hear).  No, there are trips and visits every day; trips out together – and dinners with the high possibility of knitting at almost all times.

 

I love Fairisle knitting more than any other knitting.  And I love knitting it in a traditional way, usually in the round, sometimes I steek it, I always adhere to the 2-colours-only-in-a-row guideline (rule), and I do sometimes include traditional motifs.  But more often I add my own modern twists with non-traditional motifs, use of beads and even yarns such as Kidsilk Haze.

On this Shetland adventure, I will be showing you and teaching two brand new designs, designed especially for ECT Travel. I will draw upon the magic of the islands, but I will definitely be introducing some modern twists.

Jamieson and Smith

The teaching will focus on:

  • How to knit perfect Fairisle, in the round.
  • Charts – reading, and knitting from, charts.
  • Stranding and tension:  getting this right is the key to perfect Fairisle. I can help you.
  • How to knit with the yarns in two hands – if you want to try this.  And trust me, it is the easiest and fastest way.
  • How to never, ever, get in a muddle with the balls of yarn.
  • How to prepare for, and cut a steek; then how to finish the steek.  This is optional.
  • How to incorporate your own design ideas into your Fairisle knitting if you want to.  This is entirely optional, but we can draw upon the inspiration around us and help you to get your ideas onto paper and the needles.

I will be on hand at all times* to help and encourage you!

Everyone who comes with us will have a choice of my other Fairisle patterns as a gift, but I will be focusing on the new designs – one larger (a throw) that will be steeked, but there will also be a design that does not need to be steeked.  So if steeking is not your thing, you do not have to. But…isn’t this the perfect time to learn it, with us there to hold your hand every step of the way? (Obvs I won’t actually hold your hand or neither of us will be able to get any knitting done.  Just a metaphor). You will have both patterns for the new designs too.

I will be emailing the group at regular intervals with news, images and up-dates on Project Shetland.  ECT have an amazing reputation for really exciting innovative hosted holiday adventures so we will all be in very safe hands.  We even get a Tour Manager!  Kath came over all rock ‘n roll when she heard this, but I have talked her out of the leather trouser plus bandanna combo…

One thing we do need.  YOU!  Please come with us.  I can promise you the best time.

*I will not be with you at all times, never fear.  Just most of the time. Nor do I stay up beyond 10.00 pm so there will be respite.

View and book here.