six and a half stitches

WHERE LIGHT TREADS SOFTLY

Glorious light.

The cool crisp light of winter. Clear. Bright. Unusually tinged with warmth for winter - almost springlike. Yellow leaves still left over from a lengthy autumn tinge the paths and sky. And sunsets - such beautiful sunsets we've been having.

In my little study the light streams through for most of the day. It's one of the nicest times of year to be in here. The cats join me on the windowsill bathing in their little spot of absolute heat. I've had a small respite this week, with one child and my husband away staying with family while he sorts out some of the affairs of his brother ahead of time. For me a moment to catch my breathe, look around, and finally clear some space. Surfaces wiped clean. Piles demolished. Extraneous detail thrown out. A slow gentle cull of build up while listening to music and in between school pick up and rop offs. It's been hard to stop, I could keep culling - as the surfaces grew clearer and cleaner and more paired back I wanted more, I saw more, I stopped. There's still a corner to be dealt with, but that will have to wait another week till I once again have some hours to myself.

I love the rediscovery of things hidden, or bereft of place until the right moment. A small silver cut out ornament which hangs above me, fine filigree dancing in the light, a gift from a friend in a christmas card a few years ago, kept because of it's delicacy. Directly behind it on the shelf, a small but heavy glass vase, deep and smoky, chiseled and molten in it's form and detail, something cheap picked up locally recently. With the light changing through the day in this room, the colours of both catch and change, and reflect a little of the outside.

WHERE SPIDERS LIVE

 

 

[] " This is my deconstructivist piece - reinterpreting neatness and detail into something which is purely structure based - anarchy of stitches being let slid into ripped back ladders [] gaping holes tearing through and being reformed [] loose open weaves of linen married with unstructured stitches, each fold twist and overlap bare and exposed. Constriction and openess alongside each other. There's a rawness about this which I love - a natural rawness. " []

I wrote that almost a year ago as an affirmation of what I wanted to achieve with this piece - a schematic thought of fibre arts that meet notions of architectural theory. Now it lies folded up beside me, and I see through it, within it, and my imagination is once again captured.

An open weave of silver grey strands, falling and disintegrating through dropped stitches, clinging together around openings wide and gaping as increases and decreases create the hollows and transparency of cobweb lace. Fine linen holding it's shape, light and airy, yet with quiet stiffness which will change over time as it is worn. Finally my little cobweb piece is finished, after nearly a year sittting on needles picked up and put down as time permited and my enthusiasm waxed and waned.

Blocking the finished piece has given it a lightness - a small breathe might surely make it fly, catching debris and insects along the way.

MILKING TIME

 

mariposa : wilfred : a cows! with horns! : jingle : heather the heffer : shirl : sundance : marigold : doris : mike : claudia : moo : clive : wimbeldon : taratella : audumbla [one of my favourites] : herbert : myrtle : madonna : mooy : alexander : mo : derek : milky white : ermintrude [another good classic cow's name] : sydney : butter : zoot : farmer : belvedere : betsey : goldie : boo : moccu : sat : howie : milka : ferdinand : martha : george : alphonse : flossy : berlingot : harriet : clarabelle : clara : buttercup : herbert : simon : stella mckellar from bella's wine cellar : mocha : six and a half cow : sam : lidija : mergel : moo : bernice the monkey cow : missy moo cow : lembu : betsy : buttercup : blue : clarissa : bertrude : bessie : daisy the butterflies : mooey : mabel : milka

All the names, all lined up, all so wonderful in their choices. I have particularly loved reading what the children would call the cow....especially knowing my two just looked at me slightly puzzled and said:

" but you call it cow, because that's what it is".

There is one name missing though...and that's the cow's real name.

Eli. And there's no problem with jelly bean supplies I hear!

Thankyou to everyone who took part, to your children for helping with names, and for having a little fun.

TO MARKET WE WILL GO

 

One last cow sits forlorn on top of my chest of drawers, a little dolls quilt the only thing to keep them company. As promised in my last post I'd like this one to go to a good home where the grass is green and lush and the jelly beans flow freely. What I'd also like to do is to give away the dolls quilt the cow sits on as well, becaue the cow will get cold with all the travel they'll be doing. The quilt is the piece that I contributed to the Meet Me At Mikes book and it's a beautiful combination of linen, Liberty print and Amy Butler fabrics. To be in the running, leave a comment by 10pm Tuesday June 23rd and I'll randomly pick a number out and that person will get the cow. And if you have the inclination, perhaps you might also like to think of a name for this dear little cow!

1 3 5 6 1 6 6 2 1 1 1 2 0 1

 

It started with 1*. Then 3 were on the table. And then 5. And it ended with a 6th sitting on top of a pile of wool. It turns out I can't just make 1 stuffed toy***. I have to make 6. Do I have 6 children to give stuffed cows to? No. I don't. Did that seem to make any difference to making them? No. It didn't. 2 are for friends who have just had babies. 1 is for Pia. And if Pia gets 1 then Max has to have 1 as well. And then I needed 1. Except Max saw my version - the grey wool/hand dyed linen and fur one above, and instantly fell in love with 'Ninja Cow' so now he technically has 2 and I have 0. Which leaves 1 left over**. And that will be given away in a special giveaway next week along with some other goodies.

 

 

 

* And the pattern you all ask....the pattern is from Meet Me At Mikes and is the 'Udderly Lovely Cow' by Fliss Dodd and is a great, simple pattern to put together. I used pieces of fabric from the Moda Wonderland Fabric range, spotted and striped fabrics from stash, linens from Yorktown Road and Linnet and wool felt from stash for the coloured cows. For the Ninja Cow I used wool, hand dyed linen by me, and some fur coat fabric from stash.

**The cow which has not been claimed so far and will be given away is the cow in the front of the last photo, and whose details are in the other two photos above it.

*** It was a wonderful distraction from everything going on at home. It gave me something to focus on other than google searches, and the many conversations going on. I want to thank every person who wrote and commented on my last post. We have a few very hard months ahead of us, wandering into the unknown amid confusion and frustration, and we hope it will be done with as much warmth as we can all give, not just to my brother in law, but to each of us involved. Thankyou for thinking of us, and of him.

A MINDLESS POINT OF INTERRUPTION

 

Past [] The cold of a winter morning engulfed in quiet white fog. Colour sucked out, to be revealed later as it lifts and draws away. But for now, it blankets the land in stillness, in calm grey silhouettes fading out rapidly in the foreground. The fog is a momentary lapse of time - a mindless point of interruption between past present and future.

Present [] Three generations of women working in the kitchen making gnocchi for lunch. The elder woman, my husband's mother, combining potatoes and flour to make a dough, Pia sitting on the bench helping her add flour laughing away - the two of them laughing at the frivolity of the other. I talk, and roll the gnocchi pieces across a fork end as they are handed to me, and Pia joins in doing her own deconstructivist abstract interpretation of rolling gnocchi. They are good, like they always are.

Future [] Late in the afternoon we sit waiting in a hospital room while my husband's brother lies in a bed, his breathing difficult and painful, and a morphine haze surrounding him. Gentle talk occasionally - short, direct - but gentle, and exhausting as we try and catch up on the speed with which all this has happened, the aggression with which his body has been overtaken. There's a conversation about to be had when two Dr's walk in the room that we all need to happen, and we all know what will be said, but which will change our family forever. We will cry. And hold each other close. And we will return home and tell two parents their son is dying. Not today. Not next week. But soon.

Then we will talk. And talk. And cry.

And laugh. We will do this with dignity.

And warmth.

TO HOLD A HAND

 

The first day of winter [according to a seasonal prescribed division of time based calender] and it feels like winter. No longer are trees covered in orange and yellow leaves - they are now stripped branches left entwined and exposed, a bare framework of skeletal remains hovering against grey skies. Strength and filigree playing against each other. And the skies have been grey. Dull grey. Where the sun tries to break through, and kind of does, but then hides again, dipping the temperature.

A time for winter coats to come out and necks to be wrapped in knitwear. Hot baths after a run. Hot chocolate after swimming for the children. And perhaps extra layers in bed. A friend keeps asking me what I will make next....and I'm tempted to say a quilt. But I know I'm being swayed by soft toys at the moment. Something quick and simple, and something to give to new babies being born. An affirmation of life. And of colour, I think I need colour against this backdrop. Contrasts - it's always about contrasts.

And for us it will also be a time to spend with family and to hold a hand, keep it warm, and love.

FOR ENJOYMENT

 

I threw my head into cooking.

To focus my mind elsewhere, away from some of the life things happening which I can't control and which are not about me, but which have thrown me off course, and to make the waiting for answers a little less laboured. Cooking focuses me. It calms me. It brings me back to what is important - sustaining - giving energy and strength through dishes made well and cooked with love.

One of my Finding Joy pieces was to find new things to cook - simple recipes, complex recipes, adding to staples, or one off pieces just for the sake of it. While I may have fallen short of 2 new dishes each week, I've not done too badly.

i [] After a very delicious brunch at Di's house a short while ago on a whirlwind trip to Melbourne, I decided that I really did have to get my act together and make home made baked beans. Such a simple, hearty, tasty dish, it seemed silly to be buying baked beans in tins when a homemade batch would be such a decadent version, and much better for us. I looked to Apples For Jam for inspiration, and then imporovised a great deal when a third of the ingredients weren't in my cupboards. The result was trully good. Deep tomato rich beans speckled with ham and basic herbs. Add in fried haloumi and fresh sourdough and it's a definite new staple.

ii [] Max wanted chocolate muffins. So sifting through another firm favourite cookbook, I decided to make chocolate olive oil muffins. I made them to the letter. And I'll leave this by saying for my tastes, and Max's tastes, chocolate and olive oil don't mix. They weren't that great, so we wont be making them again, but I am glad we tried them. I find this book a little hit and miss [I think I've said that before as well] - when you get a good recipe it's magic, but there's a few in there which don't work as well.

iii [] I fell in love with tea smoked dishes in of all places, London. The Providores did an excellent tea smoked salmon for breakfast and it was a staple weekend order for me. Smoking meats of any kind is something I've been wanting to try for a long time so when a recent episode of Masterchef had a tea smoked duck recipe.... I knew we had to have it for dinner one night. Last week I did the tea smoked duck, but with ginger soba noodles and bok choy. The smoking part was easy, and so damn effective, although the house really smelt of smoked tea for a good day afterwards. I would most definately do this again - the bonus being that Max and Pia both ate the duck and said it was nice, although Max quite rightly suggested perhaps I didn't kill ducks for his dinner anymore because it upset him.

iv [] It's always dangerous at our house when a new issue of Gourmet Traveller pops through our letter box. My eyes glass over and lists get made very quickly. I sat in full list contemplation mode through the week, having fallen very much in lust with the Triple Chocolate Praline Tart on the cover [set aside an entire afternoon though - the pastry needs to set for two lots of hour long periods, and the chocolate mixtures both need about an hour each to set in the freezer and longer in the fridge so it's time indication is a little misleading]. Can I just say - this is the most splendid chocolate tart. So incredibly rich. So decadent in the intense amounts of chocolate needed. And the time involved in making:resting:resting again:baking:setting:setting again etc made eating it all the more luxurious. A definite make for a dinner party, and I'm almost sad I didn't think to invite anyone over to help eat it. There's still more left if anyone wants to volunteer. And I made a pumpkin curry as a main, also from the same issue - another one I'd probably skip making again. It seemed bland to us, and almost like it was missing an essential ingredient to give it that 'pop'.

And now I turn my attention to a mandarin tree starting to turn colour, and wondering what I might do with a large quantity of manadarins - or at least the ones we can't eat oursleves. I had thought of making mandarin curd, and there's manadarin jam as well - anyone got any good ideas to share?

THE RABBIT HOLE

As the sun steams in through my study window warming the room and bathing everything in autumnal colours, a cup of tea in my hand and new wool to play with, I can finally start relaxing. I have made some lists - some daydreaming lists, some food lists, and some project lists, and some things to do around the house lists.

Two main things now crossed off my lists today:

[1] - I have now made the shadow[]box pattern available on Ravelry as a free download. It's an easy pattern, and quite open to exploration of different forms if you so choose. I hope you have as much fun with it as I have had.

[2] - I have also now updated the Etsy store with some capes left over from the markets. I have a couple more things to add, but might need to take some extra photos for them.

And new wool arrived - shibuiknits in sand as well as a few other colours new and restocked. Now I can sit and plan and swatch. And the tape it's sitting on....the most beautiful storybook printed tape by LillaLotta which will have to adorn something beautiful for Pia very soon. Almost time to go and pick up a child from school, and walk through golden leaf filled streets and have a moment of thought to myself.

CAUGHT IN THE SHADOWS

 

Caught in their shadows.

[]

Complete. Folded drapes hiding memories, hiding dreams lost within time and place. Holding within them the scent of a touch and the faded remnants of a breathe against your neck. Wrapped bulk, decadent in it's simplicity and strength in it's structure. Or it's lack of structure. It's refined shape. Worn loose, loopy drapes falling across the chest plate revealing what's underneath, fingers tracing warm skin. Worn tight, bound through layers with a large bone button at the neck, gentle undulations caressing one shoulder, arms wrapped around, sheltering against the rain. The softness of two wools entwined, moulded and worn against each other, lost in the light of the moon, caught in their shadows, black on black on grey on grey. Cold air shut out, the body braced with warmth. Shadows creasing through dark streets and laneways, lit only by street lamps and the glisten of water from leaky drainpipes.

I know where this will be worn. I know how this will be worn. I am waiting for the collision of time and place.

[pattern to follow soon]