London Calling - the joy of knitting

What  is it about knitting that is so satisfying?  It's certainly not quick gratification.  You might be able to complete a sewing project in a day but there are very few significant knitting projects you could do.  I cannot get my fingers and thumbs round crochet so I couldn't comment on that one.  No, I think it is that sense of something evolving and growing as you work and watch.  It's the challenge of making a motif work whether it be lace or colourwork.  It's the joy of adapting something to make it fit.  It's the pleasure of snuggling under a blanket you have knitted.  It's a sense of pride and achievement.

That's the achievement side but there is the joy of the yarn.  The soft, silkiness of blended, the warmth and lightness of aalpaca and then the pure wool.  A contrast - a the crispness of cotton.  All with bright rich colours.

"This is London" Lillibulero plays, some emotive memories from my childhood in Brazil.  What makes your home city special?  What is it that calls to you?  Pulls on the heartstrings?  What mementos do you have?  Looking back, it is strange how knitting has come and gone as an activity but it's now back for good and a real passion.

I first learnt to knit aged 9 (?).  Unlike many it wasn't with my Mother or Grandmother.but at school.  The first things I knitted were a pair of garter stitch slippers and a solid green tank top. the slippers wore out but I still have the tanktop somewhere.

With the encouragement of my Grandmother I took up knitting again as I left school and then had fun taking it inter-railing.  I have a few sweaters from this stage of my knitting career and I found one that showed I had an early love of intarsia - didn't know it had a fancy name. I don't remember knitting it. I found another sweater in a cupboard and that demonstrated my lack of knowledge of tension. I knitted it for me but it fits my Mother who is much taller than I am perfectly!

Now we come to my current reincarnation. I work anti-social hours. it's easy to open a bottle of wine at the end of the day or send angry emails because everyone is asleep. Now I am happy for hours with my knitting!  It comes everywhere with me as I hate not looking out of windows. Now I can tell you about everything I knit and where!

To be a pilgrim ...

In April I completed the North Downs Way via Canterbury.  it is the longer, less spectacular but nevertheless satisfying route.  The weather wasn't great but with 3 nights on the road it was challenging!

The first leg took me to Chilham.  It wasn't long but boy did it rain!  The route took me past the last church that the Pilgrims gathered at before reaching Canterbury.  they would wait until there was safety in numbers as the next section through King's Wood was fraught with perils of robbers who would assault our poor pilgrims.  Today according to the North Downs Way bible the biggest risk seems to be bumping into a wild boar.  I however found the wood to be of young growth, muddy and grey.  I did meet a cyclist but that was it.  However the route was atmospheric as the silence and damp reminded me of how tough the pilgrims would have had it.

Sunday dawned bright and cheerful!  Ready for my arrival in Canterbury on a warm Spring day.  Sadly the first bit of this section isn't inspiring at all as it was mainly over roads.  You pass a pub called the Chapel Arms with its pub sign in Canterbury Cathedral colours to remind you of what you are doing.  You hope that some woods and apple orchards will get you in the mood as you pass the iron age castle but no.  A small group of people are doing some motorbike rallying.  Once that it is over you cross the A2 and walk beside it.  So you don't reach Canterbury in a reflective mood but rather a, at least that is over, mood.  But then you reach Canterbury and that changes.

Canterbury - a city that bustles, a city with students and cafe culture, a city of history and medieval buildings. For me, a city of the sun.  First stop for the pilgrim, St Dunstan's church - where Sir Thomas More's head is possibly buried and where Henry II stopped to don sackcloth to prepare for the final homage to St Thomas a Becket.  From there to the Cathedral, today crossing the railway line that cuts through but through the keep to the medieval gate.  Inside the gate the peace of a great institution.  I was lucky enough to stay in the grounds in Canterbury Lodge and it was a privilege.  I went to Compline (the final service of the day) and stupidly forgot my glasses.  It wasn't the size of the print that was the problem but the lack of light meant that I strained to see the text!  A moving service with a thoughtful reflection on the reaction to the death of Margaret Thatcher.  And so to bed with a stunning with of the Cathedral lit at night.

I woke to the news of the death of Sir Colin Davis but more of that another time.  A visit to the Cathedral and to pay tribute to Thomas a Beckett.  Going through the tunnel built to divide the pilgrims from the monks meant a lot to me, putting things into context.  Not many of us attended the brief service where the pages of the books of remembrance are turned but I am glad I did and pleased that this is a tradition that we still follow.

Departing Canterbury, I had one of those moments when the mind goes blank.  I decided to get some sugar and went into a small shop and for the life of me couldn't remember what I wanted so asked for Opal Fruits. Fortunately the teenager serving me was used to people with long memories and realised I wanted Starburst.  Oops.  It was sad to see the end of Canterbury but onwards and mass agricultural fields followed.  legs began to ache but at least there was an absence of road.

The final day began well with decent weather and attractive fields.  Sign posts gave ever decreasing mileage and Roman Roads headed to Dover. 

 But oh how modern roads get in the way and I agree with the author of my bible that there should be a direct crossing over the A2 instead of the detour!
 
By now the fog was coming in from the sea and the great views I was hoping for were obscured and so it became a limp to the bottom.  It is a good finish line but on a grey day with no one around, it was a trek back to the station and a bad cup of coffee to celebrate.

The high speed train took me past various bits of the route and I was left reflecting on the pace of the modern world and thinking that we should reflect a little bit more and take our time to appreciate what we have.

PS What knitting did I take?  Not much for once but the bright blue sweater.

So Long! Farewell! 'A few of my favourite things' (the blanket)

N

As a baby I had a blanket that was "precious blanket" and nicknamed "precious b" well this has become "precious b 2".  We've travelled, walked and now share many memories.  I planned to do two like this - well the reciients are twins.  One I would call fauna and the other flora but when I realised how long it was going to take it became so precious and is now "A few of my favourite things".

There are times when it is really sad to say good-bye to a knitting project even though it is more of an adieu or au revoir as I know I will be visiting.   I have been knitting this for a year and the blanket has come everywhere with me.  It is the 5th blanket I have knitted and the 6th to be completed.  It began life at a workshop given by Debbie Abrahams at Sloane Square's Peter Jones - an auspicious beginning.  I already had Rowan green cotton glace and decided to work in the gold rather than terracotta.  I had inspiration from Debbie's books, the Stitch Companion by Melody Griffith and Lesley Stanfield as well as various other knitting books from which I was prepared to borrow the motifs.  I owe the greatest debt to Sasha Kagan.

The first square to be completed was the toadstools (Lisa Richardson from one of the Rowan children's books).  It was this that first gave me a clue that the blanket could take sometime as it was fun, fiddly and the back looked like spaghetti.  I fell in love with the pattern of the sunflowers and it reminded me of the joy of seeing sunflowers in the kitchen garden of the Provencal asylum that Van Gogh had once been confined in.  The cat was knitted in the USA during the second Presidential debate and I was curled up in an armchair in Boston enjoying its casual progress when the earthquake that happened two hands beforehand struck.  The cat had to be ginger in honour of my cousins' first  cat - a glorious ginger tabby - Nelson.  It has no eyes as the original Nelson was named after the Admiral as he also had one eye and to be symmetrical the knitted cat had to have either two or none.

My cousin's wife has the most lovely watercolour of poppies painted by her mother and - while the original pattern from Sasha Kagan had 4 colours and the petunias are purple in this version - that picture was the inspiration.  The blue tulip - labelled a bluebell in the book reminds me of Spring, the book the Black Tulip and the glories of Kew Gardens.  What is there not to love about balloons -  a reminder of childrens' parties and of the time when my aunt opened the door to a parent at my 3rd birthday.  The Mother looked shocked and commented on how I (the 3 year old) had grown - a bit remarkable as my Aunt is 21 years older than I am! Music my great love.  The texture on this is lovely as the notes strand over the stripes.

The tree has become one of my trademarks and has gone into 3 blankets and will feature on my next picture knit.  The seedheads remind me of my Grandfather who was a GP but when he retired took on a Sussex smallholding looking back to his family farm roots in the North of Ireland.

The ice-cream - here is my one bit of total originality.  I was convinced I had seen a pattern for an ice-cream but I couldn't find one so I spent part of the flight to Boston drawing this one out.  It had to be yellow ice-cream on top as I loved the lemon ice cream I got in Boston and Italy and have wonderful memories of fruit ice-cream from my childhood in Brazil.  The trailing flowers and leaves I knitted on the return trip to Margate with my Mother to see a Turner exhibition.  The lavender takes me back to Provence.  I had fun with the cherries.

So, farewell my blanket.  We've had fun.  The Southwest Coastal Path, the North Downs Way, the USA, Gemany, Avignon and we will always have Paris.  I have knitted on trains, tidied ends on planes, edges on Ways - I will miss you my favourite things!

A few of my favourite things and a North Downs Way Milestone - Dover or bust!

Pilgrims' Way?

Pilgrim Brother Percival - a tribute to Pilgrims, a resident of Pilgrims Way and a neighbour of Marley tiles.

I have been on a high for two days.  I love walking through the English countryside.  I love walking through history, knowing that where I am walking generations have passed before me.  More than any other walk I have done the North Downs Way is that as much of it follows or parallels the routes that the pilgrims took to Thomas A Becket and Canterbury.  There were lodges and resting places - early tourism I suppose and this is one of the few remainders

This weekend was the first weekend walking since October (rather shocked about this!).  I didn't know how fit I was.  I am not that tall and plump.  Exercise not been a priority recently but my job means I do a lot of running around in the physical rather than the mental stage.  Just being outdoors discovering new views, light and colour refreshes me even if I do wake up to find that it is snowing!

Walking through the brutal cold in my walking gear (let's be honest about this - shabby looking Rohan fleece, trail shoes with shoe laces that should be condemned, non-matching gloves and a classy mohair scarf (Rowan aura, Kim Hargreaves design) I am happy.  I began at the Medway and finished in Lenham with a night in Detling.

Let's begin with the shock - snowing at the end of March?  Now warning on BBC.  Thank goodness for warm layers but I was not impressed!

I do owe thanks.  Traveline for warning me buses to Borstal not running on Good Friday (2 more miles on the clock!), Detling Coach House B&B for suggesting I order an Indian rather than struggling to and from the village before light failed, the Dirty Habit in Hollingbourne for one of the best BLTs I have had and not being shocked when my refill for a lime and soda was a coffee!

Having being doing bits of the walk here and there and by train it took this weekend to realise the enormity of the trail.  In part I was inspired by Brother Percival (I keep trying to call him Cuthbert), in part by British Rail (I am that generation).  There is a tribute to the pilgrims and walking in light snow brought it home to me how tough pilgrims have it and particularly those of generations before the delights of goretex.  I was grateful for my layers although the most effective was probably my iceberg wool sweater.  Wool is a great insulator. Having taken 6 hours to walk from Detling it took about 10 minutes to flash past the stations I had avoided and it took half an hour or so on the train home to flash past stations such as Otford which had taken me days to walk through and agony of legs. Some of the pilgrims never made it home, they were away for months. I could phone home, get messages via an ipad but the original pilgrims gave up everything.  We forget that.

As stated on twitter I can pack light but fail when it comes to knitting.  I carry the same amount of stuff for 1 night as I do for 3 in terms of clothes but knitting projects?  This time I was slightly weighted down by yes the blanket.  I think that Brother Percival might have appreciated a slight respite from the cold.




Working on the further routes but I know it is Dover or bust!

On the knitting front, it was an evening when 3 strands become 1 even if not perfectly blocked and stitched.

We'll always have Paris!

Knitting projects
blanket for twins
blue sweater


Twenty four years ago two of us bravely set off for Paris.  Two young historians keen to discover an extraordinary city.   We thought it would be a good time to visit - celebrate 200 years of the Revolution.  What we did not expect was that a lot of Paris would be 'ferme par la  Revolution' as we put it. Much was closed while the Parisians prepared for celebrating the Revolution.  Fortunately that did not include the Eiffel Tower, a mere baby at 100 years old but it did include the Louvre.

That visit gave me one my art highlights of a lifetime.  Rather cold and fed up we dived into the l'Orangerie as it was there and open.  We wondered around upstairs and then made our way downstairs.  I didn't know about Monet's huge waterlilly pictures and there they were.  Breathtaking.  Any time you see them they take you to another world, the peace, beauty and size are overwhelming but to see them for the first time particularly when you didn't know they were there ...

Twenty-four years on we were back.  L'Orangerie has been rebuilt, there is now a collection of impressionists and it is still one of my favourite galleries in the world. This time it is Notre Dame's turn to celebrate.  850 years old and no it is not closed ...

Slightly different perspectives - a reunion, a break and some opera.  Back in Paris and back to Wagner.  This time Walkyrie.  A few naked men but no dancing sperm (a Bayreuth abomination) - a simple production depending on musicality, light and above all great acting.  Have booked for the rest of the cycle.  My travelling extravagance of the year.

We travelled out to Fontainebleu.  Last time it was Versailles.  I hadn't realised how much of Napoleon there was there.  For the first time it struck me - just how much pomp and riches he surrounded himself with.  I wondered why it didn't seem to cause more resentment.  After all the French had only just got rid of one King and now they had an Emperor!

We've agreed - we'll always have Paris and we'll be back in 24 years time!

As for the knitting, back done of vivid blue sweater and on the outbound Eurostar I finished the final square of the blanket.  On the return I finished the embroidery.  Border and final seams to go!

Wake up and smell the coffee. Vive la France!

Why did no one tell me that a possible derivation for Avignon was 'violent wind'?   Maybe the reason why people danced on the bridge at Avignon was to keep warm or dodge the wind?!

Knitting projects - lace silk/marino scarf, deep blue sweater and yes the blanket!

A cote du Pont et a cote du Rhone

Took Eurostar and SNCF down to the south of France.  Not that more expensive than flying would have been as it was a last minute decision and so much easier.  I really don't like the stress of meeting transport deadlines knowing that you have to get there at a certain time and do the checks and bureaucracy.  It was so much simpler when I was a child.  These days it feels like it takes 3 hours to check-in for an internal half hour flight in the US and half an hour for a 3 hour internal flight in NZ.

Trains and planes do seem to be discourteous.  They can be late for you but heaven help you if you are late for them!

Anyway back to business.  I love racing through the countryside watching the world go by.  The only problem with the southbound SNCF train was that they hadn't washed the windows so I couldn't see out!  On the Eurostar I concentrated on working out where I was with the lace scarf I have been knitting but spent more time unpicking it.  Then on SNCF it was the simple rich blue sweater.  Finished the underarm increases and started on the upper shaping but gave it up to read the kindle as the view from the wibdow was unadulterated grime!

There are so many cultural differences between the US and Europe.  I was once asked if I objected to Starbucks being the dominant coffee shop.  My reply - globalisation seems inevitable but bad coffee is not!   On SNCF I was asked which type of bean I preferred in my coffee.  That's never happened before.  Incidentally, buses out of service in Augsberg, Germany say they are on a coffee break!

I didn't fall in love with Avignon the way I did with Arles two years ago.  I think one of the problems was the different time of year but at the same time I was so conscious that almost every building in the old town contained a shop or restaurant.  I much preferred Villeneuve de Avignon (the new town - only 14th century, a bit like New Colllege, Oxford being the 2nd oldest college there) as it felt so much more in keeping with its medieval past.

The Palais des Papes was fantastic.  Large, well presented with a fascinating history.  A bit cold though and I am glad that I have central heating.  Le Petit Palais has an extraordinary art collection with a stunning Botticelli and while I usually l like having galleries to myself, this was intimidating.  As you entered each gallery the member staff on duty watched you in case you damaged anything.  All very well if you are expected to be part of the exhibit but off putting if it's only you.  It left an unpleasant taste in the mouth.

Knitting safely conducted in gardens and on top of one of the Palais' towers.  I have started sewing up the twins' blanket.  One slight problem - seem to have lost one square!

Blankets, Germany, opera and democracy

Nuremberg, Bayretuth, Pottenstein and Augsberg. Nazism, Luther and Leopold Mozart. It was quite a journey.

I may have missed my cousin's wedding but I had my knitting goal - could I finish a 2nd baby blanket?  A few trains helped get the knitting done.  It's amazing how you can knit and gaze out of the windows!

Pictured in Augsberg

The second is waiting for its final square and to be sewn up but it is much better travelled!  In fact it has had a rather splendid year.

First stop was Germany. Nuremberg, Bayreuth, Pottlingen and Augsberg.  

It was quite a journey.  I have a history degree and have studied the Nazis but I wasn't sure whether in Nuremberg I wanted to visit the scenes of the Nazi Rallies but I am glad I did.  These days the stands are crumbling, covered in undergrowth and lacking all of their Nazi symbols but shows that evil regimes can crumble.  For me the really moving place to go was the Courthouse where the Nuremberg trials were held.  I hadn't realised how remarkable they were.  The emphasis on justice, OK so the defendants were less familiar with English / American cross-examination and had less access to documents than the prosecution but every effort was made.  Some were found guilty, two innocent.  The Soviet judges pressed for the death penalty for all but each case was considered and not all sentenced to death.  It was logistically astonishing with simultaneous translation for the first time and provision for the press.  The whole trial lasted for less than a year.  It puts the recent crimes against humanities trials in the Hague to shame.

I had mixed emotions about visiting Bayreuth.  Friends had obtained tickets for the Opera and kindly asked me to join them for one.  So many more knowledgeable people have asked the question how can you separate Wagner, his music, and the music's symbolism.  Can you appreciate one without the others?  I think the answer is no.  

The music is extraordinary and having heard Tannhauser at Bayreuth and Paris less than 12 months apart I remain struck by its power, beauty and resonance.  Yet at Bayreuth there were plaques to those that suffered under the Nazi regime.  You cannot escape from the knowledge that Cosima was anti-semitic in her choice of performers while Winnifred was a member of the Nazi party and according to Bernard Levin threatened her own daughter with execution.  By all means appreciate the power of the music but do not underestimate the impact it has had on the world.

In contrast, Augsburg was philanthropy, Reformation and free speech.  Leopold Moazart a PR guru for his children?  A lightness to Wagner's dark side?

Back to the blankets the first is complete and has visited Lords, Wimbledon and the London Olympics.  There are squares knitted on the South West Coastal path and countless NetWork South East trains.  I am rather proud of it.

 

The 2nd has wrapped its way round my heart as it has now witnessed democracy at work as I travelled round the States.  It's possible to knit on a long distance flight provided it's with wooden needles.  Alternatively take a blunt tipped pair of scissors and tidy up all those loose ends - probably causing a lot of annoyance for aircraft cleaners!  Tine well spent.

One more square to go.  The twins may get the blanket before their first birthday but I will miss it!

Knitted in the USA & Presidential elections

This Autumn I had a ball.  I spent 2.5 weeks travelling from Boston - Chicago, down to St Louis and out of DC.  On planning the trip decided I would be one of the few travellers to New York State not to visit New York City. New York, New York two very different places!

Trip wasn't quite what I planned as I got waylaid by Hurricane Sandy and instead of travelling by train to DC went further into the midwest.

The Old Capitol, Springfield Illinois

It was one of those trips in a lifetime that I, a Londoner, learnt a little bit more about the complexity of the USA.  The election campaign was fascinating.  So many different points of view, so many elections, so many commutations but do you need so many adverts?  The visit to Springfield, IL was unplanned but in many ways a highlight.  I didn't really touch upon Lincoln in my history degree course so the Lincoln Presidential museum was a revelation.  I had known about the sacrifices and casualties of the Civil War (a visit to Richmond, VA taught me that) but the museum brought these stories to life.  It also shows Lincoln as a person, a battler, a giant, a man who suffered.  He lost his son to typhoid while at the White House and his grief was enormous.  

While in Springfield I was still reeling from some of the comments from would be representatives regarding abortion and that there was no such thing as a dangerous pregnancy.  It was there that I had the most extraordinary conversation with the bus driver.  He had no concept of the theory of evolution and knew that everything was created by God or why would all be different?  What was even sadder was that after only 45 years of Civil Rights and 147 years after the abolition of slavery and the death of Lincoln he saw no point in voting.  Is this what American Democracy has come to? Instead of disenfranchisement there is disenchantment?

The first reading of the American Declaration of Independence

Two weeks ago, I finished my petrol blue kid classic sweater /  jumper and I have been wearing it ever since.  I knitted most of the front and back while on that trip and whenever I wear it I smile.  I also worked on a well travelled blanket!  Knitting it while an earthquake hit Boston and during the 2nd Presidential debate.

Knitting rather than walking?

By now I had intended to add a blog about walking but somehow or other I haven't got out there.  I could blame the weather, Christmas but the reality is that it;s been my procrastination.

The thing is that I work a lot of late nights and then it becomes a struggle to get up early enough in the Winter to get a decent walk in.  It's also easy when you know you can get a train to the start and another from the finish but when you have to factor in buses suddenly it becomes a strain.  The daft thing is that I have planned the next stage of the North Downs Way several times but still haven't done it.  I suppose that is another disadvantage of walking on your own.  The only person you let down is you!

How's the knitting?  Well one more sleeve left of my US sweater.  It's turned into a tunic.  Knitters often regard the sewing up as boring or difficult.  My Mother put it differently.  She said it was the exciting bit because now you get to see what it looks like and to get the pleasure of wearing it.  She's right.

I haven't had many conversations on buses recently about my knitting.  Reading a kindle hasn't helped!  But people smile.