The way it goes....

Well, this is the good and unexpected.  My little circles of Sirdar colour evolved into a lovely blanket (using the Sunny Spread pattern on Ravelry), which won third place in crochet homewares at the Royal Melbourne Show.  I was delighted. This was my second win this year.

Of course, when all starts spinning out of control, it's good to have woolly comfort to look back on.  At one stage, I was not only finishing a university placement; although I had been preparing beforehand, I had a week full of 10,000 words of assignments.  If you asked me now what some of them were about, I couldn't tell you!

Then came a lovely week's break...but at the end of it, I had a tickle in my throat, and slightly sore eyes.  I couldn't even crochet properly in the evening.

Three doctors' visits later, I've nearly recovered from whatever it was that had me in its grip - something like a pumped up Flu Does Survivor.  Now I am back in the land of crochet hooks and books, a little later than desired, but well in time for Christmas preparations.

And it's a lovely place to be.  Springtime, half a crocheted bag, a cup of tea and a good magazine - may this be the way it continues to go for at least the next few weeks.

Colour time

Has anyone else had one of those cases in which they compose a perfectly lovely blog post, only to have it eaten at the last line?

I know I'm not the only one by any stretch...just like I'm not the only person who loves Sirdar Snuggly Crofter DK, Liberty fabric (for lavender sachets) and granny square blankets, whipped up out of four balls of said Snuggly Crofter (in Tilly) and edged with shells in Calico.  It's not Fair Isle in this permutation, but it's like hundreds and thousands and springtime, all mixed in one.

Now, after my battle with technology and my realisation that all 4 mm hooks have transformed overnight into either 3.5 or 4.5 mm instead, I am going to do what technologically suffering crafts people the world over do.  I am going to get a cup of tea, a biscuit and my latest project, abandon the daily grind for ten minutes, and do just a few (or more) stitches to regain serenity.  It works for me!

Where it begins

Sometimes when the world takes over and you're in that special spiral of family, study, work and whatever it is that fills the days, it's good to stop occasionally and think - and breathe.

I remember when I started to crochet.  I remember it well, and I still have my first crochet hook.  My great aunt Beryl gave it to me.

Beryl passed away about eight years ago now, but every time I look at a stash of wool (oh how I love the photo above - my first ever order from Deramores), and especially every time I swoop around the corner on a granny square, I remember her.

Then I recall what I've made, how it squeezed into all the gaps of busy days, or floated along through holidays, and how making time is breathing time.  Making time is breathing time, colour time, connecting time and happiness.  Even when you have to go ten rounds back because you missed a stitch and now everything is out of step, this is a good time.

This is your time.  This is that chance to think about how much a stripy blanket will be loved, whether this beanie will be slouchy enough for your uncle, what colour square should go next, and what's happening on Ravelry.

And this is when I have always felt at my best.  I'm sitting there aged six with a half made coaster, then thirteen frowning through a blanket challenge, and going through my twenties making granny squares and sewing Irish roses on my tops.  I have never stopped making things, and every project has a story and a place in my life.  Even though I may never see the blanket/bag/scarf again, it is part of my story, too.

As the years pass, I'm drifting through the suburbs finding bookshops, funny little antiques stores, and wool shops that make me smile and check my usually coin filled purse and topsy turvy handbag.  These places become landmarks, signposts to projects and presents, ideas and inspiration, supported by the rest of the world as it reaches out and shares in an online connection so much like all those projects and patterns that surely entrench themselves in our DNA.

And who could ever imagine this absolute brilliance in the middle of all their busy days, or when they're little, just starting out with uncertain acrylic and chain stitches?  Who knows what that odd ball of cashmere is going to become, or whether the pattern translated from another language will translate into something beautiful or useful?

This - this minute, this stitch, this strand - this is where it all begins.  And - I love it!

Never too early

Yes, it is only July.  But it is the end of July near August, and that means it's time to start getting into Christmas.  Of course, I make no excuse for absolutely loving these little stockings (apart from the time I made around 30 in three days, which was ridiculous and should not be mentioned in polite company), whether they emerge from the 4 mm hook in rainbow colours, solid blocks, or simple stripes.

Why do I love them so much?  Well, they're cute.  And they're a 'wearable', with personality and shape, rather than being flat.

I've made them according to colour preferences, used up scraps of yarn (and have even developed a 'range' in kitchen cotton that is surprisingly quick to make), and employed my mother on trimming ends.  My sister has had me (and it looks like it will happen again this year) making them as part of a gift for her workplace, and I've used them myself as mini presents with a candy cane or lollies inside, as well as hanging them on a cord as bunting decoration.  In effect, they've become part of my annual Christmas story.

It's no secret among those who know me that - no matter what - I love Christmas.  So, these little stockings represent a sense of occasion, and hanging as they do in various spots throughout the year, help to extend an enjoyable shared time and create their own stories.

The original 'recipe', created by Le monde de Sucrette (and which can be found on her website) provided a great starting point, which I have adapted slightly since.  I can close the toe by weaving the starting yarn in and out.  I slip stitch the heel closed, rather than sewing it, in a definite time saver.  And, by typically doing single stripes, I don't need a stitch marker.  (I do, on that front, ensure that I start in a different place each round, so as to avoid a diagonal 'step' stripe from the stitch texture).

Some time ago, I also tried making a bigger version of this stocking, employing my dubious maths skills to perfection.  It worked well, but it wasn't quite the same.  No - these stockings are meant to be little gestures and symbols of a special time, and in that way, they work perfectly.  And, in recognition of that, I've already made two from scrap yarn this year, destined for Christmas 2014!

Material world

It's been a world of busy-ness, wool and cotton swirling, essays being (kind of) ignored, cold weather infiltrating, and the days just marching on relentlessly.

It's been a world of perching beside the heater, admiring other worlds of summer, and checking that the cherry tree has small leaf bumps on it.  Spring seems a world away.

My cut back, chopped away, depleted wardrobe is not made for winter.  I have scarves aplenty, but the jumper/coat side of the bargain is largely unfulfilled.  Somehow, I seem to have adopted a number of coats that chop me in half, are stiff and not cosy, and - I shouldn't complain, I know! - I seek the elusive light, knee length, draped number that will provide a bit of winter magic.  It's out there, I'm sure it is.  Otherwise, I'd be quite happy with a long duffle coat.  The problem is that by now - and with complete lack of logic - retailers have started stocking warmer weather gear.  There's nothing like stepping into a shop from hail and icy winds to see short sleeved blouses everywhere.  Give us just a few more weeks.  Wait until the cherry tree's leaves have actually started to emerge.  It will happen.

In the middle of all this tangled angst and myriad cups of tea, there emerges serenity. It is unexpected, and a pleasant surprise.  Being interested in just what can be done with combinations of crafts, I placed some of my favourite photos in mirror image arrangements with Spoonflower.  I had tried out one other photo with them before, and thought it was worth another attempt.  And....I'm delighted.  I'm still deciding what to do with the results - a silky swathe of orchids, light voile maple leaves, and a poplin square of roses - but there will be more.  This is a bright triumph in wintry days.

Unfortunately - or perhaps luckily! - I don't quite have enough of any of them to make myself a coat....

Round and round

There is nothing like memorising a crochet pattern when you've embarked on a huge project, you're hitting the deadline limit and you're thinking - why didn't I just do granny squares?!  (naturally, everyone knows how to do granny squares as a matter of course....)

There is also nothing - a late breaking discovery, this - like working with variegated yarn, and just sailing along, watching the colour changes, rejoicing at the lack of ends.

That's how it is for me right now.  While I also have a much deserted granny square project 'on the go', while I love - truly rejoice in - picking my own colours, and while I even enjoy the process of trimming ends to signal the completion of a project, this 'Sunny Spread' variation of mine needs to be done NOW.

It is for a huge competition - possibly the biggest I've ever entered - and I've gone for the combination of colour, intricacy and availability.  As anyone who pops into Ravelry will know, the Sunny Spread in all its variations is a spectacular item, but a steady challenge rather than overwhelming for anyone with a bit of crochet experience.  I have a substantial stash of Sirdar Crofter DK ready and waiting, coupled with some lovely Bendigo Woollen Mills Luxury 8 ply (when my budget allows, I'm restocking on this one) to frame each circle.

Am I nervous about getting it done in time and looking good?  Of course.  Such is the nature of these competitions that everyone's work will definitely look better than mine, and I'll have mini nightmares about a huge hole developing in a central seam.  But such are the risks we take in the cause of getting our work out there.  So, I'll keep going round and round and round...and....next year I think I'll do a granny square blanket!

In full bloom

Even though it's winter here, there's a kind of uncanny beauty in the bare branches and dropping leaves.

The fire of autumn has all but gone, with just the odd cluster of maple leaves and one sad miniature cherry leaf clinging on, something like the last embers of a blaze.

The crepe myrtle that fascinates me so much with its bright green leaves in summer and its russet-gold combination in autumn, is now a slightly forlorn collation of twigs.  Just beyond it, the star magnolia is doing just that, showing its stuff in distinctive white petals and pink blush furry buds.

Would it be such a feature in spring?  Possibly not.  I wonder if it knows that just as it is fading, the world is stirring, the earth is warming, and sweet peas, cherry blossom and a larger installment of silver princess gum blossom are just waiting to burst forth as the banksia rose froths onto the front fence.

I feel the same about the daphne as I do about the magnolia.  It has such a distinctively icy winter scent that whenever I think about it taking its place in the spring months, I have to discard the thought.  It is a product of colder days, and there it works beautifully.

So this little patch of ours ticks away, and the main colours that keep flourishing arrive with the camellias - cherry blossom pink, skirted candy and white streaks, puffball mauve, and the occasional cupped cream and gold.  The bounty of the camellias means this jug can be filled every couple of days, just as the top heavy blooms collapse with a soft thud, and petals float gently to the carpet.

Before they give way, however, the jug of camellia catches the sunlight, holds the standard high for winter blooms, and even - just faintly - connects me to the far off spring.

Crochet Love

One thing that is really special is seeing your finished crochet projects 'in action'.

This little cardigan was completed in February, and can be seen here on my lovely baby niece...about a week ago.

She is just beautiful, and I'm delighted to have such a sweet bundle wearing something I made!

This, of course, is just the beginning.  There are more cardigans, blankets, ponchos and toys on the way - and that is but the start.  Sadly, we've found out that she doesn't like hats or mittens, but I have plans for many future projects.

Welcome to the world of crochet, Alisha!

Your very grateful aunt.

Often the best

The simple things, indeed, usually are the best.

There is a reason why many hundreds of pages on Ravelry are related to granny squares or variants thereof.

Not only can granny squares be as elaborate, uncomplicated, cosy or sophisticated as you like - they are economical, quirky, pretty, elegant, simple and all tell a story of both the maker and the intended recipient.

My most recent version - made from the ever popular Stylecraft Special DK - is for a little girl called Violet.  Needless to say, there are plenty of mauves, purples and lavenders in there, edged in the reliable Parchment shade.  I haven't elaborated on design; it's my standard 3-2-3, 3-1-3, and made in pansy and viola shades as well as adopting the violet tones.

I've made many granny square blankets (and other granny square items, from scarves to bags and cardigans) over the years, from a big brown boucle number adopted by my mother, to a Summer Garden coastal blanket in pure wool.  I've adopted the Summer Garden pattern from Attic24, as well as granny stripes, and I've loved every project along the way.

My first granny square blanket - from 1985 - was made for my grandfather, and it stands out as a crafting highlight.  Not knowing then what I do now, it rather uniquely still has all the yarn ends in place, with a jersey fabric backing attached that hides them more than adequately.  It was made from scraps, and my favourite colours and combinations - red and grey, raspberry pink, aqua and orange, to name a few - were present even then.  It took forever to make those 120 squares with the original 6.00 mm hook granted to me by my great aunt, and putting the shell edging on after my mother sewed the squares together (randomly, with a peach coloured wool that was always around, no matter how much of it we used!) was a crafting triumph.

And...it was loved.  I think that is what I appreciate most about granny squares and what we make from them.  No matter how many jokes you hear about the 1970s and burnt orange acrylic, a classic like the granny square is made to last and be enjoyed.  It's the identifying highlight of crochet, and the item that so many prospective crocheters name as something they would like to make. Quite simply, the granny square's the best.

Smelling the roses

I've been thinking of taking a watercolour class, and turning my paintings into cards.

Problem is, time and money conspire against me.  I'd love to learn a traditional technique and add it to my repertoire, but this doesn't look likely to happen any time soon.

While thinking about this conundrum, I've found an app (I keep wanting to say 'application'!) called 'waterlogue', and have been using it on my phone.  It turns my photos into watercolours.  Magic!

Problem is, my phone's temperamental, and patches keep getting taken off the images.

Instead, I tried it on my iPad.  It gives me a bigger view of the final results, and saves them without any chopping.  Magic again!

I turned a photo of a rose into a 1950s style watercolour, then printed it for just a few cents and turned it into a card for Mother's Day.

There was no problem in the end....just my mixed up thoughts about technology, saving money and time, being pleased with the results of combining creativity with buttons and screens, and taking the chance to smell the roses - every which way.  Who knows?  I may get to take that class in the future - or I may not.  In the meantime, this is how I'm sharing the loveliness.

Just grannying

It amuses me that I originally took this photo on my big camera, then saved it on my laptop, emailed it to myself, saved it on my phone, then played with it on an app (Afterlight) for the surround and a dusty filter, THEN saved it on my phone again, put it on Instagram, emailed the final result to myself, saved the photo on my laptop, then uploaded it here for use on the blog....all for five minutes of sunshine and photo out on the back lawn. 

Anyway...moving right along....this is the start of a pansy/violet themed granny square blanket.  I've done a few more squares since, but have put them aside to finish up a medal ribbon themed scarf (for my father), and to get starts/finishes on another couple of blankets.  It's a never ending story, and a great way of using up the stash.  I'm finding that, as this lean year progresses, I'm working my way through some lovely fibre, and have only purchased minimal amounts in order to fill colour gaps where needed.

The plan for the squares above?  Once I've finished eighty in this fashion, I'm planning to edge each in a neutral colour, then join.  It'll be an eight by ten mix, with a broad neutral border.  I can get about five of these middles done in a night, and it's proving to be very relaxing...unlike the photo saving and communicating process!

Yarnbombing

Well, this is only a temporary form of the great art of 'yarnbombing' (I've decided that it's a compound noun, no matter what anyone says!), but having had to dig this image out in the last week, I can't help but smile.

It's actually my most recent granny stripe blanket in progress (late last year), and it's hanging over the edge of a very elevated terrace at the Melbourne Cricket Ground.  It's a stunning day looking into the centre of Melbourne, and even though this is simply an iPhone photo, I think the nature of the city and the blanket alike are very well captured.

When I think of travelling, it's funny how many times I actually connect yarn to the concept.  I'd love to go to Purl Soho in New York, Loop in London, and possibly the HQ of Deramores, Shilasdair on Skye, and a few others in between.  What I'd do in an ideal world is buy some of their beautiful product, step outside, liberate a few loops and leave a signature little granny square or similar, then take a photo, just as a connecting marker of having been there.

Well, that is the dream, anyway.  I'm not sure if yarnbombing my way around the world is a feasible concept, but I'd certainly like to put it on the bucket list!

Heaps

I had to retrieve yarn.

It's said in exercise circles that, for a session to be effective, you should at least end up a bit sweaty and short of breath.  In that case, I've found the perfect workout.

I had to retrieve yarn of various types in order to get a diverse group to try out a chain stitch.  So I toted a variety, including chunky, acrylic, cotton, laceweight, fun fur (for hedgehogs more than novice crocheters), metallics, and a ball of Noro for show and tell.

The response from the new learners was that (apart from the fact that some of them obviously thought I was crazy...hey, it's a general 'train the trainer' class, not necessarily naturally disposed towards crochet love!) this was a LOT OF YARN.

Huh.  No, it's not.  Iceberg, tip.  Not even tip.  This is an iceblock tenderly removed from a massive glacier. I did a spot count while I was gathering the bundle above, and although I haven't been extravagant in purchases - particularly in the last five months - I have at least twenty tote bags full, along with four or five huge plastic bags that are probably double the capacity of each tote bag, one huge 125 litre tub, one 80 litre tub, two drawers in a deep chest of drawers, one big round tub, one basket, and a couple of other bags.

Too much?  Probably.  But it's a great resource and one that mostly brings me much enjoyment except for those occasions when it decides to collapse and get all muddled up in a tangle around my feet.  It represents the enjoyment of making projects, picking out colours and - in my present parlous state - 'shopping the stash'.  I actually look forward to the day - hopefully not too far distant - when I have made as much as I can from my present collection and can then assess my needs, rather than bored biscuit eating time orders, in order to build an informed yarn bank.

So yes, right now it's HEAPS of yarn - but it's also heaps of fun, heaps of resources (when did I get that Cleckheaton Merino Silk in a lovely eggplant shade???  Anyone????) and heaps of crochet stories just waiting to be told.

Ripple Done!

One thing I have learned, although it's a lesson that I try to deny - a week of intensive study with no escape, lasting for around ten hours a day including lots of driving, does not make for easy crochet time...or indeed for anything but taking notes and travelling.  Thoughts of sneaking projects in under the radar can be rejected when the lecture theatre is full of about 140 other people, and especially when the project in progress is a blanket at border stage (and I made that up myself, too.  I admire those who flatten the ends to create a full rectangle, but that's not for me.  I think the ripple effect throughout is the charm).

Weariness at the end of the day also does not make for effective border completion time.  However, it's beautiful and bright now, and only awaiting the birth of my niece in about seven weeks' time.  I also have a full range of the colours still remaining, having convinced myself that two balls of each colour would be needed.  Funnily enough, just one was required for all shades except the Ivory Pearl.  I'm quite tempted to replicate the whole project again.  Working with the Stylecraft WonderSoft Pearl was just lovely, and the end result is a substantial but not too warm blanket.

I hope the little one likes the final result - and that her mother (my sister) does too!

A blank canvas

There it is...a slightly crumpled, forgotten for a while, nearly finished, using the materials at hand.....twine bag.

It's one of 'those' projects - a combination of giving it a try, making it up, handy for hot weather, a spare moment, while chatting to visitors - you know the sort.

It can nearly be done without looking, except for the fact that the twine's hard on the hands and splits every third stitch - but that doesn't matter because it's cheap, natural, great texture and soft but structured overall.

It's round and round and how wide should I make the handles?  It's handbag size but could be a purse, does it need a fastening?  it definitely doesn't need a lining, how about a pocket?

It's almost an amigurumi bag in the making, nicely neutral like all those Ikea baskets and hanging pods that get Pinned, and then there's the questions of should I try a cross stitch on the perfectly suitable base?  maybe a rose or an initial or just a running stitch of randomness....or maybe it could spring with round flowers - crocheted and sewn - so that it's the background, not the feature, a solid garden bed to rainbow blooms.....

And it gets mulled over and nearly put away, but I know I want to make some more of these, because, like every just because project, it's the perfect food for thought, the inspiration, and even though slightly crumpled and tossed into the WIP collection of uncertain fate, it tempts me with every slightly clipped stitch - a blank canvas made of kitchen twine.

And finished!

Start...and finished!

There is no feeling of satisfaction greater than that of completing a project, and with a new baby landing in the family in just over two months' time, it has been urgent (to my way of thinking) to get as much as possible made before her arrival.

I made a little jacket, out of Rowan Pure Wool DK - which, I'll note, was lovely to work with in hot weather.  The pattern was a Cleckheaton number, and with all the seaming involved, reminded me why I love top down, no seam projects.  I don't mind sewing, but this was quite a test of patience and fortitude, and despite blocking, there are still slightly lumpy seams on the sleeves.  Then there was the incident of the third button down.

The third button down took half an hour and lots of blood (literally - I stabbed myself twice with the needle) to attach.  At one stage my younger brother was deployed to hold the jacket in place while I tried to get the button settled.  He gave up and I took a deep breath.  Finally, it worked, and the little jacket was finished.

I love these timber buttons with floral patterns, and have quite a selection now.  While actually attaching them is problematic, the result is worth the effort, and choosing which pattern to use is a fun exercise in itself.

Now it's back to the ripple blanket (part of which can be seen in the header) I'm also creating for my new niece.  I'm slowing down a bit on this one because of the need for new supplies, accompanied by extreme heat.  Working with a pearl acrylic is a bit slippery in such conditions.  It's quite intriguing to read of snow and rain....I find myself thinking wistfully of the need for a partial weather exchange.  We in Australia are dealing with the usual summer challenges - fires, cyclones up north - and simply facing the soaring temperatures each day as 40 beckons regularly is quite a test.  Just a few days of cool breezes would be most welcome.

However, I must admit that summer sunrises are a real highlight.  The one below comes from this morning, caught on my phone at around 6.30 am.

At least this is a nice way to start the day!

To start

It always begins with a yarn.

Cotton or wool?
Granny square or stripe?

Order online or hope to find something locally?

Now, that's a yarn in its own right.  My overwhelming aim is to use up the stash.  Until it's more economically viable - circa 2016 - finding 'something locally' is it.  And 'something locally' means unearthing whatever fibre I need in the cupboards, the bags and the assorted containers that have always seemed to - somehow - fill up without me even knowing it.

The last stash enhancing order (necessary for blanket in progress) went in this morning, after doing many financial permutations to see how the next year and a bit will shape up.  With study and the unknown on the horizon, it's all about being economical.  Fortunately, I crochet fast, I crochet even, and I crochet often.  You want a ripple blanket? Stand still for a minute (or a week).  Medallion bunting?  Done!

I started crocheting back when all acrylic squeaked, and the idea of Ravelry or Deramores was like believing in the Tooth Fairy.  Let's just say it was the late 1970s. I was an eccentric little tacker (nothing changes), and my late great aunt spent quality time teaching me chains, trebles and granny squares.  I have been thanking her for it ever since.  Somewhere out there is a flamboyant shell stitch scarf that I made for my father.  There's also a chunky royal blue baby jacket that I made for my younger brother, and he hasn't let me make anything for him since that scarring moment.  I even made granny square blankets galore up through early high school....and never realised I had to weave the ends in!  Ah, those were the days....

So, the challenges are:
- don't buy, use (exempting extreme cases of specific requests, or vouchers to LYS being given as presents by kind relatives)
- make something for my brother that he will use....Coaster?
- start an Etsy shop if the projects shape up
- enter competitions for tea cosies, scarves and a Roses and Daisies blanket
- make a few more bits and pieces for my future niece (due in April)
- add finished projects to Ravelry more regularly.

I think that's enough to go on with, and I look forward to sharing my successes - and attempts - with you along the way.

Detail of a larger project from 2013 - Summer Garden Granny Square blanket