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.