Down South.

I know, I know, I have taken an extended break (again!), but like most people at the beginning of a new year, I've got good intentions for keeping this ol' blog bang up-to-date from now on. I do have a few excuses for being out of commission for a while, the most recent and most interesting being a month-long trip to the southern hemisphere (yes, you should be jealous).

We set off for Melbourne via Singapore and made our way up to Port Douglas and through Country Victoria during our trip. It was blissful summer, but don't let that fool you into thinking I neglected all things knit-related while we were there. This was one of our first stops:



Needless to say, I bought some yarn. Okay, I bought loads. In case you haven't heard of it, Bendigo Woollen Mills is one of Australia's biggest hand knitting yarn producers. At the mill, there is a great shop where you can buy their current yarns off the shelf, but what I would recommend is delving into their back room, where discontinued yarns and colours hide out. It's all great quality stuff for a bargain.

Lucky for my husband, the mill also makes a good stop on a road trip of the Victorian countryside. Bendigo itself is a former gold mining town with a whiff of the wild west about it and we used it as a stop on our drive up to Echuca, where paddle steamer boats chug up and down the Murray, Australia's longest river. (The fact that my husband's name happens to also be Murray made for many a hilarious joke on this trip, let me tell you.) We took a lovely little ride down the river on one of these babies:



From Echuca we moseyed over to Wangaratta (Australian town names just get better and better), where we checked out Australian Country Spinners, with a mill shop similar to Bendigo's, but with a less exciting range. Driving back down to Melbourne, I kept my eyes peeled for famous Australian wildlife (I am but an excited school kid at heart) but the only kangaroos I saw were sadly dead at the side of the road. Not cool. Eventually I decided it best to keep my eyes on the socks I was knitting.

We did lots of other fun, non-knitting things too, of course. Like head up to Port Douglas in Queensland, where the rainforest meets the Great Barrier Reef. As you can imagine, it was amazing. We snorkeled with the sea turtles, we swam in the rainforest, we ate A LOT of amazing food.



Back down in Victoria, we wandered about wine country and spa towns and came across this lovely lavender farm:



And this adorably retro pitstop. (And yes, that is a mural of the infamous Ned Kelly with a sausage roll.)






On the way to and from Oz, we stopped in Singapore and it was much more exciting that I had imagined: cheap delicious food, interesting neighbourhoods, amazing architecture, and one hell of a zoo.



So now we're back in London, putting our knitwear to good use, but for once it really feels like I've been on vacation. Until next time I can reminisce, right? My new favourite thing to keep me feeling the vibe is the truly fabulous Frankie Magazine, which I highly recommend you check out. That and, well, Vegemite. No, really!

Spring Kouyou.

The sun has been shining here in London, which means light, finally! Here's an in-progress shot of the shawl I have been working on for the shop.



I knitted a few rows in the park after work before getting a pizza nearby on a Friday evening. Bliss!

The project is the Kouyou Shawl* in the lovely-dovely Quince & Co Chickadee in Petal.

*Apparently Kouyou means Autumn in Japanese, but with a yarn called Chickadee in a colour called Petal, it must be Spring!

Potential.

I recently received a truly lovely and unexpected gift. It got me thinking about skeins of yet-to-be-used yarn.

There it is, all bound up, the colours beautifully arranged - twisted, wound, tucked. When I look at a skein of yarn, I get excited - what could I do with it? A new skein means researching patterns on Ravelry, thinking if I could make something up myself, wondering if it should be gloves, a cardigan, a brooch. A skein has so much potential.

That reminds me of a quote that I love, but that's a little bit scary too:

If I were to wish for anything, I should not wish for wealth and power, but for the passionate sense of potential - for the eye which, ever young and ardent, sees the possible. Pleasure disappoints; possibility never.

-Soren Kierkegaard

It's true, I often enjoy the looking forward, or the getting excited about something, more than the end result. Do you enjoy wearing your knitted garments as much as you enjoy knitting them?

I looked up the word potential in the Oxford English Dictionary:

Potential

A. adj.

1. Possible as opposed to actual; having or showing the capacity to develop into something in the future; latent; prospective.

B. n.

2. Something which is possible, as opposed to actual; capacity for growth, achievement, future development or use; resources able to be used or developed.

and then potent:

Potent

A. adj.¹

^{1. a. Of a person or thing: powerful; having great authority or influence; mighty. Now chiefly in literary usage.}

^{2. Of a drug, alcoholic drink, etc.: causing physical effects; causing rapid intoxication; strong.}

Interesting. I know that gorgeous skeins of yet-to-be-used yarn do tend to have intoxicating effects on knitters - anyone who's been to a fiber show has witnessed that. As for "of a drug, alcoholic drink, etc" - there's a reason why knitter's call their collection of yarn their "stash" after all.

Right now I now have a lot of "potential". And so far Kierkegaard's right - possibility doesn't disappoint.

Really and Truly Literary Knitting.

An amazing thing happened last night - yarn and books came together in a way I couldn't have imagined being any better: a "Knitting Extravaganza" in an antique bookshop.

I heard about this over on the Stitch and Bitch London board on Ravelry - " a special yarn sale in an antiquarian Georgian bookshop opposite the British Museum." Um, yes!

So I made it over there on my way to my London Thanksgiving alternative: Japanese food with my cousin. On my way there,

I was thinking, "Oh this will take maybe 5 minutes or so...", not realising that I was about to step into this:

It was so lovely - hanks of gorgeous yarn, the gold from the Georgian books sparkling on the shelves, the soft bookshop lighting, the lovely people showing off the fibres - it was heaven! I could have bought loads (and believe me, I wanted to) but settled on one skein of Louet Gems Fine/Sport Weight - a yarn that's not readily available in most London yarn shops.

In fact, most of the yarns there weren't readily available in most shops, which is what made it so special. I got the impression that the event was run by the very nice ladies who do The Good Yarn Stall in Spitalfields Market on Sundays, but there was also a woman selling mostly Habu Textiles yarns and kits. And then there was the most amazing piles of chasmere, yak, and goodness knows what else.

I had to be basically dragged away by my very tolerant husband. Books, yarn and a knitting-friendly husband - all good things to be thankful for.

Wales.

Where do I start?? So much happened in the last week while we were in Wales, that I don't think I'll be able to document all the lovely little moments in one post. Will another mosaic do? We took hundreds of photos. Unfortunately Murray forgot his Lomo, but we still got some good ones.

We started off driving west in our new little Fiat 500, which was a lot of fun because we are so used to taking public transport everywhere. Now, while I will be the first to sing the praises and benefits of public transport, it was so lovely to have our own little bubble of space to explore the country in. And it was nice to go somewhere without having to have my passport and visa, or to have to pack all my liquids in small bottles or checked luggage, or squeeze everything into an easily navigable suitcase, or wait in security queues, or ... well you get the idea. And most of the countryside we was so spread out that public transport wasn't really an option.

It only took about 4 hours to get from London to the Brecon Beacons National Park, where we set ourselves up in a little cottage adjoined to an old farmhouse run by the most lovely people that we have perhaps ever met. We explored the waterfalls in the park, enjoyed the most amazing views, and saw every castle and abbey in the surrounding area (no small feat, that).

We also went to some lovely little local pubs - which as a rule, seem to always have a cosy fire. My favourite meal was Welsh laverbread gnocci with leeks and cockles (how much more Welsh can you get?) and the cockles didn't scare me at all - in fact, they were delicious. (More on the British relationship with cockles here.) The best night we had was probably at the most local of all local pubs, which opens only in the evenings and closes, well, as one regular told me, "Whenever we stop drinking." Of course. They were so friendly in there they even asked us to join in their monthly quiz night, and while we didn't win, we like to think that we at least helped our team to get joint second place (there were only 3 teams...).

There was one wool shop stop (well, I found a few stalls in the markets, but this one was sadly the only one I found in the area worth buying from) and picked up some delicious Artesano Alpaca 4 ply which I plan to make into knee high Lakeside socks one day. As far as I could tell, the shops was only called The Cross Stitch Shop, but it was run by a really lovely, friendly lady in Llandeilo. (This friendliness did seem to be a real trend in Wales... maybe it was just that they weren't Londoners?)

After the Beacons (the castles, the cottage, the abbey, the waterfalls, the pubs) we made a snap decision to head down the coast to Tenby, a walled medieval city (well, town, I suppose - I learned on the radio that for a place to qualify as a city, it must have a cathedral...I guess Centreville, VA doesn't qualify then? ;) ). Tenby looked as though it would be lovely - candy coloured houses in a row on the seafront, pristine beaches, yet another ruined castle...but as it turned out, we arrived with the gales. At one point we were stuck in our B&B as the little Fiat couldn't make it through the flooded roads. I suppose it was all very atmospheric, and we didn't have to worry about this seaside town being mobbed with tourists, but it would've been nice if my Star Crossed Slouchy Beret could even stay on my head. But alas, the gale gods were not willing.

We did have a couple of hours while the rain let up to take some pictures and explore the grounds the B&B was set in - which in addition to the newly planted orchards and chickens running about, included a 12th century church with medicinal spring wells and Celtic remains from who-knows-when. I even braved the slippery rocks to have a taste of the water - very iron-y but apparently very good for you - pilgrims used to purposefully stop off here in the middle ages and it is said that a king (though I can't remember which) used to send for the water to be delivered to him specially.

Oh - so much more, but I'll let the pictures do the talking now:

The place where George Eliot wrote her first novel - note the For Sale sign. Buy it for me?

Alpacas(!) hanging out near Talley Abbey. Okay. I'll settle for an alpaca if I can't have George Eliot's house.

The lovely plant life at Aberglasney House and Gardens.

These tree roots made me want to sit down and knit something with a cable needle.

The slouchy beret staying firm at Carreg Cennen Castle.

And finally, a pair of pairs. I would not like to hear about the resemblance between the two. How did my shadow get so fat?!

Wollen und Bier

...I think. I didn't pick up too much German while I was away, mostly because so many of the lovely Bavarian people were clever enough to be able to speak English to me and kind enough to be willing to!

But wool and beer pretty much sum it up. Although I didn't bring back many souvenirs, I did manage to pick up a lovely alpaca in a colour I have been on the hunt for all autumn as well as an excellent magazine, the patterns in which I hope to some day decipher.

I was very pleasantly surprised and pleased to find that our train station ("banhof" - see I learned some German!) had a bookshop/news agent-y type of place that had an entire shelf devoted to knitting magazines - bliss! If it hadn't been for train schedules and my limited budget, I would have definitely come away with more than I did. As it was, I chose this one for these patterns in particular:

I am getting into knitted dresses these days - probably because it's getting cold and I am trying to not use the heater too much just yet, and also because I am lazy and like the idea of only having to think of one think to wear in a day as opposed to a top and trousers... Unfortunately they take up lots of yarn and are therefore expensive. I'll just have to think of them as an "investment"... Right?

The yarn in the first photo is Austermann Alpaca Silk. Yum. It actually says "Made in Peru" on the label, but it's a German company so I'll just let myself believe it's an authentic German souvenir. Better than, say, a Bayern Football Club t-shirt or a framed picture of Kind Ludwig II of Bavaria... speaking of whom, here's his house:

Yes, my friends, that is a giant, fairy tale castle on the top of a large mountain. It took a good long hike and the use of a lot of backside muscles to get up there, but it was worth it. If you haven't heard of this guy, he was a sort of 19th century Bavarian Michael Jackson and this was his Neverland. He was deposed from his role as king on the grounds that he was mentally ill and then found dead with his personal doctor days later under very peculiar circumstances. More on the "mad" king here. The castle is full of legend and fairy tale references and even has a room which was meant to be devoted to the full performances of Wagner's music for his sole enjoyment - but was never used. Just the sort of tragic, mysterious stuff I get sucked in by.

Other than fairy tale kings, knitting and beer (and there was lots of the latter), there was the scenery - probably the most beautiful of which I have ever seen:

As you might be able to tell from the photos, it went from swelteringly hot to freezing cold and snowy in the 10 days I was there. But it was wonderful to experience the place in both ways. More in the Flickr set here.

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Listening to: Emmy the Great

Eating: Aquacotta

"If clothing 'makes the man' what happens to masculinity when women make his clothes?"*

So I am knitting for a couple of men in my life. Although I have to admit that I don't feel as compelled to finish their projects as I do for ones for me. Greedy, I know. It seems I started these ages ago...

For the Australian:

Which will hopefully magically transform into this:

(photo from Men's Knits by Erika Knight / Let's Knit magazine)

And for my oldest brother:

This is the Exchequered Scarf by Alice Bell (rav link).

I am going to visit said brother in Germany on Tuesday for 2 whole weeks with my mom. Very sad about leaving the Australian behind for so long, but I will be bringing along the sweater and the scarf and so will hopefully make some headway on the man-knitting on trains between Munich, Strasbourg, Wurzburg, Innsbruck and Garmisch. Maybe when I get back I will have a finally finished sweater for him.

I have never been particularly enamoured with vacation souvenirs in general (unless it's food or wine, of course) so recently my travel souvenirs have come in skein form. I have already had my brother scope out the LYS situation in Garmisch and there's at least one, but I am keen to know about any other in Bavaria and what to look out for. I have heard good things about the Wollmeise brand on the Ravelry boards and I have to say, it looks lovely.

So, will the guys in my life mind having lady-made clothes to add to their wardrobe at the end of this trip? I think they know me well enough not to answer that in the affirmative... at least not to my face.

*Quoted from The Culture of Knitting by Joanne Turney

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Eating: Jamie Oliver's Bloomin' Brilliant Brownies

Listening to: Mumford & Sons

Oyster Card Cover

It was the yarn that inspired me. I figured, most Londoners don't particularly enjoy their commutes, so why not brighten it up a little. So I whipped up a little cover for my oyster card, which is now looking a million times more brilliant, not to mention a lot easier to find in the Mary Poppin's Narnia that is my handbag. For those of you interested, here's what I did:

Used: less than 1 skein Katia Galaxia yarn (purchased from All the Fun of the Fair near Oxford St)

1 5mm knitting needle
1 yarn needle

I cast on 40 stitches.
I knit 25 rows.
I cast off.

I then threaded the yarn needle with a length of the yarn approximately 3x the length of my oyster card when opened. I then weaved the yarn through the stitches on the borders of all 4 sides of the piece. I then laid the oyster card, opened out on top of the knitted piece. With another shorter length of yarn, I threaded it through the piece, at the spine, drawing the two longer sides together, and tied with a bow. I then took the two ends of the longer threaded yarn length and pulled them tightly, gathering the border stitches to form a nice cozy for the oyster card, tying again with a bow.

Pretty easy huh? I think it's a good way to personalise something that every Londoner's got, and you can embellish or modify to suit yourself pretty easily.