Bootee Binge

Knitting
You're absolutely right, jeanfromcornwall, it's knicker pink, a colour which haunted our youth, plainly. As far as I can see however, later generations aren't scarred in the same way so I took a deep breath and handed the blanket over and it appeared to be very welcome. I also handed over a rabbit, one of the Jellycat soft toys, which I find irresistible, and it appears to be very popular.

The baby is a beautiful little girl and the first time she met me she slept happily in my arms, so she's obviously perceptive and intelligent too. Then I got sidetracked into bootees. I like Elizabeth Zimmermann's pattern in The Opinionated Knitter and I couldn't resist casting on a whisper of Kidsilk Haze in Cream.

And then another one.

Impossibly cute. I followed these up with another pair in madelinetosh Merino Light which I think is called something Rose.

I must do another pair soon.

I'm sorry to have taken so long to post, Amy - I got the idea into my head that I really must finish Rubble before I could do another post here, but I've decided that doesn't matter. The second half has taken much longer than the first; I'm not sure why because I like the pattern and I want to have it finished but somehow it keeps sitting there and not growing. But now it's nearly done.

This is a very bad photograph but it's late at night: you'll have to forgive me. It's nearly done, just one more cuff to do and the neck. I'm not going to do the ribbed neck: I'll just pick up the stitches, knit a round, and cast off. It looks huge but every time I try it on it looks about right, which is worrying in that it means that I'm huge but reassuring in that it means I've made it the right size.

I've been called away for some emergency cat-sitting or I would have got it finished this weekend. I'll take something smaller and lighter, perhaps the denim Shetland Triangle which you all thought I'd abandoned. I've been thinking for a while that after all those lacy shawls I used to do, I have recently had a long spell of being a project knitter. Franklin has obligingly written an article about this in the latest issue of Twist Collective. Although I've enjoyed a lot of these big plainish projects, my thoughts have secretly been turning to froth again and it might be nice to test my enthusiasm on the Triangle.

And matinee jackets. Yes, Mary Lou, I think it's more a British expression. After some consideration I don't think it's the same usage as a matinee at the theatre, but more a distinction between nightwear and daywear. A baby at the time of my Granny's knitting pattern book would have worn a long flannel nightie which tied at the back, and been put into knitted garments for daytime.

The Past
I have had this photograph for a long time, since my mother died and I acquired her collection of family photographs.

It shows my mother's mother's parents, outside their house. Do click. They were Jessie and Robert Forrester. I like their vegetable garden. Jessie died before my grandmother married so I've never heard anything about her: my mother didn't know her as she did her paternal grandparents. I've wondered from time to time where the house was but I thought I didn't know, until one weekend recently when it occurred to me to google a couple of names that have cropped up in family stories. And what should I find?

It's at Mill of Torr, Stirlingshire. The vegetables have vanished from the garden and it all looks a lot tidier now.

These were taken on the doorstep.

My Granny is the dark-haired girl on the right. (She's not the knitting Granny; that was my father's mother.)

Her brother Jim is the handsome man at the left in the top photograph. I don't know who anyone else is. You can see that country people didn't buy new shoes that would only be worn once for a wedding, but they did polish their boots very well.

This is Granny and Jim many years later. I'm almost certain this was taken against the wall of the outbuilding in the first two pictures.

The walking sticks are Jim's. He had very bad arthritis. You can see he still has his moustache and his lovely smile.

Still Dithering

Knitting
I still haven't decided what to do with the pink shawl, but thank you very much for all your comments. Sea, I know that the mum wants lots of pink things so I'm not worried on that score. It's the shade of pink that concerns me, and I think you're absolutely right about ballet pink, stashdragon.

I should watch some of Call the Midwife, Mary Lou,  just to see the knitting. My Granny had a book of knitting patterns which were her staples, and there were two baby jackets in it which she must have knitted over and over. Matinee jackets they would have been called. Does anyone know why? I can't imagine babies ever went much to matinees. I thought the term would have passed into disuse but I see from Ravelry that it's alive and well. There was another pattern in her book which she knitted over and over, for a short-sleeved lacy top to be worn under a tailor-made tweed suit. A woman's tweed suit was called 'a costume' in my youth. I think the tops might have been knitted from baby yarn as they were in those soft pastels like lemon and pink and wisteria, and a pale green. Pale green and lemon were worn by very small babies because you wouldn't know whether they would need blue or pink until they actually arrived. Changed days.

It does look better in daylight, Fiona, but not better enough, if you follow me. If it were a hotter pink, I'd be a lot happier. But I don't  want to spend money on dye and anyway I think dyeing would knacker the cotton and acrylic blend. But the baby was born on Saturday so there's much more important things to think about than blankets. 3.2 kilos, which I believe is a perfect 7 pounds. Mother and baby are both well.

I have been making progress with the Mediterraneo [BIG] Rubble, so much so that I had to rip it back again because I had overshot the increases for the arms. I've made it a little longer because I was worried about it being too short, and now I think I've made it too long, but I won't really know until the underarm seams are sewn so there's no point in flapping, and anyway it won't be too too long and I think this is a pattern I'll knit more than once. In sewing terms, this is a toile or muslin, a trial garment, except that I should be able to wear this.

The sleeves don't look wide enough here, but that's because it's squeezed onto a needle which isn't as long as the row. The neck comes up a bit higher than I expected and I have a very short neck so I don't think I'll add any ribbing. I think I'll just pick up the stitches, do a couple of rows, and cast off, so that it's a rolled neck edge. But we'll see.

Telly
It's the last episode of Broadchurch tonight (Monday) and I shall be all agog. Actually finding out who did it will be a slight disappointment as it always is (or is that just me?) but it's been absorbing and the photography and music have contributed to that a great deal. I have arrived at an age where usually I just complain about music on television, but on this it has been a major part of the whole. I have been distracted by one major hole in the investigations (why haven't they got the boy's phone records from his provider?) but I'm prepared to overlook that for the purposes of suspending disbelief. Last week we saw a major suspect written out but another who had been drawn to our attention was strangely absent. . .

Hideous

Knitting
I did do another round of stocking stitch before I started the picot bind-off on the Pinkwheel baby shawl, and then I started to warm to this project again.

The combination of garter stitch rows, YOs and picot bind-off. all worked out as well as I could have hoped and I was quite happy with it.

And then I washed and dried it, and I hated it again. I think it looks like a bit of old tat and I'm going to give it to my friend's cat-charity shop. Perhaps someone will give them a couple of pounds for it.

I've made Pinwheel Blankets in All Seasons Cotton before  and been more than happy with them, and I'll use this border again, so it's sort of hard to say why this combination is so horrible. I think it might be down to the shade of pink, which reminds me of the 1950s, and not in a good way. It's the colour of old plastic and artificial silk and bathroom fittings and toothbrushes and plastic cameos and yes, the gums on false teeth. So I'll buy the baby a present out of a shop and we'll all be happier.

I started  a stay-on sock and then couldn't understand what to do next. I'll have another go some day when my brain's sharper.

I forgot to mention that I finished the Denim Kidsilk Trio cowl and I've been wearing it ever since. I just cast off at the end, put a twist in it, and then seamed up the join.

I know, I'm terrible. So far, no-one has stopped me in the street and accused me of not kitchenering it.

I had thought of going to the Edinburgh Yarn Festival but abandoned the idea because I wasn't sure there was any seating and I didn't want to take the risk. How wise I was, for once. A friend who went reported that it was full of lovely stuff, but mobbed, jam-packed and full of queues. I hope I can go next time. She also said it was full of Stripe Studies and Color Affections. After a moment's disappointment that I wasn't totally original, I decided that it's nice to be part of a wave.

The Shape of Knitting
Lynne Barr's wonderful new book The Shape of Knitting arrived while I was packing to go and stay with the cat again.

The subtitle is A Master Class in Increases, Decreases and Other Forms of Shaping, and it has sections with her brilliant instructions and photographs.

And patterns.

A section on Three-Dimensional Knitting.

A whole section on casting on and casting off.

And more patterns.

I was very tempted to pack some yarn so that I can cast on while I'm away, but I've decided instead to take the turquoise Rubble and read, mark, learn and inwardly digest Shape before I do anything rash.

Flickering Screen
There's a good series on television just now called Broadchurch. It stars David Tennant and Olivia Colman and it's another crime drama. I do wish that we ever had any other sort of drama on television  especially when we have such good actors. Both of them are doing seriously good work on the London stage these days, and do we ever get to see it? No. Broadchurch is a cut above though and I find myself thinking about it between epsiodes (I cannot type 'episode' right first time) and wondering what the people are doing. It's in eight episodes, and we still have three to go. I'm going cat-sitting again and will be relying mostly on Netflix and dvds, but fortunately I'll be able to see Broadchurch.


P.S. A passing friend has just said how nice the horrible pink shawl is. She isn't usually given to unnecessary politeness. I shall see what I think when I come home.