Winter Woolly Katoomba

The Blue Hour Cafe - Katoomba

This morning I drove up the mountain to Katoomba, the principal township and tourist mecca of this City-Within-a-National-Park. I thought I might get to take a couple of photos of the view from the top of the main street, but in true mountains form, it was one of those shrouded in mist kind of mornings. So instead of a Blue Mountains vista you are getting a view of my feet on the tiled doorstep of my favourite little breakky spot in this town that I love. I should have remembered that the top of the mountain has a special weather pattern all of its own. While I woke to a grey but temperate morning down my end of the range, at the other end of the hill it was somewhat chilly misty moisty and spitting with rain.

  

With bacon with egg and a sizable coffee under my belt, I tottered up the hill that is Katoomba Street with little happy snap camera still in my hand. It was just after 9am, and many of the shops up and down the strip were still sleepy-head closed. But the florist, as is the case with most florists, must have been up earlier than most to have these delightful fresh blooms stacked in the wagon by their door.

And this is a pic of one of the council garbage bins that are dotted along the pavements. Right at the top of the street is the historic Carrington Hotel, queen of the roaring 20s, now quite faithfully restored and bought back to life. The influence of this grand old lady is beautifully reflected in this rendition of the native Waratah, once abundant in the surrounding bushland. Very pleasant picture of a garbage bin, don't you think?

But my mission this morning was to deliver a goodly bag of unwanted yarn to a band of community yarnbombers; always greedy for woollen string with which to beautify the urban landscape. With my secret drop off under my belt, I loitered around for a bit until the Katoomba Knitting & Needlecraft store opened it's doors at 10.00am (See, it is a sleepy town).

Knitters candy

So joyous and bright

So dependable

And this is what I was waiting for. Navy blue sock yarn. While it *might* appear to be a fairly pedestrian choice, I have it in mind to knit school socks for my man-child. I rail against commercial cotton socks that grow holes in the toes and make feet sweaty and cold. I bought four balls. There's quite a whack of yarn in these, and considering my man-child likes to wear those ankle sport socks I reckon I'll get at least eight pairs out of this lot. But it's going to be a handbag job; one of those projects that sits in my bag for passenger trips in the car and waiting around in waiting rooms. But I'm glad I managed to bag the yarn at 20% off the usual price.

And while I was there, I picked up several balls of lovely Heirloon 5-ply in a softly-softly grey. Will be perfect for this classic raglan baby cardigan methinks. Maybe, if I am lucky, I might be able to get this on the needles this evening.

And now for the last thing, which maybe should have been the first thing, a little ta-da! Amongst the woolly jumble inherited from CC's mum back in January were a few balls of vintage Cleckheaton 8-ply. I can't decide whether it's caramel or brown rice, but I think caramel sounds better. I couldn't really date the label, but I'm guessing maybe from the 1970s? Anyway, I finished these off last night, with a crochet trim in mocha to tart them up a bit. So now that I think on it, perhaps the overall effect is cappuccino. Isn't it wonderful that yarn doesn't go off or expire? And in these days of everything-old-is-new-again I am pleased with my waste not want not baby booties. With a little more cloudy rainy weather on the cards for the weekend I am happily anticipating lots more of the clickety-clack (with pots of tea).

Happy stitching,

Evie xxx

An old Nana's Knitting

At a time when there's really not much stitchety stuff happening around here it was a strike of serendipity to be gifted the remnants of a friend's 92 year old mother's wool and yarn stash.

This is one bag of two, that my darlingest second daughter and I spent the afternoon disemboweling and sorting into colours and weights and ranges and usable bits and not so usable bits. I have stacked much of it into a large cane trunk, and I think it may well become the basis for the execution of my beautiful yarn garden.

There was much that in those bags that was the stuff of the ladies' knitting circle, the CWA annual craft stall, the everyday, the pedestrian. Bags and bags of "Craftlon", bits of it knitted into the startings of coat hanger covers and much of it just a tangle of colour.

But there was treasure to be found in these shopping sacks. There was the neat and ordered handiwork of a skilled needlewoman. There were precious things within this jumble of thread and yarn. Preparation done, pieces knitted in readiness for completion. Knitted lace edgings for towels in softest duck-egg blue and white

Samples of pearle cotton crochet, probably destined as covers for small packets of tissues, or for cakes of soft-smelling soap

There was also a sweet little tea cosy, prettiest green and embroidered with yellow flowers. It happened to fit our little teapot and will make such a welcome covering to warm the morning brew.

Oh, and just look at these beautiful balls of vintage pink. It is called "Cocktail", shot with silver thread, original label intact. 5-ply, a "sport'weight" I think they call it in America. Sweet little 20gram balls. So very pretty. I am thinking this would make the most beautiful baby socks and a pixie hat for a newborn grand-person due in the wintertime (but only if bump turns out to be of the girly kind)

.Oh, and look at this amazing piece of work. We really weren't sure just what it was destined to become, but it is lovely and dimensional, in my favourite red and limey-limey green on a black base.

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And there was a random pile of granny squares, not all completely coordinated, but the startings of a warming knee rug for some lucky soul.

But the best bit of all was the joy of trawling the button bag. I ran my fingers through it at first, just feeling the shapes and then looking at each handful as I drew it out of the bag. Then I emptied it all out and sorted through this wonderfully diverse cache.

A darning mushroom, a thimble, various tools that are not yet familiar to me, some very very old buttons, still attached to their cardings, buttons from the 1920s, the 30s and the 40s were easily identifiable.

I'm not an expert, but the large green buttons with metal inserts look as though they have come straight from a 1920s woollen coat, there are bakelite buttons and buckles, in those 1930s reds and greens, fabric covered buttons from the 1950s, suspender belt fittings and all sorts of odds and sods.

 But goodness, look at this lot!! The tape measure was folded as though it had never been unravelled - made in England it says. Two tiny spools of french blue thread, probably part of an old chatelaine. a little bone crochet hook, and a bone marking tool, and when I laid it in the palm of my hand I could almost feel the hands of generations past holding it in just the same way. There is a needle guage, marked "The Archer Bell Guage" made by H Walker, London, probably circa 1920-1930.

And then there are knitting needles, bakelite again, some genuine tortoise shell, some plastic and others metal. There are long double pointed metal needles, crochet hooks, circular needles. Probably everything a serious knitter would ever need.

But crazy as it might seem, my favourite find of the afternoon were two skeins of 4-ply navy yarn. I have been searching for just such a thing for quite some time as I have a desire to knit school socks for my all of a sudden man-son. Even he will admit that there is nothing more comfortable than hand-knitted socks.

But last word for the evening comes from my son who is ready for chapter two of The Life of Pi. I love to read aloud and for some unknown reason he is still happy to listen to my voice. There is more depth still to Nana's Knitting bags, but I have given you the best of the best. It was a wonderful way to spend an evening and I feel blessed by the generosity of a friend and the creativity of her mother.

With love as always

Evie xxx

Merry Yarn Bombed Christmas

Can you believe I was up at 6am this morning (NOT a morning girl) . I quickly ruffled a brush through my hair, cleaned my teeth, grabbed the yarn bag and my car keys and was on site by 6.15am . Thankfully not too many people around so early on a Sunday morning, just the lady arranging loaves of bread at the bakery across the road and a few random people jogging or walking dogs . So I hung my bag on the wire fence and pulled out the lumpy red Christmas stocking and a large wool needle . I had balls of plain red, green and white yarn on hand and a little pair of scissors for the cutting and snipping of threads. Starting at the top I began stitching my stocking in place, no need to be fussy, just enough to keep it secure .  Then positioning the "H" and then the "O", stitching them on with white yarn and tying them off at the back . I really love these  gorgeous little holly leaves, they shout out "Christmas" straight away . (I used the recipe from Lucy at Attic 24 - http://attic24.typepad.com/weblog/holly-leaves.html - Thank you Lucy) .

The knitted bunting was finished off at midnight last night . As planned as this bombing has been, I always have the most fun when there is some last-minuteness and a dead-line to be met . And now, it looks and feels like Christmas, that stocking hung before a wire mantlepiece, just waiting to be filled . The anticipation and celebration of the festive season is upon us at last .

 While I was in the town I checked out the parking pole that I bombed last August . It's looking a bit limp and faded now, and somewhat the worse for wear . Someone has unpicked the I-cord and tied it around to keep it secured to it's home. How wonderful that it has been loved and cared for by another . There are wispy little webs amongst the poppy flowers where spiders have taken up residence - the opportunism of the natural world at work . Perhaps I will take it down after Christmas and give it some much-needed maintenance. But I am secretly pleased that it is still there, clinging on to it's pole . It kind of looks how I feel; a bit faded, a bit worn and tired, but still clinging on through the ups and downs of everyday life . And seeing it again gives me courage, reminds me that it this urge to create that gives me breath and strength and somehow sets me free . Clickety Clack .
Evie xxx

Random acts of Christmas

I have done this stuff before, and now I find I'm at it again. But it's something special for Christmas. It's been muddling around in my head for weeks; will I do it this way, or will I do it that. And then I rummaged through my stash of wool, pulling out balls of yarn that might just suit my purpose.

In my corner chair at night, in the quiet by lamplight, the workings began. I started by knitting with the woolly-soft red yarn, the one that is thicker in some parts and thinner in others, some of it almost the texture of roving. It knits up quickly and my needles go clickety-clack as I churn out row upon row of wobbly-looking fabric.

But it looks like a strange unshapely thing, and so I start to crochet all around the edges in a chunky yarn, cheap and cheerful and just right for giving this big amorphous thing a little definition.

Phase two of my dreamed up workings; a Christmas message, short and sweet ... well, truncated really. Each piece is knitted in the chunky white yarn, the one I bought at K-Mart. But it needs some colour and so a crochet edging is added in green, yummy limey-green. And now it all looks like some sort of sweet and delicate icing confection. Now leaves, one. two, three, and berries red to finish it off. It's a simple thing, though I have thought about it often enough that in the finishing it feels like a masterpiece. 

Today I have washed and blocked everything and made it presentable. I have chosen early Sunday morning to do the deed. I will lash it to a bleak chain wire fence in a shopping village not too distant from home. My hope is that in a world of hurry, rush and bustle, it will be a happy thing, a smile-maker, a little bit of out of the basket homespun Christmas cheer. And I wonder what other random acts of Christmas might be happening beyond the borders of my realm ...

Evie :)