We’ve reached that post-summer pre-autumn jitter that can’t decide whether to roast us, freeze us, soak us, drop spheres of ice on our heads, or blow us over – so it swings wildly between all of these things. Permacultural food-grower Liz Zorab refers to this sub-season as The Pause, which describes it admirably, in my arrogant opinion. (Actually we’ve moved past that stage into proper-autumn if I’m honest, but it takes me so long to finish drafting a blog post that I’ll probably be scraping ice off the keyboard by the time you read these words.)
The Pause is an oddball time of year, and if the weather can’t make up its mind then neither can I. Should I bring logs inside for the fire, rip out the fading remnants of summer food crops, and finally finish knitting the Stoic Spouse’s first ever jumper? Or should I make ice cubes using edible flowers ready for evening drinkies on the patio, crochet a cotton vest top, and hunt for butterflies? It’s a tough one.
Going out these days involves donning sunglasses, raincoat, sandals, woolly hat, suncream, windproof trousers, and some properly woolly socks. And even all this will be somehow wrong, because the universe will invent a new weather phenomenon for the morning walk to school: “Oh look, Twinnage, millions of hamsters are falling from the sky. We absolutely do not have any wardrobe options to protect us from this, so you’ll just have to run.” But hey, we’re knitters and hookers so we can improvise something, right?
The book is progressing, though slower than my editor might wish. One of the projects is a bolster cushion, with ornate text worked in stranded knitting. I designed it, I made it, BUT I long ago learned not to ignore that little voice whispering “It’s not good enough.” The other designs completed thus far are – dare I show my arrogance yet again – not too shabby, but this one just isn’t good enough. It’s not terrible, but if you’re ever leafing through the book post-publication, I don’t want to be thinking “Man, I hope s/he doesn’t notice page 37.”
So I’ve bitten the bullet (not literally – I don’t want to break my teeth) and I’m remaking the thing, smaller and cooler and with yarn that’s better-suited to the project (Stylecraft Special, in case you’re curious). Here we get to the tricky bit. For obvious reasons, I can’t show you the actual thing, OR the chart of the actual stranded motifs, OR even play you a recording of the truly creative obscenities I’ve snarled as I grappled with creating this object. But there is one thing I can show you. I’ve got a bold colour palette in mind, so I needed to swatch, to test out all sorts of questions and hypotheses in my mind. So I knitted a micro-bolster with an utterly random swirling pattern in place of the actual text on the actual bolster, so that I could answer questions such as:-
- Should I stick to just cream as a contrast colour? (Yes.)
- Is there sufficient contrast between paler shades and cream, especially for parts of the motif that are only one stitch wide? (Barely. Consider minimising their use.)
- Would I like a second glass of wine? (Most definitely, yes.)
- Do any of the paler colours in the palette play nicely together? (Not really. Avoid if possible.)
- Was Brexit a terrible idea? (Of course it was, and how could it ever have been otherwise?)
And on the basis of all that, I wrote a set of ‘rules’ for designing the stripes, as photographed below. Please don’t be alarmed by the diagram at the top that looks as though I was summoning a demon. That said, if I could summon a demon to resolve my knitting/crochet quandaries, I’d have ZERO hesitation in doing so.
I think I’m getting there. The new version is much much better. I just want to be able to think – as you flick through the completed book – “Ooh, I hope s/he notices page 37”. And I’m sorry that I cannot yet show my progress to you lovely yarny lot.
But yeah, I mentioned distractions that come between me and a completed manuscript. There are many, of course. The problem is that real life keeps running across my field of vision, stark-naked, waving its arms aloft and yelling “WA-HEY, LOOK AT MEEEEEEEEEEE!” We’ve had the Twinnage’s 11th birthday, and the pressure of figuring out where to apply as they face the prospect of moving up from primary to secondary school next September.
The quantity of food that’s still coming in from the garden is a happy distraction, too. The other day, I harvested 14 kg (31 lbs) of dessert grapes, and they are delicious, despite the rather ropey summer we’ve had this year.
I patiently obeyed the instructions not to let any grapes develop past infancy for the first three years after planting the vine, but this year I was finally allowed to Go For It. We’ve given away a lot of grapes to friends… which has had NO NOTICEABLE IMPACT WHATSOEVER on the volume of fruit still occupying the freezer. Celery and pears and apples and patty pan squash and black Spanish radish and carrots and lettuce and fennel are also in abundance right now, and – once a frost has blessed them with sweetness – we’ll begin harvesting the Brussels sprouts and parsnips and celeriac – three of my very favourite vegetables. As I’ve said before, growing all this food has been a coping strategy through cancer, covid, and Brexit, and I’m not about to stop now that the world seems to be getting even crazier.
I’m not about to stop knitting either, so a first draft of the book will, I hope, be ready pretty soon.
In the meantime, may your yarnery prove beautiful and may you never drop a stitch.
Phil x
Love your posts. Beautiful grape harvest!!!!
❤❤❤♥️♥️♥️❤❤❤♥️♥️♥️❤❤❤always! Thank you! Cannot wait to buy your book. ♥️
Thank you both!
Thanks for your inspiring blog. Just reading about your life gives me a lift. I could never design and haven’t the nimble fingers for colourwork, we haven’t the size of your garden but my knitting and crochet and my husband’s raised vegetable bed have got us through lockdown and the complications moving house then his being diagnosed with neuroendocrine tumours in the last 14 months.
Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry to read about your husband’s diagnosis, and I just hope that his prognosis is good? Or garden is very small, I promise, but I cram every inch with food crops. Thank you for your kind words.
Fabulous wee coffee break with “you” through your blog! Thanks for sharing your humour, and your gardening & knitting escapades! Brilliant!!
Nice to know we are not the only ones blessed with crazy weather, gardens that have no idea which season it is and yarny problems that perplex us. And, please God, don’t let our grapes ever produce 31+pounds in one season. The poor eggplant who like July weather is blossoming again. I wanted to pull up all the garden plants and get the beds ready for fall while the weather is much warmer than usual. Not happening. Every day hubby brings in something else. My well intentioned Jedi Robes for the grandsons seem to be taking forever. It would help if I actually worked on them instead of tearing out rows. Although your yarny dilemmas are much loftier than mine, I empathize. The weather I understand, absolutely not. Dressing to go out has involved everything but swimwear, but if it doesn’t stop raining a month’s worth at a time, it could. Rushing children through a hamster storm is new.
Thank you for your insane, illogical and totally entertaining update on your boring life. Now I will get back to those Jedi Robes and hopefully there will not be a need for anymore baby gifts before Christmas. You always bring sunshine and a smile.
Teresa in Michigan
I was tickled bloody PINK to see your post in my Inbox, dear Phil – to the point of .. oh, crimson, I think. 😀
And what a lovely post it is – full of humour (comme d’habitude), information, stranded knitting and .. oh, everything ! Joy !!
So the Twinnage are 11. Jesus. Weren’t they little boys just last week ?
I have a once-Pommy friend who tells me that I haven’t eaten a brussels sprout until I’ve had a truly fresh one, and I reckon she’s on the money. What I wouldn’t give to taste some from your (borrowed ?) garden ..
Those grapes ! – they look ready for treading, to me .. but yes, I do realize one doesn’t get wine from dessert grapes – just delicious sweetness and crunchability.
Would like to see a black Spanish radish, please !
Love you, Phil: you’re a tonic.
Those grapes, oh my! And the knitted test patch is so lovely. I do hope your book will be printable soon. And 11 year old, oi, almost teenagers. Thank goodness they go together, I believe my kids experienced the beginning as the most lonely time ever being introverts. They managed just fine, but I did worry. I call it the “Undecisive Time”, Pause sounds fine too. My Gunnera had frost damage, one night below 0. The thought of covering the big leaves buds for half a year makes me sad. Of you go, make the Stoic Spouse a sweater.
I so very much enjoy your posts, you have made me want to finish my Crazy Old Lady Fairisle vest. I have to cut the steek so I have to put on my big girl pants.
Great to hear from you again, I was beginning to wonder . . .
A neighbour has a grape vine, recently turned up with a large carrier bag of green grapes. “Not that good a summer. Sweet ones are a bit hit or miss.”
So we’ve played Grape Russian Roulette, and are wondering what to do with the other 5Kg.
In other news I’ve picked, or picked up, all the ripe plums I can, and the Preserves cupboard is filling with plum jam. Either Dear Husband will Get a MOVE ON and produce a picker for the ones out of range, or he can jolly well climb the ladder to get them himself! Or, of course, I can wait until they blow down. They’re delicious plums, & a few lbs have been ‘swapped’ with neighbour. Clearly the exchange rate of plums for grapes isn’t equivalent weight!
And it’s getting to be time to start thinking seriously about Crop Rotation and wondering what to plant where next year in the Veg Patch, complicated by 2 sunny areas, one shadier area and one sunny area being due north/south of the other, so shading considerations. Oh, and if some of that falling ice could knock the White butterflies from the air, that would be appreciated. I was groiwing the brassicas for us to eat. Not their Very Hungry caterpillars!
Looking forward to seeing your book.
I’m not familiar with dessert grapes. Do you make wine or jam with them or just eat them? They look delicious! And yes, I thought the twinage were about 7!
Fabulous post. Your mini bolster project looks intriguing, great to see how you tackled the colour choices.
I’m very envious of you homegrown haul. Another idea for you grape harvest – I’ve been drying some of the grapes that we have grown and they delicious, more tart that bought sultanas
Grape Jam coming soon? You’ve a green thumb for sure.
I’m not a knitter beyond some very ropey rows of purl but your book looks so beautiful I’m going to buy it just to admire the projects!
We’re moving into a new house which has a pretty productive veg garden – a mature grapevine in a greenhouse is amazing to me this far north (north of Inverness!). Planning what else we can shoehorn in!!
Super fun post. We had grapes when I was young. We had jam, juice, wine and TONS to give away. Great memories.
I adore your witty humorous posts, they always make me smile. You are such a dear, brave and wonderful person.
What a fabulous load of produce you’re harvesting. Loads of deliciousness to enjoy. Can’t believe the Twinnage are 11? Where has that time gone? Keep on with your book – you can do it!
What a gorgeous post, Phil. Good luck with your creativity, drafting and designing. ‘Happy Birthday’ to the twinnage. 11, gosh, already? I am sure your stoic spouse will love his jumper when you have completed it. We have one of those projects going on in our home and it keeps getting put back for other creativity.. Much <3 to you all. Xx