Since it's a dull Monday, shall we have an over-excited book review and a giveaway? Yes? OK, here goes:- Somewhere in Greenland, there are small birds living in more luxury than you do. See this nest? It's lined with pure qiviut - you know, that crazy-expensive luxury fibre from the tummy-fluff of the musk ox. Lucky birds. That said, after such a pampered start in life, the chicks will probably grow up completely unable to cope with the harsh realities of the world. You and I would have to Continue Reading
Heaven Is Purple Qiviut. Trust Me On This.
Somewhere amidst the frosty tundra of northern Canada, a musk ox (yes one of those vast and curmudgeonly beasts) is missing a little of its tummy fluff. Not very much of its tummy-fluff you understand, not enough to leave it with a shivery abdomen, for the musk ox is extremely well-insulated and tends to moult its excess in spring. But just a few grams, sufficient to make... oh I don't know... maybe a cowl for someone in the frosty - er - "tundra" of south Oxfordshire. All I can say is Continue Reading
Look! A Competition!
whispers Would you like to win lots (and lots) of yarn? In all sorts of near-edible colours? Yes? Well I have to declare an interest in publicising the Stylecraft competition below, because look who is one of the judges, along with Lucy from Attic24 and the editor of Let's Knit magazine! How much fun is it going to be to look through everyone's colourful suggestions and work out what would work best in fibrous form? I'm sitting here willing everyone to let their colourful imaginations run riot. Continue Reading
The Only Arctic Musk Ox In Herefordshire
Herefordshire is a pretty, muddy, green English county snuggled up against the edge of Wales, its lush hills gazing at the neighbouring Welsh mountains. My parents live there in peace, tidyness, and rural tranquility, or at least they do until my battered old car screeches to a halt in their driveway, instantly wiping £10 000 off local house prices until we leave again. The car engine is switched off or possibly stalls, and out stagger the Toddler Twinnage, hungry and over-tired after the Continue Reading
To The Pub
Evening all. Come sit awhile. You're very welcome here... unless you have cheese: I have a weird phobia of cheese. Please, people, take your cheese away. No, take it further away than that. We've been staying home and shivering quite a bit, the Toddler Twinnage and I, and comforting ourselves with easy bakes such as these apple and sultana muffins (recipe here). Would you like one? And by mid-afternoon it's so chilly that I go to the safe, deep in the oldest part of our brewery Continue Reading
As It Is In Yarn, So It Is In Life
And unexpectedly, there are knots. Knots in my cheapo practise yarn. Pah! I just shrug and hack those out. Knots in my beautiful green Fyberspates wool: I’m postponing tackling those, and have left the messy bundle on the kitchen table hoping that it’ll feel guilty enough to untangle itself. And – gasps – a knot in the precious arctic qiviut! <Clutches palm to brow and faints, melodramatically.> Knots aren’t usually a problem around here, so clearly the yarn is trying to communicate Continue Reading
In Which I Took A Tiny Break From Knitting To Visit The Family Seat
There is an old pub, deep in the rolling English countryside, not so very far from here. Baskets of flowers hang from its every exterior beam and bracket. A little fountain plays on the lawn out front, and a stone lizard guards its small pond. A ghost roams its cellar. There are rooms to rent for the weary traveller, and the bar is crowded with a collection of champagne bottles and every beer you could imagine. Returning outside, the flowerbeds are edged with bright pool balls, and the view is Continue Reading