What to Do With Tension Squares?

Autumn is coming. It's time for a cardigan.
© Melissa Schaschwary

Ok. I'm taking the plunge. After years of flirting with the idea of knitting something more ambitious than a scarf or hat I'm going to attempt...

... a cardigan.

Granted, a small one for a toddler so that I can spot the knitting disasters sooner and have less to unravel when it all goes horribly wrong. But a cardigan nonetheless.

Here's the pattern on Ravelry, the ever-so-sweet, slightly 1950s retro Cricket cardigan by Melissa Schaschwary.

© Melissa Schaschwary

© Melissa Schaschwary

Very classic and charming, n'est pas? A character from Swallows and Amazons or maybe Anne from The Famous Five would be sporting one of these. As for the yarn, I made the wonderful discovery of a mountain of German angora DK circa 1989 in my mother's own craft cupboard of dream (we all have such cupboards don't we? So many projects. So little time...). Here's the mountain of fluffiness:

So much 1980s angora.

And I'll be making the cardigan out of the pale blue.

It's at this point I have a confession. All those hats and scarves of from the past... Yeah... I've kind of just thrown myself into them without bothering with a tension square. Bad, bad habit I know. Thus I've made two tension squares before starting the cardigan so that will be one less chance of mucking up the project.

But what's the best bit? During a soggy afternoon with an energetic toddler I found a use for the squares. Ready?

TA DAAAA!

Living the dream.

House and Garden, World of Interiors and Elle Decor, eat your respective hearts out for your eyes do not deceive you. That is indeed Upsy Daisy from In the Night Garden fame, snuggled up under a blanket of cloudy softness that makes one sigh.

Behold! the other square is a rug beneath a Philip Starck-inspired chair and coffee table made out of a toilet roll. The other half of said roll is Upsy Daisy's bed. Her abode? A bit of book case.

One bijoux, impromptu apartment for a plastic figurine. One happy toddler. One mother, surprised at her creativity under pressure.

(Images: Zoë F. Willis & Melissa Schaschwary)

The Simple Things Magazine- I've been published!

How terribly exciting. Issue 14 of The Simple Things magazine is out at the moment and if you turn to pages 50-53 you'll see an article wot I wrote. It's nothing about textiles, wool or London (for a change) but is all about fruit. Bet you weren't expecting that, were you?

Get your magnifying glass out. In the bottom left hand corner is my name... in print!

Karim Habibi of Keepers Nursery in Kent was the willing interviewee and keen exponent of traditional British orchard fruit varieties. And all those stunning photos of quinces, medlars and obscure yet delicious apple varieties?

So much fruit. So many ways to cook and eat them. Just where to begin?

Nope. Not mine. Pfffff! I'm just not that good (yet). They're all Karim's and it's fantastic that they're out there for all the world - well, the 50,000-odd readers of The Simple Things and 30-odd followers of TWIHM - to see.

I must admit as fun as this blogging malarky is, what with the immediacy of instant publication into the blogosphere and the creative flexibility the medium affords...

... it's totally and utterly thrilling to see one's work in print.

Hard copy.

All 1,400 words of it.

Just waiting for some researcher of the future to stumble across and interpolate through some sort of bonkers postmodernist / psychoanalytical / semiotic (delete where applicable) framework.

And after last year's 2 sentence effort it's reassuring to know that I've contributed just a tiny bit more to that awesome collection in the British Library.

Time for another Morris Dance of delight with a medlar tart to follow. Huzzah!

(Image: The Simple Things & Zoë F. Willis)

Baby Hat

A small baby hat. A lot of dedications.

I think it's time for a small, knitted baby hat.

I know there are one or two of these lurking about the internet but to my mind there aren't enough. So here's another one.

This is also a very special baby hat. Aside from the fact it's made of lovely, soft (and machine washable. Such an important consideration for all mothers) merino wool and has a bow on top, it's almost weighed down with dedications.

Can you dedicate a bit of knittery to people or events? I say, why on earth not. The world is littered with statues and blue plaques dedicated to marvellous and great individuals. And then there's The Mamas and The Papas' song of course.

Thus let there be dedicatory knittery.

In this instance, there are three dedications:

1. To the baby in question, by now a newish arrival in the world with personality, opinions and ready, always ready, for cuddles.

"But what of the fact," I hear you cry, "that 'tis AUGUST. High summer. What possible need could an infant have of woolly milinery at this time of year? You'll do the child damage with all that insulation"

To which I respond; "Jolly good thing it's an antipodean baby. It's bloomin' freezing in the Southern Hemisphere at the moment. Huzzah for insulation!".

2. To the baby's mother who is awesomeness and strength personified. The woolly-hatted bairn is blessed to have this particular mummy.

3. To mothers in general. We should launch a campaign to dedicate all the hand-made knittery in all the world to mothers. Most of the time we're too busy chasing after, caring for and loving our progeny, ensuring they'll turn out to be respectable and decent members of our society, to blow our own trumpets of fabulousness. 

Said progeny are too busy being children - fair enough. It's an exciting world to discover - to regularly blow a trumpet for our fabulousness.

And the rest of the humanity is too busy doing rest-of-humanity stuff to dwell on how fantastic we are, never mind finding a trumpet of fabulousness much less blowing it for us.

Therefore this small, knitted baby hat is a start. The small, knitted baby hat of fabulousness for an antipodean baby, her wonderful mother and mothers everywhere.

It's better than a trumpet anyway. It's cute, quiet and machine washable.

(Image: Zoë F. Willis)