Catching Up With Myself
Sitting comfortably? Good.
Just before Christmas our computer finally died on us. This was not totally unexpected after some emergency surgery earlier this year, but still came as a surprise as the computer had been really fine and well until we left it for a few days in order to travel to Aberdeenshire (a journey which was traumatic enough sans computer death - we were stuck on snowy roads for nearly three hours as traffic stopped moving following a black ice accident). On our return there was no response. I went out into the heavy snow to get spare parts, but spare parts did not work. We had to leave the UK knowing that our little home was without a working PC. It was not a happy thought. As you might have twigged by this very update, we have managed to bring a swanky new PC into our life and I'll end this extended metaphor before it gets out of hand.
So. Holidays, then. Aberdeenshire was snowy and cold. Denmark was surprisingly less snowy and not as cold. I had fun introducing David to Danish Christmas traditions and we all enjoyed ourselves eating far too many home-made chocolate nibbles, reading books and watching TV. On the picture on the left you can spot a bit of my parents' garden (we loved watching the variety of wildlife eating treats left for them) and also a bit of the beautifully trimmed Yule tree (spot my mum's folded stars? She's thinking of doing craft fairs next year).
We also made it to Copenhagen where the lovely Kirsten Marie graciously let us borrow her flat. This was a real treat as I usually see an insane amount of people whenever I'm in Copenhagen and do not really get to spend time in a city I called home for twelve years. Last time I saw 19 people in three days. This time we saw three people in 1-and-a half days. The rest of the time we just walked around the city, shot a few photos, walked some more, defrosted our cold bodies with super-expensive coffee (I had forgotten how expensive Denmark is!) and walked even more. Yarn shops may also have been involved, but more on that in a later post. Finally we made it out to regular blog commentator Darth Ken's flat for yummy food and great conversation. I continue to be ambivalent about my erstwhile home, but I cannot deny it was great just letting myself relax into a familiar space.
Scotland is still snowy, dammit. It is also really, really cold in our flat and I may have given in to this "heating the flat" thing because I'm almost wearing as much indoors as I am when I go outside. And we have a swanky new computer! Tomorrow's New Year's Eve (Hogmanay) and we are determined to have a very quiet night after the rather leisuredly busy Christmas.
So, tomorrow: an FO, some new yarn and a tiny bit about something else.
I Made This
I could have given you another photo of fog, fog, fog but one is enough, right? So, let's look at luscious handmade stuff instead.
First up is my new hat, the Cairnhill Tam. I don't really suit hats, alas, but I love wearing them. They keep me warm and snuggly - especially in foggy weather! I mentioned starting this hat on Tuesday. I finished it Thursday and blocked it Friday. A quick, satisfying knit which had all the right amounts of vaguely interesting techniques, portability and easy enough to knit in company with others.
The wools behaved as I expected: the coarse Gotland wool from the sheep farm was, well, coarse and hairy, but also gave the colourwork a rather delightful halo. The Rico Poems was not impressive and I doubt I will use it for anything more than the odd accessory (if that). It felt very much like Twilley's Freedom Spirit: splitty, loosely spun and pilly. Oh well. I love my new hat and I might just have enough for a pair of matchy, matchy mitts. I'm just not sure I want the Gotland wool anywhere near my wrists.
Onwards, onwards.
I finished my stepdad's Christmas scarf some time ago but kept forgetting to take a decent photo.
The pattern is sheer genius and makes for a great, portable project, although I did eventually get sick of all those short rows. I used one ball of King Cole Mirage which turned out to be an unexpected good woolblend yarn (to the aghast fibersnobs reading: every yarn has its place and I may just write about that someday soon). I have another three balls in a less sedate colourway stashed. I might just make something for myself (a Clapotis? A fan shawl?), although I have plenty of other yarns I'm anxious to use.
This leaves me with just two projects on the needles: David's sweater which I need to finish very soon and my Estonian flowers shawl which I am in no hurry to finish.
Finally, I baked last night. It was so cold and chilly outside that I caved in and made one of my favourite cakes. It is a spicy pear/ginger cake from Hubble Bubble, a cookbook I received as a present some eight or nine years ago. When I first saw its whimsical "food is magic" approach, I was not too sure about cooking anything from the book, but despite appearances, it has turned into one of my favourite cookbooks.
The spicy pear/ginger cake rarely lets me down and is pleasantly non-greasy. Unfortunately I forgot that our non-stick cake tin is no longer non-stick (don't ask) and the pretty pear pattern went a bit, ahem, pear-shaped. Still tastes good - and David sneaks an extra little slice when he thinks I am not looking.
(In case you are wondering why so many of my recent photos incorporate our Venetian blinds: it is the only place in the flat with decent daytime light)
Speaking of cakes and whatnot, this one leaves me a bit bedazzled. I am sure I don't have the cake decorating skills, but I'd like to try..
What A Difference A Dyejob Does
Meet Percy post-dyejob. That safety vest orange shawl turned into deep, vibrant Wollmeise-esque red shawl. I am very, very, very happy with it.
Some of you have asked how I dyed the shawl. I had a big ovenproof dish into which I poured half my dye solution. I put my shawl (which had been soaking in lukewarm water for 30 minutes) into the dish and poured the rest of the dye solution over it. I squished the shawl gently to ensure that the dye was seeping into all parts of it, and then I put the whole thing into the oven at Gas Mark 1/140C for 45 minutes. Then I took it out and let it all cool before rinsing the shawl thoroughly. It was very easy. I think that I'll use a similar method on all those overtly variegated lace yarns I have lying about.
Speaking of ovens, I baked David's birthday cake last night so we could have some just post-midnight (we are both children at heart). The cake is one of my all-time favourites and it's so easy to make.
Meringue Cake (serves four or five)
Sponge:
2/3 cup butter
1 cup sugar
2 egg yolks
1 egg
½ tsp vanilla essence
1½ cups all purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
Meringue:
2 egg whites
2/3 cups sugar
Filling:
Raspberry jam.
Mix butter, sugar, egg yolks, vanilla and egg for about 4 minutes. Add flour and baking powder and fold in gently. Pour the batter into a small, greased oven-proof dish. Put the filling on top (if using jam, try heating it a bit before as to making it more runny/easier to spread - see notes). Whip the egg whites until stiff, then folding in half the sugar. Whip the egg whites again and gently fold in the rest of the sugar. Pour on top of the cake and bake for 1 hour at 150C/Gas Mark 2/300F.
Notes on filling: you can basically use whichever filling you want. I'd recommend using something sharp or tart as the rest of the cake is very sweet. Instead of raspberry jam, you could use tart apples (peel and slice them before adding them) or maybe even gooseberries? One of my friends tried adding banana and loved it, but I found it way too sweet.
(I would have shared a picture of the cake but funnily enough it has all disappeared. So, instead, you get a photo of me freezing.)
A Strong Brown God (And Soup)
I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river
Is a strong brown god—sullen, untamed and intractable,
Patient to some degree, at first recognised as a frontier;
Useful, untrustworthy, as a conveyor of commerce;
Then only a problem confronting the builder of bridges.
The problem once solved, the brown god is almost forgotten
By the dwellers in cities—ever, however, implacable.
Keeping his seasons and rages, destroyer, reminder
Of what men choose to forget. Unhonoured, unpropitiated
By worshippers of the machine, but waiting, watching and waiting.- TS Eliot; from "Dry Salvages"; Four Quartets.*
The flood season has begun, in other words. Just south of the Scottish border, a policeman is currently missing as a bridge collapses in the floods. Early this morning I went for a walk along our nearby river, The Kelvin. I have never never seen it this high, although I know one of its bridges was swept away in a flood years back.
On the second photo you can see a bench where I sometimes sit knitting on sunny weekend afternoons. Not much chance of that happening right now! If we get any more rain, I think the pathways around the Kelvin are likely to be closed off. Luckily the river runs in a gorge, so there are no immediate threats to buildings in this area.
As you can imagine it has really been dreich lately so last night I made a warm, delicious soup:
Sweet Potato & Chilli Soup (serves an army of six)
1 red onion, roughly chopped
1 red chilli, de-seeded and roughly chopped
2 large carrots, diced
3 garlic cloves, peeled and roughly chopped
2 big sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into walnut-sized chunks
2 cups of veg stock (or more, see instructions)
½ tin of coconut milk
½ tsp of cayenne pepper
1 tsp of ground cumin
salt to taste (amount really depends upon the type of stock you use)
1 tbsp of olive oil
optional extras: handful of shredded cheese and dash of paprika
1. Heat the oil and add onion, garlic, chilli, cayenne pepper and cumin. Cook for about 5 min. at medium heat. Add carrots and cook until onion softened. Add sweet potato chunks. Add as much stock as will cover the veg. Put lid and cook until all veg have softened. This will take about 25-30 minutes.
2. Blend the soup - try to aim for a consistency between super-smooth and chunky. Take care you do not splash any of the hot soup on yourself (she says looking at her left hand). Add coconut milk and stir until well-mixed. Serve in bowls with some good rustic bread on the side. I put some shredded (lacto-free) cheese on top and dressed it with a dash of paprika, but I can be a bit poncy at times.
Substitutions etc: I used coconut milk because I'm lactose intolerant. You could easily use double cream, natural yoghurt or regular milk instead. If using milk/cream, you could also add a tin of chopped tomatoes and use basil and marjoram instead for a slightly more Mediterranean taste. Instead of sweet potato you could use butternut squash or even pumpkin. The sky's the limit.
(*Or, as someone said earlier this week: "water is patient".)
Look! A Yule Pig!
My gran sent me a pile of knitting patterns from her ladies' magazines. I always enjoy looking at these patterns. Many are reprinted patterns from yarn companies' leaflets, but they are recent reprints and often patterns I would not have had access to by virtue of being in another country. I have never made any of these patterns, though.
Until now.
Just look at those POTHOLDERS! Yes, fair isle potholders with traditional Scandinavian Christmas motifs (a Yule Pig! a Yule Buck!) with crocheted edgings! I'm terribly excited by these super-Scandinavian potholders and I have the urge to buy some Rowan Handiknit Cotton right this minute!! Exclamation Mark!
(Sanity? What sanity?)
My gran also sent me various craft kits for Christmas decorations. It's a bit early for me to get crafty but I predict that next Saturday will be spent at the dining table with scissors and superglue. I'll be making kræmmerhuse (stitching not included) and julehjerter whilst scoffing gran's peppernuts and IKEA's pepparkakor. And Dave will be somewhere else because he always bit nervous when I go into full Scandi-Christmas mode.
Unrelated: stay tuned for a finished object. My Byronic Percy Shawl is currently blocking and it's very, very pretty (and very orange).
Recovery
Today marked the first day that I've been outside in about ten days. The weather was lovely: crisp and on the cusp of winter. I walked through the arboretum down to the newly opened Waitrose where I hoped to find fresh baker's yeast and buttermilk .. and maybe even a loaf of rye bread. I had to queue to get to the milk section(!) and, nope, no buttermilk and no fresh baker's yeast and no loaves of rye bread. The quest continues - although technically I am intolerant to buttermilk and technically I can buy buttermilk at an organic green grocer's a brisk thirty minute walk away from where I live. But: bah!
Knitting-wise I have conquered the dreaded Chart B on my orange shawl and in my utter joy to get to the relatively easy Chart C, my brain went out the window. I have now tinkered back seven rows (not easy in splitty 2-ply baby alpaca) and am about to start Chart C again. Hopefully this time I will concentrate and not just go "Ha! Only half the rows are important now. Which row am I on again?"
I don't know how many of you watched (and thus loved) the Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog webcast earlier this year, but those of you who fall prey to anything Joss Whedonesque, you might get a kick out of the prequel, Horrible Turn, which is a fanmade prequel. I have only watched the first episode, but liked what I saw much more than expected.
And now our dreams of travelling on the Orient Express have been crushed, I have been looking into other possibilities. I'm quite taken with the idea of the Transsiberian railway. Instead of spending £3,700 on a 36-hour train trip, we could spend £5,600 on a 26 day long train journey running Moscow - Ekatarina - Irkutsk - Ulaan Bataar - Beijing. I even speak rudimentary Russian (handy and useful!). I have long wanted to visit Russia - so why not go all-out? At the moment it is not feasible for us to do this - money and work reasons - but in my head the Transsiberian sounds like much better than the Orient Express.
Ah.
The Reading Survey
15. What is the most difficult book you’ve ever read?
This is being written whilst I’m gritting my teeth: Ben Marcus’ The Age of Wire and String. It’s a very, very short novel. I spent a month reading it. Then Stupid Boyfriend said: “Oh. Did you try to make sense of it? I didn’t. I just read it for the beautiful words.”
&/#”/! The book was excellent, actually, and said really interesting things about ritual language and how language acquires meaning. I am never going to read it again.
That question/answer and thirty-one others can be found at The Reading Survey which I have posted as a static page as it is too long to post here.
Thank you for all your well-wishing. I am still under the weather and have developed a nasty cough. This means I'll miss out on tonight's Guy Fawkes events but there will be others.
Also, in case you have not read it, this little post by Ysolda Teague summed up everything I wanted to say today (and it reminded me that I need to make a batch of Apple Butter as Casa Bookish's usual supply from the St. Alban Church Fete has finally run low after I have been unable to attend/stock up for several years).