Posts tagged family

I Need Distractions

My great-grandmother’s bedspread/blanket arrived today.

Every single square was knitted individually in moss-stitch and then sewn together before she picked up stitches, knitted an edge, cast off, and crocheted a decorative edge. (So much work. I can deal with the huge amounts of mustard yellow in the spread, in other words.) I wonder if I should drape it over our sofa.. We live in a rented flat, so some of the furniture is not exactly to our taste (particularly the pink-yellow chintz sofa).

Thank you for the comments on Becoming Less than a Magpie. After writing it, I went straight to Ravelry and started weeding out my queue. It has gone from 247 patterns queued to 77 projects queued. It feels very liberating. I know the new autumn/winter collections will be hitting the web soon, so I am prepared to see my queue get a bit longer, but I am keeping the following self-imposed rules in mind:

  • Will it flatter my figure?
  • Will it work with existing items in my wardrobe?
  • Do I already have similar objects in my wardrobe?
  • Will I get any use out of it?

In other words, I will assess concrete things like gauge and shape as well as abstract things like style and wearability. Also, I will no longer be queueing fifteen patterns when one well-chosen pattern suffices.

Style is quite abstract, isn’t it? I am not fashionable (although for one brief month back in 1995 I was outrageously trendy) but I do think a lot about style. Being Danish I have grown up with a certain Nordic aesthetic – you might best know it from countless IKEA catalogues. Scandinavians like their simple lines, plenty of light and very little nonsense to their architecture/furniture/designs. A typical Danish knitting design would be something along the lines of Topstykke, Duet or Granite. Plain knitting with a little twist. On the other hand I have never been a very good Dane and I turned into an bit of an Anglophile when I was very young, cue the love of tweedy things with cables and fair-isle (or, in other words, everything Rowan). Add to that, an uncompromising love of Modernist art and design (and that pesky Scandinavian mid-century modern influence) and that is pretty much where “my style” is at.

See why my queue has shrunk so much? Yeah.

Now I’m off to wave a tiny Danish paper flag about. The Danish football team is playing their first World Cup match today and I’m slightly worried as they are meeting one of the top contenders, Holland. It is going to be tense and I still cannot knit.

Day Two: Inspirations & Aspirations

Fourth Edition is taking part in the Knitting & Crocheting Blog Week, and you can read more about that blog project here.

As I wrote yesterday, my grandmother has been knitting me jumpers and cardigans all my life. My all-time favourite jumper was one she knitted me when I was eleven. I chose the colours myself – forest green and dark red – and I wore it until my gran decided she had better knit me another one. Unfortunately I did not get to choose the colours second time around as I was living in London, not rural Denmark, and I ended up with a beige/fawn combination which I loathed.

Last time I went to visit her, my grandmother had uncovered the pattern she had used for the two jumpers.  The apple does not fall far from the tree, because Gran had obviously modified the pattern. Instead of a cardigan knitted in pieces, she had knitted the jumper in the round with subsequent steeking and whatnot.

I want to knit that jumper. I want my forest-green/red jumper back and I have the pattern right here in front of me. It is a 24-stitches/37-rows repeat, and fortunately I have Gran’s marginal notes so I can follow her math. I plan on knitting it in the round as well, but I am not sure about the sleeve construction. Should I steek for drop-shoulders? Should I attempt to re-chart the pattern for a round yoke? I know I will be wanting a high-turtleneck.

Gran used postal order wool (I still remember pouring over shadecards with her). The actual pattern calls for a yarn which is miraculously still available – Sandnes Garn Peer Gynt (and rav link). It is a standard double-knitting pure wool yarn which should be easy to substitute. The real concern is if I can get the colours I want. Jamieson & Smith seem an obvious choice, but I’m also wondering if I should go for a slightly different look to my original jumper by choosing Rowan Felted Tweed (Rage and Pine would look so very lovely together).

Why is this an inspirational pattern for me? I know I have the skills to knit this – but I am actually a bit afraid of undertaking this project due to its many layers of meaning. By undertaking this project I will be admitting that Gran is no longer able to knit me a jumper and that I am, in a sense, “taking over” from her. In fact, I am now knitting her things, not the other way around. By knitting this jumper I am also reaching out to my own younger self – that young girl who feared so many things and felt so horribly out of place. And I am attempting to replace something which meant a great deal to me and I am afraid that my recreation will not measure up.

Who knew that sticks and string could be so .. meaningful, eh?

Day One: Starting Out

Fourth Edition is taking part in the Knitting & Crocheting Blog Week, and you can read more about that blog project here.

My great-great-grandmother, Ingeborg, died in the 1960s but lives on in the stories told by my grandmother and my mother. Ingeborg was nearly blind when she died, but she kept knitting socks until her final days. My grandmother tells me that Ingeborg would worry about her tension becoming wonky and about dropped stitches, but despite failing eyesight Ingeborg’s socks were as immaculate as they were back in the early 20th century when she kept her sons and one daughter, my great-grandmother, in steady supply of socks.

Intriguingly, Ingeborg used the English method, unlike her daughter (and subsequent generations) who were/are Continental knitters. I was taught to knit by my great-grandmother who was an important influence upon my life. She would knit long strips of garterstitch and sew them together into huge throws (and as I am writing this, I am awaiting a parcel from Denmark containing one of her huge, colourful throws). She would normally use whatever she had to hand – my momse had raised eighteen children through the 1930s and 1940s, and had very little time for anyone complaining about fibres or colours: if it kept you warm, you better be happy (and keep quiet about blue not being your favourite colour).

My grandmother has influenced me more than anyone else. Whenever I am with her, we make things. Arthritis has sadly put a stop to most of her creative endeavours, but she is a wonderfully multi-facetted crafter: sewing, knitting, crocheting, hardanger-embroidery, cross-stitching, and .. I can think of at least five other crafts she has tried.

She started knitting me pullovers and cardigans when I was a baby and, well, she has only stopped now due to her arthritis.  My grandmother made me the pullover I am wearing in the picture below. I think I am about six years old in the photo. She favours cables and textures above all other things, although she is also extremely fond of fair-isle knitting, and as Gran has never done lace knitting, I made her a lace shawl for Christmas (it was very well-received).

The most important craft lesson she has taught me? You can make it yourself.

My mother is no less crafty, although she channels her creative energy into other things such as gardening and writing. Mum crochets more than she knits and she tends towards making things for her home: table cloths, napkins and doilies. I think I get my love of delicate projects from her, as she prefers extremely fine/small-gauge work to quick projects. Her attention to details is legendary.

I do not remember when I was taught to knit or crochet, but I know that all my life I have been Making Things (and now I live with someone who also Makes Things). As a child I would knit fair-isle pullovers for my dolls(!) and made quite good pocket-money selling dolls’ clothes to the neighbourhood kids. As a teenager I was mostly caught up in crocheting (and calligraphy, but that is another story) and made myself some, ahem, interesting pullovers. I abandoned knitting and crocheting for almost a decade, but rediscovered my roots when I found myself with some unexpected downtime. Nowadays I cannot imagine myself not creating things with my hands. It calms me and strengthens me in often surprising ways.

And, most of all, I am a fifth-generation* crafter and I feel connected to my family history every time I pick up my needles.

*at least

In Her Soft Wind I Will Whisper

momseLady on the left? My great-grandmother. She would have been ninety-four today.

The photo was taken in the early 1950s outside her cottage and she is with two of her sons, K and T.

I have several photos of her; my other favourite is from the 1930s when she was approached by a travelling salesman who wanted her to become a hair model. I presume she shot him one of her withering glances. The photo shows her with long, gorgeous hair. I was told it was chestnut-coloured. The photo is black/white.

I was lucky enough to grow up around her. She minded me when I was pre-kindergarten and I spent most of my school holidays in her cottage. Her cottage did not have running water until I was maybe seven or eight and never got central heating. I can still envision her sitting in her chair in front of the kerosene-fuelled stove. She’d knit long garter stitch strips from yarn scraps and sew them into blankets. I think she was the one who taught me to knit. She was certainly the one who taught me how to skip rope.

Happy birthday, momse. We may not always have seen eye to eye, but we loved and understood each other. And I still miss you.

Title comes from this beautiful farewell song (youtube link). Post reposted from 2009 with Momse’s age amended. I continue to miss her.

Counting the Days

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This entry’s by request..

Starting on the fourth Sunday before Christmas, Danes will open so-called “advent presents” and light a candle in their advent krans (I have not made an advent krans since the year one caught fire in my Copenhagen flat and nearly burned down the house). The presents are usually small – I have been known to find novelty socks in my parcels.

However, my gran has obviously decided that a “small present” equals giving me 11 (ELEVEN) balls of yummy DK-weight superwash wool in a rather fetching shade of red. She’s included a pattern for a yoked cardigan too. I have three more parcels to go. I dread to think what she might have come up with. Incidentally David found a handknitted beanie in his advent present. I seem to spot a theme..

(Sorry about the ’80s feel about this photo – it was the best I could do in order to capture the colour)

The advent calendar is a variation upon a theme. When I was very young, I would get a julekalender instead, much like the one Linn is blogging about. Twenty-four tiny parcels, one for each day leading up to Christmas. The presents were tiny – maybe a pencil or a piece of chocolate – but they served their purpose. I got out of bed on time and I kept track of how many days I had to wait until Christmas.

Linn mentions something which I really miss here in Scotland: the calendar candle (not to be confused with the advent krans). One candle with numbers 1 to 24 clearly marked and each day you burn away one number. Just before December 1st, you make a “juledekoration” to really display the candle (I have fond memories of going to the woods with my family and finding materials for these things) and then each night as you are having dinner or tea, you light the candle. The trick is to get the right size candle so you do not burn away the numbers too quickly or slowly.

And the final way of counting the days? The televised yule calendar. Yup, twenty-four episodes of a special Christmas children’s show with one episode shown per day. It’s usually about how Christmas is in danger for one reason or another.. You’d get a royal version with princesses and Christmas gnomes,one taking place in Greenland, a puppet version, a 19th century version and, well, one for the grown-ups (all YouTube links and, yes, Danes are very fond of singing..)

Any particular Christmas traditions in your family or in your culture?

Monday Mood

We have a pile of wrapped presents in our living room. David is celebrating his birthday this week and I finished wrapping his presents yesterday whilst he was out looking at naked ladies at his art class. I also made a head start on wrapping the Christmas presents. Now I’m all antsy because we have a pile of wrapped presents in our living room and I really want to open them all. I have never been the most patient person in the world.

David’s birthday means that I will not be able to go to Gourock on Saturday. Scotland’s newest yarn shop, Once A Sheep, is hosting an Ysolda Teague event and I would actually like to meet some of the Edinburgh knitters I only know online. I’m also one of the few knitters who do not own a copy of Ysolda’s new book and the event at Once A Sheep would have been a perfect time to buy it. Oh well. Maybe I should just go to Edinburgh soon?

(Speaking of crafty things .. if you fancy some Malabrigo, Madelinetosh or some luscious Debbie Bliss Tweed, head over to Make Do & Mend. Mooncalf is doing a blog giveaway. She is a lovely woman.)

Finally, I have begun yet another lace project. I’m convinced it is because I’m stuck doing the sleeves for David’s sweater. I really should focus on the sweater, shouldn’t I? After all, it is the boy’s birthday later this week..

Self Portrait With Dark Felt Hat

vangogh

.. one Halloween costume down, one to go.

Other Half is currently trying to consider whether or not to stab the ear with a palette knife or not.

Oh, decisions…

Whit?

I had to laugh when I saw this little news story: Company seeks Glaswegian interpreter.

Today Translations spokesman, Mick Thorburn said: “Over the last few months we’ve had clients asking us for Glaswegian translators.

(..)

“Usually, the role would involve translating documents but in this case its more likely to be assisting foreign visitors to the city whose ‘business English’ is not good enough to understand the local dialect.”

(..)

He added: “We’re not necessarily looking for people who are particularly skilled in linguistics, just candidates who can help out clients who may struggle with native Glaswegian.”

I remember arriving in Glasgow and not being able to understand most of what was being said around me. While getting some Glaswegian colleagues helped (although I have never found a use for the phrase “that fake bake is pure dead brilliant, hen”), I struggled until I twigged that Glaswegian is basically akin to my Danish uncles attempting to speak English. There is a certain flatness to Glaswegian intonation that is very, very similar to mid-Zealandic intonation and some words spoken with a broad Glaswegian accent sound more like their Danish counterpart than the actual standard English word: home becomes hame which sounds quite like a slurred mid-Zealandic hjem. For a girl who has tried to escape rural Denmark for most of her life, all this feels a bit like a cosmic joke.

Thanks to my friend Lise, I spent most of my lunch reading about the 16th best football team in the word ever. The most recent incarnation is through to next year’s World Cup which bodes well for the amount of (tense) knitting I’ll get done. Huzzah!

The Threads That Bind Us Together

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Knitting is in my blood. My great-great-grandmother knitted socks, my great-grandmother taught me to knit, my grandmother has never been without a project in her knitting basket and my mother loves knitting socks although she prefers to crochet.

According to my grandmother, my great-great-grandmother, Ingeborg,  “threw” her knitting and it was not until I moved to the UK I understood what she meant. Ingeborg knitted in the English manner. I continue to wonder about Ingeborg throwing rather than picking (i.e. the Continental way). Where did she learn a style which is not used in Denmark? Who taught her? I wish I knew more about her.

Now my grandmother has expressed a desire to get “something knitted” from me for Christmas. Gran used to knit sample sweaters for a local yarn shop and you should see the fair isle sweaters she used to knit for me. Of course I cannot find any photos of them (and she gave them all to charity at one point, annoyingly), but I remember them as being stunning. My particular favourite was one knitted in Faroese colourwork (two colours, geometric patterns) in bright red and dark green. I know she still has the pattern and I harbour dreams of recreating it.

On the photo above  you can see me aged five or thereabouts. I’m wearing one of Gran’s creations: it looks like brioche stitch to me with set-in sleeves. I’ll spare you the other photo I found. It was a zipped cardigan with a hood done in lilac. I’ve always hated zips in knitwear, wearing a hood and the colour lilac. Now I know why. A childhood trauma, clearly.

sept09 657But what do you knit for a woman whose knitting I have worn since I was a baby?

The obvious answer is lace.

Gran has never knitted much lace, much preferring cables, brioche stitch and colourwork. When I knitted a scarf for my mother last year, Gran kept talking about the fine detailing and the delicate stitches. My family does not do “subtle” very well.

I looked in my stash and uncovered a beautiful hank of Old Maiden Aunt merino/silk in “Gothic”. Then I looked at a gazillion lace shawls on Ravelry before deciding to go with a pattern I have used before: the good, old Swallowtail shawl by Evelyn A. Clark. It is one of the prettiest shawl patterns available, I’ve knit it twice before and know its pitfalls, and I know I can get it done in plenty of time for the holidays even if I’m going to enlargen it slightly (it is a bit dainty).

Think my Gran will like it? I think so.

Along the Canal

sept09 560Alexander Trocchi‘s novel, Young Adam, is an interesting little piece of Scottish beat literature, if rather uneven. It tells the story of Joe, a young disaffected man working and living on a barge boat travelling between Edinburgh and Glasgow. The film adaptation, which stars Ewan McGregor, Tilda Swinton and Peter Mullan, is excellent and well-worth your time (if you like your films grim and existential). Nowadays I live a very short walk away from the Forth and Clyde canal where Young Adam is set – I still halfway expect to see Ewan McGregor in a fetching fisherman’s sweater every time we walk along the canal.

Today we walked down to the annual Big Man event which seeks to get the local community involved in the area surrounding the Forth and Clyde canal. Local artist Andy Scott is hoping to erect a 30m steel sculpture-cum-footbridge (the Big Man) across one of the canal junctions – in Scott’s own words: “the footbridge will be representational of the historic ironworks, boat-building and other industries that were found in the (..) area. I hope he becomes a symbol of the area’s proud history and a beacon of hope for the future”.

Anyway.

I’ve now embarked on the bane of my life: the Christmas wish list. Usually I get asked for it in August but this year my family managed to wait until end of September because we are going across to Denmark and so they do not need to post the presents. I’m wondering if it would be okay to ask for yarn seeing as I’m yet to knit up all the yarn I got last year.. Any good Danish knitting books just published? Any new Scandinavian yarns? Any good shawl pin vendors in Denmark?

Now to write the UK version..