Patterns and Stories

Helping my mother to sort and declutter her home, I had to keep reminding myself that I had this same process to face in my own home. We kept turning up little items that evoked memories or simply charmed my vintage-loving heart. What might have happened if I didn't have the prospect of  a long haul flight to discipline my magpie tendencies, doesn't bear thinking about. But as I had been meaning to make a frilly tea cosy simply for the fun of it,  this booklet came home with me.

I can remember the two cushions shown at the top of the cover in my grandmother's and my aunt's houses. Mum doesn't recollect making any items in the book but by the state of it, it has been well used, possibly by her mother or her sisters.

 I have to admit though that I had almost forgotten about it since coming home. Just by chance, scouring the Internet for a pattern for something else, I happened to find a picture and instructions for the cottage tea-cosy. I recognised it immediately and the reference to Madame Weigel, Series 6.  (I suspect that most of the patterns in the book are now available from that site.) Having jogged my memory about the book, I had to dig it out along with some left over bits and pieces to try knitting up a swatch of daffodil stitch for the ruffly tea cosy. I had been curious to see how the ruffles were created. Just knitting a swatch solved that and seems to have sated any enthusiasm I might have had for the project. All that extra casting on every 14 rows is just more hassle than fun for me.

It doesn't end there. This blog is my place to store the things I find amazing, amusing, delightful or delicious and deciding not to follow up on something wouldn't really count, would it? I couldn't help but wonder who this Madame Weigel was. Each pattern, especially the koala, has a rather whimsical little introduction before the instructions for the distinctive designs. Back to the Internet for some research and what I found was a fascinating story. Knitting and crochet patterns for household items were a  minor part of Madame's enterprise. During the latter part of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, she had a thriving paper pattern company. At a time when many women would have made clothes for themselves and their children, paper patterns were hugely popular. She had emigrated as a young girl from Posen in what was then Prussia, to America where she worked for the McCall's company, learning to draft patterns. She later married and while she was on honey moon in Australia, initially intending to stay for 6 months ( ah, honeymoons just aren't what they used to be!) she began to make patterns for her own clothes as her style was obviously admired and women she met were keen to copy it. She and her husband spotted the gap in the market and set up business and home in Melbourne designing and printing paper patterns and publishing a fashion journal. There is much more in the story, fire destroying a lovely home, anonymous charitable donations, extensive travel to ensure the business reflected the latest fashions,  mystery surrounding the graves of the couple.
The company no longer exists but its publications are highly sought after by vintage fashion enthusiasts, particularly the paper patterns in unopened condition complete with instructions. Along with Florence Broadhurst she becomes one of my Australian style heroines.

Mm, maybe this booklet should have gone into the box of things that Mum and I took to donate to the local museum.

Days of Daffodils

There's no ignoring them! The sunny days we have had lately could have been made for them. They are everywhere; in clumps, drifts and even modest singles, all reminding us how well Wordsworth captured the impression they give. 'Jocund company' undoubtedly.

We found these in the garden under an old apple tree, one of the pleasures of our first spring living here. With their fresh  colour combination of palest yellow and clear gold and an elegant twist to each petal and even the leaves, I have been delighted to see them each year since. I have planted other daffodils in the garden, but I think the only others I like almost as well as these are the Tete-a-Tete which are almost over now, having picked up the baton from the snowdrops.

The choice now is to decide  whether to enjoy them in the garden or to bring their cheer inside and have vases of them throughout the house. With some special care when bringing them indoors,  the toxic effect that the sap from their stems has on other flowers and leaves can be minimised.

Meanwhile it seems just the right time to let the daffodil effect creep into my knitting.

Mother Nature's Garden

When it comes to gardening and tending our own patch, I know my place. I am the under-gardener, along with HeWhoMowsTheLawn. The Head Gardener is Mother Nature and for much of the time I love what she does. For instance, one February, I was given a tray of primulas which I planted in troughs and tubs. They were the usual mix of colours; bright yellow, intense blue, bold pink, in short all those gaudy colours that give municipal planting a bad name. Just one of them was a soft cream. Those troughs brought a brash cheeriness to the garden that, in all honesty, I didn't feel we were quite ready for in March. The next year I found that the soft cream one had self-seeded itself nearby in a spot of dappled shade. Lovely. Mother Nature showing me how it should be done.

She and I don't always agree. Do two gardeners in the same space ever agree all the time? She doesn't think a camellia is appropriate here and I think bindweed on camouflage netting proportions is excessive even if it does have lovely white flowers. I would agree that it is reasonable to expect that our plot should offer nourishment to more than one species but I have to say that the slugs and the deer seem to be getting more than their fair share. Most of the time we rub along harmoniously  but there are times when we almost seem to be at loggerheads, furiously trying to undo the work the other has done. Right now, just on the Vernal Equinox, I am simply in awe of the wonders she is working.
She has fattened buds ready to burst

and leaves to unfurl

She is orchestrating the  blossom so that as one kind fades and finishes another is ready to take its place.

 

She has carefully lacquered each celandine petal but saved some gold polish for the buttercups that come later.

She has even assembled the pest control team

and sent a scout or two out on reconnaissance.

The pollinator crew are also out and about but too busy to stop for a photo call. It all makes for a wonderful time to be out seeing everything taking heart from the warmth and sunshine. Time too to be rolling up my sleeves and doing my part.

Rag Baskets - A Tutorial

Maybe I am getting a bit ahead of myself with this idea but I couldn't help seeing how nest-like the Little Bowls were. And of course nests are made to hold eggs!

 

 These could well be given away in a few weeks. I had better make some notes about how I made these; what choices I made about the process and most importantly if there is anything I would do differently if I make more in the future.

Feasting on Weeds

How good it is to see the new growth bursting through the soil in the garden.

As well as the crocuses, daffodils and the promise of tulips, there are inevitably some less welcome arrivals. Just before these plants develop into full-grown thugs though, some are worth a little harvesting. If for no other reason, it is always nice to be reminded that the pleasure of picking and collecting food from my own garden is not so far off now and the fun of foraging further afield is also coming up.  Picking 'wild food' in the garden combines both pleasures.
 I like to add just a few leaves to supplement shop bought salad greens. Newly emerged they are more tender and delicately flavoured than they will be later. Having researched the possibilities and consulted Richard Mabey I choose from the weed cornucopia bursting forth in my backyard. 

Little Bowls

 

Having made several Little Boxes since autumn, I felt it was time to move along to a slightly different take on the subject. Still crochet, still the same stitch but a different shape and a different 'yarn'.

Down-sizing is looming on our horizon and, in order not be left with trying to fit the proverbial quart into a pint pot, de-cluttering seems to feature in our day to day activities. One large sack I found stashed away out of sight held all the clothes that had been shed from our wardrobes but for one reason or another we were sure that no charity would accept with any degree of sincerity. Amongst these items were several shirts. Lightweight fabrics and worn even thinner, they clearly would not make serviceable cleaning rags but as I prepared to stuff them back into the bag, I was reminded of some fabric bowls I had seen once in a magazine. Earlier de-cluttering meant that the magazine was long gone - well, probably - so I turned to the Internet for ideas. A little browsing later and I was set to start. 

I chose three blue shirts and cut the backs into bias cut strips about 4cms wide. The idea of sewing these strips together to make a continuous thread to work with seemed tedious so I was grateful to find that I could make slits near the ends of each piece and loop them together to make a continuous  kind of chain. 

To make the bowl/basket, I followed one pattern fairly closely but wasn't all that pleased with the end result. I could see the potential of the material and I was sure the largest hook I could find would be adequate but the shape was, well, more of a miss-shape. So I unravelled it and started over, this time taking directions from the work growing in my hands. Much better. At least the rim looked round. Sort of.

 The inside looked much smoother than the outside so I tried turning it inside out. The sides were straighter and more upright. Working, unravelling and reworking had fuzzed up the edges of the strips. Maybe I am  influenced by the seasonal activities of the birds in the garden at the moment but I decided that this time I preferred the cup shape and rougher surface of the way it was when I completed it. I wanted to leave some of the little triangles at the joins so I trimmed only the larger ones. I liked the fuzzy little nest I had made.

I liked it enough to start work on another one straight away, this time recording each step and making notes about what worked and how to do it. Enough for a tutorial post? Let's see.

The bliss of citrus

Sometimes in the mornings I need a boost  that goes beyond the reach of coffee to really alert me to the possibilities of the day ahead. There are days that appear so gloomy first thing,  that it really takes the kick of  tangy citrus to remind me that sunshine still exists even if it is not streaming through my window. The popularity of marmalade at breakfast tells me I am not alone in this feeling.
The top five in my all time best ever marmalades would be home-made ones. That is not to say all home- made marmalade is better than all commercially made marmalade. (My first attempt is a case in point. Can we just say it was a salutary lesson in the value of pith, pips and pectin and leave it at that?) My point is that having a go at making your own could be very rewarding - provided you follow a good recipe to the letter! And 'sworn by' recipes abound and with a vast array of methods, one is bound to work for you.
My mother makes a version which involves cutting the fruit into quarters, taking out the pips and blitzing all the rest with a some  water in a liquidiser  before cooking it. It tastes good and achieves a set you could probably slice.  Spread on thick slices of granary bread and washed down with a mug of tea it is just the thing to set you up for the day, especially when you have your pruning knife in one pocket, the keys to the tool-shed in the other and wellies waiting by the back door.
There are more leisurely days though, when  more elegant little spoonfuls of amber gel are called for. They  will be dolloped onto soft rolls or crisp toast while you plan to spend time in a garden where somebody else wears the wellies and wields the spade, hoe and topiary shears. To prepare for this, I would turn to Nigel Slater. Yes, the recipe takes time and effort so it  is only for you if you are after the buzz of making something delicious from scratch and providing you haven't left it too late to find the Seville oranges in the shops. 
(Word of Friendly Advice: Find a large enough piece of muslin to hold all the pith and pips of all the fruit you use in the initial boiling up!)
Now having made all that delicious marmalade there may come a time when you feel you could do with that citrus lift mid-afternoon and some how, Paddington Bear's predilections not withstanding, marmalade on toast at 3 in the afternoon seems inappropriate. Sparing a couple of spoonfuls of your precious hoard to make some biscuits might be the answer.

Oat and Orange Biscuits

Ingredients

125g butter
3 tablespoons marmalade
1 Teaspoon Bicarbonate of soda
1and 1/2 Tablespoon of boiling water
125g Porage Oats
150g plain flour
90g dessicated coconut
80g demerara sugar

Instructions

1. Preheat the oven to 160 deg C. Lightly grease 2 baking trays.
2. In a large bowl mix together the oats, flour, coconut and sugar.
3. Gently melt the butter until it is liquid then stir in the marmalade. You can do the melting in a small pan on the stove or in a bowl in the micro-wave. Either way don't let it start to bubble or brown.
4. Add the liquid to the dry mixture.
5. Blend the baking soda and boiling water together and then add to the rest.
6. Mix it all together. It will be a fairly dry crumbly mixture and you may need to add tiny amounts of water just until it starts to hold together. Just don't over do it!
7. Take heaped teasponfuls of the mixture and squeeze until it makes a lump. Place this on the baking tray and flatten it down. Continue until all the mix is used, making sure you allow some room for spreading during the cooking.
8. Cook for 15 - 20 minutes. Remove from the oven and use a spatula to ease them from the tray onto a cooling tray. They will be very brittle at this stage so handle carefully.
9. When cool they can be stored in an airtight jar. They keep well. Makes about 30.

Serving Suggestion: Take a small tray and add  a couple of these biscuits along with tea (in your favourite cup) and a well- loved read. Withdraw to somewhere quiet and cosy and wait for spring to shake off the last vestiges of hibernation in the garden. The forsythia is flaunting its wake-me-up yellow. It can't be long now.