Cows

I don't know if this is bizarre or not, but, one of the ways in which Cambridge has not moved on at all since 1463 is that we have cows in the city centre. Lots of cows. Hanging out. Doing their bovine stuff.

We turn our bottoms towards women waving cameras. Vamoose

These cows are near one of the main roads into the centre. There are also cows in the colleges (this is bizarre, isn't it?) and also near the river which runs through the centre, on the fen. The cows on the fen stand on the bridges and face down tourists. They are cows without shame. When people have picnics in the summer, sometimes the cows sidle up and intimidate them and nibble their sandwiches.

I was buying some beef from the farmers' market once, and as I passed it to the woman who was running the stall to pay for it, she said, brightly, this beef comes from the Cambridge Cows! I winced because I do not really like to think where my meat comes from especially if it is a cow who might have faced me down on a bridge, and she looked at me firmly and said, now look. These cows have had a very lovely life.

This is the dilemma, isn't it? The more you don't know where your meat comes from the more likely it is to have come from somewhere absolutely appalling, but then it's difficult to eat a cow who you might have met out and about. I won't do my lecture on How Capitalism Separated Us From The Means Of Production And Destroyed Society (although, what a lecture that is!) but I think if I'm going to eat meat I should eat meat whose origin I know and trust, not pretend it started off in a neutral polythene tray and ignore how it was really produced (I know there's the option of not eating meat at all. Not at the moment. Perhaps later).

Cigarettes and alcohol. Without the cigarettes. With some hawthorn

Do you know what happened to me over the weekend? I discovered I was allergic to alpaca. Anyway, we will briefly acknowledge my pain (group hug) and move on (what the hell am I going to do with the alpaca laceweight? Lucky I kept that Ventolin!). So, today I have been foraging.

Nice weather for foraging and competing with Squirrels

Yes! Inspired by the herbal hedgerow walk, I have been looking for hawthorn berries and rosehips, to make hawthorn tincture and rosehip syrup. I also had some blackberries hanging about, from the veg box and our garden, and thought I would make blackberry vodka with these, because, Nigella and me, we’re very similar, you know, apart from her house might be be the tiniest bit posher (joke).

I'm really almost positive this is hawthorn

Foraging makes me slightly nervous. I’m always worried I might pick something that is actually Deadly Nightshade masquerading as something harmless. Also, I always think someone is going to come and tell me off for fiddling about with trees and I will find myself in front of a magistrate trying to explain myself incoherently (‘OK look. I’m a hedgewitch, right, and I went on this walk, right, and they said if I picked hawthorn it would root me and protect my heart and I’ve been working on opening up my heart chakra recently and I thought…’). I think there’s something deep within me that thinks something is only really permissable food if it’s wrapped in plastic and sold in Waitrose. I think there are a lot of people who think this, because whenever I go into Cambridge there are lots of people in M&S buying fruit for twice the price of the market stalls less than 5m away, indeed, I do it myself when I am being undynamic. When I am being dynamic though, obviously, I go rooting round trees with a bag being intrepid.

Hawthorn tincture, candlestick, blackberry vodka, leftover garlic, plum and apple chutney and a bit of cardboard used to catch a big spider

Anyway, this is how I made the blackberry vodka. I used about 350g blackberries, and half the weight of sugar, and put them both in a big Kilner jar, then covered with a 70cl bottle of vodka. I made the hawthorn tincture just by covering hawthorn berries in brandy, but, I could not submerge all the berries because they float, so I am worried that might cause problems. We will see. I’ve not made the rosehip syrup yet and it sounds scary as it involves straining through muslin (or tights, depending on your level of domestic goddess-ness. I will not be able to palm my rosehip syrup off on people now as they will be thinking worrying thoughts about gussets. I bet Nigella doesn’t go straining syrup through her gusset, do you? Remember though: it’s only slutty if you wear them afterwards without rinsing them first).

I’ve got a book recommendation. In one of my previous posts, Vivianne recommended James Wong’s Grow Your Own Drugs, and I suddenly remembered I had actually got it – I bought it ages ago when it was hugely reduced and then I buried it under a pile of books. Well, I dug it out and it is great, so thanks Vivianne for reminding me, and it is a good book for those of you who may have leanings in this direction. Also, I seem to remember Mumma Troll actually went to one of his talks once and really enjoyed it, so, yes, James Wong. Look, it said in the Guardian today that it’s the end of capitalism, and you’ll need to know this sort of thing soon, you know. So when the post-oil society arrives, you all stick with me. I know how to make soap and knit socks, and Partner says if he put his mind to it he’s convinced he could kill a chicken (not one of yours, though Aunty Kath!).

I need you to be specially nonjudgmental

So I can show you my City Stole blocking without feeling bad about all the crap I had to push to one side to make room on the floor (it’s alright, it’s just the overlocker, wool-in-progress, pins and a random elasticated belt from Top Shop. No-one has to ring Hoarders. You’re not going to see me ever on Discovery Home and Health clutching onto a 10-year-old yoghurt pot while all my family stands round wringing their hands). Otherwise I have to get the laptop out and fire up Gimp and crop and it puts me off.

I had to stand on a chair and balance against the ironing board to get this photo. I straightened the edges a bit afterwards

Anyway, vital stats because EVERYONE SHOULD MAKE A CITY STOLE:

Here is the pattern – you have to pay, but it is definitely worth it, it is a lovely pattern (12 pages of charts and they are very clear. I found about 2 tiny errata, unfortunately I forgot to note them down but they won’t cause you any trouble – there was one missed yarn over when it is obvious there should be one so you would realise, and one of the stitch count numbers was one out but the chart is correct),
I used KnitPicks Gloss Fingering from Great British Yarns because I wanted something cheap, navy blue and in fingering weight (sock yarn weight). Well, it was certainly cheap and navy and is OK yarn, but, that is never sock yarn weight. Sock yarn my arse, as Jim Royle would say. It felt more like DK to me (I did check the label). I went through agonies thinking the stole would not work because of it, but it seems to be blocking alright, and I can always knit another in proper thin sock yarn at a later date,
Mistakes – I made a couple of tiny errors in the chart but tant pis only God is perfect. Also, I think it is going to curl a bit as it is a stocking stitch base, but the blocking should flatten it a bit, and honestly, I don’t mind that much – I think it’s the nature of a stole like this (I can’t see how she could have got this effect apart from on a stocking stitch base, and it does have a garter border).

Bonus Cambridge cat photo, looking pointedly in different directions like an 80s album cover

So there we are – this stole was such an epic that I feel like my life’s work is now done, and I am a little rootless. I will try and get better in-action pics when it is blocked (also of the Annis – I was worried the Annis would spring right back when I took it off the pins but it held its shape completely – it looks great). In the meantime I am making chutney,

I never want to chop up another apple, I really don't

And I am casting on for some new colourwork mittens which I may give to my brother Dan for Christmas, and working up to winding the wool for Jaali. Wish me luck…

Blocked my Annis

This is one of those posts that's more interesting for me than for you, lovely readers, sorry! I blocked my Annis - managed to not felt it, not drop it down the plughole (I'm going to hold off on the rant about how much I hate our new plughole), not drop a stitch as I bound off, etc etc and now it is done! And when it is dry I can wear it!

OK, are you going to say to me that you don't save your oldest towels for blocking?

I do appreciate this would look more attractive with better light. Try to imagine

Ha ha! First proper lace, first nupps {brushes fingers on lapel}. The lace world is now my oyster and I shall celebrate with Cake.

WIP Wednesday: Making Stuff For Paris

Can it be Wednesday? Can I be sitting here with a spare five minutes and photographs? Could I be about to do a WIP Wednesday post?

Mum and I are going to Paris in three weeks (bear with me). We have our train tickets but we have not booked a hotel yet, it may be the George Cinq, it may be the Three Ducks, we will see how flush we are when we get to the point of booking. I have to tell you at this juncture that Partner doubts my and my mother’s joint capacity to economise on accommodation. If I have to hear again his tales about how he went to Paris when he was very poor (he was transcribing a manuscript) and had to stay in the red light district and only eat every other day, I may not be responsible for my actions.

Partner: And I had to stay just off the Rue St Denis! I was propositioned continually! And I could only eat every other day! You tell your mother that!
Me: Did you buy wine every night though?
Partner: Yes!

Anyway, in preparation for the trip, mum has been on an Epic Quest to find the perfect pair of shoes for Paris. They had to be comfortable, coruscatingly directional, and cause Parisiennes to stop dans la rue, throw up their hands and say, mais Madame, comme vous êtes plus chic que votre fille ou est-elle votre soeur. They had to also cost less than £40, preferably from Clinkards. Oh, the tension, you would not believe, every time the phone has rung we have jumped to answer it in case it was The Call. And, last night, the quest came to an end and my mother managed to purchase appropriate shoes UNDER BUDGET in Meadowhall, hooray, that will buy us both a Kir Royale. However, my quest continues. For, I am trying to finish the City Stole, block it, and take it with me.

Repeat after me, it will look better when it's blocked

I am starting to feel the City Stole will never be finished. I feel like the charts expand as I get close to the end. And now I have sat on my needle and broken it and must wait for a new one to arrive from Get Knitted, will it come in time, oh the tension. There is a lot of knitting in this thing and I think it may have been a little ambitious trying to do it on a deadline, but, apart from that, I absolutely love the pattern. I think it is one of my favourite things to have knitted ever, and I recommend it without hesitation to anyone wanting to start lace, because, it is very easy to read your knitting and correct things if they go wrong. I actually feel, serious face, that I have learned and improved as a knitter while knitting this, and it has made me very happy. Anyway it is on hold at the moment until my needle arrives so I will update you with progress and hopefully action shots of it on me in Paris.

Repeat after me, this one will definitely look better when it's blocked

While I wait, I have almost finished my Annis. Well, the laceweight was a bit of a learning curve, but once I had accepted I had got to use 5 million stitch markers, it was straightforward and it is now nearly finished. The nupps were fine, you just have to have a reasonably pointy needle and do your yarnovers quite loose. I am excited to block it and see what it looks like then.

It seems all wrong to me that you can get a luxury lace shawl for under £10 which is less than a not-luxury takeaway. I do not complain though

And the moment you’ve been waiting for, did Susie get beige in her Posh Yarn order, is she going to have to swap it/ dye it/ cry. No! I got a lovely dove grey semisolid with (subtle) purple bits and a very pretty blue, it does mean I’m going to have a bit of a blue theme going, but, I’m kind of into blue at the moment so I’m happy. I actually really like how this yarn feels and I’m looking forward to knitting it, but I am leaving it be for the moment until I have finished my City Stole.

Right, {cracks knuckles}. Off to cast off Annis. Off to fill my Victoria Sponge first, though (that isn’t a euphemism). You need lots of sugar when laceweight is involved. That’s what all the books say. Honestly. However, for lots of other works in progress, most of which are depressingly better than mine (I mean, I do try to be generous-spirited, but…), go and have a look at Tami’s blog. Thanks, Tami!

Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa

Forgive me, Father/ Universe/ Insert Patriarchal Punishing Deity of Your Choice Here, for I have sinned.

You know I am on a budget. You know I am trying not to buy anything at all.

You know I am especially trying not to buy wool online given that we have the very lively postman who squashes my packages and shouts up our stairs ‘are you buying wool again? You’ve got enough wool!’ even though this opinion is based on the fact that I bought all that Stylecraft Special DK, and not only was it very, very cheap, but I have crocheted it all up into a blanket. And that sack of Ethical Twist from Kemps honestly cost practically nothing, and besides, you in your All Seeing-ness know that I split it with Mum.

You know, Father, that it is of no use my explaining that to the postman. Indeed, I think you and I might agree that it would make things worse.

Not only am I trying not to buy wool online, Father, but you who are omniscient know how I feel about certain aspects of knitting culture. I mean, I get that the first use of omniscience isn’t necessarily to be monitoring my thoughts on acrylic, but I believe there might have been something somewhere about every hair being numbered. You know I am a miserably utlilitarian Product Knitter. You know how I like things that are Rugged and Useful. You know my idea of hell is going on a ridiculous internet quest to get the type of wool which is so popular you can only get it by selling your soul to the chap we don’t talk about (sorry he got such a good write up in Paradise Lost, by the way. It seems Evil is just that tiny bit more glamorous. Who knew?).

And yet, Father, given all these variables which would in normal circumstances have led to my next yarn purchase being a small ball of cheap craft cotton for a single dishcloth some time in 2015, I find myself waiting for the arrival of two skeins of laceweight yarn purchased from the Posh Yarn Orphaned Skeins sale yesterday at 7pm.

I do not think, Father, that the fact that I only procured these skeins by having the internet-shopping skills of a seasoned pro, and a paypal trigger finger which would have devastated the Wild West, tips my moral balance. Nor do I think that, although I believe you might want to encourage people generally to have Hope, my apparent expectation of being able to produce, block, and wear successfully not one laceweight shawl, but two, is in any way admirable. Father, I think it is misguided. In fact, Father, I blame the hawthorn tincture and I feel this should be a lesson to others about Temperance.

I know you are annoyed with me, Father, for I sat on a knitting needle earlier and I snapped it in half and must now buy another. I know that was a Sign. Therefore I will do penance. I will not complain about things. I will clean the house and not just move things about. I will make offerings on ebay, bids starting at 99p, non smoking home and will combine postage.

And in return, Father, given that these are orphaned bargain skeins and therefore I could not choose the colour, please influence the nice lady at Posh Yarn, work on her inner being, and try to make sure she does not send me beige.

Yours in sad self-awareness,

Susie (look, I don't know how to end prayers. I'm a pagan. I'll go and light a candle and try and access the inner realms or something).

Season of mists, mellow fruitfulness, and me on a Herbalism Walk

I am contemplating a Giant Autumn Chutney Production Session. My last Giant Autumn Chutney Production Session was the year before last and took a week. It only ended when the smell of vinegar finally broke Partner and he begged me to stop (big wussy). I ended up with a mountain of chutney and gave it to people for Christmas, I thought we would be eating chutney until 2015, but actually it was quite delicious, so the jars we kept got eaten very quickly. Also it is quite cheap to do if your mother has been saving jam jars for you (as has mine) and if you get all your plums/ apples either from the market or from people with trees. Hmm. I feel a preserving session coming on, off to dig out my recipes. (In case you feel one coming on too, FYI you don’t need a brain to make chutney, it isn’t like marmalade where you have to test for a setting point, so you can put it on and wander off). In the meantime, and on the subject of Using Autumn Plants, this morning I dragged myself out of bed and went on a hedgerow herbalism walk with Of People And Plants in Milton Country Park.

Making good use of the things that we find (elderberries), things that the everyday folks leave behind, la la wombling free

And do you know, I had a really good time. Latterly I have become better at dealing with the whole plant issue, i.e. I can recognise some of them (well, you know, I can tell a daffodil from a cactus) and I am starting to have some kind of a vague awareness of seasonality, but my knowledge is tiny and I am always happy to expand it. So this was a walk where we had a bit of a nose round Milton Country Park to see what was around and what its properties might be.

We found burdock (I didn’t even think burdock was a real plant!), comfrey, hawthorn, birch, elderberries, rosehips, and something else I have forgotten the name of which I was not to eat despite it looking rather attractive. Vanessa and Jude who were running the walk had brought tinctures and syrups and teas, made up from plants they had picked, for us to try. I stood sniffing my hawthorn tincture thoughtfully until she told us it would re-balance our emotions and protect our hearts, and readers, last week was a bit of a week, so I snarfed it straight down. I cannot tell you if it has helped, because there was a lot of brandy in it, and that certainly did. So much so that I had to refuse further tinctures as I cannot drink in the morning due to being a big girl’s blouse and a lightweight. I did, however, have some elderberry syrup,

It even looks good for you, doesn't it?

And it was really delicious. Unfortunately I think elderberries are on their way out now, but I took home with me a recipe for how to make it and next year I will be ready to pounce. What an amazing tree the elderflower is, isn’t it? Elderflower cordial, elderflower champagne, elderflower fritters, and now elderberry cordial. Apparently it is excellent for colds and as a general winter tonic, as is rosehip syrup.

Making tinctures seems to be very easy: you cover your plant with brandy, leave it for ages, and shake it occasionally, just like sloe gin. Another walk-goer and I were talking about sloe gin, and she told me about a place in Cambridge called Wandlebury which has lots of whatever tree it is that sloes grow on, so I am going to go and have a look. I am encouraged that I could remember the name Wandlebury because this was post-tincture.

This is a willow, which is apparently the best kind of tree to hug if you are feeling a bit depressed. Or - have a tincture!

Anyway, if you are around in Cambridge there is another walk sometime in the winter and they are really interesting so it’s worth going. I am going to have a look now into making tinctures and syrups and things because I like the idea of having a cupboard filled with scary-looking bottles and whipping them out whenever a pick-me-up is needed, while my loved ones cry, no! Please let me just have an aspirin!

On a different subject altogether, dangerously buoyed by my ability to a/ attend regular yoga classes and be able to execute down dog without falling on my nose b/ fit into my thin jeans again HA!, I thought I might have a go at an exercise class (bonus knitting reference around 3.35). In fact I thought I might give Zumba a try tomorrow. I’m really unco-ordinated and I don’t do lycra. This is either a brave new move or me setting myself up for the worst evening of my life so if you think it isn’t a good idea, please could you stop me in time!

(Since I linked a Victoria Wood scene, obligatory Let's Do It! link. Do you know what I thought while I was listening? I thought, I wish I had a vinyl flooring catalogue. Seriously, I did. I need a few more tinctures, I do).