A combination of a due date drawing closer and a desire for a bit of quick knitting led me to take a break from my more slow-burn project this weekend for a pair of baby hats. An added bonus was the chance to enjoy the work of two of my lovely knitting friends.

First up was Cookie Jar by Joeli’s Kitchen. I first came across Joeli when I was looking for a Tech Editor for Coniston- little did she know as she guided me through the process of putting a pattern together properly that she was only just beginning. Next thing I knew I’d started getting designs accepted in Knit Now and Joeli was knocking more of my patterns into shape and in the process teaching me so much about pattern writing.

Like me, Joeli juggles her paid work with bringing up two little ones of a similar age to mine, so she knows what she’s doing when she comes up with her gorgeous designs for children. Cookie Jar is easy to follow, comes in a range of sizes from baby to adult and uses simple stitches to great textural effect.

I used the rest of the rainbow yarn I had left over from the Milo I wrote about a few weeks ago. As a heavy DK, the yarn is a little bit lighter than the pattern recommends, so I used the toddler stitch count on 4.5mm needles for a baby size. What I didn’t do was work out how much yarn I had left. As a result, when I got to the second moss stitch band the end of the yarn came whipping out of my handbag (most of the knitting for this was completed on the journey to and from a great family meal out at The Highwayman near Kirby Lonsdale. I can recommend the cauliflower fritters with spicy mayo and the Morecambe Bay shrimp). A quick fudge was in order. Since the design is quite slouchy and I was following the toddler hat directions, I judged that I’d have enough height for more of a beanie style if I frogged, then omitted, the last texture band and started the decreases. With just a few yards to spare I had it completed- a very satisfying and quick project. I’ve mentioned the yarn, by Moonlight Yarns before, but at the risk of repeating myself, although I don’t really like multi-coloured yarns as a rule, there’s something utterly joyful about this one. The colours are so vibrant and the length of each colour repeat is long enough that you get a lovely stripe effect rather than pooling. My project page on Ravelry is here.

With one of my baby knits now a set, I needed something to go with my BSJ- so this time I was working with the yarn of another friend, Victoria at Eden Cottage. A quick Ravelry search turned up Logan by Julie Taylor- a devastatingly cute little pixie bonnet. Again, it’s a clear and well-written pattern with sizes up to a young child’s head size. Instructions are given for knitting flat and in the round, with clear photos guiding beginners through any tricky bits and techniques.

I liked the striped version of the original pattern, but thought that regular stripes in stocking stitch wouldn’t be quite the right match for the irregular, garter stitch stripes of the jacket. I therefore had a try at making it in reverse stocking stitch, keeping the stripes as they were. Not only did this not work well, it also made me realise that I probably didn’t have enough of the grey to make it through all the stripes.

At least with baby items it’s not too heart-breaking to frog and start again. I ended up just making the garter stitch border in the grey, then keeping to the green for the main part. I think it really emphasises the pixi-ness of the hat but I’m aware that this isn’t the sort of design that photographs well without a head to model it. A certain baby needs to hurry up, methinks!

This BFL really loves to be blocked- the yarn plumps and smooths itself out so beautifully. I particularly like the way the lines of double decreases that help to shape the hat look. I rather like it when a piece shows something of its structure as a design feature. Ravelry project page is here.

When you design your own patterns it can be hard to find the time to make other people’s, but making these baby knits has reminded me of just how valuable and enjoyable it is to try out other people’s designs. I’m going to try and make the effort to do it more often.

My cousin posted this as his Facebook status this morning. My cousin, who was climbing pretty much before he could walk and has spent as much of his life as possible outdoors doing bold, crazy action man stuff. He lives in Australia now, working as a tree surgeon (e.g. climbing for a living) and surfing. When someone asked him what his answer to this question would be, he answered ‘I’m doing it’.

Oh, would that I was that brave! Because obviously, seeing that question, I had to admit to myself once again that it’s really being afraid that keeps me in my regular pay cheque work. It’s not that I don’t love teaching. I am passionate about education. It’s a privilege and a thrill and an inspiration to have such an important role in a young person’s development, even if it’s only for one year out of their young lives. It’s what keeps me going when the marking piles up and Education Ministers seem hell bent on destroying all that is good in our schools in pursuit of their misty-eyed, wrong-headed nostalgic vision of what ‘proper teaching’ should be.

However. If I were to win the lottery or, heaven forfend, find that I had some life-shortening illness, I don’t think I’d be a teacher anymore. The satisfaction I get from designing (the pic shows the first finished sample for an outrageously exciting project I’m working on at the moment) outstrips all but the very best days of teaching and if I could find a way, I would do it all day and every day. The only reason I don’t is- I’m afraid. I’m afraid that the amount of money I could realistically make would not be enough of a contribution to our family income. It’s not that we live a lavish lifestyle, but these days even a modest lifestyle takes some considerable funding. Unlike my cousin, who is as yet unencumbered by a spouse and children, decisions I make have a direct effect- financially and otherwise- on others. I worry- what if I don’t have enough of a pension when I’m old? What if we can’t pay the mortgage? What if the children want to go to Uni?

On the other hand…what about the value of having a mother who was working outside of the home less (I am part time, but still have to use childcare facilities for several days a week) for my children? The value of having a mother (or a wife, in my husband’s case) who was creatively fulfilled? Who didn’t have to banish everyone from her presence for large chunks of her so-called ‘free time’ so that she could mark and plan and ponder over results?

Thinking about it, maybe the reason my cousin can be so unafraid of living as he does is because the other option- working the 9-5, sitting at a desk- would be even more scary, like being a bird in a cage.  And maybe one day, if I get a few pattern successes under my belt, learn a little more about what makes money and what doesn’t in this world I’m learning the ropes of, maybe then I’ll stop being afraid of those other ‘What if…’s and be more afraid of ‘What if I never get to enjoy getting all these ideas out of my head and into the world?‘

What would you do if you weren’t afraid?

Making an Elizabeth Zimmerman knit feels like something of a rite of passage. Since sources including Ravelry alerted me to the existence of ‘EZ’s’ seminal works on knitting I’d got as far as reading Knitting Without Tears and, like so many before me, warmed to a book about the technicalities of knitting which also makes you smile with its humour. I’d also tried out a few of her techniques, like making a fold-up hem for the bottom of a garment, which features in my Coniston sweater design. Somehow none of the actual, classic EZ designs ever made it to the top of my ‘to knit’ list.

Then I found out I was to be an aunt for the first time and the question of what to ‘not knit’ for the baby arose. I say ‘not knit’ because, while I’m not superstitious in general, I am deeply uncomfortable with the counting-chickens-before-they-hatch nature of knitting for babies yet to arrive. To balance this with the desire to have something ready to give as a present to the newborn I have to knit things but claim I am ‘not knitting for such and such a baby…it’s just a baby thing that could happen to be ready for when that baby arrives’. Silly, I know, but that’s just the way my brain works. My first piece of not-knitting was the Rainbow Milo I blogged about a couple of weeks back. I decided that to add to that I would make my first EZ- a BSJ.

A BSJ, for the unitiated, is a Baby Surprise Jacket. It’s a modular jacket- that is to say, it’s knitted in one piece then formed into a garment with the addition of two seams- in garter stitch. It’s described as “a very entertaining bit of knitted engineering” and given that the pattern has been around for over forty years and that there are over nineteen and a half thousand projects on Ravelry alone you have to conclude it’s worth making one at least once in your knitting lifetime.

Having seen a number of striped versions of the project, I decided I wanted to make mine in two colours. British, or better still, local yarn is always a preference for me and as one of my favourites, Eden Cottage Bowland DK is not only from sheep in the next county over from us but is also parent-friendly superwash it seemed like a good choice. The fact that Victoria at Eden Cottage is lovely and creates colourways that I adore helped too! I’d already bought and loved the Lichen colourway in some sock yarn and thought it would look amazing paired with Slate. Kind of a Mid-Century Modern feel- still bright enough for a baby knit, but a bit of a change from the usual pastels.

Armed with my lovely yarn and a copy of the pattern, I was ready to go. Having mentioned on Twitter that this was what I was attempting, I received a number of responses along the lines of ‘It will look really weird, but don’t worry, it works’. Admittedly, the hand-drawn illustration of what the completed, unseamed item would look like did look odd- rather like one of those ribbony, frilly edged bits of seaweed. Even so, I was confident I could handle it- how weird could it be?

Really weird, as it turns out. As someone used to working from- and writing- modern knitting patterns, where everything is set out row by row and new stitch counts are given every time there are increases or decreases, this was a departure. EZ is much more ‘do this for a bit, then do that’ and although it’s all accurate and works if you follow it, it feels a lot more like you’re freestyling. However, I was all ‘yeah, I can handle this, I’m not fazed’ and soon got into the swing of it- hah! As the lady herself suggests, I kept calm and knitted on with [sort of] confidence and [quite a lot of] hope, but the further I got the more I felt that this was less BSJ and more WTF? The thing is with this design is that you don’t know until you’ve done all the knitting, cast off and done the folding thing whether you’ve got it right or not. While you’re knitting you really can’t tell if you’ve messed up or not- it’s not for the control freaks among us. The pay-off for this nerve-shredding is at the end, when you do the folding thing and ‘AH!’ there is the sweetest, neatest little jacket.

Even the sweetest, neatest piece of knitted engineering will always benefit from good finishing- at the very least blocking, but I decided this merited extra TLC. I’ve been a fan of applied i-cord since making Kate Davies’ Manu cardigan. It’s a bit fiddly and yarn hungry but it gives such a smart finish, especially to the slightly raw looking selvedges you get on a garter stitch project like the BSJ. The Purl Bee has a really good tutorial for applied i-cord here, which I consult every time I forget between projects how to do it- which is, literally, every time.  I added it around all the edges, including the wrists, and included loops for the buttons I blogged about here.

With this classic amongst my projects I think I can consider myself initiated into the extensive ranks of EZ knitters. Now I just have to wait for a baby that, you know, might just happen to arrive and seem worthy of a hand-knit or two…

I’m currently nurturing a burgeoning addiction to buttons. It’s not like it’s bad for my health, unless I try to eat them (although some of the pretty, coloured, shiny ones do can look temptingly edible) and it’s not going to break the bank unless I go completely crackers. So whether it’s picking up additions like the ones shown above to my vintage/re-used collection at local fairs organised by Vintage Village Hall …

…Or trawling the vast online treasure-trove and enjoying the unbeatable customer service of Textile Garden, I’ve definitely got a regular habit.

Some of my buttons are acquired for projects-yet-to-be-specified. Others, like the silver and bronze Textile Garden lovelies above, are for a particular use. However, recently I found myself stuck for inspiration about which buttons to use for certain rather important jacket I was finishing. Then I remembered the tutorial for Wheelhouse Button’s in Kate Davies’ fabulous Colours of Shetland book:

I’ve yet to have time to attempt any of the designs in the book (and let’s face it, I’ve yet to be able to decide which should be first as I basically want to knit ALL THE PRETTY THINGS in it) but being no stranger to Kate’s meticulously well written patterns, I had no qualms about trying out this method for covering plain buttons in yarn. Since this jacket is for a small person I used buttons roughly half the size of those used in the book, but the instructions were clear about how to adapt for this and with the minimum of fiddling about and really not much time I had a cover for a button. Even the inside looked lovely, if you’ll excuse the dodgy phone pic:

I just love those swirling rings of yarn- they reflect the gentle rhythm you get into as you weave the yarn round and round to make the covers. It’s very soothing and as the lady herself says here, in her blog about the Scatness Tunic she designed them for, slightly addictive. There’s just something about buttons…

Anyway, I satisfied myself with just making three. I’m hoping that their size will be about right- not too big as to dwarf the small wearer of the jacket, but big enough that they won’t be in danger of being swallowed. Being covered in yarn they are also, on that last count, easier to sew on really tightly than conventional buttons and are also softer for delicate skin. Plus they’re matching, yarn covered buttons. What could be better, really?

In case you’re wondering, the yarn you can see here for the jacket and buttons is the yummy Bowland DK from Eden Cottage Yarns. I will write more about it and the finishing of the jacket soon.

This is a a story of indulging in (almost) instant knitting gratification. I’m hard at work at the moment on an exciting project, using gorgeous yarns, that I can’t share anything about just yet. Since it involves a garment (gasp! Not an accessory!) there’s obviously quite a lot of knitting without seeing finished results. In addition I’ve been learning about, and experimenting with, short row shaping. My starting point was this free Craftsy course from Carol Feller and although I’ve decided it’s not the thing for the design I’m working on, I’ve definitely learned (and frogged, but in a productive kind of way) a lot. Pleasing though all this is, last week I felt an urge for a quick, fun and colourful knit.

Ah, the joys and financial dangers of the internet! After a quick twitter conversation with fellow yarny types regarding where I could find hand-dyed, preferably British, superwash wool I ended up ordering (among other things) this fantastically rainbow coloured merino DK from Moonlight Yarns. I’m pretty sure I ordered at some point in the afternoon so you can imagine my surprise and delight when it turned up in the post the very next day.

A quick whizz with the yarn swift then- I’ll never regret the day I bought that- and onto the needles for a Milo. If you knit for babies, especially for parents of a slightly hippy persuasion, then this is definitely one to have in your library. Written by Georgie Hallam of Tikki Knits, who has some great kids designs, it’s really well put together- easy to follow, neat and works just as it should, in a range of sizes. It’s so useful for popping over simple babygros, giving an extra layer of warmth round little tummies but leaving the arms free. An easy, quick knit, it also makes for a bit of a change from the normal choices of gift knits for babies.

The pattern gives a number of options for the cable decoration running down the front. At one point I considered leaving the detail out altogether, given the frequent colour changes in the yarn. However, in the end I went for the horseshoe cables and actually I rather like the way they look in rainbow stripes.

I don’t actually use multi-colour or self-striping yarns very often, but when I do I enjoy watching new colours pass through my fingers every few rows or stitches and then seeing how they work together. In this case, the effect on the mitred neckline where colours clashed together in the garter stitch rows was quite psychedelic. Then under the arms I ended up with colour pooling that formed diagonal rainbow stripes running all the way round…

…Finally, on the body of the sweater there was the serendipity of stitch count and colour runs leading to near-perfect rainbow stripes, so that stitches that were red on one row met orange yarn for the next row, then yellow the next etc., right through to the gloriously intense violet. Having ever-so-slightly OCD tendencies this made me VERY HAPPY.

The whole thing was done and dusted in an afternoon and evening- only just over 24 hours from ordering the yarn to blocking the finished result. At some point I’ll use the last of the skein to make a matching hat I think, but for now it’s back to work

There’s an invisible element of love worked into handmade items created for family or friends. Perhaps you can only really understand that if you’ve ever made such an item. All the thoughts and hopes you have in the hours you spend on it, the devotion and patience you put in when the pattern gets dull or something has to be ripped out and reworked, I’m convinced it somehow works its way into the fibres. Maybe that’s what makes certain handmade items- like the blanket in the picture above- last so long;  used, loved and handed on.

The ‘season’ section of the children’s magnetic calendar says ‘Spring’. I write this with sunshine streaming through the window. However, as anyone who ventured outside during the Easter weekend will know, Spring really hasn’t sprung very enthusiastically yet. Undaunted, we nevertheless managed a family weekend of Easter fun. This included a Friday morning walk up Orrest Head above Windermere- a little longer than anticipated for those with littler legs and the iciest wind you can imagine when we got to the top, but the residual patches of snow were thoroughly enjoyed by certain members of the party and the views were spectacular.

With that chilly air still fresh in our minds, if not on our faces, I spent much of the weekend preparing ways to keep warm, as well as the all-important food, for the Easter Egg hunt we had planned on the Monday. The venue was a beautiful little patch of woodland recently bought by a friend’s mum about half an hour’s drive from us and the plan was to meet for egg hunting, food and a fire for as long as we could take the weather.

While our boy runs hot, my little girl takes after me and really feels the cold. I had layered her up with as many clothes as possible without her losing the ability to bend her limbs, but she nevertheless punctuated her forays around the woods looking for eggs, waving bubble wands, throwing dry leaves about and shouting with spells spent by the fire, wrapped in the Grandma blanket. This had been thrown into the car as an automatic reaction, just as it has been for picnics, beach and camping trips so many times before. Not just with the current configuration of the family either, because the ‘Grandma’ who made this simple, stash busting crochet blanket forty, maybe fifty or more years ago wasn’t my children’s Grandma, or even mine, but my mother’s. So technically M should call it the ‘Great-Great-Grandma Blanket’. I know how much love and thought and hope for endurance goes into making items like this, but nevertheless it’s hard to imagine Great Grandma saw her blanket still being in more or less daily use all this time later.

Yes, the wind blew cold and M wasn’t the only one seeking the comfort of the fire and the blanket. But we hunted eggs and we feasted- on barbecued sausages, homemade flatbreads, irresistable Cambodian Wedding Day dip (from River Cottage Veg Everyday), grilled courguettes in minted Greek yogurt, maple syrup popcorn (based on this recipe from Soulemama), Simnel Cake and toasted marshmallows. As we drove home, deliciously tired and scented with woodsmoke, the views included the snow-capped splendour of the Lake District peaks touched by decidedly Spring-like sunshine.

Mums are brilliant. You don’t need me to tell you that, but I offer this post today as proof of just how super-brilliant my mum is. I should say as a background that my own crafting ways owe a lot to the ready availability of scrap material, threads and a sewing machine at home, not to mention the example of Mum making clothes and soft furnishing for us as we grew up. Add to that the knitting expertise of my Grandma, who patiently taught my best friend and I to knit when we were about seven, and you see how I ended up where I am today. Both of these fabulous women continue to create for the family today- Grandma keeps my daughter in hats and cardigans (when knitting designer mummy is too busy with commissions) while my Mum’s remit takes in curtains, party dresses, the skirt of my wedding dress, several beautiful patchwork quilts, school bags- you name it really. She’s also a dab hand at remaking clothes, as I discovered to my delight this week.

I found this skirt languishing in the bargain box at a vintage fair in Morecambe several months ago. I think it was about a fiver, hence I took a punt on it despite the fact I knew it was going to take a bit of adjusting work. The labels will tell you why- it’s pure wool and it’s Jaegar. In its original form it had a slightly A-line shape, falling to just below the knee. The front and back waistline came down in a v-shape at the front and back and fastened at the side with a set-in zip and button. Big patch pockets were set over the seams on either side. A little bit classic, even school-uniformy, I could see it being a really useful garment. With the label reading size 12, so in theory it should only have needed the hem taking up to a more flattering length.

In theory. The thing is, a size 12 back whenever this skirt was made (I’m not sure of the era to be honest) meant a 26″ waist. 26 “!! I think only surgery could get my waist down to that size these days, but wearability was tantalisingly close. I couldn’t do the button up, but the zip was fine over my hips. I did the only thing I could think of- tossed the skirt into my workbasket and waited until Mum came to stay.

Thankfully, she didn’t tell me I was daft to buy something that didn’t fit. She could see how the quality of the fabric had attracted me, later commenting on how the close weave of the wool made it great to work with. She also noticed that it must have been much loved and altered before- someone had even spent the time oversewing the hem edge by hand where we’d spend 5 minutes machining zig-zag stitch these days.

Before I knew it, Mum had unpicked the waistband across the back. By losing the gathers around the back v-shape, she freed up more width at the top. Knowing that I wanted to shorten it anyway, she lopped a good few inches from the hem and used the extra fabric to make extending sections for the waistband. The v-shaped waistband section from the back was returned to where it came from, then the new sections joined the gap between this and the front waistband. This meant the button and zip could stay in place and the only difference is that the pockets and side seams are slightly further towards the front than they would have been.

With the hem measured and finished at my ideal not-quite-mini length (enough room to run around but not so short that you fear bending over) I’m now the proud owner/wearer of a remade, vintage, pure wool Jaegar skirt. I will get some proper pics of me wearing it at some point, but believe me, I am totally in love with it- classic colour and fabric, shortish, A-line and comfortable. Thanks Mum!

You win some, you lose some. The cherubic (and dare I say photogenic) boy you see wearing my ‘Coniston’ sweater in the pic at the top of this page is my son. How fortunate, you might think, to be a knitting designer blessed with a ready-made model. Think again. This child has been known to choose shorts and (reluctantly) a t-shirt as his attire even in the depths of winter. He runs hot. In addition, if he thinks it’s a handknit, especially a mummy-made handknit, he won’t touch it with a barge pole. Coniston was designed especially for him, in non-itchy recycled yarn, with a hood because he likes them and a wide neck for his large noggin. Other than the day I bribed him with chocolate to take this photo, he’s worn it maybe half a dozen times if I’m lucky, and even then under extreme protest.

Even my boy with his penguin-like abilities to withstand cold sometimes gets cold hands, however, and it was making me feel bad as a mother, let alone a knitting mother, that he didn’t have a decent pair of mittens. Not so bad that I would spend my time making something he wouldn’t wear though, so a design conference was called. I can’t really recall who came up with what aspect of the design, but we decided that if I could make something that was easy to get on, like a mitten, but had a bit more finger-moving ability, like the ‘lobster claw’ gloves he’s seen his Daddy wear for bike riding, he might just wear them. Furthermore, if they made his hands look like monster claws, then the chances of him wearing them went up even more. This is how the ‘Dragon’ part of the ‘St George & The Dragon‘ set was born.

Image copyright Practical Publishing

When I decided to see whether Knit Now might be interested in our idea, it was a natural step to come up with a hat to go with the gloves. Knowing that my boy’s tastes usually run to the simple, rather than the ‘full on dragon’s head’ complicated, I thought that a beanie replicating a knight’s helmet was the way to go. With a simple cross of reverse stocking stitch on stocking stitch, it’s easy enough for even a beginner.

Image copyright Practical Publishing

The design appears in Knit Now’s Best of British issue, which I’m delighted about. I’ve become more and more drawn to using British-produced yarns in recent years, for  reasons including environmental considerations, a desire to support this ancient industry that’s part of our heritage and, selfishly, the sense of integrity and linking to the past that I feel when I’m using them. For this project I got to try out Woolyknit Aran. Woolyknit yarns were a new one on me but I suspect this won’t the be the last time I use them. The quality of colour and soft, springy feel were lovely to work with and the finished items blocked to a quality-looking finish. Furthermore, they aren’t bank-breakingly expensive, a factor that can lead some people away from buying British or buying wool.

So, the question is, will my reluctant little model wear them? Hmmm…the jury is still out. The gloves have had a few outings, but since they knit up so quickly in the aran, I don’t mind too much if they end up being passed down without much wear to his little sister. Now, there’s a much more willing knitwear model (she is particularly attached to a textured beanie made by her great-grandmother)- if I could only get her to stay still for pictures….

Ever get that feeling that you can’t think about stuff for needing to get on and do it? It must be a more common malaise these days, as with the wonders of modern life we are very rarely unplugged from the world and in addition are likely to be juggling myriad roles, all requiring a different mindset. That’s certainly true for me, addicted as I am at times to my smartphone, tablet and laptop, and juggling an increasingly revived career in primary school teaching with motherhood and designing. I  tell myself I need to take time to stop and think, but in reality I take knitting projects with me for the car journey if we go on a country walk, take photos for Facebook at the summit of the hill we walk up, read educational theory books in the bath, put a pile of marking on the passenger seat to do while I wait for my son to come out of school….It might keep my productivity levels where I want them, but it was in danger of leaving me running on empty when it came to creativity.

It might just be me trying to put a good spin on the horrible coldy/fluey lurgy that’s hit our household in the past week or so, but along with the aches, sneezes and coughs has come some really productive time to think- when I was trapped under sleeping, poorly children, when I took over the job of taking the boy to his swimming lesson when my DH got sick and finally, when the bug got to me and I was so rotten with it I could barely knit (the horror!)

At the start of all this thinking time I realised that with the pace I was hurtling along at, I’d lost a bit of focus on what I wanted to be designing- and for whom. I ended up making a whole load of lists- of designs that had done well, of designs I enjoyed producing, of elements I enjoyed working with, of the sort of items I most like designing. I ended up with a sort of master list of what I should probably try to make my designs about- examples from the list include stranded colourwork, textured stitches, British wool, vintage influence, headwear and nothing finer than 4ply, amongst other things!

The most recent issue of Knit Now is a good example of where, even without the list, sticking to what I like best served me well. I had three designs included:

Image copyright Practical Publishing

Bloomsbury e-reader and glasses cosies. It felt like such luxury to be working with seven different colours in a design, but using mini-skeins from Knitting Goddess kept it really affordable- I was so pleased with the rhythm and energy I think is created by the 30s inspired geometric design and different juxtapositions of colour. Stranded colourwork, indpendent dyers- both on my list!

Image copyright Practical Publishing

Pemberley beret and handwarmer- this one was all about finding stitch textures that showed of the amazing lustre and deep colour of the Fyberspates Scrumptious DK. Relatively simple lace motifs mixed with stocking and garter stitch allows light to catch on the silkiness of the yarn from different angles, which reminds me of traditionally luxurious fabrics like brocade and velvet- perfect for a design inspired by country houses. Textured stitches- tick!

Image copyright Practical Publishing

Mitford Scarflette. Here the stitch was really the star again. It allowed a fairly small amount of yarn- Lanas Stop Alpaca- to be turned into a pretty, textured and cosy scarf. The design also uses a keyhole to fasten – not shown in the picture- which means it can be styled with a definite vintage vibe.

As to future designs, enforced sofa time meant I also got down to some swatching (my poorly head could just about take a square’s worth of knitting). I had a lovely time trying some cabling with the lovely Artesano British Wool I’ve had waiting around in my stash for ages. A few false starts led to a satisfying result in colourwork using two shades of Rowan Felted Tweed. Enough with the thinking now- bring on the doing!

There are so many sensible things you could do if you find yourself with a bit of a windfall, thanks to pattern sales of a certain design being lots more than expected. Taking your husband for a pre-Valentine’s, no kids trip to Edinburgh is not necessarily the most sensible, but I’m so glad that was what I chose. We had a precious couple of days of everything from brilliant winter sunshine to snow, eating delicious food uninterrupted and at a leisurely pace, wandering around galleries (including the brilliant Wilhelmina Barns-Graham exhibition at the City Art Centre) and knitting. Of course knitting.

Although it doesn’t really look like it in the picture, this is in fact Woolly Wormhead’s Runway hat from Knit Now Issue 14. I actually started it before Christmas using some stashed Manos del Uraguay Fino, and it was making slow but pretty progress when it got shelved in favour of other things. A snow-laced train journey North and an afternoon lounging in front of ‘Man vs Food’ (I know! But it is weirdly addictive) and I had a hat. I’m a known fan of strong colours, but having somehow packed a wardrobe of monochrome clothes I loved this bright accessory even more, providing as it did a zinging counterpoint to the February grey.