Fiber to France to Finished Object

At the end of 2011, I had set up a Self-Imposed spinning club for myself to help me work through the fiber stash and also actually use the spindles I've collected over the years. At the time I didn't know I'd be paring down my belongings to one duffel bag and a backpack for the latter half of 2012. Whoops. Still worked through a lot of stash, I gotta day! Originally I had intended to spin this green Tunis from Gnomespun with this particular spindle, A Forrester.



The Forrester didn't fit in the whisky bottle cardboard holder tube thingy that is my spindle case, so it was a no-go. Instead I spun it on my kick spindle, with great joy.



Tunis, being a downs wool, is great for socks because it's hard wearing and doesn't felt easily. It also poofs up like WHOA when you put it in a bath.



I should have taken a photo of this skein next to another of the same weight. Easily twice the volume. So squishy. It was about 300 yds, and beefier than I had originally thought, but still doable for socks, albeit with fewer stitches around (ended up being 48).

I like to save my plain stockinette socks for travel, and I knit these ones almost entirely on a totally crazy day trip with my brother to Pont-a-Mousson, France, where my grandfather was wounded in 1944. He had, ill-advisedly, stuck his hand out of a foxhole to get a photo of where he was trying to get, which was to the top of the hill across the Moselle river from where he was positioned. He never made it up there. He traveled back to France sometime in the 1970s with his vet buddies to see what the place looked like then, and he got another photo. He gave copies of these to my brother so we could find the place ourselves.

The very definition of a wild goose chase ensued. The train travel was bizarre and involved 9 trains in one day and layovers in Luxembourg. It was so incredibly foggy it was hard to see more than maybe 50-100 ft ahead of you. Most of the businesses in the town were inexplicably closed that day. But we found the hill. It's barely visible in this photo, behind this cemetery (which itself received much damage in the battle).



We will show him all the misty, ghostly photos I took in the town when we visit him on Christmas. I think he will be very touched that we paid him the tribute of finding this place. He will no doubt regale us with more stories of what happened to him and his fellow soliders here as he loves to do. What else can I say, he's my Grandpa and I'd do just about anything to make him feel as loved as he's made me feel in my life.

The socks, though. These ones are for me. He's got giganto feet and there wouldn't have been enough yardage!

The Neverending Story

I bought some cotton at Michaels mumbledy years ago with the thought of making my mom a set of dishcloths as a gift.



I brought this yarn with me to Germany because I knew at some point with such reduced stash, I'd knit it. Fruit cloths!



I hope you can tell that's a pineapple. I made a whole bunch!



(The two red ones were actually knit by my friend who visited and neglected to bring her own knitting.) If you haven't knit dishcloths, let me tell you, cute patterned ones like this are so fun. Faster than just about anything, and as the pattern emerges, it's just so delightful to watch it take shape. Simple pleasures, greatest treasures.

There was some yarn left over after these ten cloths were knit. I was expecting this, because the pattern said you'd get 2.5 cloths to a ball of kitchen cotton. I went on a pattern searching spree and got really excited by the Linoleum discloth. Voilà.



This pattern might be even more fun that the fruit cloths, especially because you stop needing the chart quickly and can just groove on it. I will say, though, that I probably spent almost as much time weaving in ends as knitting the thing, but I adore the finished product. It's so nubbly and squishy, I'm thinking of making bigger versions for bathmats or hand towels or something. I'm also thinking about doing this in different colors of natural cotton in handspun, because apparently I'm a person who will consider knitting a dishcloth out of handspun yarn.

There was still yarn left. My fancy turned to crochet. I'd had the linked-ring tawashi in my queue practically since I started using Ravelry in 2007. It was time. Turns out I had yarn enough for not one, but four more tawashis.



I totally messed up the linking on the one on the lower right. I didn't realize it until I had crocheted the second one correctly. Pretty sure it'll still work. These are also incredibly fun and fast, though next time, I might use acrylic instead if I really want them to be scrubbier. Also, they certainly appealed to the husband for their mathiness, but I think he would have been more impressed if they were Borromean. Pretty sure I could do that next time, for funsies, right?

Guess what?

There's still yarn left.



WHEN WILL IT END?

I haven't thrown these out; I can't bear to. I also can't bear to keep working with this yarn right now. I've been trying to get creative. I made a clothesline out of some of the orange for hanging drying socks from the posters of the lofted bed. We even used a little bit when my roommate from the San Francisco years visited and we did a blind taste testing with some of the delicious Belgian beers we've collected.



I'm out of ideas. Help?

Gettin' cozy

I have a ton to tell you all about all sorts of things, but I'm behind on some photography, so I've got a quickie post for you today instead.

In a number of the cities I've visited so far during my time in Europe, people lock padlocks to bridges as declarations of love. So far, I've seen these here in Bonn, in Prague, Paris, and perhaps most impressively, in Cologne (Köln). I'm talking about a lot of locks.



I love looking at them; there are all sorts of interesting things about them. There are good German names, like Silke who loves Dietmar. There are cool old locks and shiny new ones. There are objects locked to the bridge through the padlocks, like pacifiers and rings. There are bedazzled locks declaring girls BFFs forever. I love imagining into the lives of these people and what inspired them to make these declarations. How many of these relationships survive? Do people come and see their lock? Do people ever take down the locks?

Also, did I mention there are A LOT of locks?



I was checking the ones in Cologne out today, and I saw the best declaration of love out of all of them. Whoever locked their love to the bridge didn't want the lock to get cold, and knit it a cozy.



I would totally lock my love of knitting to a bridge.

More travels plus acutal spinning content!

Have you heard of a béguinage? Don't feel bad if you haven't; I didn't know what one was until I went to the one in Leuven, Belgium the other day.



Quite a place, yes? Some of the most remarkable buildings I've ever seen. So the Béguinage. It's a little hard to capture in photos, but it's an island formed by splitting the river into two canals, and then filling the whole things with a little brick and cobblestone labyrinth of tiny houses and yards.



It's like a little medieval planned community, full of religious ladies. They were all widows or spinsters (hate the negative connotation of that word!). The women wanted a life devoted to faith, but didn't want to take vows or lose their independence, so these totally awesome places were built where they could support themselves with their own labor rather than religious charity (though I believe they accepted that as well). What kinds of skills do these spinsters (hint, hint) have? Spinning, of course!

Belgium was a big center for linen production, and I can only imagine the amazing tools that must have been everywhere in this town back in the day. It would be awesome if it were a living history type place, but instead, it is housing for college students and professors. How many other college kids get to live in a UNESCO World Heritage site?

So then I went to Paris. I could say a lot about that, because, well, it's Paris. Have a few thousand words worth of photos.


Suffice to say it was beautiful and magical and delicious. Perhaps the best thing in Paris is the art. I couldn't take any photos of the art at the Musée d'Orsay, but I did get a few at the Louvre. The painting is a Vermeer, and the girl is making bobbin lace like I saw in Bruges. The textiles are all Coptic.



Despite my traveling, I've had plenty of time to knit and spin. Not having a job will do that to you. So I'll show you some yarns I've finished recently. I don't know why I brought mostly teal/green fiber with me to Germany, but I swear those three are different yarns. They are Merino/silk/stuff, Gotland, Tunis, and merino/angora, going clockwise from the upper left.



Someday soon I'll share my knitting with you, because I've been doing that, too!

Rhinebeck Report

With my two co-bloggers gone from the East Coast, I was finally free to go to Rhinebeck by myself! Freedom! Who wants to shop for yarn with other people anyway, amirite?

Err, okay, so actually I was kind of bummed and wasn't sure if I would go or not, so I didn't make any advance plans for lodging. But my husband, who is a very nice man, agreed to go with me, so we drove the three hours from Princeton to enjoy Rhinebeck as a last-minute day-trip. We were greeted by the beautiful golden trees that line the main entrance. This is how you know you're really there!

One of my favorite things at Rhinebeck is always the skein and garment competition. Unfortunately, this year they had the whole display cordoned off behind ropes, so you couldn't get a close look at anything. Perhaps they've had trouble with too many people touching things? Nonetheless, there were some nice items on display.

I also saw the Sheep-to-Shawl teams hard at work, which was exciting. Somehow I usually miss this, so it was great to see.

Of course, there were also the usual adorable sheeps and handsome camelids.

And, of course, I bought some stuff: Mountain Colors Targhee, Fiber Optic wool/silk top in the most incredible ultramarine blue, 8 oz of Finn wool, and 1 oz of super-luxurious sharlea merino from Stash Enhancement. I also got two ounces of cashgora top and a magnetic pattern-holder thingie. Considering I was only at the fair for about five hours, I think I was pretty efficient.

Going as a day-trip worked surprisingly well, actually. Sort of a condensed experience. It wasn't as much fun as poring over every last skein with my fellow yarnies, but we saw the sights and did the deeds, nonetheless.

Different cultures are different

Although living in Europe is a lot of fun, because of all the adventure, travel, and just the experience of being in another culture, there are some challenges, the language barrier being the biggest. I can get along in all my day-to-day stuff just fine, especially because the vast majority of people speak at least some English (though not the lovable ferry boat captain!), and I've picked up some of the essentials, like how to say "no mayonnaise." Still, I've been too shy to try and make friends here. Mostly because I feel like if I showed up at a local knitting group, I imagine I'd be forcing people into their second (or third, or fourth) language, and I wouldn't want to make the regulars feel uncomfortable while my presence is just fleeting. Maybe I'm being overly anxious? In any case, that's where things stand.

The combination of missing the social aspect of knitting plus having fewer entertainment options (no TV, extremely limited internet, etc) has gotten me into watching/listening to a lot of podcasts. I've been listening to some knitting podcasts for at least five years, but I've discovered a whole bunch of new ones lately. Many thanks to Starbucks for having free unlimited wifi that allows me to download this stuff.

So one podcast, The KnitGirllls, has an expand your horizons spinalong going on their Ravelry board. October is for spinning cheviot, which is certainly a new-to-me fiber. Behold!



The fiber is from Dyeabolical, and it was spun on a Bosworth spindle and plied on my True Creations kick spindle. I got about 300 yds of a 3-ply. Originally I was hoping it'd be good sock yarn, but the yardage is a bit too little for the size of socks I like to make, and the colors blended and became a little duller than I had envisioned for socks-- that was my fault in how I spun the yarn, by the way.

Then comes the Knitabulls podcast, who have an October monster spinalong/knitalong focusing on Halloween colors. By golly, that fiber is Halloween colored. I'm not much of a toy knitter, but I do enjoy crocheting them, and behold!



A marsupial momster and baby. So cute. Easy and fun to make, no sewing involved, and done in a few hours. I decided to jump on board with this knitalong when I discovered the "big box craft store" here in Bonn. It's not that big or boxy, but it did have polyfill, stuffing, and eyes.

The thing about this project that I think will remind me of Germany in particular is that the eyes are not safety eyes; they are just shank buttons that look like eyes (Wouldn't that make the creepiest cardigan?!). It surprised me exactly 0% that I couldn't find safety eyes here. From being around German strangers, their parenting style doesn't seem to involve being concerned about toy eyes being a safety hazard. Half the time when I see a kid toddling along on the street I can't even tell which adult(s) they belong to. After all, this is the country that brings us the Kinder Egg, choking hazard extraordinaire.

In completely other news, Rhinebeck is upon us and I am not going. WOE. I'm hoping somebody is; can I get a report?

Handarbeiten and not so Handarbeiten

Travels! I've been to two places in the past couple of weeks that had some interesting textile displays. The first was at the Heimatmuseum here in my neighborhood of Beuel (pronounced like "boil"). It's the local history museum, largely dedicated to the history of doing laundry. You read that right.



Beuel was historically the place where laundry went sent upriver from Köln (Cologne). They had lots of old washing machines and linens, etc., and my big realization there was that the spin cycle is a HUGE improvement over the wringer.

There were also many displays on what life was like back in the day, which in Germany includes handarbeiten, which is the word for needlework. My favorite was the display of sock anatomy in the school:




So many toe options!

Right after this trip across the street to the Heimatmuseum, I took a longer trip with an old friend of mine. We visited Prague, Vienna, Salzburg, and Munich. Until Munich, there was basically nothing fiber-related at all, if you can believe it. The schedule was pretty jam packed with the usual sort of sight seeing. We drank lots of fresh, fizzy wine that's only halfway fermented. Its nickname in Austria is sturm, because it comes up on you like a storm. After that warm up, we got to Munich, where this was going on:




But there's only so much of this that one can do:



(Emily and Jenny Jo will both recognize this dear friend of mine, who is also a knitter!)

So we checked out the Deutsches Musem, which is perhaps the biggest museum I've ever been to, all dedicated to technology. This museum has 10 MILES of exhibits, so we had to narrow down what kinds of technology we wanted to look at. This resulted in seafaring and textiles. The textile section was enormous (so was the seafaring--a whole submarine!) and had huge looms and knitting machines:



They had antique tools, many of which were flax-related:


and my favorite, the circular knitting machine you could crank:



If you're ever in Munich, I'd definitely recommend checking this out. For that matter, if you're in Bonn, come to the Heimatmuseum as well!

The other amazing textile discoveries were the Oktoberfest costumes. Turns out dirdls and lederhosen are serious business. I didn't get any good pictures, but people are not wearing cheap Halloween costumes; these are beautiful garments with lots of amazing touches. There were lots of knit vests and sweaters, predominantly in garter stitch with maybe some cable details. Also amazing wool socks with Bavarian traveling cables on them. Good stuff. Here's a nice lederhosened leg for you, actually taken in Salzburg where they were also out in full force:


I've got some more travels coming up before year's end, so I will definitely report on what I find! Also, I have been spinning and knitting....

One last note: sheep and cows in Bavaria chilling on the hillsides really wear bells around their necks, and it's the cutest thing I've ever seen.