15.05.13. New Designs, English Oaks and Heaven.

 

So, my friends, here is my excuse for yet again neglecting my blog. My studio has the look of the aftermath of a hurricane – Hurricane Susan!

I have been working from dawn to dusk getting my first patterns ready for my website.   Imaging a trumpet fanfare…………..

Sophie

Sophie the lined version

Sophie: the lined version using Kaffe Fassett Fabric

 

Unlined Sophie and child’s unlined Sophie

Sophie and child’s Sophie: the unlined versions knitted in Rowan D/K and bound in Kaffe Fassett.

Hampton Court

Hampton Court Intarsia Version

Hampton Court: the patterned version

 

Hampton Court, two coloured version

Hampton Court: the two colour version

 

I have decided that my pattern samples should be knitted in a small size. Small, I am not. The patterned Hampton Court does fit me, the two colour version is a small – and I so want to wear it………..crash diet?

Even more annoying, both versions of my Kaffe design are small, and I so want to wear them too. Back to the bigger sizes?

Kaffe

Red Kaffe

Kaffe: Red colour-way

 

Kaffe Crème

Kaffe: Cream colour-way

 

Our valley is suddenly green, even the Walnut trees are beginning to burst forth into leaf (I love that expression, because, they really do – burst – big fat buds one day, tender young leaves the next). Not only are the leaves in situ but lots of the trees are now in flower. The Oaks are heavy with more flowers than I’ve ever seen before.

 

English Oak Flowers

The Oak just across from my studio is depositing the most alarming amount of pollen – a cloud of it every time the wind blows. I even ‘caught’ some of it on a tray.

 

Oak Pollen

Hay-fever sufferers beware!

The Beech flowers are, I think, rather exquisite and, like most tree flowers, apart from the Cherry and other very showy blooms, go unnoticed in our busy lives.

 

Beech Flower

Sunday the 12th of May was Rogation Sunday, when, times past, Parishioners would ‘beat’ the Parish Boundary. In the case of our village that would be a very long walk, so it was decided to walk the Estate and share a picnic lunch by the lakes. And no, I wasn’t with them – my yarns kept me busy all day. I’m now beginning to wonder if, when I reach the Pearly Gates, I can use the same excuse as shepherds; traditionally a shepherd was buried with a hunk of fleece in his hand in order that St Peter should know that he had to care for his flock even on the Sabbath, and was therefore rarely in church. So it’s a ball of D/K and 4mm needles in my hand then!