Munich

I will spare you the pictures of the central square and the crazily awesome architecture. Instead, I will list a few observations.

These people are serious about their beer.


You couldn't spit without hitting a brauhaus or biergarten. And we had gorgeous weather, so brauhaus (-es? -er?) and entire cafes and restaurants conducted their business outdoors. I quite liked the weisse beers I tried- I found them sweet and aromatic. Although I cannot drink them by the litre. Alcoholic drinks should not be measured in litres! Petrol and water come in litres, not beer!

These people are serious about their meat.


Bavaria does not seem to be a place that recognizes the fact that people might sometimes feel they've had enough pork and beef. However, I definitely didn't starve. Here, at Der Pschorr (at one corner of the Viktualienmarkt), I had some pike perch, on a bed of some beautifully done risotto.

But it was definitely hard going sometimes. The Limey was in Munich for a conference, and I attended the conference dinners and barbecues. This is the only time I've ever been at gatherings such as this where no effort whatsoever was made to accommodate vegetarians. I'm not vegetarian (see fish, above), and luckily I'm not picky. At the fancy conference dinner, I ate soup, salad and veggies and gave The Limey my portion of meat (so he was happy), and at the barbecue, I ate crisps and bread.

One of the great things for me about travelling when I don't know the local language is ordering random stuff off the menu to see what you get. Like I said, I'm not picky, although not eating most meat does limit this pleasure somewhat. However, ordering from the dessert menu is always safe.



These people are serious about their dirndls.


When I first saw these in a shop window, I thought, Haha, good tourist trap. But then I noticed them everywhere: in department stores that seem to to cater largely to the locals; in shops outside of the more central touristy areas. So it can't all be souvenir tat. That purple one with the peacock feathers costs EUR2200! But, except for waitresses at the brauhauser, I didn't see anyone actually wearing one. A friend of mine said that you do see more of the traditional costumes around Oktoberfest time. I did see gentlemen "of a certain age" wearing the old-skool lapel-less jackets with the small collars. I think those look really good, actually. We should have bought one for The Limey.

In all, I had a really good few days wandering around the city. The public transport was easy to use, I could get by with a half-dozen words of German, people were helpful. I do like Berlin better, but that could be because I had my own personal tour guide and translator with me there.

And now for the knitty portion of the trip review.
Non-knitters, you can stop reading now.

I know what's on everyone's minds: Wollmeise.

Okay, well. Okay. Now, I've never bought or even seen any Wollmeise yarn in person. I like touching and feeling new yarns, so I hardly ever buy stuff off t'internets. But I'd heard good things about the yarn, so I figured I'd make some sort of effort to see it. What a rollercoaster ride- it went something like this:

:) Going to Germany! Wollmeise is German! I'll be able to get some at the yarn shops!

:( Wollmeise doesn't sell in shops, even in her native land.

:) But she sells in markets! I can navigate the Deutsche Bahn website to get to a market!

:( No markets are scheduled for the few days I'm in Germany.

:) But what's this?! She has an actual physical, bricks-and-mortar shop! And it's only 30 minutes by train from Munich! And it opened for business last month!

:( But it's not scheduled to open any of the days I'm in Munich!

So I'm afraid there is no Wollmeise experience to report. I did wander around the city to find some yarn shops. Unfortunately, two of them were closed when I found them, but I did get into Lanaiolo.


They had a good selection of GGH yarns, a little bit of Rowan (KSH, natch) and Debbie Bliss. Some other cashmere, mohair, alpaca blends and such. Basically, though, it was way too hot to even think of those fibres. I was on the hunt for summer fibres for a dress. I eventually bought some GGH Safari, a linen/nylon blend- but maybe not enough for a whole dress? (Stop me if you've heard that before...) I think I'll be able to do something with a constrasting colour, though.

A spot of travel

The Limey has to be in Munich for work next week, and since we've only seen each other for a total of two days in the last month, I'm gonna tag along. The only place in Germany I've ever been is Berlin, which I loved, so I'm excited about wandering around Munich. We'll be there for five days. I think I may have to hang around with The Limey and his work people in the evenings, but I will have the days to myself.

Anybody been to Munich? Or live there? What should I see? I will get a guidebook, but it's always nice to hear people's experiences. Oooh, and restaurant recommendations, please. All I do nowadays when I travel is look for yarn shops and restaurants!

I wouldn't need to be paid to knit if I were paid to frog

I'm working on another design for Fyberspates. It's actually a version of a sweater that I had been knitting for myself. But one that other people could also knit without, you know, reading my mind.


This picture was taken during its second frogging session. Both times, I'd knit around 10 inches. The first time, I realized the lace pattern wasn't matching up exactly symmetrically across the side "seams". If this were just for me, I probably would have just carried on, but it's the sample, so I figured it should actually, you know, look good. So, frogged back to the ribbing.

The second time, I realized that, if I were to write up the way I was going about this sweater, it was going to result in a pattern involving numerous instances of the phrase "at the same time," as well as some pretty heinous simultaneous lace shaping instructions. (I love figuring out lace shaping, myself, but I realize it's not some other people's idea of a party.) So, frogged back to the ribbing.

Finally, I figured out a way to do this without future knitters tearing their hair out, and I'm merrily knitting along, la la la, past the waist shaping...when it dawns on me that I've been knitting this as if it were for me, i.e., to my measurements. The width isn't a problem, because luckily I'd figured out that bit of the sizing already. The length, however...since I'm short, I've pretty much memorized where I like my clothing to hit on my hip, my length measurements, etc., and I was just unconsciously knitting this to my preferences, rather than a standard sample size.

Third time's the charm, right?

I want to knit a dress

I know, I've already knit a dress, but now I want a summer one. Yes, by the time I finish, it won't be summer anymore, but since I've got a couple of projects that have to be done before I even start on anything else, I'm hoping to just sneak it in to next summer.

I've been mulling over a summer dress in my head for a while now, and I have some things figured out:

• it will be knee-length or just above

• it will be knit in linen or some other summer-appropriate, non-stretchy yarn (boo to cotton, silk or bamboo)

• it will have short or no sleeves

• it will be mostly stockinette

• the skirt will be fuller than A-line

The only problem? I have no idea how the top half of this dress is going to look. I want it to be flattering on me, obviously (no waist, little Buddha belly). It will need some sort of waist and boob treatment so I don't just look like a stuffed sausage.

I'm trying to figure out what kind of shape/detailing would look good. The problem is I haven't been around the shops in ages, so am drawing a blank on the different styles. Any suggestions? Any suggestions on yarn that won't cost a fortune? I need to buy a whole dress' worth!

My God...I think I have a tan!

Continuing visitor season, my good friend K was here for a few days last week. (I love visitors.) I hadn't seen her in ages, so it was good to catch up. It was also good because she was up for a lot of walking around, and since I was only starting to familiarize myself with Oxford, we explored together.

We did spend some time wandering around the town, but the best was when we, unintentionally, took the Thames Canal path all the way to Wolvercote, at which point we figured there was no reason not to stop at The Trout Inn. Mmmm....Pimm's by the water in the sunshine. Then we came all the way back down to Oxford via the Thames Path. I think I'll be making that journey many more times.

We did a bunch of stuff that you're "supposed" to do. We peeked at some of the colleges, looked at all the great buildings, went to The Turf. But, honestly, the best afternoon we had was when we ducked into a random pub to get out of a sudden rain and found that it was populated only by the Kiwi bartender and two of his regulars, a Welshman and an Englishmen. (I feel like I should start a joke here: Two Americans walk into a pub...) They started by disapproving our beer choices, tried to convince us that cricket and rugby were the only proper sports, talked about where they/we had travelled, recommended a restaurant, and then pushed drink at us, including a Jagermeister/Red Bull concoction...which was weird. Anyway, by the time we left, my cheeks were aching from laughing, and then the bartender refused to take payment for our drinks.

It's really nice when you get a good afternoon like that in, especially with visitors.

Hera Jacket

We don't have our own internet yet, using the neighbour's, which is patchy, so I'll do all my blogging at once while I've got any signal.

I delivered the Scrumptious design project to Jeni on UK Ravelry Day. The pattern's being tech edited, and so will be available soon. Meanwhile, it was in the fashion show at Ravelry Day, and I can show you pictures. Unfortunately, not on the lovely model for the show- I had no time for pictures then!

Here it is:


Hera, a cozy wrappy jacket knit in Fyberspates Scrumptious Chunky, in a fantastic woven-like pattern. It was great working with the scrumptious yarn, and it works perfectly for the stitch pattern- it really makes the texture stand out. And the wool/silk mix gives a heavy, cozy jacket that just feels really good when you put it on. It almost makes me long for chillier weather. Almost.

Folded collar, hemmed edges, great little detailing that highlights the two characteristics I was going for: texture and shape.


Too bad the sample's gone back to Jeni! It was so cozy to wrap myself up in during the evenings, especially since the weather has turned the last few days.

You wouldn't believe how many pictures it took to get a few that looked good- there are more and I'll show them when the pattern's available. But it's really hard to take pictures of yourself! I didn't want to do it outside, 'cause I feel like an eejit posing. Getting a good background with good light indoors meant moving furniture around. I think this pretty much sums it up:


I'm really happy with how this jacket turned out. I'm always slightly surprised when stuff happens the way you plan it- but I got the shape, feel and everything about this jacket right.

UK Ravelry Day report

I had so much fun at UK Ravelry Day. Oh, it was brilliant. I met and talked to so many people. This is special for me because in situations like that, I usually find I have nothing to say, even to people with whom I supposedly have something in common, so I clamp up and sort of just spend my time mooching around the stalls, get bored, and find that I still have hours to kill before my train/plane/bus/whatever. Not this time! So in this 'Report from Ravelry Day' post, I shall simply tell you about the interactions I had with all those lovely people.

First, the lady from the Knitting and Crochet Guild who offered an expenses-paid cab ride for random Ravelry Day attendees at the train station: Thanks!

Then I got to meet Jeni of Fyberspates. She is lovely and tall and was wearing cool boots.

She got to see the Scrumptious design in person and loved it, which was a great relief to me. She let me pick out yarn for the third and last design of this batch of ideas I'd sent her. Best of all, we had a good chat about further collaboration and ways to get the designs into shops as well as selling on the innernetz.

And then I spent the whole morning helping Angie set up the fashion show. Let me tell you: I have never had so much fun whilst in the midst of so much chaos. Oh man. Angie and I, along with Pat, Pam and Tom (I believe that's his name) ran around like headless chickens for a while, before Tom sat Angie down with pen and paper and got things started on the road to organization. Oh, it was glorious fun. With five minutes to spare before the show began, we managed to put together a master list of garments and models in the order of presentation. I was convinced we would send people out in the wrong order or there would be huge gaps in the show while we got people changed, but in the end, I believe it went off pretty credibly. I was backstage frantically throwing clothes at people and moving them physically into correct order, so didn't get to see any of it! But I had an unbeatable time.

I got cake and spent some of the early afternoon working the door and checking tickets with a volunteer in a Ravelry t-shirt whose name I totally did not get. We had a grand time. When the number of people died down, Jo, the day's organizer, threw a Meg Swansen ticket at me and told me in no uncertain terms to enjoy myself at the talk.

I ran into Liz while getting more cake after the talk, and spent a relaxing half hour chatting with her. We'd only met a few days before, when I went to my first knitting meeting of the Oxford Bluestockings group. Always nice to get a chance to pick a local's brains when you're a new resident.

As I was sitting, knitting and waiting for one of the workshops to let out, Pam or Pat (I'm sorry! I got them mixed up in the fashion show madness, and now will forever be confused) stopped by and, again, I spent a great half hour chatting with her. She goes to a bunch of the knitterly gatherings in the UK, and says that Tom happily accompanies her to them as well. I look forward to running into them again.

Finally, to cap off a great day, I met up with the Irish contingent and -what else?- went to the pub. It was great to see Isobel and Sinead again, and to meet Averil and some of the representatives from Cork.

It turned out a bunch of other Ravelry Day people, including the organizers and some guests, congregated at the same pub. We took over a whole half of the first floor, I think. God only knows what the rest of the pub thought. We thanked Jo, although she refused to make a speech. It was a brilliant evening, and, thanks to two very weak mojitos (was there even booze in those?), I even managed to find my way to the train station sans taxi.

And then! At the train station, I met Rene, another Californian scientist Raveler. She'd only just moved to the UK a couple of months ago. We were on the same train for most of the way and spent the journey discussing expat things, science, and the way British people use whingeing about the weather as a social lubricant.

Great day.

Minor miracles

One of the things I love about knitting is how a few little finishing tasks turn some random, tattered-looking pieces of fabric into a beautiful, finished, professional-looking garment. Weave in ends, polish up the edges and -voila!- a piece of actual clothing! That you can wear!

It's done.


This is the sample for a pattern I've designed for Fyberspates' Scrumptious yarn. I took my time finishing this because it was clear that I wouldn't have enough time to knit a sample for another pattern, anyway. I was a bit nervous about how the whole thing would look (a problem when you pitch designs based solely on a sketch and swatch) but as soon as I knit the collar and attached the sleeves...it all came together and it actually looks like what I'd intended it to look like.


I wanted to get some modeled pictures before delivering it to Jen at UK Ravelry day, but my photographer is out of town, and I don't know anyone in Oxford to model for me yet.

That's deviously convenient timing, that is...

We've been here for a week, surrounded by boxes, and The Limey has just left for a three-week training stint in the US. So who gets the pleasure of unpacking and moving shit around? That's right: me. The cat is useless- won't even move from her spot in the sun to make it easier for me to get at the boxes.

And I have no idea where my phone charger is. Oh, it's in one of these boxes, for sure, but which one?

*contented sigh*

We've managed to move ourselves, the cat, and our stuff to Oxford, and have been here for almost a week. Other than the fact that we've been unpacking, yet still find ourselves surrounded by boxes (kinda like at the other end, where we kept packing and packing, yet the flat still looked the same), I'm pretty much loving it so far.

I'm sure I'll be sharing with you all the stuff I like about living here, in due course. But, for now, one pleasant bonus to having even a bit of outdoor space:


Stuff dries so much faster!

Even more progress?

Three guys.
One truck.
Two empty rooms.
One very suspicious cat.

More progress?

Another small detail sorted.

I bought my train tickets to go to UK Ravelry Day. The boxes and dust must be getting to me, because it didn't occur to me that I would - duh - need a return ticket. So I bought the Oxford-Coventry ticket, congratulating myself on catching the advance fare of only 12 quid. As soon as I hit 'enter' after all my credit card details, I thought, hang on... something's missing...

Luckily, for some strange reason, two separate singles are slightly cheaper than a return, so it all worked out.

I hope this spaciness goes away soon- I don't want to forget to bring my Fyberspates design sample with me!

I will buy the actual ticket for the festival itself in a bit. I'm trying to figure out if I want to take the 'Design your own lace project' workshop. £25 is not too dear, but I wonder if it's going to be more about how to put together different lace motifs, or how to invent your own?

Are you guys going to Rav day? Please say hi!

Three things

Progress?

1. Pattern for sample to be knit: Done and sent to Jen. Can't wait to see it!

2. Scrumptious sample knitting: Going well. Hope I have enough yarn. I've already asked for more. If I've underestimated again, it'll be embarrassing. Scrumptious pattern: most of maths done.

3. Moving: why is it that I've packed boxes and boxes, and we've moved three carloads up to Oxford, and yet the flat still looks exactly the same? In fact, if possible, it looks like there's more stuff than before!

Knit knit knit

A while ago, I wrote to Jen at Fyberspates and sent her a few design ideas for her yarns, 'cause I love them. She was totally on board with the ideas, and sent me yarn to swatch. Everything went well, and I was sent yarn to start on the first project. Whee! So exciting. I got even more excited when I got back from Scotland to an e-mail saying she wanted at least one of the designs to go on the catwalk show at UK Ravelry Day.

This is great (you'll have to imagine to yourselves the little dance I did), but that means I must get them done before the 6th of June! I knit as much as I could while I had my houseguests, but now they're gone, so I can really focus.


This is the first project. I just can't get the colour right on camera. It's Scrumptious Chunky in "Biscuit", which actally is a dark-toned mossy grey-green. Never has a yarn been so aptly named- it really is scrumptious to work with. And with a name like "biscuit"! Mmmm... I think I need some tea...


I swatched and swatched to get a stitch pattern that matched what I had in my head (my problem is scale- I feel like I never know exactly what will happen once a pattern goes from a six inch swatch to a whole garment; however, this one translated perfectly). It's going quickly, and it will definitely be done in time for UK Ravelry Day, but I'd also like enough time to write the pattern and get it tech-edited. That last bit may be asking a bit much?

As well, there is a second project which I'd love to be able to put on the catwalk show. There is almost no way I'd get it knitted up in time, in addition to the Scrumptious one. Jen has suggested sending it out to get a sample knitted, but that means I have to write up the pattern. I've got most of the maths and charting done, actually, so this is a possibility. However, if I get the pattern out today, the knitter would only have three weeks to knit up a sample. Do-able, as it's not a big project, especially if done in one of the smaller sizes.

Okay, this is all possible, but it means I have to FOCUS. No procrastination on Ravelry and other random internet shite. If you guys see me on Ravelry, send me a strongly-worded note!

Another solution to the two-body problem?

Today we sent over the deposit for the little house in Oxford. Saturday, we will go up to hand over the rental agreement and get the keys.

It's a great teeny Victorian terrace, built for workers on the railroad and their families, and is right next to a river. Actually, it's on an island, so is surrounded by rivers. The estate agent assured us it *didn't* flood a few years ago; we'll see. It's probably smaller than our current flat, but there are two big plusses: 1. It's got a gas cooker!!!1!!1!! and 2. It has a small garden with the teensiest plot of plantable soil. Oh, and obviously, it's not Woking!

Actually, I kinda wish maybe it had flooded, because then they'd have had to replace the gross, totally hideous, decades-old carpet they have in there. I shudder at even the thought of walking over it barefoot, let alone sitting on it or laying on it. The floor under it is wooden- I'm really hoping the landlord will let us tear out the carpets; I'm going to ask on Saturday.

As I think about all this re-locating business and after a conversation with one of The Limey's co-workers tonight, I'm reminded of something I keep hearing about over here. I've met and heard of upteen people who solve the two-body problem by keeping two residences. One half of a couple would live in a bedsit or small flat at his/her place of work, and the other partner would live in their "real" home, with the kids/pets. At the weekends, the partner living "away" would come "home".

For The Limey's colleague, the commute between homes is a 2-3 hour affair, and she works four-day weeks, going home on Thursday night and coming back to work on Monday morning. When I first started working in Southampton, I chatted to a university worker at a bus stop who kept a flat in Southampton, but went home to London, to his wife and daughter, every Friday. They had decided not to move the family to Southampton because his daughter was enrolled in a very good school in London. It took him 3 hours, a train, tube and bus to get "home".

These arrangements are apparently not out of the ordinary. City workers do this a lot, supposedly: going "home" to the leafy suburbs or countryside only at the weekends. This seems very strange to me. One of the biggest stresses when I commuted was that I felt that I just was never home, that I had to cram all my actual living into the weekends: it was work work work cram cram cram. If I didn't even have the few hours in the evening with The Limey and the cat, I don't know how much *more* stressed I may have been. Without your pets and family, what is the point, then? Plus, you know I'd try to knit at one place or another, and wouldn't have the correct needles size or whatever. I would just never feel like I was at home, then.

Also, having to catch a train was one of best ways to keep myself from just spending all my time at work. Coming from academia, it was easy for me to stay in lab far into the evening and think nothing of it. But because I, and everyone else, knew that I had that train ride home, it was easier for me to justify leaving at 6 sharp.

A while back, The Limey and I had discussed such an arrangement, but we pretty quickly decided it wouldn't work for us. Just as well, the Home Office take a dim view of such unconventional arrangements, I think. As I'm here as a spouse, it's just as well to prevent any uncertainty on their part.

::catches breath::

Whew! The last couple of weeks have been crazy, and it looks set to continue. Two Saturdays ago, The Limey and I took a lightening quick trip up to Oxford to look at potential places to live. Using the method of driving around looking for "To let" signs, we found a lovely teeny terraced house, with a teeny yard, in an awesome neighbourhood. We're sending in the application paperwork today.

Then the day after that, two college friends of mine flew in. We hung around London for a couple of days, then I trained it up to Edinburgh with them (Why, yes, I did stop into k1 yarns!). Rented a car, drove around Glen Coe and the Trossachs, drank a few foofy cocktails, had a great time. I took the train back down to London on Sunday, while they went on to Wales. They day after that (yesterday!), my sister and her friends arrived for a visit. They will be here for a few days, and the day they leave, my friends get back from Wales. We'll hang around London, with maybe a day trip to Brighton, and as soon as they leave, it's time to pack up and move.

Somewhere in there, I have to fit in the knitting of a couple of adult-sized garments and, oh, yeah, writing a couple of patterns as well.

Swatch, swatch, swatch

When I first started knitting, I just wanted to get going, like, RIGHT NOW!!! So would just cast on and knit. When I finally admitted that swatching was sometimes necessary, I grudgingly made these teeny, miserly little swatches and didn't bother to wash or block them, or sometimes even bind off and take them off the needles before measuring. This may explain why my first half-dozen sweaters ended up in the frog pond.

I've gotten to the point now where I really like swatching. And I don't swatch just for gauge. I swatch to see how I like working with a certain yarn. I swatch up different stitch patterns just to see how it'll work in such-and-such a colour, or such-and-such a fibre. I swatch because a lace catches my eye when I flip through my stitch dictionaries. I swatch because I see a picture or scene and think, Hmm, I wonder if that could be captured in a knitted way? Basically, I swatch now just to play, and I consider this a welcome milestone in my development as a knitter and designer.

I swatched a lot this last week, because Jen of Fyberspates sent me some gorgeous gorgeous yarns to play and design with.


The red is her superwash British merino dk, which I really enjoyed working with. Knits up beeyoootifully. The big middle swatch is her Scrumptious chunky, a wool/silk blend. I couldn't adequately capture the colour (a springy-mossy green) and sheen of this yarn, or the great nubbly-woven texture of the stitch here. Take my word for it, it's just lovely. The Limey, who is not normally a fan of green, was bewitched by this yarn. He grabbed it as soon as I opened the package and I had to pull it away from him to knit with it.

I've got grand plans for these yarns, so watch this space!

In which I am psychic

(Or, how we finally escaped Woking!)

Remember last month, when I had a little whine about how I'd like my life to at least vaguely resemble an adult's? Remember that bit about what if our jobs changed or The Limey got offered something better?

Dudes, I am psychic!

The Limey has indeed been offered another position. (We will not mention the unfairness of him just being given jobs out of the blue when I've been busting my ass trying to find one.) When I got laid off from my job in Southampton, the plan was to find a job closer to his so that we could move into London and live somewhere less soul-sucking. I guess the FSM had other plans.

The Limey does quite like his current job, so it took a couple of weeks for him to weigh up the offer and counter-offers. One of the major minuses was that the new job is in notLondon. One of the pluses was that it isn't in Woking. In the end, what decided it was that the people at the new place took him out and got him drunk. (Yeah, that totally works- it's how I scored him!)

So, in six weeks or so, we'll be moving to Oxford.

We're quite happy about it. Oxford is its own city- it's not a suburb. And we really liked it when we visited last year. I distinctly remember walking through the Covered Market and thinking, "Why doesn't Woking have something like this? If we lived here, I could do my grocery shopping here." So I guess now I can! Also, there're tons of science jobs up there- lots of science parks and, of course, the university, so I can continue my job search on fairly fertile ground.

I've already asked Mooncalf about living in Oxford (I suspect she's being paid by the council, or at least their tourist board!) and she's given me quite a lot of advice. I can't wait to move up there. I've made The Limey promise we can rent a place with a garden.

Whoa! Knitting content!

Everything in the household has gone crazy in the last few weeks. Changes are afoot, and I'll be able to tell you more when everything's decided. (No, it isn't me getting a job.)

Surprisingly, this has not meant that I'm doing more knitting. I'm kind of stalled on it. I've got a few swatches to do up and proposals to send off, but I'm not managing it at the moment. This means that, in the last month, really all I've done is a few bits and pieces that don't really add up to anything substantial. Still, it's something.

Remember the never-ending sleeve?



This is its sister! Yes, I finally managed to finish the first one, and am now halfway through the second. I have a weird love/hate relationship with this project. I hate the thought of sitting down with the charts and following the lace pattern. But once I've started, I keep saying to myself, Just one more row, just one more row...

At one point, to have something to knit in the car, I did start some socks for The Limey.


These are Kate's Hareton socks (Rav link), but done toe-up. I also have a surprise treatment for the cuff when I get to it.

Okay, now we're off to Kew to enjoy the day. Driving through Devon and Cornwall last weekend, I was happy to see that alot of the roadsides were planted with daffodils. Vast drifts of them. I'm excited to see what Kew looks like!

We survived

Yes, there were scenes such as this:


But there were also scenes such as this:
...from a car park in Bigbury-on-sea. I thought it looked familiar. Why yes, I'd seen it before, in "Evil Under the Sun" from TV's Agatha Christie's Poirot!

Other scenes:

Grimspound, a Bronze Age settlement in Dartmoor, where we stayed in a camping barn that not only came with its own dog...



...but also its own sheep!


If only it hadn't been so cold! The whole point of a camping barn is that you don't have to put up a tent, but I'm afraid a tent would have been warmer.

We also got to climb around the rocks on Lizard Point and do a bit of tidepooling:


Have any of you read Susan Cooper's The Dark Is Rising series? Most of it is set in Cornwall, and the kids spend a lot of their time in and out of caves. I now know why!


There's lots of caves along the beach, and I knew exactly how they felt, going into little holes on the beach and expecting to discover something exciting just in that bit that I can't quite see...

It was actually a really good weekend. Yes, it rained in bits, particularly when we had to set up or take down the tents, and we did get hailed on at one point, but there were a few spectacular hours when the sun came out and we got to see glorious landscapes. Plus, in Padstow, we ate, like, a whole, sea's worth of seafood.

We never did manage a cream tea, but that just means it's saved for next time!

Who thought this was a good idea?

A few months ago, we planned a long weekend for a friend's 30th birthday. She wanted to go away and do something fun to forget about the big 3-0 instead of sitting around London stewing about it.

We planned a hiking/camping trip to Cornwall and Devon. None of us had ever been, or, if one of us had, like The Limey, it was ages ago when he was a kid. We'd heard great things about the West Country, and, in this day and age, a little road trip close to home sounded so much better than jetting off to a foreign beach somewhere. Who needs the carbon footprint, eh? Spend locally and all that. Also, cream teas!

The weekend has arrived for us, and, as we prepare to load gear into the car in the lashing rain, all I have to say is: Who the hell thought a camping trip in March in Britain would be a good idea?!

I need a kick in the ass

I started knitting a sweater ages ago. Okay, since mid-January. It's taking forever. I'm on the first sleeve. I've been on the first sleeve for, oh, a month.


The lace pattern, though pretty as all get out, is a royal pain in the ass to knit and hard to memorize, so I have to sit there with the chart in front of me. As for decreasing and increasing in pattern? Hahahaha! I have to count stitches, move markers, jiggle a decrease here so I can do a double increase there...ugh.

It's a design I was originally going to write up, before I decided it would be a nightmare to do so. I still wanted the sweater, though, so I started to knit one for me. Also, I want to make sure the whole concept works when I get around to maybe designing an easier version to turn into a pattern.

I really want some mindless knitting for sitting in the car, or waiting rooms, and other stuff (have some yarn for The Limey's next pair of socks) but I'm deathly afraid that if I have something else to work on, I may never get back to this sleeve.

As an aside, I don't suppose anyone knows of a LYS or something around London who needs some help? Or some sort of yarny business or gathering or whatever who may want a hand? I've got the sciencey work experience thingy going three days a week, which is great, but I'm kind of itching to meet more yarny/fibre-y people and get more involved in stuff happening in the area. I'd love to help organize a knittery gathering, for example. I don't even care about getting paid.

Back to the drawing board

Whenever I remember to buy the Sunday papers, I look through the colour supplements and if stuff catches my eye, I'll put it up on my knitting design board, as inspiration. Last week, I took a look and obviously, I had ruffles on my mind:


I was all ready to scope out ways to design a cardi or pullover with a deep front slit and ruffles. Then I thought to myself, hang on...does that sound familiar? Of course it does! Kim Hargreaves has already done it! I loved Rosa when I saw it ages ago. Apparently it stuck. May have to knit it. So awesome.

Anyway, this brings me to something that's been on my mind lots. It's come to the forefront because the new Knitty came out today. Throughout my designing stint, I've submitted patterns to places (though not to Knitty for more than a year now), and been accepted as well as rejected. This is fine. Except every once in a while, I'll look at publications and think: What?! They publish that, but not my genius design?! What are they smoking?! And then, of course, I look at blogs and Ravelry, and people rave about the stuff I'm least excited about, proving that the editors know what they're doing.

And then I think, Holy crap, do I just have really bad taste?

So then I think, Aha! I've got it, I shall design stuff other people seem to like! That's it! Genius.

But, in sane moments, I know that's madness. It would be the easiest way to turn something I like doing into a chore. Plus, playing the game of trying to predict what other people like would be crazy-making. I knit for me.

I definitely don't envy the people who have to pick patterns and put together a magazine that makes sense.

Having said that, I'm off to give them more work.

O. M. G. W. T. F.?

Absolute true transcript of what The Limey is saying to some survey taker on the phone:

"Dublin...in the Republic of Ireland...yeah, southern Ireland...yes, south of Northern Ireland..."

I'd like to be an adult now, please

Near the end of last year, after much discussion and soul-searching, The Limey and I put in an offer for a garden flat in south London.

Two hours later, my work announced lay-offs.

Luckily, The Limey had been cheeky and put in an offer lower than what we'd agreed on, and the seller rejected it.

Here's the thing, though, all our thinking about buying a place centred around where we'd like to live vs. where we have to live to get to work. And all of a sudden, one big problem was eliminated (albeit along with the income needed to afford a mortgage).

I was relieved, but now I'm nervous. We'd still like to get out of Woking, but it seems silly to move without knowing where I'll be working next. The real problem is: what if it happens again? What if we buy a place within the holy triange of mywork-hiswork-livelyplacetolive, and then one of us, for any reason, changed jobs? Say The Limey gets offered something better elsewhere? Or I get laid off again, or one of us decides on a change in career? I mean, no one stays at their job forever anymore, right? And I only know a few people who have been at their jobs for more than a handful of years. And even if we managed to get new jobs "in London," commuting from the outskirts of SW London to north London, for example, would take forever.

I've been good, and played by the rules. I got myself an education, like you're supposed to; I've "paid my dues" by moving cities, states, countries, continents for different jobs and lived with the attendant social wreckage; I've started a pension; I've reigned in my spending; I've saved up money; I've been responsible. It seems only fair that Life should meet me half-way. Where's my guarantee, dammit?

Really?

I'm doing a volunteer work experience thingy, to keep me out of trouble. It's actually quite relevant to my career goals, so I'm lucky to be able to do it. At a meeting/mini-conference I was attending this week, I got chatting to a woman who said she was thinking of getting out of lab-based science. I asked her why, and she said it was because she was sick of working alone all the time, and wanted a job where she'd have more interaction with people.

Well. I was shocked.

I know that there's the stereotype of the mad scientist, all alone in his lab with his beakers and multi-coloured fluids, but, honestly, that's never been my experience. My experience is that scientists work in groups, usually small groups. I almost always had one or a few other people on a project with me, sharing ideas, hashing out problems, delegating someone to go out to get food while others watched the experiment. Even if, for some reason, I was working at an experiment by myself, I was always in a lab full of other people, or steps away from an office full of colleagues and workmates. I've never felt lonely in lab.

At one lab I was in, there was a guy who much preferred to work by himself. He was the sole user of a specific set-up and he didn't like having to work with others. (Now, mind you, this set-up was still in a lab with lots of other experiments, with people working and going in and out all the time.) It meant no one was ever sure exactly what he was doing; it meant he didn't share expertise; it meant those unfortunate new students or new workers who were assigned to work with him went on to other experiments pretty quickly. Among the other scientists, this person wasn't considered a great addition to the lab.

I find it hard to imagine working all by yourself, all the time, in science. Now, my experience is in chemistry/physics, so maybe it happens more often in other disciplines or sub-disciplines?

Food, glorious food...

So I took the opportunity while my friend was visiting to eat at a few places I liked, and a couple of places I've been meaning to try. I am unfortunately very bad at taking pictures.

First place: dinner at Canteen, at the back of the Royal Festival Hall. It's a small chain, and I've heard good things about it. They serve "great British food" or, alternatively, "Great British food". And it actually was quite good. This branch is right near Waterloo, so it'd be good for grabbing a bite before hopping on the train home.

Next up: a late dinner, after hearing the London Philharmonic, at the Anchor & Hope on The Cut (after snacky-type things all day, and, okay, I admit it, after I took us on a huge trek out to Cafe East only to find that it was closed, or closed for renovation). I've been meaning to try this place for ages. I guess it's gastropub, and it does beautiful down-to-earth food. My visitor and I had John Dory with salsify, and The Limey had braised venison shank. They were all absolutely lovely. We shared a table with three other people, and they had ordered the roast of shoulder of lamb, which arrived in the tray it'd been roasted on. It was accompanied by a whole tray of potatoes. The waitstaff arrived with carving knife and fork and a stack of plates and let them at it.
It was supposed to be for five people, but you could have fed twice that many. I don't know what they were going to do with all the leftovers. It'd be great to go there with a bunch of friends on a Sunday afternoon and just eat and eat and eat.

Next: lunch at Asadal, right next to Holborn tube (we walked to the British Museum afterwards). Korean food. They've got a good, quiet dining room and the food is always really good. I like their veggies, very fresh and beautifully done. There's an Asadal in New Malden, but I don't know if there's any connection. I want to try that one, too.

Next: dinner at Song Que. I love this place; it's at the end of a stretch of Vietnamese restaurants. I tell you, the masses of hipster youth you have to fight through in that area of town. Jeez. I had a seafood noodle soup (a seafood version of bun bo Hue) and my friend had a classic beef pho. Lots of greenery came with the huge bowls of noodle soup, and they did not stint on the meat. We also had a plate of soft shell crab. I haven't had soft shell crab in ages (The Limey is slowly getting to like seafood, but this is so far beyond him) and they were excellent. I would have maybe liked a little less batter, or a lighter batter. They were still great. I should also have ordered shrimp spring rolls, but in the hurry to order, I forgot. (The place was packed, and the waiters were rushing around like crazy.)

The only thing we couldn't fit in was dim sum. Well, that just means I can plan a dim sum outing soon.

This blog has been less than exciting lately, no?

Few pictures, no pictures of knitting, haven't done much of bloggable interest. Or even non-bloggable interest.

But I have a friend visiting this weekend, so maybe I'll get pictures of some of the things I love to do around London. I must remember to take my camera around with us. Although, he's an amateur photographer, so maybe I'll just rely on him.

What should I try for pictures of? Places I like to eat at? Yarn shops? London street scenes?

Would you get a matter/anti-matter explosion?

People, I have found the very antithesis of the yarn/knitting show: the beer festival.


Bright colours? No. Soft, fuzzy piles of pettable things? No. Women? Very few. You know how, as you approach a knitting show, you can almost feel the waves of estrogen emanating from it? Well, in this case, you can definitely smell the beer and testosterone fumes.

The Limey and I went to the 19th Annual Battersea Beer Festival yesterday. They took over the giant Battersea Arts Centre, with the hall filled with steel scaffolding holding the beer kegs. There was no attempt at any sort of decoration; the names and prices of the beers were written on pieces of A4 and stuck on the kegs; bare tables and folding chairs were set up wherever there was room.

Actually, it was quite nice. They had lots and lots of beers from British brewers, especially small ones, as well as a few foreign beers. You could buy in pints, half-pints and even third-pints. Unlike in pubs, where I'd never hear the end of it if I bought a half, here, everyone stuck to halves and thirds so they could taste more beers. It was truly filled with beer nerds. People carried around little notebooks and made notes on the beers they tried. The place was packed as the night went on.


I'd just like to note here that although I'm holding two glasses, I was only having a taste of The Limey's beer. I wasn't drinking multiple glasses of beer at once. No. Banish the thought.

It's still on for a couple of days- if you're in London, get yourself over to Clapham!

Am I to be bested by a few pieces of string and some sticks?

As you may know, my only new year's resolution was to do more colourwork. I have an idea I want to try and have been collecting colour cards and different yarns for it. Meanwhile, I did some practicing.

I've done two small colourwork projects before: the Endpaper mitts and the Squirrel and Nut mittens.

Now, I'm a continental knitter. I can knit English, although I'm slower at it. For my previous stranded knits, I knit with both colours in my left hand, always making sure the foreground colour is stranded under the background colour. I was reasonably happy with this- my stranding wasn't too tight, my stitches seemed to be even, and I managed to do both at a fairly good clip, although, of course, slower than normal knitting.

However, everyone is always going on about how the "best way" to do stranded knitting is to have one colour in each hand. I practiced this, and it was painful. My tension was terrible, my stranding uneven, the knitting slow and awkward. There is one plus: the yarns definitely didn't tangle up in an unholy manner, as happens sometimes with both yarns in one hand.

The problem, so far as I can see, is that, when I knit with both colours in my left hand, I use my right hand to do two things: manipulate the right needle to knit and to space out and separate the stitches on the right needle so that my stranding is loose enough. When I knit with one colour in each hand, my right hand is now asked to do three things: those above and to hold and tension the yarn. Apparently, this is too much for it. (For the record, I'm right-handed.)

I know there's no knitting police, and I should do whatever works for me, but I hate the idea of being beaten by this technique. In other "(falsely) binary" areas of knitting (magic loop vs. dpns, in-the-round vs. seaming, toe-up vs. cuff down, raglans vs. set-in sleeves, etc.) I definitely have my preferences, but I can do, and have done, both options. So I feel like I have experienced the pros and cons before I make my choice. In this case, I find myself unable, as yet, to do the two-handed colourwork.

The question is: do I keep at it, and -hopefully- get better, or do I go with using one hand and not let it keep me from starting my colourwork projects?

Or, to put it another way: How stubborn am I?

Watch out on the roads!

But not because of the snow, oh no, because of this:


I figured, what better way to spend some of the redundancy money and make use of my free time, eh?

Also, because I no longer wish to be limited to a "good" train line when I find my next job (this is, after all, what leads to having to live in horrible commuter towns), this will widen the geographical area in which I can look for jobs.

I've just had my first proper lesson and it went quite well. The instructor said I was very good at starting up and changing gears (maybe some of those friends' lessons did help!) and he was pleasantly surprised that I had no problems with driving on the left side of the road. I told him three years in Ireland and a year here has conditioned me to thinking that cars go on the left.

I'm not so good at the stopping, mind you, but then I do come from the land of the California roll.

Mmm...cake

There are a few foods for which I eagerly await. I am in so much anticipation for strawberry season, for example, that I can never stop myself buying the first punnet I see in the stores, even though it's April (or March, sometimes!) and I know they will taste sour. Or asparagus- there is nothing like British asparagus. As soon as I see bunches that haven't been flown in from Peru or Egypt, I snap them up. And fava beans! (Or broad beans, as they call them here.) It takes forever to de-pod and de-shell them, but by the Gods, they taste good.

So I'm always on the lookout for the stand-out foods of any time of the year. Unfortunately, in January/February, not much is out. Well, except for these:


Not very pretty, are they? They're Seville oranges. I bought a whole bag of ten for a couple quid, with absolutely no idea what to do with them. They're not very pretty on the inside, either:


They aren't eating oranges, although of course, you can't help but try some anyway, can you? They have a sour taste that goes on to become bitter. They also have an aftertaste that reminds me of something, but I can't think what. Maybe orange-flavoured liquers? That gives me an idea- you could probably steep a few slices in vodka; I bet that would be good.

Apparently, the thing to do with Seville oranges is to make marmalade. These make the best marmalade, I'm told. Unfortunately, I've never been a big fan of jams and marmalades. I gave The Limey the option of using them this way, but he declined, so off I went to look for recipes for these specific oranges.

Well, honestly, what's better than cake?

This recipe (scroll down) uses the orange zest for the cake itself, and orange juice for the syrup. It's lovely, and is reminiscent of Nigella's clementine cake, but with bite. I found that the syrup came out too runny to be called syrup, but I'm not complaining, because when you pour it over the cake, it absorbs it and the cake/syrup concoction becomes beautifully moist, but not mushy, although it's close. If I do this again, though, I'd add more sugar to the syrup.


This is not one of your light, fluffy cakes, oh no.