yarnstorm

I am enjoying

Knitting socks with a ball of yarn that looks like a big dollop of nougat.

Watching the leaves fall like confetti - but with a rustling sound.

Admiring the foresight of the people who planted the trees in the suburban road I drive down every weekend to take Phoebe to the river.

Julia Child by Laura Shapiro. A small, compact book which somehow conveys the huge personality and many achievements of a very tall woman.

Wild Swim by Kate Rew. Simon and I are swimming outdoors every weekend while Phoebe is on the river. I admit we manage this because it's a heated pool. Lovely book, great recommendations for places to swim, including our pool.

Watching Austin Healey dance. Trying to convince Tom that jiving is a good alternative to rugby. Accepting it's unlikely he'll agree. Watching him play rugby instead. Being delighted for him now that he's a county player.

Enjoying a slice of coconut cake while I work.

Hearing about Alice's work experience. My, she's learned a lot about real working life this week.

Watching Friends with Phoebe. It's what half-term is for.

The prospect of the weekend.

wonderful weekend stuff

I've written before about Elspeth Thompson and her inspirational gardening columns and books. After giving the matter some thought and analysing why I value what she writes so highly, I've decided that it's all because of her incredibly good taste. I'm not talking about an ability to spend money or shop well, but an ability to discern and detail what's lovely, important, life-enhancing and worth cultivating.

This taste, combined with good sense, is what defines her new book The Wonderful Weekend Book: Reclaiming Life's Simple Pleasures. I've only had a chance to skim its pages as I am saving it as a treat to read (appropriately) this weekend, but already I know I'll love it, use it and keep going back to it.

I notice that there is a nice, tasteful little colour scheme going on with my weekend books. I received Kay and Ann's exuberant, warm and witty book a little while ago when I was ill and it cheered me up no end. I love Kay and Ann's zest and inventiveness, and sometimes wonder what the insides of their minds look like. Like two huge, crazy, colourful, unravelled balls of yarn, maybe?

(I was also intrigued to see that the ball of yarn on the cover looks just like one of my rock buns - photographed when I was unwell - or maybe that was just my fevered brain? Or maybe my own brain looks like a rock bun...) 

Moving now into an alternative colour theme for the weekend with the last, fragile hydrangea flowers picked from the garden when I realised that the cosmos and fennel were fading today (top)...

...I'm also looking forward to some colouring-in (and some pencil-sharpening, judging by the look of Tom's pencils). I have discovered the best colouring-in books ever: the Rosie Flo books. They are simply brilliant, with clever ideas, exquisite lines and delightfully dotty details, and just enough left out to inspire and enable the colour-inner to develop them in unique ways.

Of course, I adore the Kitchen book (I also love the Garden one) with its baking-paper style inserts and some of the most covetable culinary clothes imaginable. These books are ideal for anyone, no matter what age, who likes a little doodling and colouring.

And finally, take a look at one of the alternative covers for my own book on Melanie Falick's blog. It uses a photo I took a while ago and has a suitably mellow, weekend feel with that delicious Koigu yarn, those pink grapefruits and that gentle sunlight.

Hope you have a wonderful weekend.

make mine a triple

I find myself doing a sort of September stock-take. It must be the squirrel in me, reviewing the summer, making plans for my hibernation and gathering good things to see me through the coming months. This is why September is one of my favourite months.

I wouldn't necessarily go for a triple measure with gin (only when it would be rude to refuse...), but I have been counting in threes when stock-taking. So here we are, the best triple measures of the summer and the season to come.

three books

The highlight of my summer reading has been dove-grey. I've read quite a few books but three stand out and they all happen to be published by Persephone Books. Miss Ranskill Comes Home was, without doubt, the most unusual and intriguing of all. I'd had the book on my shelf for a while, but it was because I was reading the Worzel Gummidge books (by the same author) that I decided to look at it. It's wonderful (as are the WG books), touching, full of human understanding and very funny in places.

I listened to the dramatisation of The Crowded Street on Radio 4 last summer and determined to read the book (which I'd known about since my intense Vera Brittain phase more than 20 years ago), so was delighted to see that it was soon to be published by Persephone. It's brilliantly observed, uncomfortably recognisable even today, biting, and yet hopeful.

I also reread The Making of a Marchioness. It was like going back to the time I read Little Lord Fauntleroy as a child except that this book has an adult protagonist. Dare I admit I loved LLF? The book made a huge impact on me, not least because I couldn't stop crying every time I thought about LLF. The Marchioness story is a fairy-tale for adults, and even though I could see the methods of the author quite clearly, I was swept away by the narrative and the humble heroine.

3 films

When I watched Manhattan for the nth time recently I was utterly amazed to see that it was made in 1979. Good grief, it doesn't seem to have dated at all; somehow or other Woody Allen managed to avoid the fashion disasters of the 1970s and it's actually difficult to place the film unless you happen to have followed Diane Keaton's wardrobe over the years. And it never hurts to hear the Gershwin soundtrack. Wonderful, funny, and totally neurotic.

Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day at the cinema was a Sunday afternoon of peach silk underwear and art deco style escapism complete with a big bag of Maltesers and a large frothy coffee. Liberties have been taken with the book and accents, but it was pure light entertainment.

I can only take so much Hitchcock. I find The Birds and Psycho unwatchable because they frighten me so badly but I really like some of his earlier, less terrifying films. The Lady Vanishes (1938) is about as much tension as my palms and knitting can stand plus it has the added bonus of plenty of train scenes (cf North by Northwest, Strangers on a Train etc).

3 blogs

I only discovered yesterday via Melanie Falick's blog that Heather Ross has a blog. I love Heather's style and fabrics and now see that she can write, too. Hers is a wonderfully observed world, full of quirkiness and humour and many little touches of natural beauty. I also found out that STC Craft will be publishing a sock-knitting book - yippee. Maybe that will wean me off the only pattern I ever use?

Anna Maria Horner also has a very distinctive textile and writing style, but it's very different to Heather's. This is why I enjoy reading my favourite blogs - you don't have to choose just one and you can simply enjoy the diversity and riches and the glimpses into talented people's worlds. Anna Maria's life is full to the brim of colour, like her stunning fabrics, and I love the way she writes about her children.

3 shops

When it comes to sock yarns I'm like a squirrel with its nuts and I like to have a few balls stashed away in case I run out. Quite by coincidence, three lots of sock yarns were delivered today and I temporarily went into a mild state of euphoria. Gill at The Woolly Workshop has a great selection and her customer service is brilliant. I bought the yarn for my first pair of socks from Web of Wool and still think they are an excellent source. And I check the huge range at Modern Knitting regularly because it is often updated with new colourways soon after they've been launched.

The trio of yarns above come from a fourth place, one I only discovered this week, but I'm not saying anything until I've knitted with them. Except that I am dying to see how they work.

3 things to look forward to

A weekend course at West Dean in spring next year. Nothing to do with textiles, something I've never done before, something I can't wait to try.

Tulips. The first bags of bulbs have arrived and just the words 'Daydream' and 'Sorbet' and 'Ballerina' give me little shivers of excitement.

The UK publication in February next year of the paperback edition of The Gentle Art of Domesticity. It's good to know the book is staying around.

It should be a happy hibernation.

palpitations

(my latest sock knitting)

Well, blow me down. Knock me over with a feather. Strike me pink. What a response.

All week I've been reading your wonderful, enlightening, warm-hearted, enthusiastic, funny, positive comments about your favourite domestic activities. The sheer number of replies has ensured I've had palpitations every time I've looked at the blog. And, oh my goodness, you've shown that there are so many lovely ways to enjoy yourself at home, and I love the fact that it's often the simple, little things that give the greatest pleasure and bring the most poignant moments of happiness.

As I was really quite ill last week (feeling better now but could still be knocked over with a feather) your comments were even more greatly appreciated. They made me want to get better quickly and get back into the joys of domesticity.

So now I leave it to Laura at STC Craft to do the honours and send out five copies of The Gentle Art of Domesticity. I do hope the recipients enjoy the book, and I want to thank absolutely everyone who joined in and left a comment - and gave me palpitations.

(One small thing: as I've been doing an impersonation of Elizabeth Barrett Browning on an invalid's couch all week, I haven't been able to work or get on with email and it's going to take a while for me to catch up with everything, so please forgive my lack of correspondence.)

a fair exchange

(vintage embroidery)

Now this is a first for yarnstorm: a giveaway. Having never done anything like this before, I feel unsure as to the protocol (if there is such a thing), so I'm just going to go ahead and do it the yarnstorm way and make it a way of celebrating the delights of domesticity.

STC Craft have very kindly let me have five copies of the US edition of The Gentle Art of Domesticity to give away here. The offer is open to all readers, no matter where in the world you are, but please be aware that this is the American edition so the recipes in the book have been converted to American measurements, and there's a new index and that beautiful cover.

(sock possibilities)

I have to admit I hummed and haahed for a long time about how to do a yarnstorm-style giveaway. As the person least likely ever to enter a competition or contest because I can never come up with clever responses quickly, I didn't want to do anything difficult or off-putting, and yet I feel there should be a fair exchange for five free books. After driving poor Simon crazy with questions which he couldn't answer easily and immediately and honestly, I suddenly asked him the simplest one I could think of: 'What's your favourite domestic activity?' Quick as lightning he answered, 'Eating rock buns'. And I knew I had my fair exchange question.

(Phoebe's stitching)

If you'd like to be in with a chance of winning one of the five free copies of the book, all you have to do is leave a comment below with your answer to the question:

'What's your favourite domestic activity?'

And, if you feel like it, you can tell me why.

(quilting possibilities)

The comments box will be open for one week and will close at midday GMT on Monday 1 September. Laura at STC Craft in New York will then pick five winners at random, contact them by email for their postal addresses and mail the books. In the meantime, I'll enjoy finding out about your favourite domestic activities.

what i did on my holidays

When I was little I dreaded the return to school, mostly because I knew I would be faced with that old chestnut of an essay title,'What I did on my holidays'. My mind would go a blank and I would be totally unable to make any sort of story or narrative out of the previous six or seven weeks.

So when I decided to have a holiday from the blog, I wanted to make sure that the same thing didn't happen, that when I was asked or, more likely, asked myself, 'what did you do on your blog holiday?', I'd at least have some sort of meaningful recollection.

When I visited Chartwell in June, I found a lovely illustration of what I was trying to do. The photo above shows a single window, like an eye, set in the wall of a terrace looking out over the vast and stunning Kent countryside. It frames and focusses the view perfectly.

Then, as I walked around the gardens, I suddenly saw the same window from the other side and now at the top of a very high wall, and was surprised how different it looked covered in creeping ivy and so unexpectedly small. It made me think how important it is not only to observe and view but also, occasionally, to turn your gaze in a different direction and look at life and yourself from a different angle.

When I younger I was really only good at seeing out, which is why those essays were such a torture. But writing this blog has changed the way I look at things, and even though I was on a break, I often found myself reviewing what I'd observed or made or read and composing posts in my mind. And it was amazing how much this practice of trying to look from a different perspective, articulating my thoughts, finding words, capturing moments, made all sorts of little events and pleasures so much more significant and meaningful.

I'd also decided to keep a very limited diary - really just a few words. At the end of each day, I noted down the things I felt I'd achieved or enjoyed, so that by the end of the 'holiday' I had pointers and signposts and milestones instead of a vast wilderness of lost weeks. Saturday 21 June, a fairly typical day, included: making recipes from the (wonderful) Ottolenghi Cookbook book for a meal with friends, finishing laying out a quilt, making bread in an old Hovis tin, listening to Bob Dylan on the radio, watching the beginning of Meet John Doe (with a breathtakingly beautiful Gary Cooper - how did I ever miss him up till now?), reading more of Miss Ranskill Comes Home (highly recommended, excellent book). And picking a jugful of pale, peachy-yellow roses - perfect for the longest day. Maybe not as expertly grown as the roses at Chartwell (below), but incredibly lovely, nevertheless.

It wasn't really a holiday, of course. I was still busy with the children, school then school holiday stuff, work, and all the minutiae of daily family life. But it's amazing how a change of viewpoint is as good as a rest. As they almost say. 

criminal tendencies

Every few years I go through a criminal phase. But only vicariously.

I'm not a regular reader of crime fiction, but I do enjoy a killing & detection spree from time to time. I don't like to mix and match my authors and detectives, so tend to read a number of books by the same person in a short space of time. And then stop. In this way, I've got to know the likes of Raymond Chandler, Michael Dibdin, Sara Paretsky, PD James. When I've begun to recognise their patterns and idiosyncracies and stylistic tics, I feel I've had enough of crime and return to a more law-abiding fictional world.

It's no coinicidence that these phases usually happen during holidays. I've learned over the years to expect the unexpected when I'm away from home. I take a pile of carefully pre-selected books and then find myself distracted by a discovery in a local bookseller or second-hand bookshop or in a rented house. This year Middlemarch was top of the to-read pile. Ha. I soon sank much lower than that - or so I imagined - all the way to Agatha Christie.

My interest was piqued before the holiday, though. In July I attended one day of the In the Loop knitting conference (more on that another time) and listened with great interest to Dr Jo Turney's paper on 'Deadly yarns and knitted fictions' which looked at the knitting mysteries by authors such as Monica Ferris, Mary Kruger and Maggie Sefton. But it was the great aunt of them all, Agatha Christie's Miss Marple, whose knitting caught my attention, and the way in which she uses it as a fluffy smoke-screen, a red herring, a misleading clue to her real, hidden character.

So when I arrived in Aldeburgh all ready to do business with Dorothea and Mr Casaubon, I'm afraid I was sadly lacking in staying-power and abandoned them in favour of Jane Marple and Hercule Poirot. I found some wonderful old green Penguin editions which are a real pleasure to read and raced through The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, The Body in the Library, 4.50 from Paddington, Crooked House, Murder on the Orient Express, the Complete Miss Marple Short Stories.

In the middle of all this murder and mayhem and Marple, I also read the recent biography of Agatha Christie by Laura Thompson and have to say it's the best biography I've read for a long time. I like biographers who manage to convey something of the inner life and creative impulse of their subject, and LT does a brilliant job. The book also makes it clear just how incredibly clever Agatha Christie really was.

I know she's not everyone's idea of a good read and that she falls into the trash category for many, but there's something so clear and simple yet cryptic and mystifying that I found myself full of admiration for someone who does what she sets out to do so well. I find I am constantly wrong when it comes to predicting whodunnit, and yet I think I've spotted all the clues. Her books are like crossword puzzles or mystery entertainments, and if you can accept them at this level, then there's a great deal of satisfaction and enjoyment to be gained.

So, in fact, I don't think my fall from fictional grace was as complete as I first thought. I should know by now to expect the unexpected.

another helping of cherry cake

I'm looking forward to what promises to be a lovely Cherry Cake and Ginger Beer event in Abingdon, Oxfordshire, organised by Mostly Books (New Bookshop of the Year 2008) on Saturday 23 August. It's to be held at The Broad Face, a pub renowned for its wonderful puddings and cakes. Just right. Please see the Mostly Books website for more details.

booking ahead

In the course of the next twelve months I'm going to be making a pile of quilts. A big pile of quilts. Because I have been commissioned to write a book on quilts and quilting. Just the thought of working with wonderful fabrics like this makes me very excited, although I know there will be times when I wish for Rumpelstiltskin-style speed and skills when turning my piles of fabric into a pile of quilts.

I can't answer any questions about publication date or contents or any other aspect of the book, but this news does explain why there has been a lack of quilting posts recently (I'm saving all my quilting thoughts and projects for the book).

And now I'm taking two of the quilts to the seaside to hand-quilt. I booked ahead, and we're off on holiday with a carful of children, books, bats, balls, bikes, needles and thread.

delistcious

 

I had great fun choosing my top 10 favourite food moments in children's literature for the Guardian blog. (The list includes Paddington Bear's buns and cocoa elevenses - with the buns as above, I like to imagine.)