A Night in Connemara
Last weekend I went to Leenane for a night with Paige and the M.A. girls. I took a walk to a graveyard overlooking Killary Harbour, wrote, read, knit, and went for a wonderful dinner at the Blackberry Café. Then we stayed up late in the hotel sitting room drinking G&Ts. It was lovely!
It rained pretty much the whole time, but at least the rhododendrons were in full bloom.
I have told many people that I am on a yarn diet (at least until the fall), but there was one exception--I needed a few more balls of Kilcarra Aran Tweed for birthday/holiday presents, and I had a hunch the Sheep and Wool Museum (cum souvenir shop and tea room) would sell it for less (€3.25 a ball instead of €3.65, 3.75 in the city, which is quite a cheeky price actually). I went back to the hotel bar and gleefully told Paige I had yarn in my pants. Which was true. It was pissing rain, and I tucked the paper bag o' yarn inside my Goretex. (Please don't hesitate to tell me I'm crazy. Believe me, I know.)
Knitting Vintage Socks
Knitting from modernized versions of Victorian sock patterns might not sound all that exciting, but a classic design can be really cool with the right yarn. There are a lot of people on Ravelry knitting socks from Nancy Bush's Knitting Vintage Socks (several Ravelers seem to be knitting their way through it, pattern by pattern), and it's really neat to see a funky hand-dyed yarn paired with a pattern that otherwise might seem a little staid. I didn't use a hand-dyed yarn, but this shade of fuchsia is funky enough, don't you think?
Pattern: Gentleman's Socks in Lozenge Pattern (CO 60 stitches for a ladies' size 8 1/2)Yarn: Regia 4-Ply in kardinalNeedle: 1 1/2 (more like a #1...I stuck one of my Brittany wood double-points in a needle gauge, and it fit in the #1 hole)Raveled here.I bought several balls of Regia and Jawoll Superwash (both hard-wearing German sock yarns, for the uninitiated) at a craft store in Berlin, and when I showed Kelly my bag o' yarn booty, she drooled over the two balls of fuschia and asked if I could make her a pair. She was really excited to get them. They are funky-lawyerly, just like her.And here's my Mamacita's Mother's Day gift (also from the Berlin booty, photo taken just before she and my stepdad returned from Florida...the back lawn was a bit of a jungle):
Pattern: Gentleman's Shooting Stockings with Fluted Pattern (CO 66 stitches for a ladies' size 9 1/2)Yarn: Lang Jawoll Superwash, 1.5 skeins of petrolNeedle: 1 1/2 (same deal...this yarn stained my Brittany double-points, plus the fifth needle snapped in transit. Fortunately they've got a five-year guarantee!)Raveled here. One of my favorite sock FOs, partly because the color is just so rich. Must buy more online.
For the third project, I'm using yarn I picked up from This is Knit last spring. I tried casting on a couple of different sock patterns over the past year, but each time I decided I didn't enjoy the stitch pattern enough to see it through. This one is pretty boring (basically a rectangular checkerboard), but I know I'll get a lot of wear out of these, and that's enough to keep me knitting them.Pattern: Gentleman's Fancy Sock (CO 66 stitches for a ladies' size 10, decreased to 64)Yarn: Araucania Ranco Solid (colorway 483), 1 skeinNeedle: #1 (new Hiya-Hiyas I picked up at Woolbearers)Raveled here.The lesson I've learned with these socks has to do with the yarn. I had heard (after I balled this skein) that you shouldn't wind yarn until you're ready to cast on; otherwise the yarn loses its elasticity. I now know that this is true. The knitted fabric still has some stretch to it, but probably not as much as if I'd waited to ball it up. Oops.I love the look of the purl ridge used in the Lozenge sock pattern above--I used it on my St. Paddy's Day socks, and on these socks with a 3x3 rib as well. Of course, I realized midway through that 66 stitches wouldn't jive with the P2, K2 / P2, K2 pattern (if the round starts with P2, it has to end with K2, and with 66 it ends in P2), so I decreased to 64 (usually you're supposed to increase after the ribbing so it stays snug, but I wasn't about to frog this yarn again).Anyway, Knitted Vintage Socks is an awesome book. Excepting a few lacy ones, most of the patterns are suitable for anyone; it's just a matter of casting on an appropriate number of stitches. Definitely one of the most useful books in my pattern library.
Springtime in Tipperary
This past week I visited Seanan and his family in Tipperary. The weather was perfect, and we went for several wonderful afternoon rambles. Above: chive grass in Bán's garden (we ate some of the heads, which tasted just like onions); tussling with Rory in the garden before walk #1.
Because it was Sunday, we were able to go along a new dual-carriageway under construction. We scuttled through a drainage pipe, which was eerie and fun--made me feel fourteen again. This overpass is a popular spot with skateboarders, hence this silly pose.
The next day we went for a walk in the hills near Seanan's house.
A bluebell wood, a babbling brook, and plenty of sunshine--heavenly!
The walk on the third day was shorter, since we were going to see Coraline in the evening. (Highly, highly recommended, by the way. I liked it even better than the book.)
St. Patrick's Well.
The Bishop of Hell
Catchy title, eh? Alas, I cannot take credit for it. I came across Marjorie Bowen's The Bishop of Hell by way of E. Nesbit's excellent Grim Tales (a.k.a. The Power of Darkness)--they're published in the same series by Wordsworth Editions, Tales of Mystery & the Supernatural.
Despite this thread of cruelty, there are several stories that leave you feeling uneasy in a pleasurable way, as in all the best gothic tales. There is romantic revenge and murder, and revenants aplenty. In my favorite story, "Kecksies," a man who'd sworn to have the wife of his enemy lies dead on a pallet in a remote cottage. The enemy arrives, decides to play a trick on the small group of mourners, and dumps the body in the brush so he can take its place under the shroud. You can guess where this one is going, but what a thrill! The prose is so much fun--"The clouds overtook them like an advancing army"; "his naked chest gleamed with ghastly dews." Even in this memorable tale, though, there's not a single character you can get behind...not even the poor rejected dead guy.I don't usually place much stock in Amazon reviews--I tend to find them more useful after I've read the book, as in this instance. The lone review of The Bishop of Hell echoes my feelings quite neatly, noting the "heavy current of bitterness" that runs through the collection. According to the book's biographical note, Marjorie Bowen, a.k.a. Margaret Gabrielle Vere Campbell Long, "spent the early part of her working life providing for a demanding and ungrateful family." So it seems the series editors and/or critics felt the need to provide at least a partial explanation for that all-too-noticeable "current of bitterness."It may sound like I'm giving The Bishop of Hell a lukewarm recommendation, but you'll really enjoy these stories if you're in a certain frame of mind. E. Nesbit's gothic tales are perfect for a melancholy evening (as Victor Hugo said, it's the pleasure of being sad), whereas this collection is just the thing when you find yourself hating the world and nearly everyone in it. Nothing like an unrepentant scoundrel coming back from hell wearing a mitre of fire to make you feel good about the state of humanity, eh?
The Muppet Sweater
Back in November I made reference to my first-ever sweater attempt. In the beginning, unless you have a LYS (local yarn store) with good customer service and lots of nice yarn and supplies to choose from, chances are you will be looking for yarn at a "big box store" (Jo-Ann, Michael's, A.C. Moore). Most of the yarn at the big box stores is acrylic blend--decent choices for charity or baby items, but not so much if you're looking to make a really nice sweater, shawl, or whatever. The short of it is, I didn't know any better back then. I picked a novelty yarn that looked and felt oh so snuggly, and paired it with this pattern from Knitty. This was the hilarious disaster that ensued:
You've just read my defense, but still...what the hell was I thinking?!This 2/3-finished (and how did it even get that far?) Muppet Sweater has been living in a yellow plastic bag in my closet for the past three and a half years. I only took it out recently to frog it and ball the yarn up to donate to charity (speaking of which, if any of you knitters out there have yarn, needles, etc. that you're never going to use, consider mailing it to a school in Manhattan. Full details in the Craftlit show notes.) So I donated it, but of course I just had to take a picture of it first, so that I can look at it whenever I need a good laugh.
A Child of the '80s (or, What a Nerd Am I)
Remember these?
Grover's puppy doesn't want to do tricks.
Yes, I actually put the camera lens to the eyepiece. That's what a nerd I am. My only defense is that Brendan has been rather obsessed with his "Sesame Street Fever" album lately...
Open-Faced Tacos (Meat-Free!)
Here's a recipe for the ultimate comfort food. (What is it about refried beans that makes me want to eat them straight from the can?) This was inspired by an open taco salad I had at Tonic while we were visiting Kate in Washington, D.C.
four medium potatoesone large oniontwo bell peppersone or two red/green chilisone can refried beans3 cloves garlic1 tsp. cuminsalt and peppera few tablespoons olive oilsoft burrito shells (wheat or corn)one jar spicy enchilada saucevegan sour creamshredded vegan cheddar cheeseone package of soy mince or braised tofu (optional--or those of you who are omnivores could, of course, use the real thing)
Dice potatoes, onion, peppers, and chilis. Saute potatoes on medium-high heat for ten minutes or so, then add remaining vegetables and cook until soft. Stir in diced garlic and spices, then add mince/tofu if using. Preheat oven to 400º. Add refried beans and mix thoroughly, lowering heat.Glaze burrito shells with olive oil on both sides, and bake in oven until golden and crispy (10 minutes or so). Spoon filling onto shell, top with sauce, sour cream, and grated cheddar, and mash it all in so the cheese melts. (I've tried putting the finished taco back in the oven before serving, but if you do that the shell won't be crispy anymore.)Makes four tacos (serves two). NYOM NYOM NYOM!(Note: this recipe was veganized on August 19, 2013. Updated photo forthcoming.)
Contest winners! (and another vintage jumper)
Thank you to everyone who took the time to leave a guess! The guesses were mixed, although I bet that if I'd given you a good look at my face, pretty much everyone would have known her straight away. My grandmother is the young lady on the top left.
Clockwise, from top left: Dorothy (my grandmother), Joan, Patricia, Marjorie, and Mary. Special thanks to Betty Ann for giving my Aunt Eileen a copy of this photo in the first place, and for taking the time to write such a nice comment. I never would have guessed my grandmother was only seventeen or eighteen when this picture was taken--she looks so sophisticated with her red lipstick and chic dress! Her expression is kind of intense, too.I had originally said that the first three to guess correctly would win a book, and then I thought I would make it five to keep the fun going a little longer. But it's been a week now, so I think I'll just leave it at three. Chris, Emily, and Geri--ding, ding, ding! Geri opted for Mary Modern in hardcover, and Chris and Emily are going to wait for Petty Magic. Thanks again to everyone who left a guess--it made me so happy to get so many comments and compliments! I think I'll do another little contest in the near future...a riddle, maybe?So I think I've caught the vintage knitting bug. Check out this classy jumper:
It's another British pattern from the early '40s that a kind Raveler, celester, passed along. I'm using RYC Cashsoft 4-ply in Monet, a muted lavender. I found the perfect plastic pearl-like buttons out of my grandparents' rusted candy-tin (my grandparents on my dad's side) to fasten up the neck. I also picked up a new pair of #2 Addi circulars at the Brooklyn General Store yesterday for the ribbing. (I love this store--huge selection of yarn, gorgeous quilting fabrics, and great customer service!)But first I'll be working on this hooded shawl from Twist Collective for my friend Shelley, who's getting married in Westport, County Mayo, on December 29th. This is the first time I've ever knit a wedding gift, let alone a piece that will be worn in the wedding, and I'm a teensy bit nervous...Next blog entry--a recipe!
Little March Hare jumper, and a contest!
It's finished! HOORAY!
Knit from Rowan RYC Cashcotton 4-Ply (chartreuse, 6.5 skeins) on #2s and #3s, lovely pale green iridescent buttons from Hickey's in Galway, and too many froggings and modifications to mention. Knitting from a vintage pattern is even more challenging than I expected--apparently the young ladies of sixty-odd years ago were built like paper dolls, because a person would have to be two-dimensional to fit her head through the tiny hole that's supposed to be a neckline. At any rate, it was well worth all the math and tinkering I did to make this jumper fit right. Squee!
(Links to previous Little March Hare post, Ravelry project page.)
I was knitting the first sleeve at the family kaffeeklatsch one Saturday morning after Christmas, and my aunt and uncle were interested to see what I was working on. When I showed my uncle the pattern, he remarked that it looked like something my grandmother would have worn. Then somebody remarked on how most women's wardrobes back then were much smaller, but all the articles were of higher quality and would last longer than today's garments generally do. So with that in mind, I'm going to make a little contest. My aunt Eileen gave my mother a framed copy of this picture last Christmas:This is a rare photograph of my grandmother with her four sisters. They were separated among relatives--and later foster families--after their mother's death, so this studio portrait would have been a major occasion. Can you guess which of these lovely young ladies is my grandmother? Leave a comment with your guess (I don't mind if you take into account what other people have guessed). The first five people to guess correctly will win a signed copy of any one of my three books (your choice, of course): Moon Ireland, Mary Modern (hardcover or paperback--the paperback edition has an additional essay at the back), or the forthcoming Petty Magic. (If you choose Petty Magic, you'll have to wait at least six months for the galley, but I like to think it'll be worth the wait.)I was going to give you a good look at my face, but I think that would make it way too easy...
I'll have to think of another contest for the majority of people who read this blog (i.e., people who know which girl my grandmother is because a, they are related to me, or b, they're a good friend and have seen her portrait on my desk.)Now guess away!
Barna Wood
(A view from the prom, at the start of our walk.)
One of my favorite spots in Galway is Barna Wood, which is the closest thing to an enchanted forest I've ever seen. Gnarled old trees, gurgling streams, great mossy rocks, the ground carpeted with dead leaves, a glorious hush...it really is a magical place.
It's only a half-hour walk (perhaps less) from the promenade! Just keep walking west, turn right at the caravan park, make a left back onto the road out to Spiddal, and keep walking 'til you see the entrance on the right side of the road.
In Despair, or in Cahoots?
They've been called "the drinking man's Coldplay," but Elbow are in a league beyond that much more famous British pop/rock band. (As Brian Boyd wrote when Elbow won the Mercury Prize last year for The Seldom Seen Kid: "A band such as Coldplay will happily confess to you that they put filler on their albums in the knowledge that there are enough big, anthemic songs around the filler that no one will really notice or care. Chris Martin has fessed up to 'borrowing' from Elbow's Grace Under Pressure song to help him with the writing of Fix You." Listen to those two songs one after the other, and Coldplay's debt becomes remarkably obvious.)So please, let me indoctrinate you into the greatness that is Elbow. Here's a link to a BBC video Brendan's sister Aileen posted to Facebook yesterday:Oh, kiss me like the final meal / Yeah, kiss me like we die tonightDoesn't it make you feel happy to be alive?Music can really inspire me when I write. It sets the mood in a scene, of course--I used plenty of Nina Simone lyrics in Mary Modern, and my Petty Magic heroine sings a wistful Berlin cabaret tune, Irgendwo auf der Welt ("Somewhere in the World"), during a pub session. The best lyrics inspire as well, perfectly evoking a scene with only a handful of words. Take these lyrics from Fugitive Motel:
Curtains stay closedBut everyone knowsYou hear through the walls in this placeCigarette holes for every lost soulTo give up the ghost in this place
It's all there--the despair, the isolation, the claustrophobic shabbiness of a highway lodge advertising cable TV and ceiling mirrors in every room.Or take this single line from Switching Off:
Early evening June, this room and a radio play
Can't you just see the fluttering curtains, the trees outside casting dancing shadows on the unmade bed? Can't you just feel the cool breeze wafting through the window and the tinny voices coming from the radio on the dresser? The character in the song re-lives these memories so vividly that it puts the listener there in that moment as well. Switching Off has another of my favorite lines:
You, the only sense the world has ever made
You can see why this music makes me want to be a better writer.
The Ghost of Anne Boleyn
Have I mentioned lately the trove of wonders that is Charlie Byrne's? You never know what interesting old tome you'll discover. Awhile back I found Haunted Britain by Elliott O'Donnell, published in 1948. Seeing as the only copy available on Amazon.com is going for $101.75, I figure the €8 I paid for it is a bargain. It's a charming old book, and I thought you might like to read some of the highlights. This is from a chapter entitled "The Tower of London Ghosts":
A very ubiquitous and restless ghost is that of Anne Boleyn. In addition to haunting Hever Castle and Blickling Park, down the long avenue of which she rides once a year in a hearse-like coach drawn by headless horses, with her head in her lap, she periodically haunts the Tower of London.
She was seen there as recently as February 1933. The unfortunate being who saw her was a guardsman on night-sentry duty near the Bloody Tower.
He was standing motionless amid his gloomy surroundings, no doubt wishing to goodness his time there would end, when, with startling suddenness, there appeared before him, seemingly rising from the ground, a white something, shadowy and indistinct. It was not until it had approached nearer to him that he saw to his horror it was the luminous figure of a headless woman. He promptly fled. The post being well known to be haunted, he was merely reprimanded...
How a headless ghost, seen at night, in inky surroundings, by scared-stiff sentries can be identified as the beautiful Anne Boleyn is somewhat difficult to explain. The only warrant for the belief would seem to be that of the proximity to the place where the hapless queen was incarcerated before her execution.
Seemingly easier of identification is the ghost that, with its head in its conventional position, haunts the Church of St. Peter ad Vincula, where Queen Anne Boleyn, Queen Catherine Howard, and Lady Jane Grey were all three buried.
A certain captain was one evening going the rounds when he saw a strange light in this church. Much astonished, he asked the sentry on duty outside the church the meaning of it.
"I don't know what it means," the man replied, "but I've often seen the light and queerer things of a night here."
Determined to ascertain the cause, the officer procured a ladder and, mounting it, peered into the building. What he saw thrilled him to the marrow. Slowly down the central aisle, with noiseless tread, moved a procession of men and women in Elizabethan costumes, headed by a lady who reminded him very strongly of portraits of Anne Boleyn. After having repeatedly paced the chapel, the procession and light suddenly vanished. Then, and not till then, did the gallant captain fully realize that what he had seen was not of this earth.
April Fool's
According to the Chambers Dictionary of the Unexplained, April Fool's Day may have originated with the introduction of the Gregorian calendar. Those who had gone along with the change--celebrating New Year's on the first of January--"began to make fun of those who persisted in celebrating New Year's Day on 1 April because they either had not yet heard of the change or stubbornly refused to adopt it...over time this evolved into a general tradition of playing tricks on people and sending them on fool's errands on 1 April."The entry also offers a few traditional dos and don'ts. "Any joke or trick must be played before noon; after that, it is said to rebound on the trickster. Anyone who takes an April Fool's Day joke in bad part is thought to risk bad luck, while a more optimistic belief holds that if a trick is played on a man by a pretty girl, he will be compensated later by her marrying him. Getting married on 1 April is not recommended for men, however, because it is believed that a man who marries on this date will be ruled by his wife from that day on. It is also said that children born on April Fool's Day will enjoy good luck in most respects, but will be disastrously unlucky gamblers."Lastly, the entry mentions a BBC documentary on the "Swiss Spaghetti Harvest" that aired on April 1, 1957. In a black-and-white photo, a girl plucks strings of spaghetti that are hanging from a tree. She is admirably stone-faced. (Click here for the original clip on Youtube. Spaghetti weevil! Bwahahaha!)
Bobbed Hair and Bathtub Gin
Marion Meade's Bobbed Hair and Bathtub Gin follows the amorous adventures and professional struggles of four iconic women writers of the 1920s: Edna Ferber, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Dorothy Parker, and Zelda Fitzgerald. The brisk, gossipy prose is perfectly fitting; as Meade writes in her acknowledgments, "The jittery rhythms seemed to suit the lives of my subjects."Dottie Parker was the greatest wit of them all, but she was also chronically depressed, making several suicide attempts and telling perfect strangers at her favorite speakeasy all the lurid details of her spoiled love affairs. Zelda Fitzgerald was the prototypical flapper, a pampered Southern girl who gave her early stories to her husband to be published under his name. The responsible, hard-working, commercially successful Edna Ferber inevitably seems rather dull in comparison.Edna St. Vincent Millay, whose work I'm most familiar with, comes off the least sympathetically of the four writers. According to the author, she slept with as many as three men (or women) a day and tossed her lovers aside like yesterday's undies, conned a small publisher into giving her a $500 advance for a novel she basically had no intention of writing, failed to return a typewriter that belonged to the Red Cross (which a former lover had only given her on loan)--the Red Cross, of all places!--and treated her sisters and mother with a great deal of callousness. Of "The Ballad of the Harp-Weaver" and Millay's family's reaction to it, Meade writes:
The ballad depicted not just the outlines of Cora's struggle--certainly nothing was made explicit--but her ideas, her experiences, the essence of her being. It was piracy so surprising that she was incapable of replying for three months. Kay, always alert to shady motives in her sister, was aghast. "I cried when I got that poem," she said afterward, thinking Vincent had no right to use such painful family experiences and pass them off as her own. "Years of hard filthy labor on her part--and you get the Pulitzer Prize for such a pretty song you made of it."
Meade's account of Millay's life during the '20s paints the poet as a classic narcissist; one of her friends planned to write a piece of thinly-veiled fiction about a poet-genius with an "inability to love anybody or anything but the secret guarded image of herself." I'm not much for poetry, but I've read and admired Millay's for several years now, and until reading Bobbed Hair and Bathtub Gin I knew next to nothing about her life. This is an issue that occasionally troubles me. When you hear something distasteful about a writer's personal life, how does that affect your reading of their work? Is it at all relevant? I'm not talking product-of-their-times kind of flaws; I'm talking the sort of shenanigans that contribute to common stereotypes and misapprehensions about what it means to be a writer--the alcoholism, mental illness and suicide attempts, infidelity, promiscuity, general recklessness and outrageous selfishness. (And yet there are other details that are no doubt relevant to a writer's body of work--I find it odd that Meade never mentions any of Millay's many homosexual relationships. She mentions some nude photographs taken with the wife of Millay's longtime friend Arthur Ficke, but that's pretty much it.)Another all-too-colorful character is F. Scott Fitzgerald, whose drunken buffoonery, emotional coldness, and financial abandon are thoroughly recounted here ("...he scribbled obscene words on the walls of an opera singer's villa and kicked over the tray of a woman selling trinkets outside the casino.") He generally regarded his daughter, Scottie, as a nuisance (though Zelda wasn't much better). Meade describes the early meetings of Fitzgerald and Hemingway in Paris, and how Hemingway was appalled by the elder writer's misbehavior. "Being around him for even a short time could make a person weep with frustration."On the other hand, it's fascinating to read of all these literary friendships and associations, and how this motley cast of journalists, poets, playwrights, actors, novelists, publishers, and posers all impressed and influenced one another. The book is organized by year, not by writer, so you get a great sense of who's lunching (or sleeping) with whom while so-and-so's book has just been published to rave (or rotten) reviews, meanwhile the other one's hiding from the creditors in some broken-down villa on the French Riviera, and so on. Back then, a writer could wire her publisher asking for an advance on top of what she'd already received, and her editor would send the money with no questions asked. Those were the days, huh?It's also interesting to note which titans of the day have long since fallen into obscurity (Elmer who?), and which widely-panned works are now considered classics (like The Great Gatsby). And I always find it amusing when these writers, who were then in their twenties and thirties, proclaim themselves (and each other) hopelessly 'over the hill.' Dottie Parker in particular was obsessed with writing about death and dying:
It costs me never a stab nor squirmTo tread by chance upon a worm."Aha, my little dear," I say,"Your clan will pay me back one day."
(Titled "Thought for a Sunshiny Morning.")For better and for worse, these writers shaped what it means to be a modern woman, and a modern woman writer. Reading about their lives, loves, and work makes me feel a certain longing: for an artistic circle (backbiters and all), an unlimited supply of bootleg scotch, and an apartment in the Village for fifty bucks a month.
Fine weather, part two
We spent last weekend in Carrick. It was Mother's Day on Sunday, and Brendan's nephew's birthday, and I also spoke to a creative writing workshop on Saturday morning. This particular workshop uses the Amherst Writers and Artists methodology, which makes for a more supportive environment. (I skimmed parts of Pat Schneider's excellent book, Writing Alone and With Others, and will soon be picking up a copy of my own. More on this in a future post.)Here's the title page of a slightly older book in the O'Brien family library:
Cool, huh?On Saturday evening we went to Kilkieran Cottage, an adorable restaurant with this lovely view (I took this picture from the car park):
Within that graveyard are the Kilkieran high crosses, which I must visit in daylight the next time I get down there. Kilkieran is just over the border in Kilkenny, a 15-minute drive from Carrick on Suir. I'll be writing up Kilkieran Cottage in the second edition--the food (I had the mushroom and asparagus risotto and the rhubarb crumble) was delish and the service was very good. (You can see the cottage in the background of the top photograph on the Megalithic Ireland page I linked to above.) I have a soft spot for gourmet restaurants in the so-called middle of nowhere...makes a good meal feel that much more special, don't you think?On Sunday we took a walk through Seskin Wood, on a hill overlooking town, river, and pasture.
Gorse bushes may be common enough, but the sight of all those cheery yellow buds always makes me happy.
Fine Weather
Look what lovely weather we had last week!
The Spanish Arch/Claddagh area gets pretty crowded on sunny afternoons.I wish I could tuck my head under my wing and glide along in calm water on a warm day...what a way to take a nap.
More photos tomorrow.
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Wow, is it a gorgeous day in Galway! Spring is here at last. Everybody was out walking the prom this afternoon, wearing big goofy green hats and tri-color feather boas and eating ice cream. I sat on the strand at very low tide and wiggled my bare toes in the wet sand. Forgot how good that feels!Here's how else I celebrated Paddy's Day:
These are socks for a Ravelry contest--the Irish-themed project with the most 'love' clicks wins a huge stash of yarn (including a kilo of Kilcarra, which is one of my favorites). Tá áthas orm means "There is joy upon me" in Irish (so I guess these socks just say "joy upon me"). They're my reminder to count my blessings in these uncertain times.
I used sock yarn I picked up in Munich in December—Wolle Rödel, really inexpensive, a great value—and knit these socks using bits I remembered from other patterns. I cast on 60 stitches, did a purl ridge twice during the extra-long ribbing, and increased to 64 stitches for the colorwork at the ankle. Decreasing back to 60 stitches before the heel flap, I just knit a 'vanilla sock' until 8 or so rounds before the toe decreases should start. I had charted the words in an Excel spreadsheet, and that worked out well. I did a checkerboard pattern around the back to carry the yarn, trapping the second strand where necessary, and started the dark-green toe earlier on the right sock since the letters weren't as tall. It was quite an easy project, considering I was more or less designing them on the fly!
Ravelry link (with more photos) here.
Tick Tock
How many more novels do you think I can write in just under fifty-one years?
You know what's kind of (additionally) creepy about this? One summer in high school my mom took Kate, me, and a few of our friends to New Hope, where we had our fortunes read. The palm reader asked me if I wanted to know how old I'd be when I died, and naturally I said yes, and guess what number she gave me?Seventy-nine.Guess how old I'll be in 2060.
The Best Ghost Story I've Ever Read
One of the best, for sure. It's "The Affair at Grover Station" by Willa Cather, and you can read it here. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.I found this story in The Virago Book of Victorian Ghost Stories, which is certainly worth seeking out. Another deliciously eerie story in the collection, Rosa Mulholland's "Not to be Taken at Bed-time" (find it here, PDF link at the bottom of the page), contains some very compelling descriptions of Connemara. The plot is loaded with witchcraft, love-charms made from corpse-flesh, and pacts with the devil, yet none of that is quite so haunting as the sea and landscape:
The sashes were open, and nothing was visible but water; the night Atlantic, with the full moon riding high above a bank of clouds, making silvery tracks outward towards the distance of infinite mystery dividing two worlds.
Granny Weatherwax knickers
My new novel is about witches (and spies), and while I was writing it I read either WWII/occult research or fun witchy fiction. Wyrd Sisters and Witches Abroad are my two favorite Discworld novels so far—Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg are terrific fun.When I saw the Witches' Britches pattern in Knit2Together, I wanted to knit a black-and-red-striped version I could see Granny Weatherwax wearing. (The Flickr link above is Kat Coyle's striped version, which is my favorite on Ravelry.) The perfect lounge pants!Here's my swatch:
Knit Picks Swish DK in bordeaux and coal, US 6 needles, 6 stitches/8 rows per inch.I'm definitely going to go with the thinner stripes. I didn't get gauge, nowhere near it, so I'll have to tinker with the numbers. I'll most likely end up using size 5 needles, so I need to knit a second swatch.- - -
'Baths is unhygienic,' Granny declared. 'You know I've never agreed with baths. Sittin' around in your own dirt like that.''What do you do, then?' said Magrat.'I just washes,' said Granny. 'All the bits. You know. As and when they becomes available.'--Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad