Sunday knitting

I began with an autumnal desire for a new, warm, woollen wraparound shawl.

Then I found 15 balls of pink mohair in the local Op shop. A bargain, even though pink is not a colour I would usually wear.
I bought thin, long needles (size 14, steel and 50cents from the Creswick Op shop) and cast on as many stitches as would fit. Either I'd knit it sideways or longways, just depending on how wide it turned out to be.

By now you can guess that this was to be a project of pleasure and ease. I like to knit just as some people like worry beads.

If I knitted 3 rows purl and one row plain I thought I'd get a nice ridged effect, just like a sea shell, and I wouldn't worry if it was occasionally 4 rows of plain - not too formal, natural looking.

It began to look good - and I thought of an extra nifty trick. When I get to the right length I'll cast off, pick up the stitches all down the side and knit out in the other direction - more intriguing texture. I thought I'd invented this trick, then found it outlined in my new sock book as a way to do part of the sock heel.

I thought I'd invented my purl /plain stitch pattern too, but here it is in this beautiful knitting blog, Brooklyn Tweed . Read the post of April 2010 the Romney Kerchief.  I could never knit like this - what an eye for colour and texture! How do people plan such clever and elegant patterns - and knit them so beautifully?

Anyway, maybe I'm not the only person to think of this pattern, but I don't think anyone else will be knitting it quite in my way.

Saturday

There were Williams, Packham and Corella pears. I bought these deep red ones called D'Anjou because they had the heavenly sweet scent that proper pears have. And they were delicious, there are none left.

Different points of view

I was going to l'espresso Friday morning to get a morning cuppa (this cafe is my favourite in Ballarat). It was just on 8 am and since I had my camera I took a picture of the crane on the fountain by the Base hospital.

Changes as as I move around the dry fountain.

The frogs around the basin are the best!

Hillside house

Here's another lovely old Ballarat house that has resisted being done up .

You have to walk right round it to really appreciate it.

Turn the corner.

See that window - you'd be almost underground in there.

But the back verandah looks right over the tree tops, as the hill dips down very sharply.

Knitting

This cold winter weather seems just right for silk and wool work.

Now that it's deliciously cold and wet and grey I've covered the couch with cosy rugs and got out the knitting. Last year I learned to knit beanies and made 18 of them. This year I started on a a shawl of fine pink mohair wool found in the Op shop and a  rug of soft, white, wool squares. These are being knitted to my own designs (plain & purl and no decreasing).

Then madness struck. I found some last year's knitting mags for 20 cents apiece and saw patterns for SOCKS. And I had leftover wool in a mandarin orange colour - just right for the season.

But the sock patterns in the magazines were written in a foreign language (sl., k, incr, patt) so I got a very simple sock book with a picture for every stitch (just about). And I will knit socks. At least two.

I may never get up from the couch.

Winter rain and winter pleasures

A weekend of cutting and ironing and tacking. Playing with squares and rectangles. Pulling out the baskets and boxes and finding more colours and textures I want to use.
Blissed out with colour.
Watching the rain.
Sewing things together, unpicking, more sewing. Having  fun.
Watching the rain, drinking ginger tea.
Reading about the early archaeologists working in the ruins of the old Mayan cities.
Should I quilt in Mayan glyphs? Or the last autumn leaves?

Tapa and tea trays

The Ballarat art gallery is showing an exhibition of Tapa cloth from the Pacific.  The exhibition comes from Queensland which has some very old pieces of tapa cloth - with the permission of the relevant communities. The tapa in the exhibition comes from Fiji, Tonga, Samoa and Niugini  and I think also Vanuatu, and some is made by families living in Australia.

 A collection of the traditional tools and materials accompanied the various cloths.

I have a few treasured bits of tapa rescued from Op shops and now I know that my piece (above) comes from Fiji.
The tapa reminds me of the tea tray cloths I also find in Op shops. A shared idea of honouring a guest or occasion by covering an everyday object with a beautiful cloth.

The fragment of lace I found last week harmonises well with the tapa.