Spring visits
When it wasn't pouring down over Easter weekend, it was lovely.
And happily I spent one whole day, when it was beautiful out, in Wokingham with Earl Paul and Lady Anne. They'd made time for me in their weekend when I told them I was on my own at Easter while Robert was away slaying orcs.
I love visiting with them; we can putter together, browse through books, and they eat like kings (or like a lady and earl) all the time - it's not a special occasion, it's just how they choose to shop, cook and eat. I always feel spoiled when I'm at their house.
Their days are full of plans right now; they've found the perfect house, but in order to buy it they have to wait for the seller to find somewhere to move to - this is part of the Great English Tradition of House Buying: The Chain, whereby everyone is waiting for someone else's house buy to go through.
Their buyer is of course waiting on them in turn...
Oddly I never remember this happening in my first homeland. If you end up stuck with 2 houses because someone's deal falls through, tough - make an appointment with your bank. Sheesh.
So right now, the plans are still talk and paper ideas, for changes to the new place. But my goodness, if it goes through, it'll be glorious, glorious indeed.
At any rate - we breezed through Waitrose, their local library (a *really* nice one - a reflection of the neighbourhood I think) and then a cuppa before going for an Easter walk in what Anne called the bluebell wood.
I could see why: it was gloriously full of bluebells, just before their peak but still wonderfully blue-bell-ish, that not-quite-purple, not-quite-blue shade that defies paint chips.
We walked about for a couple of hours, chatting and taking the air. Other walkers and cyclists were out for the same reason.
Back to the house for a late lunch, and for Paul to put on a roast dinner while Anne and I sewed.
She's working full tilt on a new doublet for Paul - full Elizabethan with all the twiddles, with quilted lining and crazy trim plans. She was complaining she didn't have enough embroidery floss for the buttons because wood-core thread buttons just eat floss for breakfast.
I used the afternoon for UFOs.
I finished a couple of knitted 16th c hats - they're now fulled and their brims are as firm as they'll get.
Anne has asked me to make her one! so I'm pricing Shetland yarn towards making some 16th c flat caps and hats. I'll have to pay attention to the shrinkage and fulling, not just take my chances. You take pains for others you wouldn't bother with for yourself!
I also, rashly, offered to knit Paul a jumper; he complains he just can't find big colourful jumpers (aka sweaters) anymore. On the strength of this I've ordered a couple of (used) Kaffe Fassett books, for, ah, research purposes.
Ah, the 80s...
I don't expect to make one exactly as shown, but will bring them along and ask him if he has any preference, and exactly what his yarn budget is(!).
In the evening I also took apart one fabric hat that goes with my 16th c German gown, in the hopes of redoing it so it fits properly, with a brim that is firm but not rigid. I didn't have the heart to take it apart right after making it, even though it didn't fit, because I'd put so much work into it in the first place, and it's just sat there.
Frankly, knitting hats is waaaaaay easier - but I have to find the ideal Goldilocks brim solution for them. My cardboard seems either too soft or too hard.
Anne whipped up the gravy for the roast chicken, using some real verjuice we'd found in the market near our old place; real actual verjuice, from sour grapes, not crabapples. It made the most amazing gravy ever.
I slept like a rock. It was lovely.
The trip home was long - missed the right train, had to change, was delayed, people were jerks on the Tube. Fortunately I had a very attentive kitteh at the other end of the trip, or else I might not have left Wokingham.
And happily I spent one whole day, when it was beautiful out, in Wokingham with Earl Paul and Lady Anne. They'd made time for me in their weekend when I told them I was on my own at Easter while Robert was away slaying orcs.
I love visiting with them; we can putter together, browse through books, and they eat like kings (or like a lady and earl) all the time - it's not a special occasion, it's just how they choose to shop, cook and eat. I always feel spoiled when I'm at their house.
Their days are full of plans right now; they've found the perfect house, but in order to buy it they have to wait for the seller to find somewhere to move to - this is part of the Great English Tradition of House Buying: The Chain, whereby everyone is waiting for someone else's house buy to go through.
Their buyer is of course waiting on them in turn...
Oddly I never remember this happening in my first homeland. If you end up stuck with 2 houses because someone's deal falls through, tough - make an appointment with your bank. Sheesh.
So right now, the plans are still talk and paper ideas, for changes to the new place. But my goodness, if it goes through, it'll be glorious, glorious indeed.
At any rate - we breezed through Waitrose, their local library (a *really* nice one - a reflection of the neighbourhood I think) and then a cuppa before going for an Easter walk in what Anne called the bluebell wood.
I could see why: it was gloriously full of bluebells, just before their peak but still wonderfully blue-bell-ish, that not-quite-purple, not-quite-blue shade that defies paint chips.
We walked about for a couple of hours, chatting and taking the air. Other walkers and cyclists were out for the same reason.
Back to the house for a late lunch, and for Paul to put on a roast dinner while Anne and I sewed.
She's working full tilt on a new doublet for Paul - full Elizabethan with all the twiddles, with quilted lining and crazy trim plans. She was complaining she didn't have enough embroidery floss for the buttons because wood-core thread buttons just eat floss for breakfast.
I used the afternoon for UFOs.
I finished a couple of knitted 16th c hats - they're now fulled and their brims are as firm as they'll get.
Anne has asked me to make her one! so I'm pricing Shetland yarn towards making some 16th c flat caps and hats. I'll have to pay attention to the shrinkage and fulling, not just take my chances. You take pains for others you wouldn't bother with for yourself!
I also, rashly, offered to knit Paul a jumper; he complains he just can't find big colourful jumpers (aka sweaters) anymore. On the strength of this I've ordered a couple of (used) Kaffe Fassett books, for, ah, research purposes.
Ah, the 80s...
I don't expect to make one exactly as shown, but will bring them along and ask him if he has any preference, and exactly what his yarn budget is(!).
In the evening I also took apart one fabric hat that goes with my 16th c German gown, in the hopes of redoing it so it fits properly, with a brim that is firm but not rigid. I didn't have the heart to take it apart right after making it, even though it didn't fit, because I'd put so much work into it in the first place, and it's just sat there.
Frankly, knitting hats is waaaaaay easier - but I have to find the ideal Goldilocks brim solution for them. My cardboard seems either too soft or too hard.
Anne whipped up the gravy for the roast chicken, using some real verjuice we'd found in the market near our old place; real actual verjuice, from sour grapes, not crabapples. It made the most amazing gravy ever.
I slept like a rock. It was lovely.
The trip home was long - missed the right train, had to change, was delayed, people were jerks on the Tube. Fortunately I had a very attentive kitteh at the other end of the trip, or else I might not have left Wokingham.