Hello September

Heavy rain fell on southeast Nebraska over Labor Day weekend. The coming week looks to be just as soggy. No matter, I had a lovely birthday weekend filled with phone calls, FaceTime, flowers, and many birthday wishes. My husband brought me a sweet red and white bouquet and the Connecticut team sent very September-ish flowers. My sister knit me a pair of beautiful cozy socks.

Our son, Aaron was here for his annual Fantasy Football draft with friends so having him was an extra treat. Although the weather was warm and muggy, he and I decided a soup supper was in order. We made a pot of chili and semmel, a family recipe for a German hard roll. Although the rolls are made from basic ingredients of flour, water, yeast, and salt, the ratio of flour to water varies with the brand of flour and the day. The best way to learn is to apply one's own elbow grease and experience the heft of the sticky dough under a wooden spoon. After the dough rises it is dropped in big clumps onto a well seasoned cookie sheet to bake at a high heat. The well seasoned, battered up cookie sheet is another factor in getting the outer crispness of the bread just right. Sunday was a good day for his semmel making lesson.

This hard roll comes down from my Dad's family. My grandmother and her sisters, as well as other cousins in the same community, stirred the dough up on Saturday evenings and then baked semmel for breakfast before Sunday church. I imagine Grandma Catherine learned to make semmel from her mother. These hardy rolls supported hard working farmers and their families. My Mom learned to make them and added poppy seeds to the top so I do the same. My siblings and families like them with soup or breakfast. My Connecticut grandchildren call them "Grammy Bagels." Every family member has their preferred topping - butter, cheese, jelly, peanut butter, or honey on a warm semmel. The second and third day after baking (if they last that long) they are a little tough but quite good when buttered and warmed under the broiler. Sunday evening, the three of us ate a few and I sent the rest home with Aaron. I didn't think to take photos but loved being shoulder to shoulder with him in the kitchen. He is a great cook so I have no doubt he can make these at home.

Sunday evening I finished two mitered blanket squares that will be part of two blankets for cancer patients. A number of bloggers are making squares. My skills in picking up stitches have improved since I knit one square twice. The pattern is a bit of a puzzle. I just had to trust and follow the directions and guess what? Designers know how to write patterns. This one is written quite clearly. The squares are blocking and may take a bit longer than usual to dry in this weather. After I weave in the ends, I'll send them to Kat who, bless her, is sewing them together and knitting the edging.

While knitting on the blanket squares, I listened to two Mary Russell mysteries, Locked Rooms and The God of the Hive. The mitered squares will forever remind me of this September weekend, stirring up semmel with Aaron, and the Russell and Holmes stories. This series by Laurie King, is a spin-off from the Sherlock Holmes stories. I have read some of them - out of order - as they were available from the library. I love the library but I get a little annoyed when part of a series is missing. I haven't read or listened to this series for awhile so it was fun to return. The series begins around 1915. Mary Russell, a smart independent woman, marries Holmes and together they travel the world, have adventures, and solve mysteries.

Yesterday I played around with a sweater swatch to no avail and then picked up mittens and knit on them. Someone can always use a pair of mittens. This yarn was to be part of a scrap blanket that I am not very enthused about knitting. The project has been sitting in the basket in a closet all year. I may reclaim the unused yarn for other knitting, most likely mittens and hats. The main color of the afghan isn't in my favorite palette of blue/gray/purple/sage green.

Linking with Kat and the Unravelers on this first week of a new month. Hello September.

Welcome to the Flock

The sun is shining and the temperatures are going to climb out of single digits this afternoon. Hooray. It will be nice to walk further than to the mail box and around the cul-de-sac. I am sitting in the corner of the love seat with my feet in a patch of warm sunshine and a cup of tea on the side table while I savor these mittens. They were a Christmas gift from my daughter. Like all knitted gifts, they are a love story.

One holiday break during my daughter's college years, I taught her to knit. Then she became a graduate student in physical therapy and married. She had little time for knitting. Eight years ago, when she was pregnant with her first son, she knit two toys, an elephant and a bunny. They were not uncomplicated projects. She finished the elephant but the bunny was missing one ear. Now she is a mother of three and little Jonah at 22 months found the bunny. He kept bringing it to her saying, "Mama, fix it." So in November when she came to teach for a weekend, she brought the bunny. Together we struggled over picking up the stitches. The instructions are designed to create a pleat in the ear. I helped her but we, mostly me, picked them up backwards so the ears are not symmetrical. Jonah doesn't care, he just wanted a bunny with two ears. She knit the ear. She watched You-tube videos while she made increases. She sat beside me and I showed her how to kitchener the top together.

Since she had nothing to knit on the plane ride home, I gave her a pair of needles, a ball of washcloth yarn, and a pattern. She wanted to knit some two color mittens like the ones my sister had made for her. I tried not to squeal with delight that she was interested in and had time for knitting. We talked about yarn and she ordered some before she left. I helped her just a little with the pattern instructions. Her first pair of color work mittens came in our Christmas package as one of my gifts. They arrived with a poem she wrote about knitting them. They fit, are extremely warm and so pretty. I was so touched by this gift. After she finished them, she ordered yarn for another pair. A good friend has asked her for a cowl so she has a project in her queue. She is a dear daughter and I am delighted to share knitting with her.

Meanwhile in Texas, my daughter-in-law made nine Christmas stockings on a knitting loom. She created the designs for these stockings. All the family members, including the dogs, have new matching stockings. Jacque has big heart and she is a wonderful daughter-in-law. She has driven me to several yarn shops in Fort Worth during our visits and patiently waited while I wandered around those stores. She crochets and is now creating designs for t-shirts. Two new knitters in one month! To them I say, "Welcome to the flock." May your fiber endeavors bring you joy, peace, and comfort.

As for me, I continue with my sweater - so far, so good. I should put the stitches on waste yarn and try it on. There are a few imperfections in the dye on this skein. I could have cut them out but decided to embrace what they bring to the sweater. There are plenty of other things to worry about in this world. I am listening to The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte. Some sources call it one of the first feminist novels. It is interesting that after Anne's death, her sister Charlotte prevented this story, a woman who eventually leaves an abusive mate, from being republished. I am reading a book of poetry, Rock, Tree, Bird, a gift from my knitting sister. It also came with a pair of beautiful color work mittens. The book is written by Nebraska's State Poet, Twyla Hansen. Hansen worked as a professional horticulturist and writes with a strong respect for the environment and her agricultural background. The poems are lovely to read on a winter or any other day. They are one antidote to the constant font of troubling news in our country. 

So as I join Kat and the Unravelers today, I wish you good knitting, good reading, and time to enjoy the sunshine.

Mittens

Early on Sunday afternoon a 24 hour rain began to fall. The temperature hovered at 33 degrees creating an ice covered landscape. By Tuesday the sun shone on a dazzling 27 degree day. Today promises to be warmer. I've been knitting mittens. I drank hot tea and imagined joining hands with generations of knitters, including my grandmothers.  

Our six year old grandson needs a bigger hat/mitten set. Although the three year old could wear the hand-me-downs, I won't send a set for one without including the other so I am in for two hat mitten sets. While I wait for the charcoal gray yarn for the six year old's set to arrive, I cast on mittens for the three year old. I like the recipe from Ann Budd's, "The Knitter's Book of Handy Patterns as it is a both/and mitten; no left or right. Kids can pull them on either hand as they run out the door. The first pair looked too big for M. so I cast on another, the next size down. Someone somewhere will need warm hands.  

Last week I knit these Align Mitts for my niece. She had admired the mitts I made from the same pink yarn for her Mom. This is another both/and pattern. Left/right mittens have their place, especially when they are designed with cables or stranded color work and I enjoy knitting those too. Left and right, right or left, mittens keep and extend warm hands. Either way the best mittens are those knit by hand.

The ice is melting. I can hear it falling from the birch outside my window. I am going to find my old warm mittens and go for a walk. While walking, I try to imagine stories and conversations of both/and instead of either/or. When I come home I'll have a cup of tea and finish the fourth mitten.

Winding Last September's Yarns

I am knitting mittens from Mountain Mohair yarn from Green Mountain Spinnery, a workers' coop which produces yarn with environmentally friendly methods. Although the company is located in Vermont, I bought this yarn from their booth at the 2012 Wisconsin Wool Festival.

Before knitting with the yarn, I needed to wind it into a ball. Since I don't own a ball winder or swift, I draped the skein over an old desk chair and wound by hand. The chair carries scratches from past moves, the fabric seat is stained, and the back sports a drip of pale blue paint from the most recent painting of my writing room. When I was nine or ten years old, Grama Dickinson placed her yarn over the back of this chair and showed me how to wind yarn. She also taught me to knit. After her death, I brought the chair and matching desk, which once had belonged to her mother Lucy, to my home. I now write at Lucy's desk (see an earlier post) and wind yarn from the chair.

Winding by hand takes more time than using a ball winder and a swift but I don't want more stuff in my house. When I draped this this skein over the chair, I recalled time spent with Gram. As I flipped the yarn over the back of the chair and pulled it through my fingers, I enjoyed the vivid blue color and considered other odd balls of yarn I could stripe into the mittens. I also noted this yarn was a little heavier and not quite as soft as Cascade 220 or Galway worsted yarns. Since Green Mountain Spinnery sources wool from New England sheep, the wool is sturdy and well suited to winter garments. The area sheep grew this fiber to insulate themselves from New England winters.

As the ball grew larger, I unwrapped the memory of attending the wool festival with my dear sister. We spent one day shopping and visiting with small independent companies selling yarn, fiber, books, and other fiber related accessories. We also enjoyed downtown Madison by eating dinners in locally owned restaurants and browsing a great independent bookstore,  A Room of One's Own.

For me, hand winding and hand knitting are time well spent. Knitting yarns spun from fiber of sheep, alpaca, llama, cashmere or mohair goats is my antidote to hard plastic chairs, styrofoam take out containers, and processed food. When I knit, my heart and respiration rates slow. My hands develop new muscle memory of the stitches. Depending upon the complexity of the project, I can learn new techniques, day dream about a happy road trip, recall stories about the women in my family, or figure out what to prepare for dinner. When I'm finished I have a warm and sometimes beautiful shawl, sweater, hat, mitten, or sock.

 The second mitten still needs a thumb but these mittens will be warm and bright on a winter's day.