Spring Garden, A New(ish) Cocktail, but not much knitting...

I just looked at the calendar. It's May. Howinthehell did that happen? Not only that, my anniversary and birthday are coming up, and Memorial Day, and we've been working on the yard, and...

...clearly, I haven't been posting about it.

Last first. Yes, I've done a little bit of knitting. It's the Cat Blankie, which is living up to its too cute name nicely. It's about 2/3 the length of my body at this point, and the cats are happy to burrow under as it continues.

Next: the cocktail. It's not really a new one--I just decided to ring a change on an Aviator (gin/lemon juice/creme de violette/maraschino). Regular gin is currently out of stock at the old booze cart, but I do have some Old Tom gin. And in addition to creme de violette, we have creme yvette.

Creme yvette is the ancestor of creme de violette. I don't have all the information, but I believe that it dates from Victorian times, as does Old Tom (slightly sweetened) gin.

Therefore, my "new" cocktail is the Steampunk.

Steampunk Cocktail

2 1/2 oz. Old Tom gin
3/4 oz. fresh lemon juice
2 -3 generous dashes Maraschino
1/2 oz. Creme Yvette

Shake briskly for a short time with clean, dry ice. Strain out into a cocktail glass.


The drink will be a strong rose pink, and a trifle sweeter than an Aviation. The Creme Yvette brings a nice floral/herbal aftertaste to the drink.

Speaking of floral and herbal:

These are a few of my favorite things

Silk stockings. Yes, silk. Still made today (for a king's ransom) but I wear vintage. Deadstock, if I'm lucky.

Rayon stockings. Cotton stockings (with silk clocks, even better).

I've been lucky this year, after a long run of not being so lucky. Old stockings are still around, but they're not always easy to find. This year and the second half of last year I've found 20s and 30s stockings.

About ten years ago I found a box of three pairs of 40s stockings. They were marked "service weight", which I think means that they were to spec for wearing while in uniform. I could be wrong, but in any case, they are amazing. It's been ten years and I still have all three. There are a few pulls or snags, but not a single run! Amazing.

Now, I don't wear stockings every day by any means, as some vintage enthusiasts do, but they still get a workout for special occasions. They're the right thing to wear, after all, with vintage dresses. And stockings are far more comfortable than panty hose--believe me!

It's not always a foregone conclusion that the stockings you buy, even if deadstock, will be wearable. Silk in particular is prone to drying out so badly that a run zings down the leg as you're oh-so-carefully easing on the first one (this usually happens, of course, when you're on vacation and don't have a lot of spares on hand).

Real stockings, like good socks, come in sizes. Your stocking size is not the same as your shoe size. It's closer to a rough measurement (in inches) of the length of your foot. They came in long and short and regular. Some had reinforced toes, fancy clocks, even hand-painted designs on the sides. Until the 1960s, they all had seams.

Stockings can be held up by a girdle, garter belt, or plain old elastic garters (if you're in a 20s mood, feel free to slide jazz garters on under the roll created by rolling the stocking top around the elastic garter).

They're correct, sexy, make your legs look better, and can make an outfit.

Just the same, there are days when I leave them off, like Gertrude Lawrence did (in the 30s, it was considered positively outrageous).

Not Knitting

The golf socks have stalled out for now. I started a "cat blankie" last night; just a simple lace pattern in charcoal worsted. It'll probably be as much a shawl (albeit rectangular) as cat blanket.

In other 20s-style hand-made crafts, see above. I made the headpiece over a two-week period. It's based on a French design from the 1920s, but is considerably more complicated...because I couldn't find enough pearl beads of one size to make it as shown in the illustration I had!

The base is black figured velvet, with some shaping. I made a paper pattern first, and backed it with interfacing. All of the bead work is done by hand (no glue, or pre-made sections). The pearls are glass bead pearls, and the finished piece is heavy!

I haven't given into temptation and weighed it yet, but I probably will one of these days.

It's the first one I've constructed entirely from scratch and I'm pretty well pleased with it. I've kept the paper pattern for other, similar headpieces.

(The photo is courtesy of Providence Pin-Up, and it was taken at a Chifferobe event this past weekend.)

Still working on it...

...it, because I am still on Golf Stocking #1. But the toe will be coming up soon, and then we go all over again. Luckily, I know that my husband will really appreciate these, so it's certainly worthwhile.

I am also working on a beaded headband for an upcoming event for Providence's Cocktail Week: the Chifferobe evening, this coming Saturday. It's got a way to go, even though I am using larger beads than usual. I hope it comes out well.

The next knitting project is something I haven't decided on just yet. A 30s suit might be nice, but I'll have to see if I have enough of any one yarn to make one. (A friend gifted me with a lovely Bakelite cape fastener, and it would look good on a knitted piece.)

It's spring, though. And for some reason, I want to knit lace in the springtime. There are a couple of beautiful patterns on the new Knitty issue, and I can always dig through stitch treasuries or old pattern books.

What do you like to knit in the spring? Any suggestions?

Newsflash: Spring!

...is FINALLY here. Or so it would seem.

Review: The Manual of Detection, by Jedediah Berry

This is a modern book: 2009. I beg your pardon. I mean, this book was written recently, but it will be around for a long while. If you're another who loves old books and classic literature, don't worry; I think you're going to enjoy this a lot.

Its roots are deep, and they reach into more than one place. In the acknowledgments the author says, "This book is dedicated to my mother, Maureen Berry Bliss, who is always looking for a good mystery."

Yes, it's a mystery. An elegant, intricate, noir-infused puzzler. It also reaches into science fiction, and fantasy; urban faerie, in a way. When you read it, you will probably find categories of your own. You'll probably find them because its author didn't limit himself to the painstaking categories that Charles Unwin (good name; you'll like it more once you're reading) once found completely necessary to a correct life.

Mr. Unwin is a clerk in an unnamed city. This city has echoes of Manhattan, New England, even, to my mind, San Francisco and upstate New York. It's a real city where the scent of the subway rises to your nostrils and the people who populate it go about their various businesses carefully ignoring the bustle--or quiet--surrounding them.

Charles's job has been his life for years, until he sees the woman in the plaid coat.

Then it begins...a whirlwind, inexplicable week or so of the impossible...or is it impossible?

The realities turn sideways, no one is the person he or she is supposed to be, and Charles finds the world upside down. In his efforts to right it and return to his safe, comfortable niche he finds more impossible things before next breakfast than Alice ever dreamed of finding out.

I'll leave it at that. I could not possibly explain it properly, even if I wanted to spoil it for you. Not only can Jed Berry weave a fascinating plot and strangely real people into an unreal but possible place, his writing is superb.

Treat yourself to a copy, mete it out carefully, in smallish doses, so it doesn't run out too quickly, and enjoy.

Golf Stocking

Singular. It will be plural...eventually.

I am still on the leg of sock/stocking #1 and have already begun on the second skein. Looks like there are contrasting heels and toes ahead; this yarn has been discontinued. )The sock is longer than it appears, as I have turned the stocking top down.)

Oh, and this is the color I'm calling "1930s Green". I'm told that it's also known as "Colonial Green". As real and faux Colonial were very popular in the 1930s I'm not surprised!

1930s Baby Blanket

This blanket was made for some vintage minded friends who just had a baby. It's FINALLY on its way. (Took me long enough, it's been done for quite some time.)

The pattern is from Bear Brand-Bucilla Manual of Knitting and Crochet, Volume 69 [1933]. I added the blanket binding for a more finished look. Yarn used is my favorite cone yarn stand-by, the same I use so often for socks (I think I'll probably cry when it's all used up).

Happy St. Paddy's Day

Yes, we're having corned beef and cabbage (braised in stout). Also, soda bread and potatoes.

No, the beer will NOT be green (see "stout", above).

I wish you and yours a happy one.

(Of course I'm wearing green. I'm Irish-American. And Catholic.)

Dr Who Continued

The Dr Who Scarf, (series 13) that is. It's verrry close.

That is:

*I finished the last row
*it's not yet bound off (we had a guest and he was leaving, so I got up and left the scarf)
*I still cannot decide what exactly to do with the fringe.

The recommendations online are simple, and a little thin in looks. But when my husband and I were watching the Tom Baker episodes I scored at the thrift shop I got a good look at the ends of the scarf. It appears to have very heavy fringe; at a guess, one strand of each color (seven in all) in each lark's head knot. There are probably seven or more knots in each end of the scarf.

I don't like making fringe. BUT. It's "absolutely necessary" for this one. So...I'm going to bind off, wash the thing, block it (not going to be fun, this) and then make the heavy fringes.

As I've said a time or two, it should be ready to wear by December!

One (pair) down, one (pair) to go.

I finished my own "stockings" and they've already been worn a few times. The above photo was taken about two weeks ago.

They're worth the time involved. And the tops themselves do a really great job holding the socks up. At first I also wore some stocking garters under the tops, but that was overkill, especially by the end of the day!

There are no increases or decreases in the leg, but I'd recommend them. My legs are slim, and though it works, they would be more comfortable if I'd used a few shapings.

The leg pattern is from Sensational Knitted Socks, and the tops pattern is Coral Lace, converted to the round, from Barbara Walker's second stitch pattern book.

I am now working on the pair for my husband. I had to re-do the tops in a larger size, even though I followed a pattern this time. I'm combining a pattern from one of my hardcover 30s knitting books with a knee sock pattern from the early 80s. The top is two-color, and the sock is all green. As I'm also making a pair of quick long socks for him from a self-patterning yarn, these golf stockings might take a bit longer to finish.

With any luck, I'll have evidence in a month or two.

Third Time's the Charm

Or, in this case, the stocking tops.

I haven't taken a photo yet, but hope to post one soon. Because finally, after three tries...

1. Adapt the pattern to the round, dummy. Oh, and turn the sock inside out, it's easier than knitting backwards. Really. (Dummy.)

2. No, same size needle with only a few stitches more is a bad idea.

2. Aha. Two needle sizes larger.


It worked. Even so, next time (and there will be a next time) I think I'll start the stocking tops first.

Those of you who don't knit (and also, possibly, those who do), "stocking tops" are fancy tops for knee-high or longer socks/stockings.

They're there to keep the stockings up, hide elastic or a garter (either elastic or knitted) and for fun. They also used to be a must for golf stockings.

And so, since my husband is as vintage mad as I am, he has been promised a pair of golf stockings, his with Fair Isle tops rather than lace. We found a gorgeous wool silk yarn in what I call 1930s green, which happens to match a vintage sweater vest he found last year.

Even with the greater size and length of knitting to contend with, I suspect this pair will be much easier.

Maraschino Cherries

I love cocktails. One of my particular favorites is Manhattan. A regular, a perfect, one with extras like orange bitters and a dash of Luxardo. The pit in the cherry, if you'll excuse me for putting it that way, is what passes for a maraschino cherry these days. Nasty.

Now, you can shell out $18.00 or so for a jar from Luxardo, but they're sweet cherries, and syrupy. I'm all for sour cherries...but they're difficult to come by, in or out of season.

On Tuesday I dropped by a local big box store and hit the jackpot. They had sour cherries in light syrup. This means that the cherries are still tart, and the "syrup" is more like cherry juice. We have a bottle of Luxardo, of course.

There are a number of recipes up on the web. The most simple is from the NY Times. In 2007 they recommended getting a jar of the same cherries I used today, and marinating them in Luxardo. Easy, but not quite the thing, to my way of thinking. I didn't want them to be so boozy that they would overwhelm a drink.

Luxardo Cocktail Cherries

(1) 24 oz. glass jar of sour cherries in light syrup
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup water (or juice from the packed cherries)
1 tbl. lemon juice
1 cinnamon stick
1 dash freshly grated nutmeg
1 tsp. vanilla
1 cup Luxardo maraschino liqueur

Combine everything except the cherries and liqueur. Bring mixture to a rolling boil. Reduce heat to medium and add the cherries; simmer for 5 minutes.

Remove from heat; stir in liqueur.

These can be simply stored in the refrigerator as is, but I chose to can mine. I used three 8 oz. jelly jars, and processed two of them for 20 minutes in a water bath; I put the third in to chill. They'll be gone soon enough!


I got a bonus from these canned cherries. The remainder of liquid from simmering with the cherries, added to some more lemon juice and the rest of the juices/syrup from the jar, was enough to make two 4 oz. jars of spiced cherry jelly. (Roast duck, here I come.)

Madhouse: Sorry

"Sorry seems to be the only word." "Being in love means never having to say you're sorry."

Popular word. And its application has many different uses, it would seem. (For the record I hope I'm never in a situation that applies to the first quote, and I really do not agree with the second one!)

Being sorry is difficult. It means letting go, and usually when one is in no mood to do so. And as often as not, the other party doesn't give a lot of help in the matter.

However, the most difficult part of saying "I'm sorry" is to encounter a recipient who doesn't give a damn--and says so--or, worse, says "It's okay, I forgive you." but doesn't mean that at all.

Sorry and I-forgive-you are a couple of those damned two-way streets you hear about growing up. The ones you're expected to drive without a license.

I don't know if growing up makes it easier, but it does grant more of an understanding of the words and why they are so important. Nearly every time the phrases are used they seem to give a little more understanding, even if it's very hard-won knowledge; maybe especially if hard-won.

Books

Yesterday was Sunday. That's usually a good brunch at home, and a leisurely persual of the NY Times. The Times is one of our luxuries.

We had champagne, French toast, bacon, juice...and instead of the Arts section, I grabbed the Book Review first. There are some good books in there this week. A new biography on Humphrey Bogart is out, for one. And the antiquarian book listings are always fascinating.

As I was reading it, I wondered: really, will real, hold-them-in-your-hands books ever leave us? Please God, no!

I can see that a Kindle is useful,especially while travelling, or using a knitting pattern. You can buy/download book texts that would be too expensive to buy in real copies.

But what about the books themselves? Has anyone ever read Helene Hanff's books...on books? 84, Charing Cross Road is not only a love story about people. She discusses the feel of a calf-bound book, its romance, the superiority to "the stiff cardboardy covers" of books in the 1940s. What in the world would Miss Hanff think now?

One of the best parts of my childhood was books. Libraries. Walking out with a stack so tall that I had to balance it with the edge of my chin...the luxurious, dusty, rich scent of books en masse in a building made for them. Will children born in the next few years have no chance to experience that? Life will be duller without those books, touched not only by other minds, but by other hands as well. (And cats. I'm always amused by sharp toothmarks in the corner of a book. Someone feline left His Mark as well.)

We belong to a private library, and spend a fair amount of time in the public library as well. Don't forget about them. If you haven't cash to support them, use your time and ideas. And ideals. Books are a luxury we can't afford to discard.

The Cat Afghan...I mean, Dr Who Scarf Progress

It's really coming along. The cats are very pleased; at this point it's an excellent length. Both of them can snuggle underneath as I'm knitting it above them.

In other knitting...it's annoying to make stocking tops after you've made the socks. Next time, tops first. But I'll come up with a pattern I like and get it done. A gift is nearly done, and I'm contemplating another 30s sweater, in more boucle yarn: cream, gray, and plum.

Betsy, Tacy, and Tib

This is to send my thanks to Maud Hart Lovelace (aka Betsy). I suspect I've got plenty of company in not only remembering those books fondly, but re-reading some of them on a yearly basis. I like her high school years onward, but the saga begins when Betsy is five.

Mrs. Lovelace, so the blurb in back of the books tells us, wrote these stories after telling them to her daughter, Merian. They're the tales of a girl in a solid middle class family in the Midwest (Minnesota) from the late 19th century into the beginning of the Great War.

They are a terrific introduction to the times, and more than just an escape. The writing is funny and charming and pulls the reader in to a world of comfort and privilege...but there are sad moments. She doesn't dwell on them, but parents of friends die too early, young hearts are broken, and the necessity of being good to other people (and some of the consequences, if you are not) are laid out for you, too.

These books have been in and out of print since the first was published in 1940. I don't know which, if any, are available in new editions, but keep your eyes open. Look in used book stores, antiques stores, and online used book sites.

It doesn't matter if you're 8 or 85, you'll find something to love in the Betsy-Tacy books (Tib is their the chum, she comes in after the first book), and it's also possible that you'll learn something about writing, and story telling, if you're a writer.

Madhouse: Shoes

Shoes. What about them? I'm no Imelda Marcos but I like them.

But as is often the case, my taste in them has changed somewhat. I remember pleading with my mother for a pair of Candies high heeled slings, only to be told that it was trashy to wear heels with pants! (This was in the dark ages...I mean, late 70s, folks.)

In high school I remember when she and a salesclerk talked me into a really handsome pair of burgundy leather slingbacks instead of the rather awful ankle strap shoes I coveted at the time. They were right. Classic is a really good thing. I wore those shoes all through high school and college...and beyond, until they literally began to fall apart.

So we're still with heels, but now classic. College mostly meant boots and tennis shoes and so on; I went to New England Conservatory after SCCC and walking around Boston and taking the T makes you fairly practical, even at 20 or 21.

Back to heels next, fairly classic. That continued for a while, though I developed a taste for silver shoes for formal wear, instead of black. (That trend continues...only now they're glace leather, not glitter!)

In the 90s I began to swing dance. Oddly, for a while that meant I started to wear absurdly high heels to dance in. Four inch heels and doing swing-outs? Sure, I'm still indestructible, I'm in my 30s! Eventually I went to lower heels, wedges, oxfords and the occasional vintage shoe in good condition.

This is what really cured me of very high heels, though, and it was only about 5 years ago. I was working in a downtown office and that day was wearing my brand new white stiletto pumps. When I say stiletto...I mean five inches high. Yes.

And on this day, the office jerk (there's one everywhere, as a rule) decided that I (the acting receptionist, not mail room clerk or delivery clerk or runner) would walk a mile across the area and make a hand delivery for him. Never mind the phones.

I damn near killed myself. (I had plans for him, too, but decided I didn't feel like finding out what my bail would be in the circumstances, though I knew that it would be justifiable...whatever-I-did-to-him.)

Now it's 2.5 or 3 inches for heels, lots of loafers and even ballet flats.

Haven't you heard? I'm a knitter now. How else can I show off my handmade socks?

Madhouse Post: Ugly

H'mm. For some reason, "jolie laid" is the first response that comes to mind; a woman so "ugly" that she is beautiful.

When I use the word "ugly" myself it does tend to the bad. I find it springs to mind when someone is being particularly nasty, unkind, selfish, or mean.

Just now I took down my copy of the Pocket Oxford Dictionary to find this:

ugly (adj.) Unpleasing or repulsive to sight; morally repulsive, vile, unpleasantly suggestive, threatening; formidable antagonist; ugly duckling person who turns out the genius of the family after being thought the dullard

Yes, that'll do for definition(s).

The Year of the Sweater?

It's mid-January, and I have two new sweaters of my own making. Admittedly, one was a UFO from last year, but the second was cast on, knitted and finished after New Year's Day.

I don't make many sweaters...I get bored and move on to another pair of socks, or some lace, or even a scarf. But lately I haven't found as many modern sweaters I liked, and though I have found some lovely vintage pieces they aren't quite scratching the sweater itch, if you will.

Last night I found myself wondering if I really did buy a cone or two of Shetland this past summer (don't think I did) and wondering why not. My 1930s knitting books seem more enticing than ever lately, and I keep thinking of cones of Shetland and eyeing the yarn I bought for the Dr Who scarf (safely underway now) and thinking, "Wouldn't that be great sweater yarn?"

We'll see what happens.

What projects are haunting you these cold winter days?