Jane Brocket's Blog, page 57

mrs moon

 

[my photo of supersoft, toe-warming cabled rug, pattern in The Gentle Art of Knitting]

I shall be at Mrs Moon 1-3 pm this Saturday, 11 June. There will be cakes, books (10%  off) and beautiful yarn (10% off the yarns I use in the book). Do come and say hello; Mrs Moon is everything you'd ever want in a local yarn shop and if you live in or near St Margaret's or TW-anything, it's on your doorstep.

location

 

[our garden in Dungeness: could be any Western]

I've often thought the job of a location scout must be brilliant. I wouldn't be interested in the nitty-gritty nightmare of actually booking, hiring, and using a location, but the idea of travelling around, cataloguing scenery, buildings, interiors and atmospheres for future reference and use is very appealing. My car (definitely an old Morris Minor) would be full of OS maps, Shell and Rough Guides, Pevsner, Betjeman and Piper, and I would never drive anywhere in a straight line, but would make detours to look at anything that caught my eye.

 

[Eleventh century church graveyard: could be gothic murder mystery/Hammer House of Horrors]
 

In fact, apart from the Morris Minor (which would break down all the time anyway), this is pretty much how we do drive around (or 'tour' as they used to say) when on holiday. We used to be able to do it with the children in the back, but teenagers aren't that keen on detours to look at old railway stations, writers' houses, pretty gardens, ancient churches, and settings for famous paintings. So they stay put while we rediscover the pleasures of location scouting just for the fun of it.

 

[Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway: could be Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?]

We found some excellent locations in Romney Marsh. In fact, many of them really have been in films, and others ought to be.

 

[St Clement's Church, Old Romney: actual Dr Syn]

 

[interior of St Clement's: 18C pews, painted pink by Disney and left that way after filming]

 

[Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch Railway: star of its own DVD, could be in a child's version of The Great Train Robbery]

 

 

[rain and Dungeness power station: could be the Kent version of It Always Rains on Sunday]

 

[Simon: could be The Lone Ranger]

And, of course, Derek Jarman's garden featured in several of his films.

 

[Prospect Cottage/garden: star of The Garden]

The joy of a British holiday: location, location, location.

wibble-wobble

 

A very wibbly-wobbly jelly that collapsed after being turned out of a new mould (too dilute to hold its spectacular shape) was turned into a 'fantasy jelly cocktail' with tiny chocolate hearts, mini M&Ms, sprinkles, silver balls, a dusting of iridescent glitter, and a straw.

Cheers. Here's to the weekend.

 

inspirational

 

We stayed just a few wooden, tarred, black cottages down fromProspect Cottage where Derek Jarman made his amazing against-the-odds-and-AIDS garden in the bleak, inhospitable and wind-blown shingle of Dungeness. This is a small, open garden (no fences, no obvious boundaries) filled with sea kale, cotton lavender, Californian poppies, viper's bugloss, gorse, cistus and many other tough plants that survive the wind, lack of water, and rabbits. It is so inspirational that we found we had three copies of Derek Jarman's Garden in the house: my own (bought in 1997, so it's only taken me 14 years to see the garden), the reading copy provided, and a complimentary copy for us to take away. But such are the book and garden's power and beauty, this wasn't overkill.

 

The text, I now see from reading more DJ books, is a reworking of the much denser and more detailed Modern Nature which is just as inspirational; the first two thirds of the book have some truly beautiful writing about plants and garden. So I read DJ's words, then walked down the road to have a look at his creation in a certain light, read more and went back as the light changed, and so on until I'd finished both books plus At Your Own Risk, and couldn't believe my luck in being so close, and surrounded by all the plants that DJ has taught so many people to appreciate.

 

I took photos, but nothing will ever surpass the photos of the garden and plants taken by Howard Sooley (which illustrate the book) who was there with DJ as he was making his garden and with whom he seems to have had complete synthesis of vision. (Plus I couldn't overstep the invisible boundary and go into the garden as I saw many visitors do, even though it's still a private garden, so couldn't photograph details).

 

The other joy of this end-of-the-world location (complete with huge nuclear reactor in the background) was the absence of computers and phone signals. I haven't read a great deal for a while, but the peace, the lack of distractions, the fact that the teenagers all brought exam revision and Simon brought his bike, plus the very highbrow selection of books provided in the house, meant I could read and read until my brain was about to burst. So I went intellectual with Roland Barthes (Mythologies), Susan Sontag and Geoff Dyer (on photography), Tolstoy (death and Ivan Ilyich), WH Auden (collected poems), Alain de Botton (architecture), and anything about Romney Marsh (eg John Piper who said it is '97% atmosphere' - very true). One book I didn't bring  was The Children's Book by AS Byatt, much of which is set in this region, but I felt one read of this was enough (and the shingle beach parts are far too dispiriting and depressing, unlike the fantastically angry, life-affirming DJ).

 

Completely inspirational.

gone to the beach

 

We are going to the seaside for a few days.

There will not turquoise sea. But there will be sludge brown/gunmetal grey/airforce blue sea with white horses (depending on the sky and wind).

There will not be busty mermaids basking, blissfully unaware of the sharks circling her. But there will be people lounging on sofas reading, blissfully unaware of the world.

 

There will not be bikinis on show. But there will be wetsuits for the (fool) hardy amongst us.

And there will not be tropical orange fish, but there will be fish 'n' chips and salt 'n' vinegar.

 

 Yes, it's a Great British Seaside Holiday.

[Cake by Phoebe, commissioned by a friend,  made after school one evening. I had to whizz to the local shop to buy more icing sugar and in the very short time I was gone, Phoebe had made the rather gorgeous mermaid and given her a fabulous figure and blonde-on-blonde tresses.]

my first pair of socks

 
 

This is my very first pair of hand-knitted socks. As in knitted for me, not by me.

These were knitted as a gift by Anna who came with beautiful baby Phoebe to the Loop book launch, and I was quite overwhelmed and very delighted with them. Anna wasn't sure if they would fit, and Phoebe was desperate for them to fit her and not me, but in fact they are perfect and therefore mine.

 

They are beautifully made with little garter stitch arrows on the soles, because they are knitted to Anna's own pattern for This Way Up Socks (free on Ravelry) which is a clever and witty way to knit socks from top to bottom then bottom to top , or the other way round if you prefer.

 

They also go with the beautiful little Milly-Molly-Mandy paper dolls that Ivy (aged 10) had made for me after reading Ripping Things To Do (she brought them on Saturday when she came with her mum, Lucy).

 

And they go with the Smarties left over from Phoebe's latest creation, 'Billionaire's Shortbread', ie millionaire's shortbread with Smarties on top. I meant to get a tasteful photo but it was eaten so quickly that I could only get a same-day, late night shot of it under attack.

 

 

 

australia

Must mention that The Gentle Art of Knitting will be published in Australia by Penguin in June. Sadly, there won't be a launch. (Just considering the possiblities it would offer for a Very Grand Knitting and Wine Tour makes me think there should be an Australian launch, preferably in a winery somewhere very beautiful like the Adelaide Hills or the Yarra Valley.)

launching books

 

Although Knitting is my sixth book (seventh if you count Spiky, which I do), I have never had a book launch. It has just never happened. Now, as I said to some people on Saturday, I don't exactly live a literary life; I don't drop names because there aren't any names to drop, I don't have a bazillion followers on Twitter (maybe because I don't tweet), I don't get invited to literary dos, and I don't get free books. So I never wanted a big brassy book launch anyway, but a small, friendly, cakey launch wouldn't have gone amiss.

 

Which is exactly what I got on Saturday at Loop. Loop is a wonderful place (it sounds daft but I didn't realise until Saturday that there is an upstairs as well as the ground floor and basement for classes. Duh, as the teenagers would say.) It's full of everything a good yarn shop should be: amazing yarns (obs, as the teenagers say), places to sit, books and magazines, beautiful knitted projects, and masses of inspiration. Very importantly, they also have knowledgeable staff who are passionate about knitting, and I don't know anyone better than Juju (who works there part-time) for advice, guidance and knitting knowledge.

Loop's owner, Susan, was on holiday, so Juju was in charge. She made the room look fantastic, and organised fabulous cake, scones and strawberries so that the table I was sitting at looked like a dream indoor knitting picnic. Phoebe and I brought cakes, and everybody else brought the atmosphere.

 

It was a lovely occasion. I met so many enthusiastic knitters and long-time blog-readers. I signed books and I talked (oh yes, I talked), and I enjoyed every minute of my Loop launch which has set quite a standard for future launches. Because now that I've found the way to have my sort of launch, I'm going to make sure there will be more.

Thank you to Juju and Susan and everyone at Loop for hosting and helping and making it all go smoothly. And thank you to everyone who came. I was quite overwhelmed by your interest,  generosity of spirit and kindness, and talking to you all is what made the event so special for me.

gentle crochet, too

  

[Art Deco Crochet Blanket in The Gentle Art of Knitting]

I know it's a knitting book, but there are times when you can't do things with knitting that you can do with crochet such as sit comfortably/slouch cross-legged on the settee/make  huge blankets without having serious shoulder problems from the weight on the needles/create textiles that look equally good on both sides. So, with the blessing of my broad-minded publisher, I included a couple of crochet patterns in the book, as I know lots of knitters move between knitting and crochet, and because the ripple ripple I began a few years ago was waiting to be reprised. This time I made a more zig-zag Art Deco/ziggurat design but it is is just as easy, flexible and open to personal interpretation as the original ripple blanket (very first version here). This one is crocheted with the ever-wonderful Cascade 220 (including various tweeds and heathers) and a 5mm hook, and I could happily play with this pattern using Cascade yarns for many years.

I'll be at Loop tomorrow from 2-4 pm with books, cakes, knitted projects, and daughters.

Thank you to Charlotte, Vanessa, and Karen for the very kind mentions.

early wimbledon cake

 
As if there isn't enough doom and gloom in the newspapers and on TV, it seems that Wimbledon could be facing a strawberry crisis this year. Notice I use the word 'could' and the article says 'may', not 'will' and  'is most definitely'; we live in an age of terrible scare-mongering, even about overpriced strawberries at a tennis tournament.

I like to strike while the iron is hot, make hay while the sun shines and lemonade when life gives me lemons (and go overboard on clichés once in a while), so when I had a very strong urge to make a cake this week, I decided to make an Early Wimbledon Cake with all the strawberries and cream I could find in the fridge. Not because I believe everything I read in the paper, but because sweet, slightly lemony sponge filled and topped with lots of whipped cream and ripe strawberries is a very good way to satisfy that urge. And it tasted better than any measly and expensive - and maybe soon to get a lot more measly and expensive - portion of strawberries and cream would ever taste at Wimbledon.