Friday, May 21, 2010

Stripe Five embarked upon – good progress. Current plan is to knock off the preemie jacket for the Games next.

Jeanne and FiberQat, thanks for the pointers to Maria Erlbacher’s “Twisted-Stitch Knitting”. (The link is to Schoolhouse Press.) I have held back because I’ve got the three German books of which it is a translation. They’re pretty clear, and there was a time when I had German up to reading-knowledge standard, so I think I could puzzle out any passages I wanted to if I set myself to it.

On the other hand, I see – looking it up just now – that Meg claims to have augmented the technique section “a bit”. And it’s not very expensive. Perhaps…


Rosesmama, I am proud to report that I sowed the sorrel myself, a couple of years ago. I didn’t expect much, as perennial seeds tend to be a bit more reluctant to germinate than annual ones (which can be stubborn enough…), but up it came. And up it comes again, first thing each spring. And it’s delicious. Boil some new potatoes you’ve just dug from your plot, toss them with butter and shredded sorrel leaves until they wilt. Ambrosial. That’s from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. Who, incidentally, is one of the authors on the list of the agency granddaughter Hellie now works for.

I realised as I unpacked and put everything away yesterday that I have left three pears on the kitchen windowsill in Strathardle. Maybe it was what is called “Freudian”, because I’m going to have to go back and get them. I think I have probably mentioned here before the time I left a banana in that same position. The field mice of Balnald invited their sisters and cousins and aunts from up and down the glen. The mess throughout the house was unbelievable.

I don’t think pears will be as attractive, but I can’t face a fortnight worrying about it. I’ll make a day trip on Monday. And assuming I don’t have to spend the time cleaning up after mice, I can put in a useful couple of hours whispering encouraging words to my little plants and watering and weeding them. The herbs have got themselves in a fair tangle.

Jeanfromcornwall, that’s interesting about the overlapping words for spring onions. Language: I was much struck, watching “Let the Right One In”, at the sound of Swedish. One can recognise quite a few English words, as in German, but unlike German the lift and intonation of a sentence sometimes sounds unexpectedly like the English equivalent.

Tamar, it’s a good film. Well-written, brilliantly directed, “sensitive” would not be an inappropriate epithet. The familiar vampiric elements are all there, but unexpectedly employed.


  1. rosesmama11:50 AM

    Thanks, Jean. I may try the sorrel. We moved house this past fall and I am slowly digging up sod for herb and vegetable beds. A big task, but well worth the daydreaming about. Maybe there will be sorrel next Spring . . .

  2. Dawn in NL12:30 PM

    Hello Jean,

    Regarding Jean of Cornwall's comment about names for spring onions, I've always called them syboes (Scottish word, pronounced sybies) which sounds similar to the words she mentioned. My husband from 'Norn Irn' calls them scallions.

    I now have a vegetable garden of my own. Reading your blog has become even more educationa.

    All the best,