BOOK REVIEW: Round and Round the Crochet Hook

My crojo has gone missing. Do you know what crojo is? It stands for "crochet mojo" and, as with so many things, I didn't know it was "a thing" until I saw someone mention it on instagram. It's that feeling when you're so into a project you dont want to put it down at all, when you're full of inspiration for what to make, when you're generally just so crochet-y. Usually, that's me. Since baby 2, not so much. 

It's okay, I know exactly why it's happened to me at this time. Crochet is my Creative Thing, but it's hard to be innovative and original when you're so sleep-deprived you can barely string a sentence together. It all goes in phases, doesn't it, and in the meantime I'm thankful I have knitting as my Making Thing. 

I do miss it though. The weight of the hook in my hand, zipping through rows (god, knitting is slow), my favourite familiar textures... 
So when Emily Littlefair (who you may know as The Loopy Stitch) asked whether I'd like to take part in a virtual tour for her new book, I jumped at the chance. Emily's IG page is full of gorgeous crochet, and I thought, what better way to try to tease my crojo back but with one of her patterns?

The new book is called "Round and Round the Crochet Hook", and contains 19 patterns that are all worked in the round. Most of them are small, reasonably quick projects, but there is one stunner of a blanket as well. Each pattern comes with detailed written instructions, complete stitch charts, and clear project photos. At the back of the book there's a handy "Crochet Basics and Techniques" section as well. 

When I received the book, the first thing that struck me was how pretty it is. As you'd expect from Emily, the colour palettes are very, very beautiful, with just the right balance between bright and sophisticated. We're in the depths of gallingly-grey November days here, and even just flipping through the pages is a enough for a bit of a visual pick-me-up. 

The other thing I really like is how clever the whole thing is. I've always admired crochet mandalas, both for how they look and for their meditative round-and-round-and-round construction - but I don't often make them because, well, what do you do with them all? Emily has anwsered that question for me: you make cushions, coasters, table runners, wall hangings... And you end up with truly beautiful as well as usable pieces for the home. 

It was such fun flicking through this pretty book in a quiet, baby-is-finally-napping moment. I made tea, my favourite crochet notebook came out...

In the end, I chose the Spotty and Dotty garland as my first project. I'm using bits of leftover Vinnis Colours cotton and bamboo because I just love the colours. We're doing up the boys' room at the moment, so that's where it will go, assuming I can bear to part with it! I'm pleased to say I'm really enjoying making it, to the point where I'm already toying with the idea of making them a rug from the book in matching colours.

Well hello there crojo, my old friend...

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Round and Round the Crochet Hook by Emily Littlefair is published by Tuva Publishing and available to buy now. Thank you to Emily and Tuva Publishing for giving me the opportunity to review this lovely book and take part in the virtual book tour (for a full list of participants, click here). 

The Bean + The Bug | November 2017

In August a friend of mine showed me one of those quotes, one of the many that pop up on facebook every day, but this one stuck. It was in Italian but it goes something along the lines of: There was once a calm and collected woman. Then she had two children. The end. 

They're certainly a whirlwind, these two, and I'm not going to lie: some days I feel it sweeps me up in an endless litany of wiping-soothing-cleaning-dashing-rocking-cajoling and I fear I may never land. We've had a lot to contend with lately, of course, a house move and a new school term that has gotten off to quite a rocky start for the big boy. That, combined with the small boy never sleeping more than a couple of hours at a time day or night, means it is often all too easy to look after, to go through the motions, but not to look at.

There is so much to observe though. More and more, I can stand back and watch them together. 5 minutes, maybe even 10, when they're just content to be in each other's company and forget I'm there. Mealtimes are a-okay with the Bug (who has such a love of food he's more of a big, fat beetle, really) as long as the Bean is providing entertainment. The Bean will get himself dressed in the morning, but only when he has the Bug's undivided attention. It's not hard. He always does. Oh to crawl, to crawl, small one; He's so frustratingly close-yet-far, but I've no doubt he will be the Bean's shadow soon. 

Sure, having a little brother has brought out a jealous streak in the big boy - one that we all have - but there a caring side too, a desire to protect, to make things alright, to just share the everyday. To show him life's small delights for the very first time. Loud toys, banging noise. Tickle attack, climbing frames (perhaps a little ambitious still!), the swings at the park. And yes look, observe: those giggles versus my sanity. It's not that hard a choice, really.

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I'm joining in with Lucy at Dear Beautiful, Donna at What the Redhead Said, Natalie at Little Jam Pot Life, Keri-Anne at GingerLily Tea, Amber at Meet the Wildes, Katie at Mummy Daddy Me and Carie at Space for the Butterflies for the Siblings Project.

Crochet speckle

I'm sure that, in between pondering what to cook for dinner yet again and hoovering up crumbly leaves and sand and whatever else the preschooler/dog/cat has stormed in with, you've wondered: what does a crochet speckle look like? Yes yes, me too, it's an important question. So here you are:

Did you spot it? That little dash of burgundy red? Lovely, isn't it.  

But it's also made me wonder, why aren't there more crochet speckles about? Why do speckled yarns seem to be mostly a knitterly thing, so much so that I've even heard mutterings of solid colours being "refreshing" in a "world of speckles and fades".  

As a new-ish knitter, I'm new-ish to speckles. I've decided I like speckles. I didn't really come to them entirely of my own accord; It was Petra, the indie dyer I'm collaborating with on a merino version of the Sea Glass Shawl who suggested it with such an air of "well why wouldn't you", that I thought, "well why not?" And now, I like them. 

Perhaps the reason you don't see so many crochet speckles is because they tend to feature on socks or fingering weight yarns (the very thin, light ones), and my impression is that crocheters prefer DK and above. Speckles are also a bit subtle - you need tiny stitches to show them off. Are we crocheters just a bit too impatient, a bit too used to our projects growing quickly, to really appreciate speckles? 

I hope not. Because I want to re-release the pattern for this shawl soon and more speckly ideas are forming in my head. So at some point (providing the baby ever learns to go without mama milk for more than two hours at a time, but that's a story for another day) there will be more crochet speckle. Just a little bit. It's just too pretty not to, isn't it?

Nikkim Milo

This summer the lovely Petra from Fru Valborg asked if I wanted to try some new cotton she'd be stocking in her webshop. Would I?! To justify yet more yarn parcels arriving when I'm not exactly small of stash, I asked whether she might be happy to provide enough for a couple of tops for the boys {altruism on my part, and all that}. She was, and this arrived:

Vinnis Colours Nikkim, a handdyed, hand-balled cotton produced by a fair trade, women's cooperative in South Africa. I've worked with this yarn before for a commission, and it's truly lovely. The colours are vibrant and enticing, while the cotton itself is much softer than you'd expect. Petra stocks lots of colours, and ships worldwide if you fancy giving it a try.

I decided to make another Sea Breeze Hoodie for the Bean in the "brick red" (because everything must be red at the moment) and "camel". Initially I had planned to make a mini Sea Breeze for the smallest boy in the "pacific blue" and "sand" shades for a bit of sibling non-matching matching, but my severe allergy to Making the Same Thing Twice put paid to that. 

I reached for a knitting pattern I had in my Ravelry Library but bollicksed up the first time: Milo by Georgie Hallam. I think it was the second thing I ever knit and as I don't fail gracefully, a second attempt seemed like a good idea. Luckily it went much better this time. It's a delight of a pattern, one I'd recommend to anyone with little people to knit for. The raglan increases are clever, the garter stitch is appropriately smooshy, the cables add interest. Best of all, there being no sleeves means it works up really fast. 

I had the whole thing done in about a week. The small boy looks so snazzy in it, in my completely biased opinion, that I might even be tempted to make him another in wool now the weather is beginning to turn. With a different cable, mind (the pattern provides no less than six). 

Disclosure: I was sent Nikkim yarn to try, free of charge. All images, words and opinions are my own.

Oof

What, dear people of the Internet, do you think might be the least restful way to spend the summer? 4.5-year-old, newborn, no daycare, lots of guests, a house move, a piddling amount of money, and ALL the rain? Check, check and check.

By the end of it the newborn was suddenly very much a Proper Baby in the throes of the 4-month sleep regression (if anyone tells you this is not a thing, they lie). The 4.5yo had grown out of 90% of his clothes, thought up a whole new arsenal of smart-ass responses, and discovered the joy of Grandmas With Deep Pockets in the Lego Shop. Then as soon as he was back in school, we didn't rest, no we did not. We packed like the wind between the hours of 9 and 2, then spent the afternoons making the most of the late summer sun who'd finally decided to make an appearance. 

The end of the summer, and I'm tired to the bone. I try not to wince at the memory of the many days I was shouty, cross mummy rather than the kind person I want to be. Try, because I think it's okay to cut myself some slack.

Because, no sleep.

Because, despite my grumpiness and the excess of screen time, sugary cereal, and constanstly being told to BE QUIET OR YOU'LL WAKE UP THE BABY, we've somehow ended up with the coolest, funniest of Beans who simply sasses through life.  

Because all four of us managed to get to Copenhagen for a wedding on one sunny day at the end of August, looking vaguely presentable and with no one losing their sh*t.  

Because the comedown after months of flat-searching, penny-pinching, and CV-churning has been more of a crash landing than a slow and measured exhalation (who, pray tell, manages those with two small people anyway, even in the best of circumstances?)

I am waiting for that slow, bumbling sense of contentment, somewhere in the crannies of my chest. I'm waiting to feel roots start to furl out of the soles of my feet. I always do on the cusp of Autumn, but this year there's more to it. We decided to stay in Sweden after so many years of meandering, which has nothing whatsoever to do with a summer spent building Lego or pulling silly faces at the baby perched on my hip, but everything with the hours and hours we worked behind the scenes, all year. All the nights I lay awake worrying, well before the tiniest person in the house decided to add his two-gurgles' worth.

We have a garden now, for the first time in almost 7 years. Woolly sock weather is on its way. And that is about as complex a thought as I am able to hold in my head at the moment. Oof. 

The Bean + The Bug | July 2017

It's not easy, this baby appearing in your home and being so utterly useless yet still constantly drooled over by everyone and YET STILL you're expected to just LOVE HIM. 

Almost three months in to going from one child to two, and it hasn't been easy. There have been times, days and days on end even, where our funny, thoughtful and spirited 4.5yo Bean has been a shadow of himself. I wouldn't have expected anything else, but it hasn't been easy. 

Still, I think it is getting better. As the Bug learns to coo, gurgle and giggle, the Bean finds it easier to relate to him. Yesterday the two of them set each other off on their very first totally-for-no-reason fit of giggles. The little one with that unsure, "I have no idea what my body is doing" look on his face, the big one shrieking and hollering but still with one eye one me that said "he's not about to cry, is he Mum?". But there they were: both laughing, colluding, full of real joy in each other. 

Having a sibling is getting better. The Bug's eager little eyes follow his big brother everywhere, that doesn't surprise me, but the the Bean, the Bean, sometimes I poke my head around the door and there he is. Soothing his baby brother, or trying to make him laugh. Reading him a story or bringing him a toy, wanting to interact somehow. Just as long as noone is looking. 

Having secrets even at this early stage, the two of them. Having a sibling might not be that bad, after all. 

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I'm joining in with Lucy at Dear Beautiful, Donna at What the Redhead Said, Natalie at Little Jam Pot Life, Keri-Anne at GingerLily Tea, Amber at Meet the Wildes, Katie at Mummy Daddy Me and Carie at Space for the Butterflies for the Siblings Project.

The dreams of a 4.5-year-old boy

There was once a little boy, of a generally sunny but also pensive disposition, who often struggled with bad dreams. Sometimes it was them darn zombies. His mama told him there's no such thing but, what do mamas know about these things anyway? And sometimes he dreamed his mama herself would leave, which was altogether worse. No amount of night lights or cuddly toys or dolly friends would make those dreams go away.

His mama said, I won't leave, I'll always be here for you one way or another. But she knew that words are sometimes not enough. So they put their heads together, and both agreed: a dreamcatcher. Because both knew, deep down, that the best way to soothe another person's soul is to give them something your own hands have made. 

Two old embroidery hoops, leftover cotton yarn, some feathers pilfered from the Easter decorations box. New beads though, because, well... Shiny things. Irresistible. 

And here is the result.

If you want to make a similar dreamcatcher, I was inspired by this one.

The Fling-It Project

Some projects roll off the hook or needle. The swatch is true, the wool buttery, the colours just so. This kind of project is rare, and to date I think I've only had two: the Floss scarf and the Flax sweater.

Most projects seem to have to involve at least a few hiccups. Perhaps the colours don't quite sing in the way you expected, or maybe you dropped a stitch somewhere and have to go back a bit. You might have to spend a few evenings pouring over blogs and YouTube tutorials, having been a little too optimistic about your own abilities. This is okay. I don't mind hiccups - you always learn something new. 

Sometimes, though, often when you least expect it, you get an absolute b****** of a project. Not so much a WIP (work in progress) as a FIP (fling-it project). Fling it across the bloody room. 

See this lovely, innocent-looking little cardie? It's my FIP. Oh my, am I glad Pinterest doesn't do audio, because the Bleeps and @*!Xs that are woven into those tiny fairisle stitches...

The pattern is from an Editions Marie Claire pattern book I've had for years. It has a bottom-up, seamed raglan construction, and is meant to be knit in 3mm needles. I knit quite tightly, so I went up to 3.5mm to get the right gauge. I picked the smallest size: 0-3 months. Although now that it's finished and finally on the Squidgy One I do think it's rather lovely, but unusually for me, I didn't enjoy making it one bit. Sheer stubbornness to avoid wasting the beautiful yarn (more details below), as well as a looming "oh look mum, I'm about to bust out of this before you've even finished it" situation are the only reasons I didn't abandon it halfway through. 

The thing about baby knits is that they are meant to be quick, satisfying makes but despite its diminutive size this was anything but. I started it before we even knew whether the wriggly baby in my belly would be a girl or a boy, and didn't finish until our Bug had already been with us for good month. This was mostly my own fault, owing to a series of spectacular misjudgments.

No matter how small the cardie, fine 2-ply is never going to knit up fast. 

No matter how small the cardie, trying your hand at fairisle for the second time in your life is never going to be fast. 

No matter how small the cardie, itty bitty pieces with itty bitty stitches are never going to be fast to seam. 

D'oh. 

The yarn probably didn't make things easier either. It is utterly lovely, don't get me wrong - a blend of 50% cotton and 50% merino, both organic, by Hjerte Garn. It's soft and strong, and will probably pill very little. But it's also very fine and kinda sticky, so with all the colour changes it tangled like nobody's business. The stickiness does make the little fairisle Vs stand out and hold their shape very nicely, but an inexperienced knitter like me was always bound to want to Fling It. Lesson learned. 

Part of my frustration was down to the pattern itself, too. As I knitted, blocked and laid out each piece, frowned over them, held them up, put them next to the Bug, frowned again, it became clear that the dimensions were turning out very odd. The body is very wide, but the sleeves and hem line both come up short on my average-sized boy. There are no pictures in the book of the finished cardigan worn by a baby, just of pretty flatlays.  It goes to show how important it is to understand body measurements as well as construction methods - my Bug happens to be long in the body, and (since I wasn't able to measure him when I started this knit) I could have adjusted the pattern as I went had it been a top-down one. So an oddly three-quarter length thingy it is. 

About halfway through I did start cheating a bit to speed things up. To do the raglan shaping I decreased stitches rather than binding them off. The button band and the neckline are meant to be knitted separately and sewn on but, just no. I picked up the stitches along the selvedge edge instead and called it done.

So there it is. A wee FIP cardie finished off with little clear buttons from my stash. And doesn't he look cute as a button in it? Phew. Just don't ask me to make another one.

Sanity walk

We hit the summer solstice yesterday, and I think the best thing about the abundance of light is that it makes short shrift of any urge to wallow. The Bug is two months, the Bean is impossible, and the nights... Let's just say that, had I had another winter baby, I would be spending these newborn weeks shuffling around like some kind of narcoleptic mole. 

But as it happens there is light, there is colour. There is a semblance of warmth. It is impossible not to feel buoyed by it, no matter how many times I've whispered furiously (and fruitlessly) "stop singing please, you'll wake the baby". 

With the Bug tucked up Snug in the sling, I set off. Up the hill, through the woods, past the fields. Sometimes armed with the big camera but usually not, for reasons of "feeling like a school-run pack horse already".  

A pilfered flower here and there, plenty of deeep breaths, and a silent thank you to a sympathetic stranger; To anyone else successfully keeping two small people fed, clothed and reasonably happy without completely losing the plot themselves, you do, indeed, ROCK.

PS If you want to see what the landscape in southern Sweden looks like in winter, have a look at my ode to Brown

Two

"Don't wake up your brother!"

Said the Husband to the Bean.  "Your brother "?!

Crap, I thought. There's two of them.

Four years suddenly seems like a long time to get used to being a family of three. A good while since we did the newborn thing. An eternity to be the sole focus of your parents' attention. 

The jump from one to two children is, indeed, a big one.

A big but delightful jump, in many ways. Much of the Bug's personally is still unknown to us, but it somehow already feels like he was only ever here, making us a Four. This is unexpected, but reassuring.

It's also wonderful to see our two boys together. The little one still jerky and googly-eyed, but so obviously enthralled with the big one that he reserved his first quivering smiles for him. The result is far more than twice the joy.

For the big one the novelty of having a baby in the house didn't last long (like, all of three seconds), but he still likes to help by fetching the nappy or the dummy, and to prove to everyone that "he REALLY likes me the BEST, mum". The implication being, not you mum, of course.

Two boys. 

Two arms, one of me, just not enough when the little one needs feeding (again) and the big one decides he needs me to build him a(nother) paper aeroplane that very moment. But perfectly adequate in the middle of the night, when I am everything for both of them. Even if it means I'm often the only one who's not asleep.

Two o'clock, the time I now pick up the big one. Two hours earlier than I used to, because of Sweden's funny rules on parental leave and daycare entitlement. Two hours extra to spend at the park, for now, but goodness knows what we'll do in winter.  

Two boys, one day at a time. Sometimes an hour.

All the cuddles, big smiles and many, many tearful outbursts. 

Two little hands in mine. 

Two shrieks of laughter when the little one empties his bowels with the most spectacular sound effects. Usually when Daddy's back and I'm just trying to take five, and always when a fresh napy's been on for all of two minutes.  

Two bewildered parents whose paths occasionally cross to share battle stories, pretending-to-know looks and mini-win high fives. Although I think, admittedly, also two parents who are struggling to identify with one another, because it is easy to feel like you're circling entirely different orbits when one of you just watches the world go by with her boobs out all day every day and the other just feels like that world is speeding up underneath them, all day every day. Even Sweden's famously egalitarian parental system hasn't found a way around that one.

One row of crochet here and there: the bare minimum to stay sane.

One bag of laundry parked permanently in the hallway, although at least it is usually filled with clean things. 

Way more stuff than you'd think reasonably possible with only two children, especially when one is so tiny.

Two brothers who will hopefully share many more giggles and support each other through the tears. My two.