Menokreatikkul; Saturday Stitches

Last week I simply placed in this spot two wee teaser shots. The colourful one can wait for another post. Let's concentrate on the turquoise item.

Continuing the saga of breaking the stash of cotton yarns inherited from my ol' ma, I have found there to be significant differences, just as there can be with wool and other fibres. Not a surprise, really, if one thinks about it, but I suppose I wasn't really (thinking about it, I mean), so I have found it soul-destroying interesting to learn how one must adapt to what is running through one's fingers. 

First, there was that light blue stuff, which worked up as if an 8-ply (double-knitting) yarn and seemed to stick to everything but the wide-gauge Tunisian hook I ended up using. 

Then there were the different spins on the stuff I used in the initial attempt at the miniscarf caper, using up some of the scrappier ends. I like wearing that, but knitting them I learned that not all were happy on the two-needle system of yarnwork. I was also learning that the difference between mercerised yarns and uncoated cottons makes for a b******* challenge. Then it was agonising surprising to discover that not all mercerised cottons work the same way or are happy on the same tools.

Some are definitely more user-friendly than others. The larger project that is being worked on in the background just now is making use of a variety, and one of them is darn close to being classed more as a string than a true yarn. More on that when it gets to the FO stage.

All this brings me to the turquoise. It was a full cone when I started out with the knitted mini-scarf/head-wrap and bandana/collar I showed you a couple of weeks back. It knitted okay, but definitely responded well to standard crochet. I had the notion to create something a little bit fancier to present to my visitor, and, having had success with the Tunisian style on that light blue mercer, I thought to give that a go... a few rows into the first attempt, I frogged it because there were some unprintable words being uttered. The yarn was sticking to the hook, so I figured I needed to go up a couple of sizes. Nope. Maybe it was because the hooks I was using were of the bamboo variety, let's try the metal instead... aaarrrggghhhhh

Five froggings of work later, I resorted to the standard hooks. The yarn was a heavy fingering to light sportweight, so I used a 5.5mm hook to ensure a good 'drape'. 

Casting on thirty chains, it is worked entirely in hdc (UKhdt) stitching. Three rows at the start and finish were worked solid, then moved to four solid border stitches at either end, and the body was worked as a *hdc, ch* repeat, each row worked directly above (i.e., stitch into stitch, chain above chain) to create a netted effect. It would have been the better of a steam press, but as it was going to be packed for travel, I didn't bother with that. This stitching turned out to be a real pleasure to do with this yarn and hook, and - as Joni herself said - the worked product had "good hand", draping really nicely... So here it is on it's recipient...

Menoturals; Cattle Crew

Well, it's time to share for Nature Friday with the LLB gang, and I still have two breeds of cattle to show off.

Today's breed is the mighty fine Hereford. This is a breed that has been much developed and re-bred and has become favoured the world over. Most of the cattle with this name outside the UK are from modern (post-WW2) breeding programmes. Here in the British Isles, though, there is a move to retain and return to full use the Original Population (OP) standard of the breed.

It wasn't until the mid-eighteenth century, when many farmers were getting interested in the more scientific aspects of breeding, that a certain Benjamin Tompkins of Herefordshire introduced some of the white-faced Welsh Marches to his home herd of an undefined breed name. Those cattle were short in stature but very hardy. The work on the breed was taken up by the Hewers (father Wm and son John), and it was they who are credited with formalising the deep red colouring with the white markings.

The photo I have from the Westmoreland show is of a very fine bull from the OP family: note the shortish legs and compact body. I could look over the withers of this animal, so they are definitely not tall, but very, very solid.

Herefords are much-loved and are often to be found mingled with other breeds on many farms. I have previously told you of the terminology of the Highland Cattle, in that a collection of them is referred to as a Fold. Folds are not simply herds, but might also be considered as 'clans', so relationships can be traced via the breed books.

Well, Herefords are equally aristocratic: in their case, the terminology is 'Tribe'. In the OP family, there are some very clear tribes, traceable back to those early breeding regimes. First and foremost arises from John Hewer's prized cow, Old Rosabelle, and is called the Dainty Tribe. 

Then there is the Countess Tribe and the Belladonna Tribe. Some are grouped together, such as the Maria, Plum and Pretty Maid lines under the umbrella of the Wintercott Tribes. There are the Carwardine and Arkwright Tribes, again with sub-tribes... if anyone is really keen on reading about family trees for cattle, you can check out this page!

Herefords are primarily known as beef cattle, but are also good for boosting dairy herds when crossed in. They are considered among the more docile cattle for handling, just don't make any sudden movements!

Now to remind you all that next week is FFF time again - offer up something just a little bit different, informative, fun, awe-inspiring... 

Menoddmessy; A Visitation

As touted in earlier posts, I had a visitor. Some of you will be familiar with Joni's name in relation to her providing some musical suggestions for the Wednesday posts here. A few of you will be even more familiar with her as a 'pen friend'. 

Joni does not blog herself, but was introduced to reading blogs when one lady and her Airedale's adventures were pointed out to her... then followed her nose from there. Mainly instigated by her love of dogs (and her own Airedales, Molly, then Amy), she found herself enjoying a variety of blogs and, from what I can gather, uses them in the same manner one might use magazines. 

Anyway, Joni decided to strike up email conversations with a few that she particularly enjoyed - and that included Gail, as well as me. 

Joni hails from Alberta in Canada and has always enjoyed travel. Indeed, it turns out she has been to Scotland more than once, so this was not entirely new territory for her. However, she was making an extra special effort to come all the way north from what was essentially a Paris/London trip in order to visit me, and things were not quite straightforward...

First, there was a terrible fire in a building adjacent to the Glasgow Central Rail Station, which resulted in the closure of the main part of the station. Thus, Joni had to follow guidance and made the trip via Edinburgh. She was to spend the 12th in Glasgow, and we had made plans for me to drive to Pollokshaws Park, where the Burrell Collection is housed, and then come back to The Hutch... without either of us fully registering other factors. Neither of us being at all superstitious, we might in future pay a great deal of attention to the presence of any Friday being the thirteenth...

First, I awoke that morning only to realise I was not feeling at all fit enough to drive the best part of two hours into what I knew would be crazy traffic due to the rail closures. As we exchanged morning greetings via text, Joni was not all that surprised and very supportive of my need to preserve energy, so we looked at how she was going to get here - the short end of that story being that the 901 Clyde Flyer bus was the only option. She managed to go and visit the Burrell in the morning, but not without having her own tribulations, as it seems the whole of Glasgow was in complete turmoil due to the station fire. The knock-on effect of no trains, road closures, bus re-routings... Bless her for determination! Once she let me know she was on the bus later in the day, I got myself together and took The Grey over on the ferry to Gourock to collect her. Absolute mayhem, even at this end. So manic was the traffic, in fact, there were two ferry boats running - pretty much unprecedented for this quiet wee corner of the Bonny Land!

Anyway, Joni safely gathered up, we headed back in slightly less, but still surprisingly heavy traffic and even managed to bag a parking spot within a hundred yards of the flat. It turned out there was some dance competition going on at the Queens Hall - but we couldn't find any information about that at all. 

Once into the Hutch, deep breaths were taken, and a proper hello hug and cuppa tea helped to settle somewhat frayed edges of we two ladies of a certain age!

The weather was another factor. March is being very unkind. There had been a fall of snow on the hilltops and even at street level first thing on Friday, but that didn't lie. Sleet was the main issue, and a biting wind.

That said, when there was a break on Saturday, we grabbed the opportunity for a walk down to the promenade and up to the castle gardens. Joni's photo of me (tiny red bobble hat in the centre of the image) might mislead the unfamiliar eye! 

The cloud came and went, and there were a couple of spits, but we even managed a couple of sit-downs by the waterside and had lots of fun hellos with passing doggies and their peeps.

Can you believe I didn't photograph any of them?!! I was just concentrating on the conversation and enjoying the moment. (You'll see a photo of Joni on Saturday...)

We were out for a little over an hour and couldn't have timed it better, for just as we were taking off our coats back in the flat, back came the wind and rain. Although there were spells of sunshine during the rest of that afternoon, they were brief as the foul stuff came in like the waves on the shore. 

I had been planning to take Joni a ride over to Helensburgh on the Sunday, to visit The Hill House (Charles Rennie-Mckintosh design); however, all that worry about travel rearrangements had my visitor concerned - and me, if I'm honest. If she had stayed until Monday as originally planned, it would have been fine. However, a notice had been sent that the station would still not be open for their travel, so there was more mucking around to be done. I was not altogether surprised, then, when Joni said on Sunday morning that she might leave that afternoon instead. We both pored over the ferry/bus timetables to work out what would suit. Even that wasn't as straightforward as it usually is, because our foot ferry service is so shy of weather that is anything other than mirrors and spotlights. I made the decision to drive over in the same manner as I'd collected Joni. This proved fortuitous because the weather was absolutely foul by mid-arvo. Truly awful. 

Sigh... great big warm hugs at the bus stop, and then it was farewell! 

I cannot properly express my gratitude to Joni for making the endeavour of this trip. It didn't pan out as I had quite hoped in that so much came at us from all sides to cut down explorations. That said, we chattered away like old friends and were very comfortable together. Thus, while the physical part of this meet-up turned into something of a damp squib, the connection of two minds after so long over distance was truly wonderful.

But come on, spring, where the dickens are you????!!!!!