• 4244

    "Mrs. Campbell, 1805" by Hands Across the Sea.  I started this just before New Year's and am enjoying it tremendously — amused at the same time that I looked at it a bit askance for a while after first seeing it, for Mrs. Campbell's rather severe motto "Keep your work clean and pay Attention to it".  Clearly a teacher! and a stern Scottish one, too.  But, to be honest, I love the fact that she has fit everything in so neatly — solving the eternal Corner Problem with a clever and pleasing arrangement — and that while the border "flowers" are strict and orderly, even with the colors repeating in the same order on all four sides, the center field is a nearly-riotous pair of leaves-and-flowers garlands with brightly-colored little birds — a calm and reserved outside with a playful inside.  I get that.

    4245

    It seemed obvious to me, after working a couple of Darlene O'Steen's designs, that the border lines should be in alternating backstitch, although the chart makes no distinction and so presumably indicates simple crosses and backstitch.  (The back of Mrs. Campbell's original seems pretty clearly to show that something is different between the three-stitch sections, but it certainly does not look like backstitch, to be sure.)  I enjoy the rhythm of alternating backstitch, though, and so it did not feel that I was doing Mrs. Campbell a disservice at all (!) to work it that way.

    4246
    Completely coincidentally, I had just bought a piece of the recommended linen, "Woodsmoke" by Tabby Cat Linens, but it is quite brown, where the Hands Across the Sea image looks much more to be of a rather yellowed linen.  Try as I might, I could not picture this on a café-au-lait brown, and so I bought a piece of Zweigart "Antique Linen," a lovely off-white, thinking that my coffee-dye experiments with "Zoé Elie" were quite successful, and I might put the finished "Mrs. Campbell" through something similar.  I'm liking the DMC colors quite a lot, though, so I might just leave it as-is.

    Mrs Campbell - Hands Across the Sea

    4249

    And the "Wisdom Sampler" is now back on a frame as my long-term WIP.  (I have in fact finished the "Quaker Virtues" that was in this frame, but can't get the photos from my phone yet ….) —

    4250

    I managed to get two more things actually framed for hanging — I can work the samplers much more quickly than I can get them framed, certainly.  Jane Jameson's charming-if-scruffy 1830 original is now in an "oops" frame that Laura brought home for me from work.  I had already archival-mounted the sampler on a cotton fabric-covered board, thinking to someday have it framed fairly close to the edges of the stitching, as so many historical samplers were, but a free frame was too good to turn down, especially when it was the right proportion and not a bad fit aesthetically either.  I really wanted to get this under glass and away from the elements as soon as possible, and so Laura and I went to Michael's one day and the framing clerk suggested this dusty-green mat and Laura suggested the float-style mounting — good choices, both.  The other sampler is of course my "Lady Floral Brittany," now in one of the three antique frames I bought a few years ago with my birthday money — wish I could have bought more of them, they were all as beautiful as this one.

    4252-2

    4251-2

  • 2587
    Page two is the next-to-last page in my journey through the "Quaker Virtues" chart!  I made an effort the past few weeks to focus on this and get to the join between pages two and three — and page three is less than half of a page of chart, because of the diagonal corner.  Whee!

    2591

    My Camptown Sort-of Races scarf — "sort of" because of course I'm not doing stripes, just letting the yarn go where it will, pools and all.  I don't even remember when I started this, but it was at least during lock-down in 2020, as I knitted on it during Zoom meetings (!).  It's an easy pattern, but also therefore easy to go wrong, because *you start daydreaming and all of a sudden think, "Oh no!  I should have worked the pattern row way back there," rip it back, re-knit, repeat from *.

    2595

    The 1909 Ladies' Mitts which I started back in July — well, at least it was this year, ha-ha.  I finished the first mitt a month or so ago — it took so long partly because for some reason my brain just did not want to keep track of the stitch pattern, and I kept getting off and having to rip it back and figure out where I'd gone wrong, or to get that second stitch of Kfb, which I don't know if I'll ever understand how to pick up when I've inadvertently dropped it.  With the second mitt, I bowed to Fate and used stitch markers after every repeat.  I still have to tink back now and then to get a dropped Kfb, but at least it's obvious when I've gone wrong!  I'm not crazy about either of these stitch patterns, to be honest, but the yarn is lovely to work with, so that's a plus.  (For some reason, I decided to cast off the first mitt in purl, then changed my mind, but I haven't gone back to re-do it in K1, P1 rib yet, which is why I haven't woven in that last yarn end!)

    2596

  • Death on the nile 2022
    I got on a bit of a mysteries kick after watching Kenneth Branagh's new version of "Death on the Nile".  I confess that I did not like it much — it not only didn't compare well to the 1978 version with Peter Ustinov as Poirot, but even if I hadn't been familiar with the earlier one, I would have been dismayed at many of Branagh's changes.  The moustache backstory was illogical and unnecessary, the attempts at "modernizing" the characters historically jarring — and also unnecessary — and the background details historically absurd (the maid in evening dress at a celebratory dance party? no! female crew members on the boat? no! and in shorts? no!! — and why on earth would they wrap the bodies of the murder victims like mummies?! good heavens). 

    Undoubtedly, my dismay at the movie is what compelled me to dash to the public library and raid the Christie section.  While I was there, since I knew that the three I chose are fairly quick reads, I looked at the Georgette Heyer shelf as well, and borrowed two of those as well.  I had read all of the Christies many years ago — I went through her entire oeuvre, possibly after seeing the charming "Tommy and Tuppence" series with Francesca Annis and James Warwick, if not earlier! — but these Heyers were new to me, at least.

    Death on the nile 1978

    First, of course, was Death on the Nile.  The 1978 movie is perhaps my second-favorite of the Christies — for the lovely and authentic (cough) scenery, for the wonderful clothing, the superb cast.  Although David Suchet will forever in my mind, as in many others', be Hercule Poirot, Peter Ustinov makes a charming and appealing Poirot.  It was interesting to read the book knowing very well how the murder was accomplished, and see all of the clues that Christie planted along the way, both in people's characters and their actions.

    After that, I read Heyer's 1939 No Wind of Blame, which I enjoyed very much.  The dialogue sparkles, the characterizations are deft, and the Scotland Yard inspector — who, rather surprisingly, doesn't make an entrance until halfway through the book — is appealingly snappy at times, with a teasing sense of humor that to me is quite unusual in a literary detective.  I fell for a red herring, too, trying to work out how one of the charming characters could have done it, when it turned out to be one of the less-charming ones (and I hope that isn't much of a spoiler!).

    Agatha-Christie-Murder-on-the-Orient-Express-1974

    "Murder on the Orient Express" is my favorite of all of the Christie movies, a stand-out in every respect.  Obviously, I was well aware of the plot as I read the book, but it also struck me how well the screenwriter, as that of "Death on the Nile" (John Dehn and Anthony Shaffer, respectively) concentrated the plot and the number of characters without sacrificing any plot points, and indeed, in many respects actually improving the tightness of the story.  It's also telling, cinematically, that while Kenneth Branagh felt that his 2017 version (even less successful in my eyes than his "Death on the Nile," but perhaps this is inversely proportional to the perfection of the 1974 version …) needed exterior chase scenes (!), the earlier one makes even the splendidly luxurious Orient Express feel claustrophobic, both in the flashback to the murder scene and in Poirot's summation of the events.

    Envious Casca I found somewhat less appealing than the other Heyer, most likely because the Herriard family is constantly sniping at each other, or outright arguing, but of course it is equally well-written and tightly-plotted as is the first one, with an admirably clever clue (if somewhat less obvious to those of us reading a century or so later) to the locked-room problem given quite early on.

    The 1982 film of "Evil Under the Sun" is one of those that I enjoy watching but don't seek out, for some reason — it just doesn't speak to me as much as the other two.  The book had somewhat the same effect on me — it's clever, but … not really a favorite of mine.  I can see why readers find Christie rather slight compared to, say, Dorothy L. Sayers, but then, one doesn't read Sayers if one is in the mood for Christie, either!

    I don't quite see, by the way, why so many reviewers find Branagh-Poirot's moustache so absurd — it's supposed to be absurd, except of course to Poirot himself, who is quite proud of it.  Christie describes it in Orient Express as "enormous moustaches" (note the plural!), and in other novels as "gigantic," "immense," and "amazing" (there is even a page devoted to it at AgathaChristie.com!) — and Branagh-Poirot's is far more amazing than Ustinov-Poirot's surprisingly average moustache or Suchet-Poirot's foppishly dainty one.  If you look at a selection of Victorian moustaches, most likely Poirot's generation, what is remarkable about Branagh-Poirot's is not so much its enormity as the mouche under his lower lip, which in my admittedly-small survey is never seen.  Mutton-chops, yes, goatees, yes, the rather "newer" Van Dyke as on George V, etc. etc. etc., but not the little patch.  Branagh-Poirot's moustache might actually be one of the few historically-accurate things about his movie!

    Some victorian moustaches

  • Mrs. Christie_s Sampler of Canvas Stitches (_When Daisies Pied_)

    It is Sampler September 2023, which seems to be not a stitch-along or even anything really official, but just is, as a time to celebrate cross- and counted-stitch samplers. In honor of this, and in thanks to those before me who have posted free charts of samplers, here is one that I have charted from a book that I came across somewhat randomly, Samplers and Stitches by Grace Christie.  It is essentially an early stitch dictionary, with descriptions and instructions and diagrams, and includes as plates (mostly black-and-white, it was 1921 after all) a number of little samplers that Mrs. Christie worked to demonstrate the stitches, and a few larger pictorial pieces, including one called "A Persian Flower Garden," a riot of colorful, though now faded, flowers and birds and insects, many of which she adapted into this smaller piece, with a springtime quotation from "Love's Labour's Lost" —

    Christie when daisies pied

    Download Mrs. Christie's "When Daisies Pied"

    The sampler was surprisingly challenging to chart in some places, as although the illustration looks pretty straightforward, the "columns" and "rows" don't always line up from one motif to another — and of course I had to adapt the colors of a hundred-year-old embroidery which I've not seen in person into modern threads.  I tried to strike a pleasing balance between the lovely faded colors of the front of the "Persian Garden" and the brighter, more original ones on the back.  Choices were made, obviously, and another stitcher should feel free to change them as desired. 

    I have not stitched this yet! though it is certainly on my list.  If anyone does, I would be delighted to see it worked!

  • 2507

    Now the boulders look like “three-dimensional” boulders, after switching out the errant DMC flosses for ones that more resemble the picture on the cover of the chart.  I meant to take a photo of this at the time, but clearly I was enjoying stitching too much to think of it.  Curiously, the water didn’t look like much of anything until the landscaping around it began to be filled in, and then suddenly it was obviously a waterfall!  I’m still not quite sure what that brown construction at the lower right is — I thought it might be a mill wheel … a bridge tunnel?  At the moment, I am leaning once again towards mill wheel …

    1819

    I bought these delicious-looking pastries for my 1:12 tea room some time ago.  Flush with the success, I decided to re-paint the outside of the third shop, which I had done in a rather vivid blue —

    1797

    that turned out to be just too much.  I had been going for a lovely dark blue, but though the paint chip looked tempting enough to buy a sample pot, it just didn’t work on the shop itself.  One night when it was far too late to run out and buy something else, I looked through my craft paints and pulled out a Martha Stewart one in “Magellan Blue” —

    1814

    and I quite like it now!  I’m afraid that the white trim next to a dark blue does show up the crookedness of the factory assembly, but there it is, can’t be helped.  I might try and touch up some of the wobbly paint work, though (!).

    2509

    I bought this at the same time as the two chairs for the tea shop, a midcentury-modern room divider from Arjen Spinhoven.  It is a superb kit, cleverly reducing a real piece of 1950s furniture into 1:12 scale.  My finishing techniques don’t live up to the beauty of this kit, I’m afraid, but luckily for me, it doesn’t look too bad from a distance.

    I worried a lot about the faux teak wood-grain that this piece absolutely required — I could paint the chairs black, but not this! — and I did a lot of research and testing on scraps before I did the real thing.  I’m mostly happy with my results — could be better, but for a first attempt, not bad.

    2505

    I’m embarrassed to admit that although I remembered and heeded the instructions to glue the two layers of a particular piece in a certain direction — so that the notches on the underside of the upper cabinet are aligned with the holes on the top of the lower cabinet, to fit that central shelf support — and that I laid them out carefully before applying the glue, I somehow managed to turn one half around as I was spreading the glue and forgot to turn it back.  This necessitated carving out some rather laughably clumsy notches on the piece that would become the underside of the upper cabinet — in a piece that actually has some rather good faux wood grain on it, too! aaugh — so builder beware, and learn from my mistake!

    2503

    (What an eye for detail Spinhoven has! Look at the double-H piece — the upper side of the cross-pieces, which will support the two small shelves, are cut with straight corners, but the undersides, which will be visible, have a slight curve in the corners.)

    2512

    This double-H was the most worrisome piece, as it is frighteningly thin and bendy, and you can see that I did not get it to stand as straight as it is meant to.  Even though there was a spare included with the kit (thoughtfully!), I had already cracked said spare earlier while dry-fitting my re-cut holes, and so I didn’t dare to take this one out and re-set it.

    This is my favorite part of the piece, the bow-like cross-pieces on the legs! —

    2510

    And yes, those “glass” doors do slide open and closed!

    2513
    2511

  • 1781
    I had long intended to scratch-build the chairs for my 1:12 tea shop, and was hoping to re-size this 1:24 tutorial from Little Architecture (which is actually the Sibbo/Pinnockio chair by Yngve Ekström), but after a great deal of math, some trial and error, and months of dawdling, I saw the mid-century modern dining chair on Arjen Spinhoven's website, and realized yet again that anything I can do, Arjen Spinhoven can do much, much better.

    1775

    The kit does go together fairly easily, and the resulting chair is not only beautiful in itself, but sturdier — less vulnerable, I mean — than Jane Harrop's mid-century chairs, charming as those are.

    1784

    The real-life design is the Fresco chair by Ib Kofod-Larsen — it's uncanny, how well Spinhoven has re-created it in 1:12 scale. The back rest on the original chair is upholstered, which Spinhoven has decided not to simulate, but that is a minor detail — the 1:12 chair looks very good with a wooden back — but if one has a steady hand, I'm sure this could be done with paint, as with the seat.

    1782

    As handsome as these would be in a teak-colored finish, I had in my mind's eye a set of black chairs, as a subtle difference from the various other wood tones in the shop.  I painted mine with a base coat of black, then after a light sanding, a second coat of 1:1 the same black paint and satin varnish, for just a little sheen.  I will probably age these a bit, but I'm enjoying them as they are for now!

    1794

  • 1768

    Not that I haven't been enjoying and appreciating the "Wisdom Sampler," but I got this far and found myself unable to stop wishing that I'd started "Laurence Briquet" instead.  I've set things temporarily aside before — I mean, started another project simultaneously in another frame or hoop (or set of needles …) — but I don't think I've ever actually taken one off the frame for another, partly because it's just a bother with having to baste a piece of linen to the stretcher bars.  But there it is — I took "Wisdom" off and put in "Laurence" instead.

    1772

    And things were going pretty well, even though I realized that the threads for the water were considerably lighter than in the image, and though I usually like that faded look, I decided to pick it out and switch the three for three of my favorite Antique Blues.  I was far enough along with the water that I moved over to one of the "boulders," but after a bit of stitching thought, "wait a minute — this second brown is supposed to be shading …." and it is indeed lighter than the main brown, instead of darker.  After rather laboriously checking the Soie d'Alger colors with the DMC (by way of various online needlework shops and color charts), I suspect now that nobody at Reflets de Soie actually stitched this in the DMC conversion that is supplied with the chart, but only did the Soie d'Alger original version, as a number of other colors are noticeably different.  (As much as I would enjoy, I'm sure, stitching this in luxurious silks instead of everyday cotton floss, there are thirty-nine colors in this chart!  Thirty-nine!  That's a lot of silk.)  So it looks like I'll be paying for my fickleness by having to figure out which DMC thread will best match the image on the chart.  Sigh.

  • ,

    Page One

    1777

    Just two pages left!

  • 1770

    Messing around with some 1:12 knitting.  This pattern may be obvious to folks who were knitting a few years back — it's a miniature version of Lisa Shobhana Mason's "Big Bad Baby Blanket" from the first Stitch 'n Bitch book (2004).  It's in Caron's Impressions wool/silk thread, in the "Abalone" color, wh. is very pretty.  My border probably could have been a stitch smaller all around to better match the original, but it didn't come out too badly for a first attempt, and the thread blocks very well, so I'm happy.  This was worked on 3/0 needles (1.5mm), I think — the only needle gauge I have that is small enough is from Hong Kong, so it says 17, which I am assuming is correct!

    1764

    In other news, I found a frame shop on Etsy that had something quite perfect for my "Zoé Elie" — this framer makes new frames out of old-stock molding, and so they have that antique look while being a custom size should one need it.

  • 1760

    Progress as of today.  The colors seem very vivid to me, after a string of "faded" samplers!  The little blue splodge behind Young Mr. Wisdom's head is the beginnings of a bird, but I think I might change the colors to browns, as with the two blue birds right there at the sides that is a lot of blue birds in a row, it seems to me.

    Just finished re-reading Coot Club,

    8616294494fcc3588_medium

    the fifth book in the "Swallows and Amazons" series.  Wonderful comfort reading!  The picture is I guess a publicity photo from the 1984 film, which actually isn't bad — that sounds a bit snarky, but one never knows with films of favorite books.  The children aren't quite what I'd pictured in my mind, especially Dorothea and Tom, and I don't think that either of the films I've seen (this and the 2016 "Swallows and Amazons") really capture the intelligence and sensibility of the children*, but I'm impressed that they found actual twins for Port and Starboard!  And at least this one didn't feel the need to invent silly subplots involving Russian spies (for heaven's sake).

    *Poor Susan!  I can never think without shuddering of how the 2016 version of "Swallows and Amazons" both let Susan get whacked on the head by the boom when John takes "Swallow" about and turned her into a squealing sissy when faced with the prospect of gutting a fish. 

    I've just started reading C.K. Chau's modern re-telling of Pride and Prejudice,

    GUEST_498f24d9-6633-4059-9f0f-ac0d90559bae

    now titled Good Fortune and set in New York's Chinatown.  There was a very good review of it in the Los Angeles Times not long ago, and then only a week or so later there was an article by Chau on LitHub about setting and society in Austen's novel.  It was heartening to read Chau's thoughts, which make it obvious that she thoroughly respects the original novel, so that I felt it much more likely that she wouldn't change characters' motivations or personalities so much that they conflict with Austen's plot (cough — 2022 "Persuasion"! — cough).