there is a kitchen in my den.

No, really.


The big box in the centre, the one that says DOMSJÖ, that's the sink. Next to it, the open box, is full of hinges. The two piles next to that are, I think, drawer innards. Everything else is cabinets and doors and suchlike.

All in all, 112 pieces. They cheat a bit, though; every hinge is a "piece," so that open box is technically something like 30 pieces.

IKEA was (still is, I think) having a sale, and you know, I could never resist a sale. (Joke. Mostly.) Although — we bought everything all at once, including some appliances, and I did nearly choke at the bill. It's not the most I've ever paid for anything (hey, we have a house. And a car), but those things involved loans and bank managers and monthly payments. This was just us, our savings and a conveyor belt full of stuff. It was a little ... breathtaking. Literally.

But hey, come on. You must have known this was coming. It's been over a year since we've ripped up any floors in our house. Our crowbars were getting itchy.

one last hurrah

This morning it really felt like fall — not even early fall, but fall fall. I love early fall: the cool, crisp mornings, the earlier nights, that feeling that you're stealing time when you stay out, trying to catch that last light.

I hate actual fall. It's cold and dreary and I can never find anything to wear. I've dug out my wool socks but it's too warm for sweaters, too, so I freeze in my t-shirts (even the long sleeved ones), or boil in my t-shirt-plus-jacket. This morning I woke up before the dawn, and when I left the house I saw leaves — note the plural, not the singular — drift to the ground, and when I got to work I was still cold, and so: it's fall, actually fall. Unhappily so.

In any case, I really wasn't expecting to post about the garden again. I mean that in a good way: I have, as mentioned before, nothing that is an autumn bloomer; everything is supposed to go into dormancy soon. I suppose the cooler (but still sunny) days were good for them, though, because the garden has actually been blooming: one last hurrah before winterfall.



The 'PowWow Wild Berry' echinacea. Two blooms means that it's not a fluke, I think. It's not as wild and fervent as it would be at, say, the height of August, but then, what in the garden is? The echinacea is a repeat bloomer, and can bloom into October — but generally only when it's established. So this is a good sign.

And the 'Amber Sun' roses, after a period of dormancy — I had stopped deadheading because I wanted the bushes to start preparing for winter — well, they had a little resurgence, too.



And so did 'The Fairy' roses, which haven't bloomed consistently since late July, but now have masses of buds.



And finally, I saw this on the last remaining rose, 'Graham Thomas.'



I took this picture last week, and the bud hasn't opened, so I hope I'm not counting chicks prematurely. This rose is the only one of the five that didn't bloom, which is already a much better average than I could have hoped for. It still seemed reasonably healthy, though — and it has a branch — vine? — that is reaching near five feet, its nominal grown-in height, so I think it will be fine. But flowers would be lovely. They are — they should be, I am hoping that they will be — a buttery yellow.

Into the fall

Fall is my favourite time of year — the crispness in the air, the deeper, darker colors, the clothes. I'm not a great fan of what comes next, and November is never not depressing (much like March) — but the transition time, right now, the still-hot days and the cool nights, is perfect.

Fall knitting, too, is deeply satisfying. It's the timeliness of it. Mid-winter, all you want to do is knit fast as you can, before hypothermia sets in — and Christmas knitting is only gratifying after it's done, not during. I never knit sweaters in the spring; there's just no motivation. And summers are for socks or shawls or other small things, something to take the edge off and keep your hand in, but small enough that you aren't sitting with a pile of delicious alpaca in your lap — because, trust me, nothing woolly is delicious in 40-degree heat.

But now! I am already well on my way. Before August ended, I had cast on a small cardigan for the Spanish Inquisition — Olivia Petit by Connie Chang Chinchio. I love the back detail.


It's lovely in the original cream, but I had quite a bit of Manos del Uruguay Silk Blend left over from another sweater project, so in it went. It's 70% merino, 30% silk; super soft and warm but not, unfortunately, machine washable — I'm less picky about that in my own sweaters, frankly, and as I was anxious to get started and the yarn store had yet to get their fall yarns in, I decided to overlook that small deficiency — and it is super adorable. I knit the 12-month size; the Spanish Inquisition is on the small side. It's a little bit big on her, which means that it's perfect.

The super cute buttons are dyed mother-of-pearl from Fyberspates. I happened to be on their web site (investigating their yarns, of course), and they were, simply, perfect. One thing I have not been able to source to my satisfaction, in Toronto, are buttons. I'm sure that perfect buttons — perhaps even the perfect button store — exist, somewhere, in this city, but I have been unable to find them. I even deputized my mother — so far, nothing. I have lucked out, here and there, but these are the only buttons I've used so far that are both perfect for the project, and perfect by themselves.

It's been very cold in the mornings this past week, and particularly this weekend, so we've already put the sweater to use. I would say that she loves it, but honestly? She doesn't really have an opinion about clothes. Shoes, on the other hand, she definitely has an opinion on: they belong in her hands, or in her mouth, but not on her feet. Never, ever.

And now, something for me. This is a sweaters' worth of Fyberspates Scrumptious 4-ply in "Water."


This is a yarn I've been meaning to try for a while, but haven't been able to find in North America. (WEBS carries it now.) It's 55% merino, 45% silk — do you sense a pattern? It's because I love things that drape, and nothing drapes like silk (or bamboo — but that's another story).

It is going to be a Pas de Valse — actually, it's already most of one; I've only got most of one sleeve and the crochet edging to go. It's a surprisingly fast knit. (I know, this isn't the best in-progress picture ever. I just wanted to capture the beauty of the silk stockinette. This colour is perfect for a blue-grey obsessive like me — incidentally, the colour in the photo above is slightly more accurate. It's getting harder to take photographs in natural light, now.)


I originally knit this pattern when it was first published, out of some BMFA Wooboo (which is 40% bamboo). Unfortunately it hasn't held up very well — the yarn was a bit thicker than called for (it had originally been for another project), and I had had to do some re-calculations on the fly, and so it was always a bit on the larger side. Now it's a bit misshapen and droopy. I love it, though; it's a staple of my fall wardrobe, so this year I decided it was time to knit a new one. I'm very excited.

I haven't decided yet what I will knit after this is finished. Socks? A shawl? (A lace project in the winter is never remiss. I may knit shawls in the summer — but fall-winter is when I start them.) It's too early to think about Christmas, so this knitting time is all about me, me, me. It's not often that I can say that anymore, so I will revel in it while I can.

weekly bloom: into the fall

I'd meant to post at least once more in August, but last weekend (and then this week) has just been a mess of epic proportions — personally, professionally, emotionally — so, no. (Not to fret; everyone here is healthy and hale. And the storm has blown over, more or less.)

Since the last "weekly bloom" post (which was, eek, much longer than a week ago), nothing much has happened. The good: all of the plants I bought in the second round have survived, even thrived. The mystery orange coneflowers have even re-bloomed. The purple echinacea have not, but there is lots of new, vigorous growth — I didn't deadhead them, because I actually want to encourage seeding for next year, and it looks, at the very least, that the two plants are well established and will come back. Even the Oriental poppies have been throwing out new growth, and one of the hellebores, which looked like it had died in the July drought, has come back. So the garden is good.

But nothing is blooming, per se, except for the 'Amber Sun' roses (which went through yet another round of profusion a week ago. I am deeply in love with these roses). So you haven't missed much.

This is what the garden looks like now:
Unfortunately, a lot of that greenery are weeds. I'd meant to do some weeding on Tuesday, but the torrential rains put a stop to that. So the garden is a little bit scraggly, a little bit neglected — but nothing is dead, and it's easier to subtract than it is to add. In gardening, I will take my victories where I can get them.

This is going to be the last weekly bloom post, though. The garden is pretty much at the end — some of the echinacea are holding on, but there's a crispness in the air now, and it won't be much longer before the garden dies back. (The only fall-bloomer I had planted were the Japanese anemones, and they did not, unfortunately, survive the drought.) There will probably be some more sporadic gardening posts, but I think the beginning of September is a good time to put the weekly gardening post to bed for a while. And it's fall, and there are so many other things to write about; I've already started my fall knitting. For example. And isn't it the perfect time to start writing about cozy things?

Thank you for sharing my garden with me.

photoblog: the Spanish Inquisition is one!

I promised a wrap-up of the Spanish Inquisition's first party, didn't I? And that was almost a month ago. Bad me. My only excuse is that July was unbelievably busy — the Spanish Inquisition started daycare (I've mentioned that), which means that she a) hasn't been sleeping as well, and b) has already brought back daycare germ factory germs, which are better crafted, more resilient, and more deadly than regular hoi polloi germs. They've got some really good quality control, that germ factory — sadly so, for us.

But! Her party! We had it at our house, and it was for her little friends — the neighbourhood 2011 baby brigade (with an honourable membership for one who was born around Christmas, 2010) — so there was lots of opportunity for crafting and decoration. Because I am still me, and that is what I do.

The spread:

The cake:

The favours:



And finally, last but not least, the birthday girl:
The party kept her up a bit past her bedtime, so she was a little stunned.