Its time to tell you about my yarn colours! I’ve created seven new shades for Buachaille, and all have been inspired by different aspects of the landscape in which I live and love to walk: its flora, its fauna, and of course its weather.
Here’s what inspired Buchaille’s seven Scottish shades!
1. Highland Coo
These noble beasties are a true highland icon, and I have long been fascinated by the wonderful colours of their coats, which range from the palest caramel, through a deep russet, to a rich moorit brown. As I’m out walking, I frequently find myself picking up scraps and samples of coo hair which have been left behind on trees and fences, and wishing I had enough to spin up . . .I decided that dyeing some yarn was easier than shearing a coo. . . Highland Coo is a rich autumnal rusty-orange colour.
Living in Edinburgh for a decade, one became used to the haar – the cold mist that rolled in across the city from the North Sea. Haar – a particularly lovely Scots word – really captures the quality of Scottish mist: light and chill and softly hanging. Fog and mist lend the highlands their characteristic atmosphere, and make the rich colours of the landscape seem even more brilliant by contrast. Haar is a natural fleece shade, a light and airy silver-grey with lovely variegated tones.
The Western Isles abound with beautiful beaches, and to my mind there are few more beautiful than those on the isle of Islay. Here, enjoying a sunny day above Machir bay, the waves beat across the white sand, and the sea is a glorious shade of blue-green. Buachaille’s evocative and deeply saturated blue-green shade is named for Islay, the queen of the Hebrides.
The green woodpecker is perhaps more often heard than seen due to its call which lends the bird its popular name of “yaffle.” We’ve named one of our yarn shades yaffle after the plumage of this beautiful creature: a luminous and saturated mid-green with yellow tones.
A deep, dark, variegated grey is perhaps the most characteristic colour of the highlands. When I’m out walking close to home, and the sky turns this colour in the west, I can time the minutes to the moment I’m likely to get a soaking. Twenty minutes and counting. . . better get moving. Squall is a natural fleece shade, named for our stormy highland skies.
The ptarmigan is a kind of small grouse. It is a hardy highland bird, that has adapted to, and thrives in some truly challenging mountain conditions. In the summer, the ptarmigan’s brown and buff plumage camouflages it against the rocky landscape, and in the winter, it changes colour to a lovely creamy white, in order to blend in perfectly against the snow. With its beady eyes and fluffy feet, this bird is a real highland character, and Buachaille in its un-dyed, natural state is named for the ptarmigan in its winter plumage.
7. Between Weathers
Between weathers is an expression often heard in Scotland that refers to more than meteorology. Literally, it is that patch of blessed blue sky between one wet and windy front and another. But it also suggests the desire to seize the moment quickly, and to get on with things, when the day is fine. The weather must and will turn, so make haste, and make the most of that blue sky while it lasts. Between weathers is a rich mid-blue, the colour of the sky above Beinn Dorain at the top of the photograph above.
So there’s the palette: Highland Coo; Haar; Islay; Yaffle; Squall; Ptarmigan and Between Weathers. Developing these shades has been one of the most interesting (and heart-in-the-mouth) things I’ve ever done. I have found the process fascinating and am incredibly pleased with the results! In the next post I’ll tell you more about that process . . . and should also be able to show you some actual yarn
For those of you who have questions about the yarn, or who are having trouble pronouncing Buachaille, I’ve created a new FAQ page, which includes lots of sound files to help you!
We had a wonderful day.
We walked across the fields and over the causeway to Eilean Mor
Lucy played “Ho Ro, My Nut Brown Maiden”
Mel read this short piece by Yeats:
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
We made our vows, exchanged our rings, and were married here.
The ceremony was solemn and joyful and deeply moving.
Bruce looked on.
We toasted each other from a quaich given to us by my parents, with a Gaelic blessing.
Mìle fàilte dhuit le d’bhréid,
Fad do ré gun robh thu slàn.
Móran làithean dhuit is sìth,
Le d’mhaitheas is le d’nì bhi fàs.
(A thousand welcomes to you with your marriage kerchief,
may you be healthy all your days.
May you be blessed with long life and peace,
may you grow old with goodness and with riches.)
We are very happy
Thankyou, Mel and Gordon, for sharing our day with us.
Thankyou, Lynn and everyone at the Finlaggan trust for allowing us to marry in this wonderful spot.
Thankyou, Lucy, for piping so beautifully.
Thankyou Sharon, for being such a warm and wonderful registrar. We couldn’t have asked for anyone better to celebrate our marriage.
Thankyou, Isle of Islay. Our favourite place.
Thankyou, all of you, for being there with us in spirit.
Love from Kate and Tom (and Bruce, of course) x
AHOY THERE! Today’s yoke is called Keith Moon (bear with me . . . )
I wanted to include a sixties-inspired, mod yoke in this collection: a sweater that would be really easy for even a beginner-knitter to create but which also had the potential to look really sleek and stylish. I love the simple boat-neck shape of many sixties jumpers and thought it would be fun to combine this with the straightforward construction of a seamless yoke.
My inspiration came from the tri-colour roundels with which British mods adorned their clothing and scooters:
. . . perhaps most famously sported by Keith Moon, The Who’s explosively talented drummer.
As you can see, I’ve taken the idea of the mod roundel as three decreasing rings of different colours, and applied this to the circular structure of the seamless yoke, swapping out the positions of the red and blue.
This is one of those sweaters where the finishing really makes a difference. The hems, belled cuffs, and boat-neck collar are all creating with facings of contrasting shades, which are neatly finished off with i-cord.
The yarn is Lett Lopi (yes, its my new favourite). I found it very interesting that a few tailored details could give a really sleek finish to a yarn that is sometimes regarded in a more, um, rustic context. How I love a facing!
I’ve styled my Keith Moon in a rather nautical fashion . .
. . . but I think this is a very versatile jumper with which a variety of different looks could be achieved – Mel has knitted a really striking sample in jade, black, and silver, and I also think Keith would look completely amazing worked in a single shade of charcoal or a lighter grey. As soon as I made my sweater, though, I felt that its red, blue and white would work particularly well in a maritime setting. . .
. . . so we went to Portnahaven, on the island of Islay, where, on a beautiful, calm, sunny Sunday, the colours of the sea and boats and sky and jolly paintwork really seemed to speak directly to those of Keith Moon!
The seals were singing out at sea while we shot these photographs around the village – it was a lovely morning.
I find that, if I block it correctly, I have no problem wearing Lett Lopi next to my skin, and here is my top tip to finish your jumper for maximum smoothness and softness: block it out in luke warm water with a solution of a good quality hair-conditioner for at least 30 minutes — I use one of the straightening kind, that is designed for human hair (though I do know someone who swears on the transformative effects of Mane and Tail – the original horse-to-human crossover.)
A few of you have been asking about the relationship between the print and digital versions of Yokes. Well, there are two basic options:
Option 1: Print + digital. If you purchase a print copy of the book, you will receive a complementary download code to enable you to access the digital version.
Option 2: Digital only: You can also choose to purchase the digital book separately, without a printed copy.
The book costs exactly the same for both options, and the digital-only version will be made available on Ravelry after the book has started to ship, on or just after November 17th.
Here is another new yoke – this one is named Westering Home
I developed the idea for this design across on the ferry to Islay, one of my favourite Hebridean locations. On my frequent trips there, I often find that Westering Home – Hugh Roberton’s famous 1920s song – pops into in my head, and it seemed an appropriate name for this cosy cabled garment.
If you would like to travel with me to Islay, and hear Norma Munro’s beautiful rendition of this song, press play. Warning: Watching this video may create an instant earworm and / or a desire to visit the Hebrides.
We had great fun shooting the photographs on a westering journey. We began west of our home, in mainland Argyll . . .
. . . took more photographs on the Islay ferry . . .
. . . and completed the shoot at Kildalton, on the island of Islay itself.
. . .where Bruce was keen to join in the fun.
Westering Home is a large, loose, coat-like garment worn with positive ease. To create the wrapped opening, each front is doubled to the same width as the back, and the yoke shaping is accomplished by working decreases between the cable panels.
Carefully blocking and steaming the bottom of the garment more than the top, lends this design some swing, allowing the cable and rib panels to fall in a slightly pleated manner.
The cabled fronts of this cardigan can be worn open or doubled across the body and depending on the amount of ease preferred, can be adjusted and buttoned to suit.
The yarn is Artesano aran – a robust, warm wool / alpaca blend of which I am inordinately fond. It comes in some lovely complex shades and knits up into fantastically squishy cables.
I have to say that this a yoke design I’m really pleased with – the pattern is really simple and logical to knit, it works up all in one piece, and the end result is a cosy, dramatic and versatile winter garment that should suit pretty much everyone.
If you’d like to see more information about Westering Home, I’ve now created a pattern page on Ravelry.
For those of you who have been asking, everything is going to plan with the book, and I will activate the shop for pre-orders as soon as we have gone to print, which is looking like it will be next week.
1: Bruce loves the beach
8. Fine weather for walking
9, 10: The first time in four and half years that, while away, I have not been bothered in one way or another by my health or my physical limitations. Am I really so much better? Or have I merely finally adapted to my “new normal”? Either way, it felt pretty good to climb up behind that crag, to see that view.
Tom likes to run the Islay half marathon. Not only does this race take place in one of our favourite places, but the Islay half marathon is always a grand occasion, with wonderful local support. The Islay half marathon is also sponsored by Ardbeg. Ardbeg is one of Islay’s eight distilleries and the whisky it produces is Tom’s undoubted favourite of any usquebaugh. Ardbeg is very generous with its sponsorship: all competitors receive a wee dram or two at the end of the race, and there are a dizzying array of prizes, most of them whisky related. Tom is in no way a pot-hunter, but it is fair to say that the prospect of a tasty bottle of Ardbeg has certainly spurred him onward on each of the seven occasions he’s run this race.
Here’s the start of this year’s Islay half marathon.
. . . here’s Tom shortly after setting off:
. . . despite his recent appendix-related woes, and subsequent lack of training, he had a great run, finishing in 1 hour 25 minutes and coming in 3rd Veteran (that’s the third bloke over 40, in case you were wondering). We were agog at the prize giving: would the 3rd Veteran actually win a bottle of . . . Ardbeg?
Yes indeedy ! And not just any Ardbeg . . . Tom’s prize was a bottle of Uigeadail!
Uigeadail is named after the “dark and mysterious” loch which provides the Ardbeg distillery with its distinctive water. Tom is such a great fan of this whisky, and was so intrigued by this loch, that we actually took a pilgrimage on foot to it five years ago last winter. It was indeed dark. And mysterious. And very, very cold. Here is Tom at Loch Uigeadail in January 2009 . . .
. . . and here he is having imbibed several prize-winning drams of its namesake in August 2014.
Hello! Tom and Bruce and I have just returned from a wonderful few days in Islay – one of our very favourite places to be. I’ll tell you more about our trip shortly, but for now, here are some photos of yesterday’s sunset over Machir Bay.
This past weekend I turned 40. I am not too keen on birthday celebrations, and a quiet weekend in one of my favourite places was just what was required.
So though we weren’t celebrating my birthday, we definitely had cause for celebration . . . , having just had an offer accepted on a lovely house!
Our new place really is absolutely wonderful and it is frankly a massive relief to have this part of the process sorted out at last.
Meanwhile, in Edinburgh, the renovation work continues. The flat now features a shiny new bath, a plumbed-in kitchen sink, and a fantastic new floor. There is, however, no electricity in the kitchen or bathroom, no oven, no internet connection, and an awful lot of dust. I confess I find the nothing-is-where-it-is-supposed-to-be business extremely disconcerting, and am a bit rubbish at dealing with it. But every day I count my lucky stars for the good friends and neighbours with whom I’m surrounded, on whose accommodating kindness, stupendous cooking and modern ‘facilities’ I have been able to rely over the past few weeks.
Anyway, I think I can now safely say that the past few months’ upheaval has a happy END in sight. I am tremendously excited about moving to our new place – and most of all to Tom and I having our own shared space again – as opposed to our two lives being divided between an Edinburgh building site and a Glasgow bedsit. I don’t want to jinx the move by talking too much about it, but I am sure you will find that I won’t be able to shut up about it once we’re settled in.
The light on Islay is truly amazing. I am often struck by how, particularly when there is very little wind, the golden light from the West on the machair and dunes brings objects to life in what I can only think of as their own unique haecceitas. I have only just returned, but looking at these pictures I long to be back there again.