backward . . . and forward

2012 was really a pretty good year. Here are some highlights.

Work-related trips to some wonderful places . . .
haysdock
Shetland

falls
Donegal

cutsteeks
Dublin

kdworkshop1
(photo courtesy of Charlotte Monckton)
Shetland again!

My first time as a Woolfest trader.

lurking

My sister, Martin Curtis and me, meeting Sophie, Countess of Wessex (note: Helen is wearing a Manu and knitting a Betty Mouat Cowl, I am wearing a Deco and knitting a puffin sweater, and Sophie is looking at a copy of Knit Real Shetland).

wessexroom

Travelling with Tom and Bruce to our favourite Hebridean spots . . .

numberbefore
fingerhasarrived
laddich
swimming
. . . and swimming in the sea!

Working with my favourite folk . . .

melaithsetter
Mel

woolbuddies3
Sandra and Ella

jennnic
Jen and Nic

tomprerace
Tom

. . .to make a book!

covergreen

But if you asked me what was my biggest achievement in 2012, then I would say . . .

noveltyofspeed
blaithin1

. . . learning to ride a trike, and inspiring a few other people with brain injuries, balance issues and similar disabilities to give it a go as well. In 2013, I intend to try moving things up a gear, and am about to begin learning to drive again. My aim is to be pootling about in our van by June. If I say it here, then it has to happen!!

Most of all:
I am so grateful to all of you for stopping by here, for continuing to read this blog, for leaving so many lovely comments, and for supporting me in all sorts of ways in 2012.
THANKYOU, ALL OF YOU! x

I’ll be back shortly with a couple of related posts about my favourite books and yarns of 2012. . . .

In the meantime:

My pal Jen is having a New Year pattern sale. This includes a 3 for 2 deal on some of her super newly-available designs (I particularly like the Porlock socks with their gansey-inspired stitch patterns and personalised lettering) and 25% off the lovely Cloudy Apples accessories collection. Pop over to Jen’s blog to find out more.

And finally, if you are knocking about Pittenweem this Saturday and fancy meeting me and the samples from Colours of Shetland, then pop down to The Woolly Brew between 12-2pm. I’ll be signing books, too, if you’d like a copy.

Lauder morning

We got up early, and drove down to the Borders. It was a beautiful crisp morning.



When we arrived in Lauder, the sun was already turning the frost into a magical, dewy haze.



Today, the Autumn colours seemed even more deeply saturated. I want to knit everything in these tapestry blues and golds.





While Bruce and I were enjoying our morning walk, Tom was making preparations. . .

Today was the first race in this series. A hand-knitted running vest is, of course, obligatory on such occasions . . .

Off he goes!

Ah, Cross Country season . . .

graft


I am working hard. The designs for my new collection are in all in process, and I have spent the past few weeks writing patterns and knitting . . . lots of pattern writing, and lots and lots of knitting.

This sort of work requires the kind of concentrated focus I haven’t felt for quite a while, and I find myself in a place that is familiar from the experience of producing different kinds of book: holding the pieces of a gigantic puzzle and waiting for them all to slot neatly into place. So far the right things are slotting into the right places, which is pleasing. It is really rather nice to be working hard again. That said, at this stage of a project I am probably at my most antisocial and my hermit-ty tendencies are only exacerbated by the fact that I can’t, as yet, talk about the work I’m doing here. There is something of the season about this hermit-ty feeling, too. Everything has that blown-out, approaching-end-of-Summer look to it, and at this time of year I always find myself want to grasp things before they disappear, to just hurry up and do something before it is all over. I am doing my best.

Meanwhile, August is slipping away. I walk outside every day, and watch the wildflowers in the undergrowth change . . .




. . . and go to seed.






I’d better get a move on.

today’s news . . .

The weather is biblical. Again.

A beautiful moth appeared in the kitchen.

I prepared a gigantic slow-cooked curry. My preparations would have been more efficient had I not kept stopping to photograph the moth.

I crunched all the numbers for one of my new patterns (whoot!).

And, for those of you who were asking, my BMC kit, in the muted colourway above, is now back in stock over at Jamieson and Smith

Islay inspiration

I love camping: I suppose there is just something about taking the time to simply be in the outdoors that allows the world to insinuate itself upon you in the most pleasing way. And I find Islay a particularly inspiring landscape. I like to potter about just looking at stuff, and always come home with a head and notebook full of ideas. Good weather helps too, of course: being able to sit outside in the long, light evenings watching hares, and listening to the wark-wark of corncrakes is a delicious kind of treat.

The things I see around me in Scotland, and the photographs I take of them are certainly my principal source of inspiration. Oftentimes it is the “feel” of something in a photograph (or perhaps more accurately the memory the photographs invoke of the feel of a place, thing, or occasion) that sparks off an idea. Here are a few groups of images that may or may not work their way into a thought . . . that later works its way into a design.

Thrift, spent blooms, rocks and sand.


Kildalton






Bruichladdich






Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,965 other followers