I've been to London to visit the Queen.
But Pussycat, Pussycat, where else have you been in the last three weeks? You haven't blogged in all that time.
Well, I've had a bit of an adventure over the past few weeks, so I guess if you really want to know where I've been, I'll just start from the beginning.
On October 1, I departed Bonnie old England, headed for France. Here is the Knitted Kitten waiting patiently for the train to Paris while I ate chocolate cake:
I was excited to take the Eurostar train through the Channel Tunnel, and experience an underwater train. It was pretty cool. I remember at one point realising I'd been in darkness for a long time and thinking that perhaps I was in the Chunnel. When I saw daylight again, I searched around out the windows to see if I could find signs. If I saw what language they were in, I'd know what country I was in. The first writing I saw was a big word written on the wall of a vineyard building. It said, simply, "Franglais". That was not helpful. There was, written smaller on the same wall the word "vins" (French for wines), so I thought there was a fair chance that we were in France. The thing that made me more sure of it was the way the architecture had changed to large farmhouses instead of terraces.
I checked with the train companies before I left about bringing knitting needles on the train. I got some conflicting answers from the people I talked to, so decided I would not put them in my hand carry. This made for a pretty unproductive journey. I started a travel journal and read some magazines but
then got motion sick so I spent the rest of the trip to Paris staring out the window. The Knitted Kitten
seemed to enjoy it, here is the Kitten grinning broadly as we approached Paris:
Paris was just a transit, I was actually headed to an organic farm in the south of France where I was to WWOOF, which is where I worked on the farm in exchange for food and lodging (look it up). I had a nice time improving my French and gardening, my other obsession apart from knitting. The Knitted Kitten enjoyed it too. Here is The Knitted Kitten with The Real Kitten that lived at the farm (or as they say in France, The Real Kitten that lived at the farm. Sketch Show? Anyone? No?).
And with a view of the farm:
Now, I won't bore all you non-gardeners with my experience as a French farmer, so here is one bit of knitting news. In preparation for my stay at the farm, I hand-spun some white alpaca yarn and dyed some with calendula, some with onion skins and some with eucalyptus, and kept some white. I knitted it into two beanies, one for each of my hosts. They appeared to be really impressed with them, and I felt quite encouraged that my art, while I do it because I love it, is also considered good by other people's standards.
I stayed at the farm for over two weeks, but there was still more in England that I wanted to do, so I changed my travel plans like a pro and went back to the Uk, which is where I am now. I took the Knitted Kitten to see the changing of the guard yesterday at Buckingham Palace. The Kitten didn't see much from inside my satchel, though.
So today I was in Suffolk. My aunt and I went to a nice craft fair in Needham. It was lovely. There were heaps of handmade things, like the hand-turned and painted wooden earrings I'm wearing as we speak. What impressed me the most though was a couple of ladies selling beautiful hand-knitted baby clothes. You could tell that hey loved their work for the sake of the work, because they were asking ridiculously low prices for them. There were traditional lace cardigans and these incredible intarsia jumpers that I could hardly believe they were willing to part with for such a small price. These ladies are inspiring for their love of knitting as an art form and just something that you do because you enjoy it.
Right now I'm working on a bright green lace scarf for a special little girl back home, and once it's finished, remind me to show you a picture of it.
That's all for now. A bientot and Cheerio,
The Knitted Kitten
