Tag Archives: #Daughter

The devil’s in the detail


No, it didn’t take me a week to do this. Just part of a day where I also cooked up some two gallons of apple sauce + odd domestic chores.

I’m still kind of proud of it. It’s a devil’s food cake, and most of it went with my daughter to treat her and her scout friends who had a hard night scaring children at a Halloween do. A big one in Danish terms, about 2000 people all in all though not all went to be scared by their black mass.

This year’s theme was religions. Hence the black mass. And the devil’s food adorned with bones making up an inverted cross made of sugar paste.

And the rest of it tasted good too. Hell yeah!



Shock socks

Shocks can take many forms. I was just on holiday with a friend and very keen knitter with whom I went to see her local yarn shop. That shop was where I bought the yarn for my red sweater (see previous posts for snaps of said beauty), and I was duly admired for the job by the owner. Both these women – friend and shop owner – have a tendency to hoard yarn, the latter making it a sideline job. When they learned that I refused to be tempted by something specific in her stock though sorely tempted I was, they wondered why.

I told them I’m trying to finish my (small) stash. All of it or as near as possible. Both were incredulous. The owner used the term “scraping the bottom”. My friend thought it highly unwise to use up so much there was nothing around for inspiration. I dream of the extra space it will give me as I plan to change parts of my wardrobe as I finish new things for myself.

The current portion of stash in the process of elimination is my sock yarn stash. Down to enough for two pairs + the one on the needles right now. And they are part of another type of shock:


One would hardly think it possible to dye wool in such vibrant neon colours, yet there it is. 80% wool. The 100 gr. ball proved enough for 1 whole pair and the parts on the needles. The rest will be black for biggest contrast. They are for my daughter who will no doubt wear them proudly. And to the danger of everyone else’s eyes.


Oh yes and for steady followers: I finished the embroidery. And forgot to take a snap. Sorry.

The gentle art of knotting blackmail

Or: Yard upon yard of cotton threat.

As epople following this blog may remember I started knitting yet anoy eldest daughter, the scout and aspiring geologist (both are outdoor things. She needs sweaters). She has a third feature to her: She is a mess-maker. And I´m an evil mother. She has been left to her mess while studying for three exams, one of which was a re-examination first time failed. After that it was clear out room time.

So did she begin to do so straight away? Of course not. Procrastination, excuses, endless talk and no action. Only because of a threat to begin throwing all her things out the window to the garden did she finally do something.

To most of the room. And so I decided to reward each still remaining item of mess cleared up with a row or two on her sweater in progress. Which leads me back to the word “knotting”. It’s “not knitting”, pointedly so.