Celebrating Change

Dear readers,

 Two e-mails of note arrived in our mail boxes this week.  The first stirred up feelings of intense maternal pride and the second, well, it just made me plain happy.

On Tuesday, whilst waiting for Héloïse to arrive home after dusk from her theatre class, I hesitantly logged into her account, as she had pleadingly requested the night before, and saw the mail she'd been waiting for.  Natural Sciences Interview, it read.  How could I not read on?  And then I jumped up and danced before my my younger children's surprised eyes: 'She's got an interview at Cambridge University', I shrieked!  Needless to say we all danced for quite a while after that.  And downed champagne too!  The interview will be taking place on Tuesday 17th December at Trinity Hall.

The second e-mail quietly landed in my mailbox yesterday.  It was short and terribly sweet.  My Phd thesis supervisor wrote that she would be delighted for me to return to complete my Phd thesis the following academic year.

 And with those few lines I felt as though I had returned home.

 Shortly after Angélique was born, almost four years ago, I was obliged to put my thesis to one side.  It was frustrating and it was the right thing to do at the time.  I cannot express how much I love my field of study - Baroque aesthetics - and how thrilled I am to have this chance to finish.  It is necessary too.  I have noticed the quality of my writing slipping and I need the guidance of my WONDERFUL supervisor who is brilliant and meticulous; two qualities we do not share!  It will be a tough, glorious year and I am so very excited.  So, change is afoot although it is not imminent.  It will change my perspective on creating too; of that I am certain.

To celebrate, in particular, Héloïse's good news, I slipped Miss Twinkle Toes onto my shop shelves today.  The last few weeks have been ridiculously and wonderfully busy with customer orders and I am happy to have had the time to put this little lady at least on sale before Christmas.  She is my last ballet-themed hare and is a bit of a celebration in herself: pink silk - called Rose Cherubin and sparkly linen purchased from Paris, ballet shoes and stars embroidered on her ankles with silver and silk threads.  My favourite thing was using The Uncommon Thread's wispy fingering merino yarn in the fairytale colourway; Spumoni to make her ballet wrap-cardigan.  It makes for delightful small-scale knitting on 2.75mm double-pointed needles!

If you think you know somebody who might like to give her a home you may find her right over here.

 I like change, mostly, although some would say I am not always so good at dealing with the unexpected.  How about you?  Do you revel or flee from change?  Have you made decisions already about next year?  I would like to read about them, big or small.

A bientôt,

Stephanie

Sugar Mice And Other Birthday Treats

Dear readers,

To paraphrase the French writer, Erik Orsenna, in his book dedicated to sugar, bitterness, sourness and saltiness bring us back to our everyday lives whereas sweetness always evokes an air of festivity.

Sugar holds magical powers.  It can unlock the gates to an enchanted kingdom of childhood memories.  Biting into red lacquered toffee apples - can you hear the music of the fun fair? - nibbling paper-thin, buttery pancakes on Shrove Tuesday with dribbling white sugar and lemon juice, dropping a generous dollop of strawberry jam into a bowl of creamy rice pudding, deftly pinching a piece of Christmas cake marzipan behind your mother's back (was I the only one to do that?) and the unequalled treat of being presented a vast assortment of chocolates to choose from.

Caster, granulated, confectioners, Muscovado, Demerara, liquid sugars both amber and white. Regardless of its multifaceted forms, sugar always has the ability to metamorphose into different forms simply by the application of heat.  Who has not succumbed to the delights of making jams and marmelade or marvelled, whlst stirring and waiting patiently for the soft ball stage, at the deepening colour of caramel and the aroma which holds the promise of bowls of ice cream with lashings of caramel or fudge sauce?  Reach the hard crack stage instead and you will be subjecting your teeth to the pleasures of brittle toffee.  For me the humble meringue is the most miraculous of all. Combine two ingredients, sugar and egg whites, to create clouds of white billows, creamy inside with a crisp exterior.  A most heavenly delicacy.

Dani Sunshine's knitting pattern, Brook, is like inviting an old friend for tea; hours of peaceful pleasure spiced up with moments of frivolity and laughter.  Those dinky twisted cables are deliciously addictive; take a peek here and here for proof.  I called this pullover Coloured Sugars.  The Uncommon Thread colourway, Manuscript, makes me think of raw cane sugar.  And don't your just love that spring-like assortment of colours in the stripes?  I bought a skein of Koigu Painter's Palette one Easter, on a whim, and chose to knit it double here (it's a fingering weight) for the rows.  The colours remind me of a display of flavoured sugars I spotted in this fabulous tea and coffee shop in the Loire Valley town of Blois a fortnight ago.

My birthday cake - yes, yes, it's my birthday - simply had to be Maple Syrup Cake this year.  It's quick to bake, fluffy and, doused with richly flavoured syrup, becomes as sticky as a steamed sponge pudding.  The best part for me was watching the children's faces light up as each evoked their special memories of enjoying this cake, some of which had slipped my mind.  Tristan recalled eating it one snowy sunday with candles and his eyes simply sparkled.  I found this recipe once in an old Sainsbury's recipe book but I've made it so many times that I know it by heart.  It's delicious with vanilla ice cream, strawberries in late spring, or slices of apples sautéed in a little salted butter with a dusting of cinnamon.

You will need:

250 ml (8 fl oz) maple syrup

125g (4oz) self-raising flour

125g (4oz) sugar

125g (4oz) softened butter

2 eggs

2-3 tablespoons milk

1. Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°C and butter a dish.

2. Heat the syrup in a saucepan until it comes to the boil.

3. Sift the flour into a large bowl and add the sugar.  Mix.

4. Add the butter and eggs and mix until the mixture becomes creamy.

5. Add the milk and mix.

6. Pour the hot maple syrup into the prepared dish and spoon the cake batter on top.

7. Bake for around 40 minutes.

8. Remove from the oven and turn upside down onto a pretty plate while still warm.

Those tiny pink mice and rabbits, gazing up at silvery snowballs and flakes on a sparkly linen, were designed for a sweet girl who will be celebrating her fifth birthday tomorrow (five is SO much better than forty-five); a gift by way of showing my appreciation for her most generous grand-mother.  As I reached out for my favourite The Gentle Art hand-dyed cotton embroidery threads in the Spun Sugar and Pink Champage colours, unsure of what to make,  my mind conjured up SUGAR MICE!  Another childhood memory.  Do let me know, incidentally if you would like the reference for the sparkly linen.*  It is stunning even though you can barely catch a glimpse of the glimmering threads on the pictures I've taken.  The hare, Miss Twinkle Toes, is also made from the same linen.  You cannot have too much of a good thing, right?

 

There have been A LOT of hares and a handful of mice being created behind the scenes (all to be seen over at Madame Millefeuilles) in time for Christmas.  They've been clamouring to be displayed here this evening but only two were invited, Miss Twinkle Toes and Mademoiselle Violetta (with twenty five hand-embroidered sugared violets trimming her skirt).  I told them it would not do to bombard my readers with a gaggle of giggly linen creatures.  These little ladies will be requiring some boy companions soon, I think.  After Christmas, I hope.

I've been counting my days in hare parts and garments these past months which, some would say, is a sign of obssession.  That is the way I am.  One evening this week, dear Héloïse invited me to the theatre as a birthday treat.  We saw Molière's Les Fâcheux, written in haste for the unfortunate Nicolas Foquet, Louis XIV's minister of finances, for the grand festivities at Vaux-le-Vicomte in 1661.  Whilst I sat through this remarkable represenation, given by La Fabrique à Théatre, I marvelled at the Baroque dance, music and burlesque, and realised that in some sense I had lost my way a little over the past few years.  I felt tears of joy pricking my eyes and felt as though I had returned home into the world of Baroque art.  Now I feel quite fired up and pretty certain that change is afoot for me.

I've think I've rabbited on long enough about sugar and treats, my friends!  I leave you with a picture of my sweet-toothed Tristan, my favourite musician, who always has a creative project up his coat sleeve!

Thank you SO much to all those who take the time to leave a message here.  I know how busy you all are and I truly appreciate the time you take to write a few words.

A bientôt,

Stéphanie

ps Joining in with sweet Hannapat's Weekly Bake. 

* Here is the reference for the sparkly linen as requested by some kind souls: Zweigart 32ct Belfast Lurex Linen.  Now, I found it pretty tricky to find some in the UK but purchased mine from my favourite central Paris shop, Des Fils Et Une Aiguille which has a fabulous online shop too.

Stitching Lovebirds And Flowers

 

Dear readers,

Whilst sending e-mails back and forth to my online Fairy Godmother this week, she and I both expressed a heartfelt gratitude for the precious friendships blogging has generated for us.  I am sure this sentiment is shared by many of you.  Shortly after my cautious foray into the world of blogging two summers ago, I came across the artist Celia's Purple Podded Peas which rapidly became one of my favourite visiting places.  I found she struck the perfect balance between chatting informatively about her garden (and beloved hens) and sharing beautfully written posts about exhibitions she had visited which would include intriguing snippets of cultural history.  And her artwork?  Well, as many of you will know, it's quite simply stunning.  It didn't take me long to purchase her famous linocut print The Birds' Wedding Day for my son Tristan's Valentine's Day birthday.  He loves it almost as much as I do!



Late this summer I received an e-mail from Celia explaining how, after years of dreaming of adapting her block print designs for a repeat pattern for fabric, she had launched her first fabric collection.  She went on to ask whether I would be interested in receiving some samples of these natural fibre materials and turning them into something special. Needless to say, I jumped at this golden opportunity.  This collection, which is based on The Birds" Wedding Day, comes in three colourways; Ruby, Sea, and Stone.  I eagerly awaited my parcel, wrapped in white tissue paper, which bore the tantalising label SEW ME. Those fabrics provoked many a daydream - what would I make with them? - and a little frustration too! I knew that I would have to wait a while before I could start snipping and sewing them as I had a fair amount of hare and mice orders to attend to first.  My frustration grew as I saw the beautiful work performed by three ladies: Gina, Tracy, and Sue with their special material bundles over the course of October.

And then my wonderful husband took our three children away to his parents' home in Brittany for the weekend and I put my hares and mice aside and got busy!  The best thing about this project was slipping out of my aesthetics and trying to slip into Celia's.  I wanted to respect her colour schemes and themes: hearts, lovebirds, flowers, and butterflies.

I started with a simple needle case, stitched from Celia's sea small sprigs in Retired Kona Cotton, which I padded with natural cotton batting and trimmed with 6mm glass beads gifted to me by the French author and artist, Facile Cécile.  I added a sprinkling of 1930s lace flowers.  I can see myself making dozens of these and adding embroidered embellishments, trimmings and beads: they are delightfully addictive.



And then I moved onto making a fabric basket - perfect for holding one of my many knitting or embroidery projects -  using, this time, Sea Hearts in linen/cotton canvas.  Celia's beautiful heart motifs beg, I believe, a squarish construction to show them off.  This could not have been more simple to create with cotton batting to keep the sides sturdy.  The satin ribbon ties provided a touch of red.  I wanted to add a finishing touch to honour Celia's style.  I chose to cross stitch one of the panels with a red heart, flower and bird pattern from the Italian designer Renato Parolin. (His work is exquisite and I have a particular fondness for his large scale monochrome intricate tree designs.)

If you would like to take a peek at Celia's fabrics (I think the Ruby collection is simply perfect for Christmas gifts; it's so festive) you can find the entire range in her Spoonflower shop.  Her artwork may be found here.

 

Thank you Celia for giving me this golden opportunity to have so much fun!

 

A bientôt,

 

Stéphanie

 

 

ps I have been thinking long and hard about this blog of mine.  My créations are keeping me very busy at the moment but I feel the need to make a few changes here, for the best I hope!  Suffice to say I have a lot of dreams and creative ideas in the pipeline.

pps I wish I could have taken these pictures in natural daylight but the weather has been very dismal and soggy these past few days.

Dandelion Clocks

 

This is the time when everything drops into the earth.  In spring there is an upward movement all around one, with a lift in plants and trees.  Now it is the time of weight, when seed pod and berry, fruit and leaf fall and return to the earth.  It is truly the Fall, a lovelier word for this season than autumn.

Clare Leighton, Four Hedges (Little Toller Books: Stamford, 2010), p107.

Seedpods decorate the wayside and gardens with an Orient of riches.  They sit atop long stems and, weighing more than the leaves, rise to a certain architectural beauty.  Dry brown purses, spindly candelabras, round pepper shakers and round-hipped cups; with one thwack they scatter seeds higgledy-piggledy, sprinkling a chaotic hoard on the ground beside each plant.

Don't you think the dried-up flowers and chattery pods of some plants look almost unworldly?  Queen Anne's lace pods look like ethereal birds' nests when they are closed.  Asters form fluffy pods and dandelion clocks full moons of silky parachutes.  Autumn may be the season during which everything falls to the ground, transformed with time into decaying matter, but dandelion seeds, with one puff, become windborne, propelled into a floating trance which I almost envy; a far cry from the squashed damsons and decaying quinces I tread into the sodden pathway on my daily walks with Gaspard.

 I may be on the constant lookout for flashes of colour during these autumnal walks but I am, in truth, craving subdued hues these days, a little like the drab, so eloquently described by dear Knitsofacto Annie on her latest post entitled A Dingy Day.  During my evenings of knitting last week - such a treat - I snubbed my fabulous stash of mostly kaleidoscopic yarns and reached out for a single skein of Madelinetosh Merino Light in the delicate colourway Calligraphy.

It was time to create something for the eldest daughter of the household (our feisty youngest is very well served in the knitted garment department) and the beautiful cowl pattern, Dandelion Days, won instant favour with Héloïse.  Not in the lustrous yellow of the original pattern however but in the colour of dandelion clocks.  It is a perfect pattern with four eighteen row repeats, once the eyelet edging is completed, each row divided into twelve clusters of sixteen stitches.  A perfect balance between varied and meditative knitting.

My Ravelry notes for Dandelion Clocks may be found here. 

On a fraught day of university application deadlines during those first cold-ridden days of half-term (I can truthfully say that the final year of Baccalauréat preparation in France is intensive and exhausting) we grabbed an hour to be outside in the waning sunshine.  Both mother and daughter were pale and a little on edge - it was one of those days - but Héloïse graciously succeeded in shaking off a day's accumulation of tension infront of the eager camera.

Not all days are plain sailing, you will agree, but I choose to recall the glint of the October sunlight on my eldest daughter's hair instead of my unnecessarily sharp words: her pleasure whilst watching this cowl blocking on her bed instead of the nagging sadness that I am not in England with my parents on their respective birthdays this week.  Surely, in retrospect, the good moments prevail over the not-so-good?  I am mostly endeavouring, these days, to find the balance between the thrill and the inevitable wrench of my first-born daughter leaving our home in a few fleeting months.

So here's to those few months and savouring them to the full before this silken dandelion seed of a wonderful daughter floats off to take root somewhere else.

Before I leave I wish to share my huge admiration for the courage of this lady who has, through the past exceedingly difficult months, never ceased to capture and share her own unique and marvellous sense of beauty.  And finally to express my gratitude for another inspiring woman who always makes me feel ridiculously happy after reading each and every one of her blog posts.  Thank you, Lori, for the precious giveaway yarn and sea glass you sent from California to France.  Be patient a little while I transform your sea-coloured yarn into something worthy of its beauty.  Pictures to follow!

A bientôt,

Stephanie

Tchaikovsky And A Teacup

Dear readers,

I blame Tchaikovsky for my obssession with themes and images.  My first trip to London to see The Nutcracker took place when I was seven, thanks to Robert Mayer's Concerts For Schoolchildren.  You will understand that, as a child, half the fun with such an outing was the idea of taking a coach with a gaggle of school friends, and a scumptious picnic. The concert may even have taken second place in my list of fun things that day.  But that ballet, well, suffice to say it marked me for life.  I was entranced by the notion one could create music, a choreography, and a costume to portray such things as hot chocolate, tea, or coffee and the scenery for Act IV, The Land Of Sweets conquered my imagination completely.  In other words, I discovered that a theme, such as drinks or sweets in this case, could incite a spectacular variety of artistic créations. 

Of course, if I am to lay blame on Tchaikovsky, Hoffmann should bear his share of responsibility too; the composer's libretto being a sweetened version of the German author's dark and provocative tale written in 1816.  A while back I explained why the main message behind Hoffmann's story struck a chord with me, namely the importance to free children's imaginations so that they may fulfill their desires.  To paraphrase Hoffmann, the most wonderful things may be seen if one has the right eyes.

'Though Marie was not allowed to talk about her adventures, the images of that wondrous fairyland hovered around her in sweetly rushing billows and gracious, charming sounds.  She looked at everything once more, focusing sharply.  And so, in lieu of playing as usual, she sat there, quiet and rigid and deeply self-absorbed.  That is why everyone scolded her for being a little "dreamer".'
                                            
extract from E.T.A. Hoffmann, Nutcracker and Mouse King (Penquin Classics, London, 2007) p.59.

And so, as an adult more than ever perhaps, I understand the vital importance of delighting in one's imagination and cultivating a new mode of perception similar to Marie's, Hoffmann's main character, acquired from her time spent in  the dazzling Kingdom Of Dolls.

I am sure you will agree that it doesn't take much to spark one's creativity.  I found this teacup - made in Germany between 1949 and 1955 by Johann Seltmann Vohenstrauss -  and had it shipped over from Amsterdam by two charming ladies who share a common passion for brocante finds.  Juxtaposing this gold and raspberry cup against my French great-grandmother's hand-embroidered placemat triggered faint memories of a theatrical backdrop design - from the Nutcracker perhaps? - and I found myself dreaming of a land full of sweets again!





My children have been clamouring for fudge these days and, when I have a treasured tin of Golden Syrup in my kitchen cupboards - I sadly do not right now as it is devilishly hard to find in France - I always turn to this recipe.  I was intrigued to find, incidentally, that fudge is a relatively modern confection, at least under that name. The Oxford English Dictionary has its first example from as late as 1896, a mere four years after the premiere of Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker ballet in St Petersburg!



And from the pretty colours of that vintage teacup this sweet shrug was born thanks to another delightful knitting pattern, Ice cream Sundae, by Dani Sunshine.  I'm in good company too: Amanda from SouleMama cast off a blue version of the same pattern a few days before.







Ice cream Sundae is a treat.  The scalloped neckline, a few short rows, and the edging which requires picking up stitches around the main body of the knitting make for a fun and quick knit.  This pattern requires one skein only of DK yarn (200 metres) with a little extra for the contrasting colour.  Angélique wanted to slip it on immediately although her face in some of these pictures belies her enthusiasm a little!

My Ravelry notes may be found here.



And here is her tunic - yes, yes, it was mild enough here in Touraine for her to wear it today - made from the Liberty fabric, Scrumptious, which was launched for their Autumn and Winter 2013 collection.  Perhaps I should call it 'Nutcracker'?  There are a myriad of vintage and modern sweets on this fabric which have absorbed my children's attention for a long while.  Those sweets have triggered many memories and anecdotes from my part and, I can tell you, there are a few fudges hiding in that forest of teeth-rotting treats!

And finally, where would I be without a matching hare wearing a fudge-coloured sweater?





Enough said, I think! 

 

I do hope I will be able to find the time over the next few weeks to put my thoughts down here on a fairly regular basis.  I am busy honouring customer orders for a hoard of hares and a few mice too.  I have images, themes, and colours flitting through my head as I sleep as you can imagine.  Thank you Tchaikovsky!

 

 

I wish you all a very happy weekend and a week spiced up with dreams and creatvity.

 

A bientôt,

 

Stephanie

ps The roses in my header picture are reminiscent of the many second blooming roses gracing old stone walls and towering gateways in our village.  They also reveal that I am burying my head in the sand in regards to autumn's arrival!



The Meadow Hare Winner

Oh my, oh my!

 

If I have chosen to portray a small part of Mademoiselle Flower Meadow below it is simply because I wish in some magical way I could give a little piece of her to every single wonderful soul who participated in this giveaway both here and on Madame Millefeuilles.  But that just wouldn't work, would it?  A winner must be chosen and before the very obliging Random Number Generator did its job this morning a lot of additions and, dare I say, a smattering of multiplications needed to be performed with the wonderful list of hopeful shares on Facebook and the numerous cheery comments on this blog.

 

Phew!

 

Before I announce this flowery Demoiselle's destination I really would like to THANK YOU ALL from the bottom of my sincere heart.  There will be other giveaways, I promise!

 

So, this little hare is off to Germany to  live with Bärbel, (aka The Garden Fairy).  Please Bärbel, could you send me your address via e-mail?

 

I will be returning in a few days.  I am dreaming away, stitching and knitting during this wonderful everyday life we live.   I wish you all well.

 

A très bientôt,

 

Stephanie 



Flower Meadow Hare - GIVEAWAY!

Dear readers,

 

Inspiration, I am sure you will agree, may be found in many corners of our lives.  These past few days I have looked for it in the books I read whilst snuggled up with Angélique*, and in the merry profusion of wild flowers, sparkling in the September sun, which, I swear, seem to lift their swaying heads as I approach them on my way to the vineyards.

 Enchanted flower meadows don't just exist in Belle Ile En Mer; I've stumbled across quite a few here in France and there's even one a few minutes stroll away from our home. A 'Van Gogh cornfield or a mad technicolor Liberty print' as Katherine Swift describes them, they are composed of a clever mixture of native and non-native hardy annuals which flower over an extremely long period from mid-June through to early November.  The one nearby, alive with bees and brilliantly charged with colour, boasts blue cornflower, brown-eyed susans, toadflax, yellow corn marigold and self-heal amongst others I cannot name yet.

 A fabulous source of inspiration.

And so, dear friends, to celebrate your kindness and generosity and the past two years of Millefeuilles I have created Mademoiselle Flower Meadow as a GIVEAWAY to you.

She has been such a joy to stitch.  A little Liberty lawn (from the fabric used to make Angélique's summer dress), the softest merino fingering yarn from The Uncommon Thread in the Meadow Grass colourway, a few strands of hand-dyed silk and cotton threads to embroider those meadow flowers and my last piece of 1890s pale yellow lace to trim a pair of bloomers.  Oh, and I mustn't forget the 1940s ivory lace on Miss Hare's skirt either!

 So, if Mademoiselle Flower Meadow finds favour with you there are three ways to win her and you can try all three ways to give yourselves some extra luck.

 

First, all you have to do is to leave a comment at the end of this post.  Everybody is welcome regardless of where you live or whether you are a regular reader of Millefeuilles.

 

For a second chance, if you wish, you can mention this giveaway on your blog or put a link in your sidebar.  Please feel free to choose the picture your prefer for that.

 

Finally, if you are on Facebook, there is a post about this giveaway on my page which if you LIKE and SHARE will give you another chance to win.  Don't forget to leave another quick comment here once you have done the deed to let me know.

 

This giveaway will close on Tuesday 17th September and I will be using the Random Number Generator to pick the winner.

 

Thank you ALL for your encouragement and for leaving such kind comments. 

 

A bientôt,

 

Stephanie

 

* The four illustrations above are from three books all of which are illustrated by my current favourite artist; Charlotte Gastaut.

 

Charles Perrault, Les Fées

Charlotte Gastaut, Le Grand Voyage de Mademoiselle Prudence

Hans Christian Andersen, Poucette