A New Leaf

Hello there!

I don't know if I'll be keeping this new Millefeuilles banner for long. I know this little rosehip bearing rabbit wove some potent magic upon me as I found myself, as if bewitched, stitching a combination of colours which do not usually find favour with me.  But on reflection these are the colours of early autumn, surely; butter-yellow, vivid scarlet and plum jostling for attention against the still predominant green pigment of chorophyll.  What do you think?

Mother Nature has been drawing us out each and every day.  That special september sunlight is too precious to ignore.  We cycle along the Loire river banks - the only level ground around our hilly parts - we tread familiar bridle paths through the vineyards and embrace new secret trails, picking blackberries and trailing our hands through brittle long grasses.  The leaves on the vines are beginning to turn but the green grapes have a few sun-drenched weeks of respite before hoards of grape gatherers descend upon the regular rows sending pheasants and roe deer scuttling away.

Our glorious countryside, more bleached than green now after weeks of heat, inspired me to knit the leafy shawl you can see above.  Cedar Leaf Shawlette is the work of Alana Dakos. The Madelinetosh DK yarn in the Filigree colourway lends itself beautifully to the drape of this crescent-shaped shawl worked in short rows with the leaf border added sideways once the main body is finished.  It is a pleasure to observe the leaves unfold gently as you knit; the repetitive pattern is never tedious.  Simply perfect to welcome in early autumn, don't you think?  For those who are interested my Ravelry notes are to be found here.

On a sultry day two weeks ago we headed off to the Chaumont-sur-Loire Garden Festival.  This year the theme - "Gardens Of Delight, Gardens Of Delirium" - promised to be both enticing and intriguing.

As we eagerly traipsed around the twenty-six show gardens we were gently pulled into an enchanted world where fairy tales and culinary delights reigned supreme.  One garden set the stage for Antonin Carême's elaborate marzipan cakes displayed in his eighteenth-century Parisian pâtisserie window and modelled on the ideas he would take from his passion for architectural history books.  Another, poetically named after the legend of Sleeping Beauty, was composed of thorny white Climbing Iceberg rose bushes and giant purple thistles to symbolize the hedge of thorns which surrounded the princess's slumbering castle. In another garden a fairy, wearing a brightly-patterned pinny, ruled over her magical vegetable patch in which dozens of mouth-watering recipes dangled from tree branches above magic pumpkins and giant artichokes. The Garden Of Sensual Delights was an orchard of closely planted fruit trees with a four-poster bed set on a base of red roses.  Most enchanting. I would be tempted to confess that sometimes the written descriptions, displayed at the entrance of each garden, were much more evocative and exciting than the gardens themselves.  I thought at the time this might have something to do with the fact that I chiefly garden with words and that I enjoy reading about gardens in particular.  My husband and Héloïse, however, agreed that they too had been more seduced by the words.  If any of you have also visited Chaumont this year I would love to read your impressions.

 Before I leave you for now I would like to tell you that I am busy making up, alongside some lovely custom orders, a family of autumnal hares dressed in jewel colours gleefully ready to face the turn of the season.  I have also put up a couple of limited edition hares on my Gallery of Hares page (you will find it just under my Millefeuilles banner) which were made for two lovely ladies a little while back.  I also intend to post here a little more frequently.  I am looking forward to that enormously. 

A bientôt, lovely readers,

Stephanie