Clad In Blossom

 



Few words today, friends.  Yesterday Héloïse went to school, her heart in her mouth, to find out her Baccalauréat examination results.  Would you believe she scored a general average of 19.23 out of 20?  Not only did she obtain the highest marks in the school - Mention Très Bien + avec Félicitations du Jury - but is believed to be in the top hundred in France.  Heartfelt hugs were shared with so many teachers and I must confess I cried with shock and delight right there in the middle of all those anxious pupils and parents.  We arrived home in the early hours of this morning after celebrating with friends my beautiful daughter's success but now, unfortunately, Héloïse is nursing a very painful throat.  She really needs to rest after the past few weeks of strain, I believe.

 

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Although it is now high summer and porcelain pink Pierre Ronsard roses are gracing local high walls, paying tribute to our local Renaissance poet, I have been inspired by the exquisite apple blossom wreath which sweet Michele created for me.  Do you recall the crown of wild violets Angélique was wearing in early spring?  Michele's work is truly lovely and one flowery wreath never seems to be enough!  This artist's home overlooks a beautiful apple tree orchard which, in late spring, is cloudy with the frilliest, candiest of all pinks and creams.  I think she has captured the magical beauty of blossom to perfection; don't you? 

 

In my formidable yarn stash a few delicious skeins of silky alpaca Old Maiden Aunt sport weight in a peachy hued Blossom colourway were begging to be turned into a simple, delicate top.   Leah Thibault's Sakura Cardigan was deemed the perfect pattern.*  Peaceful knitting with the rustic luxury of Old Maiden Aunt to accompany me during the intense few weeks in late spring and early summer.

 

My Ravelry notes may be found right here.

 

The school summer holidays have started today and we are all more than ready for them.  We will be around over the course of July, greeting friends into our humble home, and away in August to Brittany.  I'd love to learn about your hopes and dreams for this summer!

 

Warmest wishes to you all,

 

Stephanie

 

* We'll never forget our sweet Sakura.

Wild Violet Season

Happy March dear readers!

I am shyly joining in with Karen's Sunlit Sunday this weekend.

"I can see meadows, deep woods, which the first outburst of buds mists over wth an elusive green, cold streams and forgotten springs.  Easter primroses, daffodils with the saffron coloured heart, and violets, violets, violets...

I can see a silent little girl whom spring has already enchanted with a wild happiness, with a bittersweet and mysterious joy. A small girl imprisoned by day in a schoolhouse, and who exchanged toys and pictures for the first bouquets of violets from the woods, tied with a red cotton thread, brought by the little shepherdesses from the surrounding farms.

Oh, violets of my childhood!  You rise up before me, all of you, you lattice the milky April sky, and the quivering of your countless little faces intoxicates me." 

This is an extract from the French writer Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette's kaleidescope of fragments dedicated to her childhood first published in 1908 under the title of Les Vrilles de la vigne.  Although there is no particular logic to be found in the sequence of these eighteen short stories, there is a poetic or musical beauty to be found in the construction of each together underscored with a strong feminine sensuality.  The above description of wild violets is from the short story Le Dernier Feu which has marked me particularly.  If you would like to read these stories in English you may find them in this book.

 If Colette writes in the final words of the above extract that wild violets belong to the month of April, I usually see their tiny faces appearing during the course of February along the shady banks and hedgerows of our local vinyards and in our garden.  Spring flower obsessions are shared by many as dear Elizabeth reveals in her recent and beautifully penned post on snowdrops which further endorses my opinion that she should really write a book on gardens.  I am fickle in nature.  Spring provides an intoxicating potion of vibrant colours and tantalising scents and I usually fall madly in love each year with each spring flower but, as loyal readers know, my passion lies with violets.  Greek myths tell us that violets first sprang where Orpheus laid his enchanted lute and that the goddess Persephone and her companion nymphs were gathering rose, crocus, violet, iris, lily and larkspur blooms in a springtime meadow when she was abducted by the god Hodes. This year I have succumbed to one of my favourite scents once more, Violettes de Toulouses, and, as you may see, to knitting a cardigan inspired by these brave, delicate and diminutive blooms hardly bigger than a fingernail.

I have observed with a little gratitude and much delight how the poetry of flowers has woven its magic on my dear Angélique since a very early age.  I wanted to create a cardigan for her which captured the elusive colour of violets.  The Old Maiden Aunt colourway, Bluebells, together with Madelinetosh's Olivia were a match made in Heaven.  

The pattern is Dani Sunshine's Bella.

My Ravelry link is here; do come and say hello!

The pretty wreath of violets was created by Amore Bride.

Please take a few seconds to look at the white dress Angélique is wearing.  It dates back to the late nineteenth-century and the collar, which you can see more clearly in the third picture from the top, is exquisitely embroidered entirely by hand. 

And before you leave PLEASE tell me which spring flower do you love the most?  I would love to know!

A bientôt,

Stephanie

ps  As my Facebook page, Madame Millefeuilles has very kindly reached over two thousand likes I would like to arrange a special giveaway, both here and on Facebook, once the flurry of pre-Easter orders has been dealt with!  

pps  I am also, tentatively, joining in for the first time with Jodi's The 52 Project.