The Double-Edged Sword

I had decided this was going to be my last post.  I gave myself time to reflect and whilst my mind was saying one thing my heart was telling me another.  So what if we are all busy bouncing between family, real life and the evergrowing expanse of social networking?  Never mind if this small space of mine is attracting less comments than before.  When it comes to the crunch I cannot forget the valuable connection made with precious souls through this blog and theirs.  Wonderful, inspring ladies have expressed my mixed feelings so much more eloquently than I could, both here and here.  I will, for the time being, stay here with gratitude for the friendships and inspiration offered to me in these past three years.

 

September has been glorious; continuous mellow, dusty heat with ripening apples, pears and grapes.  It has also been hard.  A precious member of my family was unexpectedly taken ill two weeks ago causing us all to scurry hither and thither, drawing ever closer in love.  I've been left with feelings of gratitude for my parents and siblings, again, but fear of inevitable, impending mortality too.  And that is why, perhaps, this September I have finally put my finger on my usual reticence to embrace autumn.  As the meadows and countryside change colour around us we find the shimmery hues of autumn leaves thrilling.  But in a sense they dupe us for they signal death and disintegration.  In time they will become fragile and return to dust.   Leaves sublime from one beautiful state to another - much as some religions tell us we will - and as they lose their green life they bloom with urgent colours.  "Carpe Diem', they seem to whisper.  This early autumn I hear their message loud and clear.  Life is precious and I intend to honour its beauty in my humble, happy manner.

 

I leave you with a palette of greens, yellows and plums.  Happy autumn friends!  Because, despite my sombre words, it really is a precious season.



 Featured above:

 

Alaria Shawl knit with divine Skein yarn Merino Cashmere Fingering in Sunspot.  My Ravelry notes are here.

 

Mademoiselle Apple And BlackBerry Crumble who is off to start a new life in Australia.

 

Mickäel and I are off to Marrakech next weekend for a short stay.  I hope to return with a few pictures to share with you all.

 

Warmest wishes to you all.

 

Stephanie

Flamboyant

Dear readers,

Summer is waiting in the wings with costume changes, stage whispers, and bouquets.  There is a spectacular, spine-tingling show of colour everywhere with, after the rainiest spring on record, a backdrop made up of a million green leaves unfurled.  I would gladly call this paradise but there is something almost brazen or burlesque about this show the flowers are staging.  If they could move they would probably strut and who could blame them?  I am quite distracted by their beauty and as I stop and stare (and talk) at them I am reminded of the flowers of my childhood garden: snapdragons, columbines, phlox, marigolds, candytuft, canterbury bells, wallflowers, roses.  The list of flowers my mother grew - and still grows - is gloriously long and I'm pretty sure that each one of those blooms had a face and a personality too.  Snapdragons really do snap ferociously when you pinch their lower jaws and whilst some admire the lantern-shaped petals of the exotic two-toned fuchsia I see a graceful ballerina dancing.

One early morning this week, made bold by the perky call of the cuckoo,  Mickaël, Héloïse and I took the well-worn path, flanked with fluttering tall grasses, into the vineyards.  It was a grey day and the sulky sky even managed to rob Héloïse's hair of its usual coppery glint.  My mind has been filled with flamboyant colour, and flowers, these past days and I have found myself knitting in shades I would not usually favour; the violet and bright pink of a fuchsia.  It turns out, I feel, that the clouds offered the perfect backdrop to this glorious riot of colour.

 

 

 



Vintage Bouquet, by Dani Sunshine, is a beautiful pattern.  I first fell for its charms when it was first published in May on one of my favourite knitting blogs, here and, having already enjoyed two of Dani's previous knits (you can see them here and here), I knew I was in for a good time knitting-wise!  It's a flawless and simple pattern which offers the perfect dose of excitment with its flower petal-shaped lace and helpful notes on blocking too.

 

Should you be interested my notes, as always, are on Ravelry.

 

If you had been with us that morning in the vines you would have caught sight of Héloïse, bleary with sleep but brightly dressed in her last dance performance costume.  And look at the pictures we took of her a year ago to the day!

Please wish HéloIse luck for the 18th and 19th June when she will be sitting the first part of her Baccalauréat exams in French and History.

 

I have so many things to share with you over the next few weeks but in the meantime I have just completed a summery mouse who is wearing very different colours to my daughter and who should be making an appearance over at Madame Millefeuilles this weekend!

 

Edit:  Mademoiselle Linden Flower has just been whisked away from her Linden tree lined Parisian gardens.  Here is picture of her in her 1950s silk dress with 1900 vintage lace-trimmed tulle pantaloons and silky wrap:

Once again I feel compelled to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your generous, kind comments left on my previous post.  You give me so much joy!

 

A bientôt,

 

Stéphanie

 

ps I know Héloïse is a slender young lady but, my goodness, you should see how much she eats!

 



Shy Summer Hares

Dear readers,

Summer is idyllic at present.  Most mornings I find it soothing to stroll through the vineyards or around our garden choosing this plant or that flower to grace our collection of handmade milk jugs.  To still the moment, I repeat what I suppose is a mantra as I regard the garden or countryside around me.  "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful," I repeat under my breath.  I smile and breathe deeply as I say it.  I am in awe of the sense-tingling beauty surrounding me.  I am grateful.

Yesterday evening Gaspard, our puppy, took us out for a walk.  It is an enticing moment to watch the sun dip after a hot day.  It is a moment to be shared. Héloïse made sweet pancakes which we carried in a basket along with a simple bottle of water.  The tall grasses along the path leading to the vineyards, fluttering like graceful dancers, are growing heavy and tall.  After weeks of rain the vines grow lush.  We marvelled at the chlorophyll brillance and the acid-green nascent grapes.  I prised one off and bit into it.  My face winced at the intense sourness.  It was wonderful.

These are happy times.  Tristan and Héloïse are back full of precious memories from their stay with my parents in Tunbridge Wells.  We are together again.  I have so much to share with you but I will gently force myself to keep things simple and short today.  To be honest I am feeling a little shy and nervous as I introduce you to two summer hares I have just finished stitching and am putting up for sale as limited editions.  To still my fluttering heart Héloïse drew the picture I displayed at the top of this post.  I love the fact that at sixteen she can still produce childlike illustrations such as those sweet rabbits frolicking in a garden.

So, without further ado, here is Mademoiselle Tea In The Rose Garden

She is enjoying the sunset perched amongst the leafy vines.

When I made her my thoughts turned to blissful summer afternoons spent in the garden watching the shadows lengthen whilst sipping tea - or something stronger, perhaps!

Mademoiselle Tea In The Rose Garden is the first of a series of hares I am creating in honour of Madelief's garden in Holland.  The second will be revealed here this coming weekend and will also be available to buy.  Madelief has sweetly written to tell me she would like to purchase one.  Incidentally, she will be spending her summer holidays in the Cotswolds so, if you have any suggestion of delightful places to visit, please visit her and leave her a comment.

This sweet hare has been inspired by one of Madelief's garden tea parties which you can enjoy here and her Late June Garden where roses reign supreme.    On her right ankle grows a beautiful pink rose and on her left ear there is a lilac coloured teacup.

  If you would like to make this Mademoiselle blissfully happy spend a little time out in the garden sharing your love of roses. Perhaps you could give her a doll-sized cup of tea to sip too?

Mademoiselle Bloom (Where You Are Planted) is my second hare for today.

Mademoiselle Bloom would be at her happiest living with garden and nature lovers who would, perhaps, take her out for the occasional walk and read books about gardening to her in the evenings.

Her right ankle and one of her ears display the green vine leaves and flowers which represent our tranquil Vouvray region renowned for its sparkling white wine.  Like her friend featured above her pantaloons are trimmed with early twentieth-century ivory coloured lace.

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If you feel compelled to purchase one of these ladies or even just to take a peek at the other limited edition hares which are available for the time being, please click here.  I will be adding small groups of hares to the shop regulary inspired by the passing seasons. 

Honeysuckle

I am most grateful to you all for taking the time to visit today.  My nerves are feeling a little less jittery now! You all make me happy and I find your input so enriching.

Story Book

I am leaving you for now with the exquisite work of Sue Fenlon which I had the joy of seeing for the first time over at the  compelling blog Sew Sweet Violet.  Sue Fenlon's work is pure heaven for me.  I should warn you that her website is like the call of the sirens and you are unlikely to leave it empty-handed! 



I will be visiting you all this week.  Ahh, wonderful summer holidays!

A bientôt,

Stephanie

Edit: Oh my goodness gracious me.  I have just sold my first second, third, fourth hare on Etsy!  I promise to make some more!

Tuesday morning edit: they have all gone.  I cannot believe it!

Parisian Garden Party (And A Spot Of Knitting)

Dear readers,

Today I have the honour of joining Anita's Parisian Party at Castles, Crowns and Cottages although I am a little fashionably late in arriving as it officially started yesterday!

I love Paris.  It must be in my blood.  My mother was born in Paris and told me tales of her grand-parents' appartment overlooking the gardens of Versailles.  I have inherited an uncanny fondness for the smell of the Parisian metro from my aunt who lives with my uncle opposite the Sorbonne and who still continues to catch a whiff of the fetid metro air with relish at the grand age of eighty three.  The years spent in Paris were the happiest of my life and I believe that my decision to write a thesis on seventeenth-century Parisian gardens and theatre aesthetics was based on a need to return to the capital regularly.

Every day on my way to work I would walk through the lime tree lined avenues of the Palais Royal gardens.  The sweet fragrance of those flower-laden trees was intoxicating in spring.  Aren't those linear alleys with their regularly planted trees quintessentially French?

I recall comparing such views to the stage scenery I had seen time and time again at the opera. 

Seventeenth-century drawing, possibly by Jean Berain, for the Prologue to Aricie

In eighteenth-century theatre design gardens were much favoured and often associated with architecture.  The picture below, taken from the Palais Royal galéries, could very well be the backdrop to an opera or ballet.

Look at the regularly positioned columns in the scenery design below:

Le Palais d'Amour in Lully's Pysché performed in 1678

French painters, such as Jean-Honoré Fragonard and Antoine Watteau, depicted garden scenes in which their characters danced, walked, and fell in love.  The latter's Fêtes galantes is a beautiful example. One century later the poet Paul Verlaine wrote a series of poems named Fêtes galantes.  He drew his inspiration from the painter's work, of course, but also the Parisian royal gardens such as Versailles, Marly, and Saint-Cloud.  In several of these poems Verlaine makes use of the tree-lined garden avenues as a place for his characters to play their roles.  The poem below, translated into English, is a perfect example of the theatrical aspect of Parisian public gardens:

L'Allée

As in the age of shepherd king and queen,

Painted and frail amid her nodding bows,

Under the sombre branches and between

The green and mossy garden-ways she goes,

With little mincing airs one keeps to pet

A darling and provoking perroquet.

Her long-trained robe is blue, the fan she holds

With fluent fingers girt with heavy rings,

So vaguely hints of vague erotic things

That her eye smiles, musing among it folds.

- Blonde too, a tiny nose, a rosy mouth,

Artful as that sly patch that makes more sly,

In her divine unconscious pride of youth,

The slightly simpering sparkle of the eye.

Paul Verlaine (1844-1896)

translated by Arthur Symons

This picture is taken from Le Poème Harmonique's website.  Take a peek as their Baroque operas and plays are truly exquisite; completely candlelit!

I have drawn inspiration from garden avenues, rows upon rows of leafy trees, and the colours of Baroque opera.  Who could not?

The rows and alleys here are our neighbouring vineyards in Vouvray as we could not make it to Paris; sorry Anita!  The colours are reminiscent of my favourite opera, Cadmus et Hermione, Jean-Baptise Lully's first opera to be performed in Paris in 1673 and much favoured by Louis XIV.  The DVD of this work is A WORK OF ART!

The pattern I have knitted is Scalene.  It's asymmetrical composition is a perfect definition of the word baroque which derives from the Portuguese word denoting an irregular pearl.

The yarn is Madelinetosh DK in Fragrance and Olivia.

The model is Héloïse, of course, who will be performing on stage tonight a ballet named Promenade à Paris.

Details are on Ravelry.

Thank you so much Anita for inviting me to your Parisian Party. 

A bientôt,

Stephanie