Autumn's Final Fling

There's a nice walk I sometimes take up through the Scheveningse Bosjes, and round by Westbroek Park. Well, it's more like a theme and variations, because there are a myriad of routes to take around this part of the city that will give you a goodly supply of woodland eye-candy.  

Today's foray took me through the middle of the bosjes, around the park, and back past the lake (of which I can't find the name.) This whole area was part of the coastal defences called the Atlantikwall, created by the Germans when they occupied the Netherlands (and much of the European coast) during the Second World War; the woods were raised to the ground (as well as much housing), and the lake became part of an anti-tank ditch. It shows the massive fortitude of the Dutch that the many woods and parks of the city have been re-planted, and allowed to heal some of the scars left by the Nazis.

A Little Of What You Fancy Does You Good

"This beauteous marvel of confectionery is a Salted Caramel Brownie Slice from M&S. But, dear reader, it's more than *just* a Salted Caramel Brownie Slice from M&S... It's a promise made to the author many months ago, an enticement to divest herself of unnecessary poundage, a reward for perseverance (and, perhaps, for reading too many novels by Jane Austen).

Today there is 90 pounds (or 40.82kgs) less of our heroine. Huzzah!

And soon, very soon, there will be considerably less Salted Caramel Brownie Slice from M&S... om nom nom!"

It's Cold And Grey But Autumn Is Painting The Town Red

The Japanese Garden in the Clingendael estate to the east of the city, is only open to the public a few weeks of the year, but what vibrant few weeks in Spring and Autumn they are! Absolutely worth a visit come rain or shine.

More people than trees. Or so it seems in every photo I take!

I've learned over the course of this visit that the trick isn't waiting for people to clear the area so you can take a photo, because you'll be waiting for ever, the trick is waiting for people with clothing that match the background to get into place so you can take a photo... Pink kagool? Yep, just to the right, a wee bit more... :: click ::

I still need to learn, however, to be totally aware of my surroundings: here I thought I had a clear people-free shot and didn't notice the guy right in the centre with his hands on his hips until I cropped and checked the photos on a larger screen back home! I mean, he's RIGHT IN THE CENTRE OF THE SHOT!!

:: plays music to 'The Twilight Zone' ::

And of course, you can't visit any park that has water features of any kind, because you'll always see a heron or two, keeping an eye out for errant fish, and possibly equally errant humans.

I caught handsome Mr Heron doing a spot of catalogue posing. Just after this was taken, he pointed to the bank with one wing, while checking his watch on the other. Obviously a pro.

A Constitutional Preamble

I thought I'd add a little introduction to the parks phase of this literary affair, instead of whipping out a pile of tree photos for you to ogle at with no prior communiqué whatsoever. A twigger warning, if you will.  (I may apologise for that later.)

I started going for walks primarily as a means of finding interesting doors to photograph.  If you know me on facebook, or have had a look at my other blog here, you'll know I have a passion for portals that started with a visit to Vézelay in France last August, a destination to which I brought my brand-new (though not new in terms of tech) Samsung Galaxy Tab 2 7". This darling machine connected to the internet if there was WiFi around, and as I couldn't afford a laptop, this was the next best thing! And it took photos, so in that respect it was WAY better than a laptop! Oh my! I didn't own a smart phone (and I still don't), but this piece of kit was quite the Welcome To The Smart Age just the same, and I had a whale of a time taking photos, editing them, and slapping them all over my facebook page.  All from the comfort of my own hotel room!  

Yes, the quality isn't fabulous, but for a night-time photo basically taken with a big-ass fake phone, it turned out rather well.  (Abbaye Sainte-Marie-Madeleine de Vézelay.)

The town is an ancient hill-top settlement, originally going back to Roman times, and it became the start of one of four important pilgrim routes to Santiago de Compostela, so the tiny township is filled with steep roads, and ancient buildings that offer a plethora of characterful doorways to capture on cyber film. And a facebook photo album was born.

baby's first portal photo

At the time I wasn't thinking about the health benefits of going for walks, although after this entry (I may apologies for that later, too) to the joys of pounding the pavement in search of additions to my album, it became more obvious the further I travelled afield that the exercise was actually doing me good. I discovered that I liked walking, coupled with capturing moments on memory card that had already captured my imagination.  

I was tempted to add the portals to this blog, but as I'm at around four hundred doors and counting, I think they deserve their own piece of internet real-estate. Instead, I am happy to share with you in future posts some of the things that have stirred my fantasy on walks throughout this city, and elsewhere, but I'll leave this post with a couple more doors - one that shows the sloping nature of the roads I was talking about, and the other simply because I love that it's absolutely chock-full of texture!  What a story it could tell!

A First Time For Everything

"Nic tried on a pair of jeans today. A pair of jeans in a high-street shop, not a 'plus-size' shop. And in a 'normal' department of said high-street shop, not in a 'plus-size' department of the self-same high-street shop.

(This, it must be pointed out, is a first-time experience in the life of your author.)

And you know what? They fit!"

I do tend to sound glib when expressing myself in relation to my weight loss sometimes, of this I am aware. I have a habit of making things sound a lot less important to me than they really are, and part of that is out of habit - if no-one thinks it's important to me there's less chance of it being belittled/nicked/broken (which is a very old and very hard habit to break), and part of it is because I like to make people laugh. Or chortle. I can settle for snort, too. You'll find a lot of funny people (much funnier than I) who became funnier still primarily as a means to deflect hate, whether by, for example, self-mockery (hey, if I get the fat joke in first, that means people will laugh with me and not at me), or observational comedy (check out this thing that everyone does but doesn't realise how hilarious it is, instead of ridiculing me) to name just two methods of diversion.

So, when I sound a little flippant about about this brand-new shopping experience, believe me, it's covering up the utter and profound joy of potentially finding a bigger range of clothes to choose from, a bigger range of styles, shapes, colours, and at prices that don't penalise the plump for using up a few inches of fabric more than the same garment in a non-plus size. 

Reader, I bought the jeans.

Psych 666

"Nic really wishes she understood the absolutely hilarious reply to the Dutch equivalent of "Jesus, what's with fat chicks and knitting?" that was uttered by one of the ten or so gobby young 'men' on the train, because she's absolutely positive it must have been intelligent and insightful."

Yes, yes, societal norms, the fitting-in with your fellows, pack mentality etc etc etc. Everything can be explained in a psychological manner.

The kid who came out with the first comment may have been trying to assert his place of power within the group by drawing everyone's attention to him, via me. He might have confidence issues, he might have a problem with authority figures, he probably has something about himself that he doesn't like so is perhaps always the first to point out weaknesses in others, in the hope that no-one will notice his.

The comic of the group may want attention just as much as the leader, but perhaps realises that he doesn't quite have the strength to battle for that position, so deflects this flaw into making people laugh instead. He can hog the limelight as much as the leader, but because he's taken the role of fool, he'll never be considered a threat. The comic may also have sadness to bear in his life, depression, grief. It's not for nothing that you hear the greatest comedians are those who have the intelligence to make despair sound funny.

The rest are pack animals. Snarling for scraps of the action, trying to be accepted by copying the leaders, probably just hoping they won't be picked on next for any of their own perceived flaws.

Or they could all just be little devils with no consciences sent to make my day miserable.  

It hardly matters because trying to find reasons to justify their behaviour doesn't make the outcome any different. They come across as little shits, and I go home feeling like one.

Everything In The Garden's...

... boozy.

It's been a while since I opened up the drinks cabinet of my imagination. I am glad to report that it hasn't been emptied by teenage thoughts in the interim, although I'm still not sure how that bottle of Advocaat came into being...  Mind you, doesn't the Snowball cocktail use that...?  And the Bombardino?  Hey, there's also the Fluffy Duck... 

(My mind: a dangerous place in which to get lost.)

But I digress.  Slightly.   What I'm really here to bring you is the 'Summer Vegetable Most-Unhealthy Use' prize of 2014:  Peapod Wine.

peapod wine socks by yours truly
bbknits superwash sock in 'seagrass'

Yes indeed, this fruity little number... erm vegetally little number... has been grown from the seed of home-made wine memories of my youth. My Dad's home-made wines, that is.  The fruit or vegetable mash in the big tub which would slowly make its way to demijohns with their blip-blooping airlocks and finally to their final (temporary) destination in corked bottles under the floor where it was dark and cool.  It must be pointed out that Dad never actually made peapod wine, and although his raspberry, his rhubarb, and above all his parsnip wine shall forever live in our slightly hazy memories, there's not really anything sock-worthy about tipsy root vegetables.

  

So for inspiration I went instead to the rest of his garden, where the potatoes (great for chips, crap for socks), lettuce (can you even have boozy salad?), and carrots (pff, if you're not having them with dinner, then the only other decent and proper use is in cake) were passed over for the tendrilly fragrant vines that would climb up the old bamboo frames and present us with pods full of pea-popping sweetness. Perfect!

So I started the socks just how the pea plant starts - at the bottom with tendrils of vine, dividing up into stalks, ready to climb...

I have to admit I'm fond of this peapod pattern...  I wasn't sure whether I should make the pods in a cabled fashion, but in the end some natty, and slightly modified, skps did the trick!

But you know?  I think I'm most fond of the calyx cuff.  It's amazing what some twist cables and a little contrasting purling can do!

But really, this is a raised glass to my Dad, in sock form!!

The Peapod Wine Sock is worked from a pea-shoot toe up, with a peapod pattern foot and leg, short-row heel, and a calyx cuff, and you can find the pattern page on Ravelry HERE.  (You don't need to be a member to view the page!)

Or, should you be so inclined, you can just jump straight to buying this little gem by clicking on the button below!  At only €3 ($3.94, £2.37, or ¥410) it's a tipsy garden delight without the weeds, or the hangover!