Scotland The Baked

“We haven't had rain for nearly two months (the covering of snow mid-April notwithstanding) and the ground is parched. We get the promise of rain with roiling clouds which then pass over without crying over our forgotten land [Ed: pretentious, much?] leaving blazing sunshine in its wake. (Oh woe for unseasonably gorgeous weather!)

The fields of wheat are turning brown two seasons too soon, the garden is alive but in stasis, yet the wildflowers and blossom of the countryside aren't bothered in the slightest! Vive La Nature!!"

My first Spring looking after a garden, and no rain. I mean, huzzah, because I can partake of a jolly good tramp around the countryside without worrying about slipping about in mud eight steps out of nine, but seven-and-a-bit weeks without rain? IN THIS PART OF SCOTLAND? This never happens even in the most Summery of Summers. No, scratch that. This just never happens, full stop.

Yet the earth along the track to Blebo begs to differ. 

I should have put something for scale in the photo, but that crack was about a foot long.

It's not like we've had record-breaking temperatures for the duration. It's been more of a long bake on a low heat than a short roast on a high setting! (Hey, look at that - culinary terminology in a non-Fake-Food-Blogger™ post - must mean that cooking lingo is starting to make sense in my old noggin at last!)

Still, it seems apt - the long leaves of the crops up Clatto Hill did look a little bit on the WE-SAID-FAHRENHEIT-NOT-CELSIUS side.

But for every desiccated piece of man-made ex-wilderness, there were ten examples of Mother Nature not giving a f*ck.

Broom

Perennial Cornflower

Common Dandelion

Red Campion

Gorse

Wild Violets

White Dead Nettle

Bluebells

Wild Cherry

She just didn't care about the drought, our Màthair Nàdar, she merely changed her style of creating art from watercolours to pastels and chalk! 

And Happy Birthday to my Granddad, who would have been 115 today. One day I'll get your garden back to it's full glory, promise xx

With Verdure Clad...

... the trees appear,
delightful to the ravish'd sense...*

As you'll have already realised, I'm a huge fan of the Clingendael Estate in the eastern part of Den Haag. So east that it's technically in Waasenaar. And I say ‘Clingendael Estate' but really there are several parks and estates incorporated into my generalised description: 

† Landgoed Clingendael (‘landgoed' meaning ‘estate' in Dutch);

‡ Landgoed Oosterbeek; 

the § Japanse Tuin (photo from May last year); 

and the ‖ Oud-Hollandse Tuin. 

I do have to admit here that I occasionally include a completely different park that's perhaps a mile closer to the centre of The Hague on the walk to Clingendael, called ¶ Landgoed Oostduin en Arendsdorp.

Worthy of inclusion, in my humble opinion!

Wikipedia tells me that ‘Clingendael' means ‘valley in the dunes', so I'm guessing ‘dael' is the Dutch equivalent of the English ‘dale', or the Scots ‘strath'. Just, yannow, a much less undulating version than the ones we know and love in the UK! ;) 

I was a good few weeks too early for the azaleas and rhododendrons to be doing their colourful path-enhancing fiesta when I was over, but Spring already had her green on, and was in the process of happily (at least for me) festooning the parks with her verdant bunting.

I love this time of year so much. (Oh, okay, I know you know I love all seasons except for Summer, but indulge me a moment or two...) You can still see the beautiful framework of the trees against the sky (something I find hauntingly alluring) but now smudged a little with the colours of new growth and Spring.

Tender, half-formed leaflets slowly opening to cloak black boughs in colour,

and bright, fresh greens softening the harsher greys of stone.

Likewise, a hint of rose-gold to draw together early blossom and the beautiful red bricks of an old Tea-House into a homogeneous whole.

It's true I get a little sad once Spring has completely clad her arboreal minions in green, meaning I lose sight of the esoteric structures I so love. I know, I know - it sounds somewhat topsy-turvy, as surely the bare branches are easier to comprehend without the all-encompassing shroud of Summer green? I have yet to come to a discernible conclusion, but for me, partly anyway, it may be because I think that if there is no mask of camouflage to hide behind, the inner, truer being must surely be given a chance to be recognised for its own beauty, not just as a simple framework waiting for something else more wonderful, or indeed, more disagreeable, to cover it, but truly just for its complicated self. And that's perhaps a thought to pursue another day...

* Lyrics shamelessly stolen and slightly amended from the work of Gottfried van Swieten.
† g pronounced like the ch in the Scottish ‘loch'. This is pronounced ‘Landt-choodt Kling-en-dahl.
‡ g pronounced like the ch in the Scottish ‘loch'. This is pronounced ‘Landt-choodt Oaster-bake, and means ‘Estate of the East Stream'.
§ pronounced ‘Yapansuh Town' and means ‘Japanese Garden'.
‖ ‘ou' in this case is also pronounced like the ‘ow' in ‘town'. This is pronounced ‘Owdt Hollandsuh Town' and means ‘Old Dutch Garden'.
¶ pronounced ‘Oast-Down' and ‘Arendsdorp' pretty much as written, and means ‘Estate of the East Dunes,
and the Village of Arend'.

Going Back To My Routes

Ah Sorghvliet. The perfect oasis of arboreal peace and tranquillity amidst the hub-bub of city life!

And bluebells. 

And there was I, worried that I might not see any Sorghvliet bluebells this year, but Fate kindly stepped in and decreed otherwise. 

Mind you, after all the tree conservation and tending over the Winter, my favourite shady bluebell path was slightly denuded of the long and elegant branches that used to sweep majestically over the flowers.

Boo-hiss. 

I know, I know. It's for the health of the trees, and like all bad haircuts, it'll eventually grow back. But still... :: pouts ::

But Mama Nature was just getting on with things, despite my sentimental predilection for how things used to be.

I'll let her off.

This time.

I was perhaps a couple of weeks early for the full show, it must be said, but a dreich April day didn't detract from the beauty of blue and fresh green, nor from the promise of more to come.

Or, indeed, the beauty of white, blue, and fresh green (one of my favourite combinations),

lilac, blue, and fresh green,

or, indeed, black and ivy green!

And, yes, the sun came out the next day and I do confess to going back for a sunlit shot, or two...

I mean, how could I not?!

The Selfie Of Narcissus

Or: Machaut for the 21st century!*

Sometimes a walk can make your eyes open up to all the different things Nature has to offer, and sometimes your eyes gets constantly snagged on one thing. Such was the case on a walk up to Blebo. Beautiful day, Spring getting her glad rags on, and all I could see were daffodils! 

I do have to point out, though, it's not like there weren't plenty to see!

Plenty of beautiful varieties, too!

I might even learn their names for next year's post. Because you know there will be one, don't you?!!

*(The Mirror of Narcissus is a compendium of songs written by a medieval poet and composer called Guillaume de Machaut in the early fourteenth century. Written in the courtly style it truly was a reflection (sorrynotsorry) of the lover as artist/artist as lover ideal so prevalent in the European courts of the time. Narcissus is also the name given to a genus of spring bulbs flowers that include the daffodil... But you knew that already!)

On The Good Ship Woolly Sock

My goodness, but it's been a while! But in my defence I hadn't been near any sticks and string for a while, too... Yup, as defences go, that's quite the lamest you'll hear for a while, but maybe this will appease the yarn gods for a wee bit... 

My first published pattern in a couple of years, may I present:

Shirley Temple Socks

shirley temple socks by yours truly in angels and elephants 
hand-dyed knitting wool - sock/4-ply in ‘pentillie'

The blurb:

A Shirley Temple cocktail is in fact a mocktail of ginger ale, a splash of grenadine, and topped off with a maraschino cherry garnish, said to have been invented to serve to the child actress at Hollywood events...
The Shirley Temple sock pattern itself is another in my theme of alcoholic drinks, but in a happy twist of fate, it also manages to blend neatly into my other theme of costumes through the ages... Bubbles from the ginger ale, plus a nod to the curls for which Shirley Temple was known!

Yes! Socks! In three different sizes, so less!!

shirley temple socks by yours truly in namolio pure wool in ‘oranges'

I'll be honest - these cuties began their journey back in 2013 when I first put scribbled curls to paper, but were put on the back burner when I discovered I didn't hate shawls nearly as much as I used to. :: a gazillion shawls later :: Not nearly as much! 

Looking back, I originally envisioned these as cabled socks with no eyelets in sight (sorrynotsorry) but my naive cable brain couldn't quite get a good swirl going that didn't appear more like the end result of drunken yarn brawl instead of the innocent non-alcoholic little girl curl that I was aiming for.

Eyelets it was. And yes, it was easy enough to make the pattern in eyelets, but it took a while to get the decreases just-so, again just to steer away from the yarn brawl. I got there in the end, but wasn't content just to leave it *there*, I decided that this sock needed to be a mirror pattern! I think my brain was trying to make up for the fact that it had been beaten temporarily knocked-back by the dastardly cables...

So what do we have, then? 

A sock worked from the toe-up, incorporating cute little faux eyelet cable ginger-ale bubbles that fizz up the sides of the socks, an excellent new (for me) heel called the Fish Lips Kiss Heel, and scrolling curls that swirl all the way up from toe to cuff.

A simple cast-on, like the Turkish cast-on can be used, and only after a few rounds the first curl will twirl its way into sight. (Ed. Please note that I will always be the first to admit that eyelets and I are not the best of friends. We get along ok these days, but won't be on calling-in-the-middle-of-the-night-to-bewail-the-state-of-the-world terms for a long while yet...)

The 5-stitch bubble edge pattern is also begun in the toe section, and pretty much everything is set-up and ready to go by the beginning of the foot pattern.

The Fish Lips Kiss Heel by Sox Therapist (Ravelry links) is a revelation to me. I won't give too much away, but I've never made such a well-fitting sock before. Like I say on the pattern, I have no affiliation to the designer, but boy, I'm going to be happy I discovered this gem for a very long time! You do have to pay $1 for the heel pattern, but let my voice add to the many others who think it's a real find, and say that it'll be the best sock-related $1 you'll ever spend!

See: that heel is just poetry in yarn!

Where you finish the pattern before the heel will determine where the curls start at the back. I wanted the curl there to appear like the first one in the toe (whether it spins clockwise, or anticlockwise is also determined by where you finished before the heel, and which foot you're working on) without the connection section. It's basically the same round as you'd work on the front, but without the extra yo and decrease to the side that joins one curl up with the next one.

(Note that for my Namolio version I actually used an afterthought/peasant heel, as I didn't want to disturb the colour journey up the sock!)

Once you're ready to start the cuff, there's a small transition section, then it's a simple matter to complete. I bound-off with another new-to-me bind-off: Jeny's Surprisingly Stretchy Cast-Off (this links to a YouTube video, but there seems to be quite a lot of variants to be found online) and was very pleased with the results!

So, there you have it - my tribute to a Hollywood star, and the drink named after her! And you too can make your very own tribute by clicking right HERE and you'll be whisked off to the Ravelry pattern page, complete with its own linky-loos!

Or, you can click right here on this little button to go straight to the paypal page, because who wants to waste time clicking over to Rav, when you can have this pattern RIGHT NAO!!!

And for only €3!! (Plus VAT, natch!)

Go on, you know you want to! :D

Walking On Water

The Lade Braes in St Andrews has a long, long history - as long as the town itself, I suspect. ‘Lade' means a body of water artificially channelled from an established river to a waterway that supports a mill, and the Lade Braes follows the mill lade that came off the Kinness Burn, which originally flowed to the priory at the edge of the sea. Braes are merely steep banks, or hillsides, running alongside a river, or coast.

This lade was constructed to take water from the Kinness Burn to the priory grounds, which were built on higher ground than the burn which burbled away further to the south. Although the St Andrews Cathedral Priory was established in 1140, there appears to be evidence of a mill on the site beforehand, so it may be that the lade is indeed older than the town!  

The Priory Lade itself now runs through pipes directly underneath the Lade Braes Walk, which runs next to the Kinness Burn, and then splits up from the burn nearer the shore - the burn burbling its way to the harbour then out to sea, the Lade diverting further north through the Priory grounds.

A springtime walk along the Braes is always a pleasure; daffodils nodding their heads as you walk by, blossom and bracken filling the air with perfume, trees beginning to bud.

You can, of course, start the walk at the back of Madras College, but apart from a couple of pretty gardens along the route, there's not much to see, so I tend to start my walk at Cockshaugh Park - ground that was part of new landscaping work in the late 19th Century.

Just round the bend from the park you'll see a rather well-kept lawn with ponds across the burn complete with an interesting-looking structure or two, which is just a small part of the St Andrews Botanic Garden, and absolutely worth a visit should you venture to the East Neuk of Fife!

And then there are trees; 

trees that give very decorative shade,

trees that reach across the burn,

trees surrounded by daffodils.

But, as you would expect, there are still remnants of some of the five mills (at least) that used to use the water off the lade, the most obvious being Law Mill near the outermost part of the Lade Braes. According to town records, there has been a mill on this site since Medieval times, its current form is from 1757.

Law Mill is mostly ruined, but the Law Mill Cottage next to it sits on a beautifully picturesque join of the Kinness, and Cairnsmill Burns, and worthy of a photo in any season.

The mill does keep several of its features, despite it being in somewhat of a decrepit state. The pyramid roof of the drying kiln is still visible, as is the metal frame of the wheel. Unfortunately the mill and cottage are both on private land, but you can still get a good nosy-in from the lade pathway!

The area around the mill is particularly pretty in Spring, thanks in part to the flowering cherry trees! I'm a sucker for blossom!

The last mill to avail itself of water from the lade closed at the beginning of the twentieth century, but water from the lade continued to be used until the 1950's; a sluice (that is still noticeable from the path) was opened up to feed a skating pond situated in a flat patch of ground between the lade and the Kinness Burn. Nowadays, it's just a flat area covered in young trees, but if you know the history it becomes very clear where the pond used to be!

The Lade Braes is a lovely walk without knowing the background of the area, but you know me, a little history makes Nic a happy walker!

And daffodils. Daffodils are happy-inducing too!