Defeating the elephants in the room

As my other half will attest – and my cupboards prove – I’m pretty good at starting projects and not so good at completion. Most of these projects are knitting-related, though there are also DIY must-dos on my personal nag list. Most faltered because I got into a pickle with the pattern.

There's not a single one I started and then abandoned because I didn’t like what I was knitting. So I've set myself the challenge of finishing several of my in-progress projects over the summer. I've just finished sewing up and pressing the basketweave jumper I’ve made for one of my little nephews. His twin will be getting a matching cardigan in the same pattern and yarn, but not before I finally finish a project with their names on from last year.

Cuddly elephant toys with matching Indian headdresses and backcloths seemed ideal when they were babies. Unfortunately, I had no idea quite how long each would take and how complex the apparently simple moss stitch design would prove. I’m a lot better at knitting now than I was a year ago and much quicker to spot and correct mistakes. The tens of hours I spent trying to get the decreases, cast-ons and overall pattern correct and the frustration at not understanding why the pattern wasn't coming out as I anticipated meant the elephants soon became a trial. That I spectacularly missed the deadline of when the gifts were expected didn’t help. And I still haven't worked out how to make their ears less ragged.

A couple of false starts on elephant two, a few months of ignoring the project completely and reasoning that the twins were now beyond needing soft toys and I almost let myself off the hook. But of course, I couldn’t.

A few weeks ago, we met up with Dhilan and Devan when we went en famille to the Olympic Torch event in Manchester. The boys were a delight, dancing along to the music and bashing their inflatable beaters together above the heads of their parents. I sensibly kept quiet about the jumpers I was busily knitting for them, but also instantly realised they’d still enjoy the elephants I’d long ago promised to make them. I’m still cursing the pattern and my gung-ho attitude to projects that are really beyond me, but I’ve since made lots of headway with knitting those elephants. And I’ve started enjoying the fact I’m getting somewhere with it.

By the time we next meet up with Dhilan, Devan, I'll have two lovely handmade elephant toys and two cute jumpers to present to them. Oh, and late last night I made a simple-as-can-be stocking stitch 'dude doll' from the latest Let's Knit magazine because I knew it would take barely any time at all.

Sure enough, I stuffed it and sewed it up this morning before work. It was fun and I love the fact it'll be ready to show off to my knitting friends at this week's Brockley Knits meet-up. But the satisfaction will be nothing compared to finishing those elephants and presenting them to the boys.

Ah well. As I found myself trilling in agreement with Morrissey this morning, "I started something, typical me, typical me, typical me".

Online is where money is to be made these days and I've spent a while trying to figure out the best mechanism for doing so. I've summarised some of the pros and cons of online sales setups in the introduction to Google Wallet that I recently wrote for PC Advisor.

Along the way I discovered that there isn't really a magically simple way of selling direct to your friends on Facebook, despite what plug-in pluggers Ecwid would have you believe (you end up having to create your stock list all over again, as far as I can work out). And there are far too many confusions associated with Google Wallet and Google Checkout for my liking. Google likes to change things up every now and again and tweak the tools it provides people, which here has resulted in an imperfectly integrated mash-up of the two mechanisms it offers online merchants for selling directly from their websites.

I'm beginning to see why portal sites such as Amazon Marketplace and Etsy are so attractive. You lose out because of the cut the site takes from your proceeds, but you also end up being able to get on with the all-important process of sourcing, packaging and designing your products in the first place - presumably what you got into your chosen business for in the first place.

Since I've spent a while creating stockists, seller accounts and items that people might conceivably want to buy from me - and since no matter what I do, the 'dummy' site I created in Wordpress to host my pseudo shop just won't accept my Google Buy Now buttons whichever mechanism I choose to generate the relevant code, I'm now tentatively opening shop here on my personal blog.

Should you want to indulge in some handmade socks, hats, scarves or toys for your very youngest, I'll be making them on a 'make to order' basis. But if you are happy to bear with me, I'll make you something unique for a decent price.

Email me at rosiehattersley@gmail.com to discuss what you'd like me to make - or press the Buy Now button to buy baby socks if you dare.

Thanks for your interest,

Rosie

I'd like to teach the world to knit

but I can't, because I'm left handed.

We've had two knitting events over the past two weeks (we being the Brockley Knits group I help run) and I've dismally failed to teach anyone to knit properly. Right-handed, that is.

The Brockley Knits knitting tent, complete with knitted bunting and pompoms

I first realised that showing someone how to knit when one of you is left-handed and the other right-handed is a problem at our Knit Night at the Brockley Max festival.

Having a camera and video camera in my face while I tried to show a complete beginner how to cast on didn't exactly help. But nor did trying to compensate for my left-handed ways by attempting to work out how a right-hander would wrap the yarn. It was a right mess and only got worse the more I tried. A good job other people were on hand to show newcomers how to get started and pass on their knitting skills.

It was a great night and we were really pleased with the attendance and got many compliments for the knitted bunting and 'paper' chains we'd strung around the venue. Mostly not our doing, but it was nice to decorate the place. We've even been asked to knit some for permanent display at Mr Lawrence Wine Bar, our fortnightly knitting night venue.

Last weekend, we took Brockley Knits properly public. We had a large open tent up on Hilly Fields and welcomed anyone who wished to to join us in knitting or making pompoms. Our was just one of many activities that people could join in with - face painting, making felt butterflies, creating a graphic novel, taking part in the Animal Magic Carnival Parade or simply hanging out, enjoying the live bands, dancers, craft stalls, farmers' market, bar and brand-new cafe. Brockley Max's final day is always a great day out.

Again, I had the left-handed issue when it came to teaching the basics of knitting. It transpires that my self-taught method of casting on is different from other people's too. Well, it works for me. Anyway, creating a slip knot, then a second loop that you then slip on to the same needle as the first loop shouldn't be as awkward as I manage to make it look. Once you've got the idea of what it is that you want to achieve, which hand you hold the yarn in and which direction you slip your stitches shouldn't matter all that much. A few people were happy to be shown how to knit lefthanded as they figured they were trying it out for size anyway. Ruth spent ages teaching people how to cast on and knit the more usual way and there were always pompoms for anyone who didn't fancy knitting at all.

Quite a few people came along, pulled up a chair and knitted circular chains or bunting, while many more came over and talked about the knitters in their family and expressed an interest in perhaps coming along to a daytime or evening knit sometime. The day was really about meeting knitters and generally getting our name out there, and it couldn't have gone better. We'll be knitting in Brockley again soon - and not just when it's officially World Wide Knit in Public Week.

Off-kilter pompoms

Pom poms don't have to be adornments for garments - they can be creations in their own right

We're putting on a workshop tomorrow to show kids the basics of knitting. We don't really know what age the kids will be since it's part of our local Brockley Max community arts festival and people can simply turn up and give it a go. 

Our own experience is that learning to knit doesn't necessarily come easily - but it's pretty addictive once you start. But with lots of things to do on the day and limited attention spans, we thought it a good plan to also offer pom pom making as as option. Pom poms are often used to finish off a hat, bag or scarf and are ideal as a project to take away and complete once your enthusiasm on the day wanes. 

I remember sitting in my bedroom when I was about 10 making pom poms. I haven't done much of it since. With a bagful of multicoloured scraps of yarn, I've experimented with two and three colour pompoms for my pre-event practice. Now I'm thinking of what I can use them for afterwards - ideally something that doesn't lead me back in to the danger zone of flipping through a knitting pattern book and starting a new knit so I've got something my pompom can make complete.

Pom poms can be objects in their own right. Make a few and you've got the makings of an animal body, cut out and glue on felt shapes and give yours a face or attach it to a length of elastic and taunt the cat. But there's one inescapable fact: pom poms always come out spherical. 

Since I like to do different, I'm now trying out asymmetric pom pom making for size. I've figured out that simply shifting the hole off-centre will have little effect on the finished object. So I'm trying elongated shapes instead - long animal bodies and lozenges for legs. I may even make pom pom veg. 

Rhubarb and blueberry sorbet

I've been growing rhubarb for the first time and was initially impressed with how well my little plug was progressing. Its leaves gradually withered though as the constant wind and rain took its toll and I began to regret not harvesting what I had when the red stalks were very still very small but looked juicy. 

The plant is back on track and is making steady progress now the pot is safely tucked under the cover of my makeshift plastic greenhouse and I still hope to taste its fruit in a couple of weeks time. 

Meanwhile, the UK weather has done a complete volte face and has gone from hail and torrential rain to a full on heatwave. It was 34 degrees in our garden today, which suited the Mediterranean herbs quite well but did the seedlings I was potting out no favours. 

Escaping to the cool indoors, I investigated what we could have to quench our thirst. Iced tea and coffee, especially a refreshing roiboos, but there's also a stash of pureed rhubarb my friend Susi gave us a while ago. 

I've cobbled together a DIY sorbet recipe, adding 150g of blueberries to the green rhubarb mix and a dash of mint. Ginger is a good alternative to mint, while most recipes use strawberries for the colour and additional sweetness. Several recipes I found online suggested a dash of spirits such as gin or vodka - this Kimberly Hasselbrink one looks amazing - to break down the tartness of the fruit. 

I don't have an ice cream maker so blended everything in the food mixer to make it as smooth as possible and then kept nipping indoors to stir up the mixture as it froze - a good discipline for ensuring I didn't get too much unseasonal heat. 

Rhubarb and blueberry sorbet recipe

Place 200g of stewed rhubarb (thaw out frozen stewed fruit; use fresh if available) in a heavy-bottomed saucepan. 

Simmer with 100g blueberries, 150ml of water and around 50g of caster sugar. 

Add small sprig of fresh mint or half a teaspoon of freeze-dried mint

Slowly bring to boil, stirring frequently

Remove from heat and allow mixture to cool

Whizz up the mixture in a blender until it becomes smooth

Pour into an airtight container and freeze for around two hours or until begins to firm up. Stir or break up into chunks and blend in food processor using the chopping blade. Return to freezer and allow to freeze. 

Will need around 15 minutes to become sufficiently defrosted to serve. 

Serve with fresh fruit and/bitter chocolate cookie or mouse. Add a mint leaf for decoration. 

Great British Jubilee Bake

Now that's what I call a cake. Edd Kimber's Great British Jubilee Bake

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine posted a photo of an incredible-looking cake on her Facebook page and threw down the gauntlet to her friends to try and bake a Jubilee-themed Victoria Sponge cake too.

It wasn’t an entirely random challenge. Vinnie works as a PR and one of her clients is Bart Spices. They’d got Great British Bake Off winner Edd Kimber to come up with a new spin on the good old Victoria Sponge using some of their spices sourced from various Commonwealth locales. That's his creation pictured above. 

There’s a competition running until 11th June inviting wannabe bakers to come up with their own Jubilee-themed cake: A baking masterclass is at stake.

By way of enticement to get involvement, I was sent the recipe and spices to have a bash at recreating Edd’s cake. To say I messed things up would understate things somewhat. Attempt number one was hastily abandoned after an accident with the spice grinder. This set me back a few days as I waited for a replacement to arrive. My next attempted bake tasted great but fell apart even before I’d tried the tricky feat of horizontally slicing each half of the cake in order to stuff them with creamy icing and blue and red berries.

Fingers crossed it’ll be third time lucky as there’s only a few more days left to submit entries and I don’t want to be a laughing stock on Facebook, where voting takes place: www.facebook.com/bartspices.

I'm dearly hoping it's anonymous. 

Red, white and blues

I don't know about you, but I'm finding all this British jolliness a bit wearying. Red, white and blue is a cheery trio of colours and I've as fond memories of the 1977 Silver Jubilee as anyone else. We had a lovely street party, the sun shone and I remember being made very welcome by the ladies who were pleased to have a young volunteer for buttering sandwiches before we all tucked in to a vast picnic.

But 1977 was a full 35 years ago and there ought to be some more relevant cultural signifiers than Union Jacks being enthusiastically waved and its familiar motif being spattered across anything able to take a print. The good old red, white and blue is having a dreadful effect on fashion, as a stroll down the aisles of most high street retailers proves. Bed sheets with elongated Union Jacks, floor length and with enormous armholes at the sides are neither maxi dresses or beach cover ups. They're just dreadful.

Last week I witnessed the daubing of the Union Jack right across both windows of one of the most prominently placed pubs in the Leicester Square/Covent Garden tourist zone. Sure enough, when I walked past the next day, not only was the view from the windows completely obliterated, but a giant fry-up and a call to come on in for some Great British Grub was superimposed over the top. We have a tough enough time convincing sceptical overseas visitors about the excellent cuisine to be found in the UK, without reminders of such unhealthy examples. Ok, I'm being a bit of a snob here, but I do think we're playing up our dear old stereotypes when there's no need.

This year's Jubilee is also responsible for an outbreak of bunting - and here I'm guilty of encouraging it as I thought some simple garter stitch pennants in bright colours would be the ideal project for a knitting workshop I'm helping run as part of our local community arts festival.

There are numerous examples of kitschy flowered fabrics snipped into shape and finished with crimped edges - perfect if you want to put on an afternoon tea and serve it on your lawn or in a summerhouse to ladies of a certain age with pressed curls, faces powdered and defiant red lips. I'm afraid I don't know many ladies like that and I'm just as fed up with the tweeness as I am as the giant flags adorning every surface.

Luckily, bunting doesn't have to be kitsch or monarchist - it simply signifies celebration. So while I'm sticking to bunting for its conveniently small size and speediness to create, I'm also slipping in a few non-traditional motifs of my own. After all, Her Maj is Queen of the Commonwealth, which currently comprises 54 countries. That gives us an awful lot more scope than simply red, white and blue.