The mighty brandied cherry is complete!
Does it look like the brandied cherry Thea Colman herself made? Well no. Mine’s decidedly less boxy and oversized with no positive ease or turned up cuffs. This was half intentional in that I didn’t make up the size with the recommended positive ease and half dumb luck as I never washed and blocked my swatch. What can I say, I like living on the edge! (Actually Emma will confirm that I was frantically clinging to the fact that her swatch and finished pieces grew like weeds when she duly blocked them.)
I’m noticing a trend with K&Q sweater projects and me though.
This happened the second time I tried to bind off the collar, the first being too tight as I was worried I wouldn’t have enough yarn left to do my usual super stretchy bind off. I was right, I didn’t. Instead of breaking into the four (yes FOUR) remaining balls, I decided to dig up my swatch and sacrifice it, it felt good.
Yarn shortages and surpluses aside, I do like this sweater, it’s not as warm as I have come to expect from handmade sweaters though. Winter weather has finally come to Melbourne and I was hoping the cables would be extra warm and snuggly. Guess I’m just going to have to knit another sweater. I am being faithful to the knitting and quinces projects though as I’ve already crocheted up the motifs for the back leg of my hippo, just need to assemble them and start hooking up the bum (sounds kinda dirty…) the next sweater project will just have to wait.
You might be thinking that the colours look familiar and they are indeed, it’s the remains from the victory hat! Gotta love a stash buster. Perhaps I’ll call my hippo Victrola, hmm…
In other news, I have a confession to make. I’ve been sitting on a pile of quinces for the better part of three months. They were just too beautiful to cook up, new season, unblemished and unbruised. I kept thinking I would buy more and cook up the current ones I have but after that first flush of glorious quinces the offerings have been meager. Now I worry it’s too late in the season, I was at a farmers market on Saturday and there was not a single quince to be found. I should have bought up big months ago. Spurred on by the desire to buy any decent quince I might find without fear of retribution from Pete about having another growing stash to contend with, I finally took the plunge and cooked up some of my yellow beauties. It never ceases to amaze me how they turn from this:
I’ve since been drowning my sorrows with the breakfast of the ancient gods each morning – pancakes with quinces and golden syrup and enjoying every bite!