Summer has come to Britain, with most of us sweltering in temperatures into the low 30s centigrade. (I am, of course, using “most of us” here in the same sense that weather forecasters do, i.e., meaning everyone but those of us—sorry, “you”—in the far north of Scotland.) But don’t get me wrong: I wouldn’t have it any other way. Caithness is currently basking in a cool 15-19ºC, with a cool sea breeze, and it’s delightful. After all, you can always add an extra layer if you’re cold; but there are limits to how far you can go if you’re too hot. And while I do possess a pair of shorts, I’m so unused to seeing my legs in the flesh, as it were, that I keep mistaking them for a pair of pink hairy caterpillars that have mutated after a nuclear disaster, and the shock is too much for my weak heart. I still remember the time I opened the door to the postman in my shorts and he shied like a startled mustang, flinging his letters to at least three of the four winds.
I don’t wear bathing trunks for much the same reason, the overall effect resembling a rubber band stretched round the middle of an over-inflated pink balloon. This is where I always feel the Victorians got the tone just right, refusing to enter any assemblage of water more copious than a bathtub in anything less than a full suit of evening dress, preferably with a top hat and monocle. No, all in all I’ve found my spiritual home in Caithness, where summer means transitioning from a heavy sweater to a light one (though keep the heavy one handy).
Speaking of sweaters… here’s the finished picture of the Mrs Hunter’s gansey. As ever, washing and blocking has done its magic and opened it out so you can see the gansey in its true proportions. I don’t have any superlatives left to say how wonderful this pattern knits up, except to say the textures really catch the light: it’s a stunner. And it’s a deceptively simple pattern that pays you back tenfold for the effort you put in. You do have to like cables, though.
And one thing about the sunshine, at least we’ve had nice weather for the fall of the government. Britain famously doesn’t have a written constitution, but instead relies on what is called the “good chaps” theory of government, the notion that decent people will govern us decently. (And I can’t help wondering, as I think back on just about every government since Lord North lost the American colonies back in 1783: oh yes? What good chaps exactly would these be?) Still, two quotes occur to me as we witness the long goodbye of our current prime minister. Firstly, the quote ascribed to Oscar Wilde on the tragic death of Little Nell in Dickens’ The Old Curiosity Shop (but which only appears some 30 years after Wilde died, so is, alas, probably not true): “One would have to have a heart of stone not to laugh”. And secondly, the one about football managers leaving as they arrived, “fired with enthusiasm…”
At least you can still see your legs Gordon. After some interpretation, William Penn’s writing seems to boil down to ‘you get the government you are ready for’. The notion being a bit like the playing cards with the queen of hearts (not chopping off heads) on one side and the corrupt imperial civil servants ensuring no good governance can ever occur on the other.
Hi Dave, I guess we do get the governments we deserve, what with democracy, free will and all. I always thought the worst two words in the language were “us” and “them” – even if they did inspire one of Pink Floyd’s greatest songs – because division and tribalism seems baked into our shrivelled souls. As Tony Hancock bewailed, “Did Magna Carta die for this?”
Yes definitely one to add for the future. A stunna.
As an aside: to those looking for 4ply worsted spun wool. Jamieson and Smith( Shetland wool brokers.co.uk) Shetland Heritage range may be what you are looking for.
Thankee Kevin. Though it is, as ever, a copy of someone else’s creation – I’m the Sealed Knot equivalent of knitting!
I love this pattern. Where can I find instructions that a good knitter can use to make a similar sweater?
I love this sweater. Where can I find instructions that a pretty good knitter like myself can use to make a similar sweater?
Hi Barbara, there isn’t a knitting pattern for this you can buy that I’m aware of. Though I’ve posted the charts in one of the previous weeks – if you want to take this further I’d be happy to talk you through it. If you haven’t knit a gansey before I’d suggest you take a look at my How To section in the Knitting Ganseys menus in the toolbar above, and maybe get hold of Beth Brown-Reinsel’s book. But as an experienced knitter you should have all you need. Then get 2 x 500g cones from Frangipani in your chosen colour, and a 2.25mm circular needle 80cm long, and off you go!
Oh yes!!! A goodie indeed! Scrumptious pattern, has my fingers itching to give it a go!
Well, after I finish the 281 other projects on hand ………….
Hi Lois, 281 projects, huh? What are you going to do after Christmas when you’ve finished them…? ?
Beautiful work. Maybe someday. First I’d have to find the needles.
I gave up shorts for similar reasons, but I will swim– lately it’s about twice per decade.
Gorgeous sweater, Gordon, although I like them
all, this is another one in the “special” category.
I do agree with you, that some of the simplest
patterns often times make the most pleasing
and balanced sweaters or should I say jumpers?
. . .And where does that come from?
“A kind of loose outer jacket or shirt reaching to the hips”, in other words what I would call a fisherman’s smock. The origin has nothing to do with the verb to jump, but comes from the dialect jump or jup, meaning a man’s short coat or a woman’s under-bodice or tunic. This may derive in turn from the French juppe, a petticoat (now in modern French, jupe, “skirt”), which ultimately derived from the Arabic jubba, a loose outer garment. ??