Having leafed over into a fresh year, it’s the perfect time to start something ambitious, right? I’ve written here before about my love and respect for Bohus knitting, and this winter I’ve finally decided to stop dithering, stop making it too precious, and just plunge headlong into my Wild Apple kit.


I’ve got extra momentum to tackle this magnum opus because I’ve been fueling up on Bohus research and happily immersing myself in the wonderful new Bohus book. In a bolt from the blue (the likes of which I haven’t known since the day Jared Flood emailed me and asked if I’d be his copywriter!), Vogue Knitting came knocking last August with an offer I couldn’t help but accept: an open-ended article on Bohus history to lay the foundation for a “Swedish Modern” design collection. I felt this was an important opportunity to tell the remarkable tale of the Bohus Stickning company, including the modern chapter of the reproduction kits. And I immediately set about seeking permissions to reprint as many pictures of the original garments as I could shake out of the bushes. Everyone I spoke to in Sweden—Solveig Gustafsson, dyer and recreator of the Bohus originals; Pernille Silfverberg, angora farmer and new bearer of Solveig’s torch; Viveka Overland of the Bohusläns Museum, author of Bohus Stickning: The Revival—was utterly lovely and so very generous in sharing knowledge, providing photos, and reading my drafts. Susanna Hansson, Wendy Keele, and Meg Swansen replied to my queries and offered encouragement stateside. This month my article is in print and on newsstands!


The photos you see here are of designer Kerstin Olsson wearing her 1963 design Rain Clouds (left); the model at right is wearing a version of Karin Ivarsson’s The Swan (1966). Below is Emma Jacobsson in the Bohus Stickning stockroom in 1964. Both are from the Bohusläns Museum’s excellent collection.

And as for my Wild Apple, I’ve joined in the third color—only twelve more to go! I’ll be a little mournful when the yoke is complete; these tiny stitches and mesmerizing interplay of colors are totally hypnotic.


What challenges are you setting yourself for 2016, knitting or otherwise?

In December



Christmas 2015

Christmas 2015-3






On this final day of Winter Break—extended by 24 hours, thanks to a surprise ice storm—I’m watching puppet shows and Waltzes of the Flowers. (The children received many wonderful gifts, including the buoy swing shown above, but nothing made a bigger splash than a set of colorful tutus, which now feature in daily impromptu ballet performances. Just the thing for the indoor exercise we’ve desperately needed during the rainiest month EVER.) We’ve had lovely family visits, many games of War and Solitaire in front of the fire, a little bit of snow, a lot of cookies, and—best of all—whole luxurious days of unscheduled time. A fair bit of knitting transpired, but it was mostly hats and gloves and they were mostly gifts and only this purple pom for Jolly ended up in front of the camera. It’s made of Socks That Rock Lightweight in the color Morticia held together with Rowan Angora Haze. The STR swings from black to magenta; the Angora Haze is a solid plum color that matches the midtones and I was delighted to discover how effectively it muted the variegation. The angora also makes the hat ever so soft and cozy, of course, and this mother is pleased that her boy will agree to keep it on his head. I’m going to try the same experiment on a sort of muddy rainbow skein that Ada chose, pairing it with an ochre gold—although she’s just informed me that what she’d really like is a hat based on the yoke of my Flight sweater. She wants bright colors—leaf green, violet, pink or orange, yellow—with “the birds” in white and I’m intrigued by the design challenge of blending these to create an entirely different effect from the original browns! I think I’ve got Loft leftovers enough to pull it off and I’ve been using Brooklyn Tweed’s new online color comparison feature to dream up the right color run; Sap-Plume-Birdbook-Camper-Hayloft looks promising. Oh, and a pompon! Little children dig pompons the most.

2016 looks like a big and busy year for my little family! I’m kicking it off with a bit of self-indulgent insta-knitting: Thea Colman’s Stillhouse Vest. Mine’s in Hematite Quarry and it’s halfway done already, thanks to a couple of car trips and an evening of Sherlock. But next on the needles is something truly spectacular. More on that very soon!

Wishing every one of you an invigorating plunge into new possibilities or kindly tailwinds as your soul requires in this new year. Cin cin.


It’s been quite a while since I’ve done a good old-fashioned Finished Knit post, eh? Let’s take this knitting blog back to its roots. We spent Thanksgiving with my parents and managed a walk up on beautiful Mount Grant (though I prefer its other name, Lawson Ridge) with Dad’s camera. The battery gave out after just a few snaps, and I am making unforgivably awkward faces in most of them, but we’ll go with what we’ve got. I give you Cordova, Michele Wang’s scrumptious textural pullover from the BT Winter 15 collection.


Sassy fashion pose purely accidental. Small photobomber at least wearing a handknit.

I cast this one on back in January; the pattern release coincided with my acquisition of a sweater’s worth of incredible Elsa Wool Cormo and they just had to be together. The knitting was always delightful, but not without the kind of hiccups one tends to encounter when one’s gauge isn’t spot on. (More details on that in my Ravelry notes.) I think I knit one of the sleeve caps four times and the other one twice. In the end, all my tinkering paid off and I’ve got saddle shoulders that fit perfectly.


I just love Michele’s eye for combining cables and textured ground stitches. There’s so much luscious depth to this fabric. It’s warm, but not too heavy in the woolen-spun yarn. The Elsa Wool held its gauge after a wash, not stretching out at all, which was my worry when I tried on the seamed sweater before blocking and already loved the fit.


This photo is one of the awkward ones, but it’s good of the sweater so you get to see it anyway.

I’ve worn my Cordova five or six times in the week it’s been finished. It’s that cozy, and it goes with pretty much everything. And since the temperature took a plunge just as I finished blocking it, the timing couldn’t have been better. We had almost a whole week of cold, clear weather, a rare gift in this damp part of the world. (Our weather forecast now shows rain stretching on forever into the distance. Sigh. I don’t mind rain, but I could do without an inch and a half of it and strong winds on the day we were planning to go choose a Christmas tree.)

With Cordova finished, it’s time for a flurry of gift knits that I won’t be able to post here. December is upon us. The tomten has already delivered peppermints and spiced apple tea to the children. My five-year-old has only two weeks of school this month and I’m storing up crafting ideas for the long vacation stretching ahead. She’s very keen on decorating, so I think I may set her to stringing cranberry garlands. Help me out here, friends — what other elving projects have been successful for your little ones?