Knitting the Clapotis Scarf

"Clapotis" is a French term. From Wikipedia the definition is:

clapotis (from French: "lapping of water") is a non-breaking standing wave pattern, caused for example, by the reflection of a traveling surface wave train from a near vertical shoreline like a breakwater, seawall or steep cliff. The resulting clapotic wave does not travel horizontally, but has a fixed pattern of nodes and antinodes.

The pattern for knitting the clapotis scarf is a free download available from Knitty. Author of the design, Kate Gilbert, writes:

French women are known for wearing scarves. Starting in September and until summer arrives, this is a most important accessory. The scarf may be striped or patterned, colorful, wrinkled and is much bigger than the scarves you probably have. Women just wrap the scarf around their neck in a "Je suis belle et ça ne demande aucun effort*" sort of way and off they go.

Since I have lived in Paris, I have realized that these ladies are on to something. I find I am much warmer wearing a scarf, even if I’m not wearing a jacket, so here is my knit version of the French scarf. It’s knit on the bias so the variegated yarn makes diagonal stripes and stitches are carefully dropped to make a pattern in the opposite direction. This creates a scarf which tends to be a little more of a parallelogram than a rectangle, but I promise, it’s nice that way.

This description of the scarf intrigued me, and since I was looking for a new scarf project, the free download pattern found here was the unique design which would capture me into another knitting web.

Here is a picture of the Clapotis Scarf which I started last week. The fiber is 50% silk and 50% soft, buttery wool from the website of eatsleepknit in the colorway named "Tuscany." More information about the yarn can be found here at Lornas Laces Lion and Lamb. It has a cozy, delicate hand to the fiber and is a joy to hold while knitting up the intriguing stitch pattern.

Initially, it was problematic for me in deciphering the instructions, but with a little help from my friends at Ravelry, it was sorted out in short order.

And here is the website address for designer Gilbert's finished clapotis shawl being modeled at Library Picture.

Faroese Shawl

After two months of hard knitting (yes, difficult), the Faroese Shawl from "A Gathering of Lace" book by Meg Swanson is completed.

Daughter Heidy is showcasing the needlework. Its finished size is 80" x 36". Phew.

The Faroese Shawl takes its title from the Faroe Islands that are northwest of Scotland and halfway between Iceland and Norway.

Artisans from that area ... "here in quiet homes, often far from the nearest neighbor, gossimer fine wool is transformed into cobweb-like beauty..." (from Rae Compton, The Complete Book of Traditional Knitting).

This was a fairly difficult endeavor, but worth the effort for future chilly evenings.

Vegetable Love Poem by Barbara Crooker

by Barbara Crooker

Feel a tomato, heft its weight in your palm,
think of buttocks, breasts, this plump pulp.
And carrots, mud clinging to the root,
gold mined from the earth's tight purse.
And asparagus, that push their heads up,
rise to meet the returning sun,
and zucchini, green torpedoes
lurking in the Sargasso depths
of their raspy stalks and scratchy leaves.
And peppers, thick walls of cool jade, a green hush.
Secret caves. Sanctuary.
And beets, the dark blood of the earth.
And all the lettuces: bibb, flame, oak leaf, butter-
crunch, black-seeded Simpson, chicory, cos.
Elizabethan ruffs, crisp verbiage.
And spinach, the dark green
of northern forests, savoyed, ruffled,
hidden folds and clefts.
And basil, sweet basil, nuzzled
by fumbling bees drunk on the sun.

And cucumbers, crisp, cool white ice
in the heart of August, month of fire.
And peas in their delicate slippers,
little green boats, a string of beads,
repeating, repeating.
And sunflowers, nodding at night,
then rising to shout hallelujah! at noon.

All over the garden, the whisper of leaves
passing secrets and gossip, making assignations.
All of the vegetables bask in the sun,
languorous as lizards.
Quick, before the frost puts out
its green light, praise these vegetables,
earth's voluptuaries,
praise what comes from the dirt.

"Vegetable Love" by Barbara Crooker, from Radiance. © Word Press, 2005.