A Little Ooh La La

 

Many years ago I discovered Joan McGowan-Michael's fabulous lingerie-inspired knitting designs, and in particular her pattern for thigh-high stockings. 

 

 

 

 

I think I've been aware of McGowan-Michael's Marlaina Thigh-High Stockings design since shortly after it was published in 2009, and I have longed to make them since I first saw them. They're so satisfyingly quaint, beautiful, romantic, and a little ooh la la. I love historical fashions, but I'm no Bernadette Banner. My style runs to the simple and sensible, and isn't at all costumey. It isn't often I can find a way to incorporate historical fashions or historically inspired elements into my wardrobe, but it seemed to me that these stockings were very wearable. I firmly intended to make them for several years. Then I started becoming more practical and realistic about my project planning, and I asked myself what these stockings would go with in my wardrobe. I couldn't seem to come up with a colour that would work with my existing clothes. (I think I was limiting my thinking to the colour selection of the kits available for this project: Cranberry, Charcoal, and Ivory.) I decided I wouldn't wear them, and regretfully struck them from my project list. Then a few years ago I realized that if I were to make these stockings in a dark brown, they would work with plenty of my skirts and dresses, and they went back on my knitting list. 

It did feel a little on the drearily practical side to knit stockings like this in brown. But it works for me, and while dark chocolate brown may not seem like the most exciting or sexy colour to others, I've come to love it. It's such a warm, rich shade, and it's flattering to me, unlike black, which makes me look like a hag.

 

 

 

I purchased two skeins of Pro Lana Sockenwolle Melange in brown, and knitted the stockings in size Large (8-9). There were two modifications involved. I found I didn't care at all for the look of the Honeybee stitch, it would have shown more of my skin than I wanted, and I could just imagine all those loose strands constantly catching on everything every time I wore the stockings. I looked through my knitting stitch books, and wound up using a lace motif from a more complex stitch design from Hitomi Shida's Japanese Knitting Stitch Bible (#113, found on page 65). I also made the stockings 32" long (measured from the bottom of the heel to the top of the stocking) rather than the 24" the pattern calls for. I have long legs for my height, and I wanted to be able to wear the stockings with an above the knee skirt without worrying that the tops were showing. I was happy with the resulting design and fit.

But I wasn't quite satisfied with the colour of the yarn. It was a little grayish and tweedy in tone, not the dark chocolate brown I always try to buy so all my brown clothes, shoes, and accessories will work together. When I got the yarn home from Romni Wool and compared it to my dresses and skirts, I found it did go with a few of my things in my closet as was, but it would go with more things if it were darker. So I decided to dye the stockings to the shade of brown I wanted once I'd gotten them knitted, as that would be easier than trying to dye hanks of yarn.   

 

 

 

 

The stockings, and the leftover 22 grams of yarn, after dyeing. I used Rit Dye in Brown, and also put the stockings through a fixative process. I'm so much happier with the colour now. It was a time-consuming business winding the tangled partial skein into a ball after I'd dyed it, but it was worth it, as I'll be able to darn the stockings in the same colour yarn.

 

 

 

 

The only thing left to do was insert the elastic and the ribbons through the holes at the top, and then photograph the stockings. The first task was a straightforward matter. I found a large tapestry needle did the threading much faster and more easily than my fingers. I put the elasticized and beribboned stockings on and discovered the stockings had shrunk slightly in the dyeing process. They still fit width-wise, but they're 30" long instead of 32". I could rip back the lace at the top and add another two inches to the length with the leftover yarn, but I probably won't bother. They're still a very workable length on me. 

The photography shoot was another matter. I had grand plans of taking a shot of my legs in the stockings, but I discovered it's very difficult to get a good shot of one's own legs in thigh-high stockings. The images that appeared in the preview window of my digital camera when I was trying to find a good angle were so unflattering (i.e., horrifyingly large thighs and absurdly tiny feet) that I never bothered taking a shot. And it's not easy to take a nice photo of stockings just by themselves. You'll have noticed that the sample shot shows the stocking on a leg form. 

But, um, here are the stockings in a heap!

 

 

 

 Here's a shot of the front lace panel in the stockings. 

 

 

 

And here's a shot of the stockings neatly rolled. This is how I keep them in my stocking and tights drawer.

Lacklustre photography aside, I really am very satisfied with my beautiful brown thigh-high stockings, have a plan to wear them with a tartan skirt at a Scottish-themed dinner party I'm planning for January, if not earlier, and I even intend to keep my pattern print out, with its attached chart of the lace stitch I used and my notes, in my pattern library so as to be able to make a replacement pair of stockings when these wear out, or even a pair in another colour.  

The Lone Houseplant

 

 

When I hosted an Irish-themed supper party in late March 2026, my friend Lindsie, who was one of the guests, presented me with a baby aloe vera in a 2" pot upon her arrival. As she put it, "It's green."

I hadn't had houseplants at Swan's End in many years. In the condo I used to own, I had lots of thriving plants. I rather prided myself on my indoor gardening ability in those years, but the fact was my plants did so well because they got loads of light. One end of my living room was almost all window with  a southeastern exposure, which created an environment for plants that was one stop short of a greenhouse.

After five and a half years of condo life, I moved to the three-bedroom semi-detached I now own in 2006, bringing all my plants with me. Swan's End has no side windows, and mostly smallish windows at the front and the back of the house. Also, as I was now living at street level and close to a busy street with a lot of foot traffic, I preferred to keep my bedroom and living room curtains closed. Over the next few years, my plants all dwindled and died. I bought new plants, and they also died. I bought specifically low-light plants, and they died too. I came to realize that I could only have plants in a few places in the house: by the kitchen window, and in the attic casement window. In 2009, after three years of struggling with a chronic and horrifyingly severe mouse problem, I adopted my cat Trilby, who turned out to be a dedicated hunter with a voracious appetite, which was great mouse control-wise, but not so good for my plants, as he would routinely attack and eat them. A few years later, after my last houseplant died, I gave up entirely on keeping houseplants, telling myself I would have to content myself with outdoor gardening in the summer. Sometimes I would start bulbs in the attic window in late winter, keeping the door to the attic shut so Trilby could not molest them, but that was all.   

And now, in 2026, I had a plant again. I was glad to get it. Aloe veras are useful for first-aid and cosmetic purposes, and I could keep it by the kitchen window without fear, as since September 2021, Trilby has been in his resting place underneath the apricot tree in the back garden, where he loved to play and try to catch birds and butterflies. 

I very soon got on the job of repotting the aloe vera, because the tiny flowerpot it came in had no drainage holes and was just intended to be temporary. I checked to see if the old cupboard in the lean-to had any 4" pots. I had just one, a thin plastic number of the type that comes with a new plant. My self-watering pots were all 6" or larger. I repotted the aloe vera into the 4" pot I had, but soon found I didn't like having to water it daily. I did some internet searches to see where I could buy a 4" self-watering pot, and could only find some I didn't like or that had to be bought in lots of five. Then it occurred to me that perhaps I could rig up a self-watering mechanism for the aloe vera, using materials I had around the house.

 

 

 

This was my first attempt at creating a self-watering pot. I don't usually buy pop, but I had bought one bottle of club soda to make pitchers of Emerald Isle Mocktail for my Irish supper party, so I did some surgery on it once it was empty. It was utilitarian, but I didn't care for the look of it. I also used kitchen twine for the wick, which worked after a fashion but was not ideal. The soil was clearly getting some water via the twine, but always looked a little on the dry side to me. I decided I needed to upgrade the wick, and also wanted to find a way to use my favourite flowerpot, a 6" enamelled number I'd bought at a thrift shop years before. 

 

 

 

Cotton is supposed to be the best fibre for self-watering wicks, as it's very absorbent. I had cotton yarn in my stash, and used 10 grams of it to knit an 8" I-cord for the wick. This was definitely my fastest and easiest knitting project of the year. It may also have been the most genuinely useful.  

 

 

To thread the wick through the soil, I stuck a crochet hook down into the aloe vera pot until it emerged from one of the drainage holes, hooked one end of the knitted wick onto the crochet hook, and pulled the wick up through the pot until it was just below the surface of the soil. 

I put an old margarine tub in the flowerpot, which protected the metal flowerpot from rusting away and created a reservoir for the water. Then I just needed a way to keep the aloe vera pot above the waterline. A rock from the garden served the purpose.
 

    

 

 

This is a photo of the aloe vera as of September 7th, 2026. As you can see if you compare it to the older photos of it above, it has grown quite a bit in just over five months, and it looks healthy and happy. I think it should be ready to graduate to one of my 6" self-watering pots by its first birthday. I'll still get to use this enamelled flowerpot, as the 6" self-watering pot will fit inside it.   

And I'd say something about how I now have renewed faith in my gardening abilities if I weren't afraid my woefully neglected front and back gardens would respond by staging some sort of vengeful Day of the Triffids-style attack on the house.

One Slipper & Two Necklaces

 

A friend of mine J. (who is mostly an "online friend", although I have met her once, at a Las Vegas Elvis-themed wedding of some mutual online friends back in 2006), is currently battling cancer. In 2025 she spent five months in the hospital after having her left leg, hip, and half her pelvis amputated. She's currently back in the hospital as the surgical wound hasn't healed well and required more surgeries, including one on her spine. She has had a harder time with cancer than any cancer patient I have ever known, and through it all she has demonstrated an astounding level of courage, fortitude, and positivity. I could never be as brave and un-self-pitying as she has been under like circumstances. Hell, I can't even be like that under ordinary circumstances.  

Last March after receiving a particularly harrowing health update from J., I felt I simply must do something concrete to support her. J. lives in England and I can't visit her in the hospital as I would like, and sending her funny cat memes and entertaining gossip wasn't cutting it. I emailed J. to ask if she would like a slipper. She replied that she'd love one, so I asked her if she had a favourite or preferred colour, and what her shoe size was. She told me she loves green, particularly olive, forest, and sage shades. 

 

 

 

  

I looked in my stash, and found part of a skein of olive-coloured DK wool (Loops & Thread Luxe Merino in Avocado) that would make a nice slipper, then searched Ravelry for a cute slipper pattern that would stay securely on the foot. The last thing J. needs is a trip hazard. I soon selected the Slippers with border design you see above, designed by Katerina Mushyn. I found some brass beads in my jewelry making box that would look nice against the green, and the project was a go. 

 

 

 

The finished slipper. As you saw in the sample shot, this slipper stretches out and takes the shape of the foot when worn, but it looks amusingly like an elf's slipper when lying flat. 

I expected to be done this slipper in less than two evenings, but time-consuming mistakes were made. I think the problem was that the Russian designer had some translation difficulties with the English version. The pattern says to purl the even rows when the whole slipper is knitted in garter stitch. I also had a little trouble with figuring out how to sew it together. So I although I was just making a single slipper, I technically made two with only one to show for the effort. But it got done. And then I started thinking about what other little things I could make for my friend. I came up with a few ideas of things I could make out of supplies I had on hand. 

 

 

 

 First I made J. four bookmarks out of old greeting cards, one for each season. 

 

 

 

Then I thought perhaps I could make a bracelet, one that would coordinate with her beaded slipper. I quickly upgraded the bracelet plan into a necklace plan, because it occurred to me that a bracelet might catch on things, such as her walker, and upset J.'s already precarious balance. I had a good selection of green beads on hand and was able to put together a necklace entirely out of the supplies in my bead box. J.'s birthstone is an emerald, but I didn't happen to have any of those lying around, so I went with peridot chips, some lime green plastic beads, some dark green beads that I think are some kind of stone although I don't know what specifically, and some brass beads and spacer beads. 

 

 

 

The finished necklace. I thought it came together quite well. 

 

 

 

 

When it came time to package the gift, I stuck to the green theme as well as I could. I had a burgundy jewelry gift box, but I made a little bed for the necklace but cutting first a few squares of fleece and then a larger square of olive satin lining from my remnant drawer, then tied up the box with a green ribbon. I tied the bookmarks together with a green ribbon too, and looked through my box of notecards to find the one that had the most green on it. I put everything in a padded mailer and sent it off to England. 

When the little package arrived at J.'s house, there was a note on it from Royal Mail customs saying the envelope had arrived damaged, and just the slipper, card, bookmarks, and the ribbon from the necklace box were in the package. The necklace and its box were gone. None of the remaining contents were damaged, including the ribbon from the box, so J. and I both agreed that it appeared to be a matter of deliberate theft.  

Ooooh, was I ever mad. That little package of gifts was intended to take J.'s mind off all of her difficulties for a few minutes, and to have her reception of the gift spoiled in that way made me feel positively murderous. I hadn't insured the package, so there was no tracking information, which meant there would be no restitution from either Canada Post or Royal Mail. My only consolation was that the thief might have hoped to score a pair of slippers, and was disgruntled and confused when there was only one in the package. I hope your feet are perpetually cold, you shithead.  

I sent J. the photos I'd taken of the necklace, and asked her if she'd like me to send her another just like it. She said she thought it was beautiful, that it was just the kind of thing she likes, that it would go perfectly with a dress of hers (she supplied a photo of the dress, and yes it would), and if I wouldn't mind....

 

 

 

Necklace number two. I did change the order of the beads a little, as I thought it looked better that way, but otherwise it's the same as the first. 

 

 

 

J. advised me not to put the second necklace in a box, and to describe the contents of the package as "beads" rather than as a necklace, to make it less tempting to any would-be thieves. I wanted to put the beads in something, so I made a little sachet bag out of fabric from my remnant drawer, and tied it with ribbon. J. will be able to fill the sachet bag with dried lavender and put it in her linen closet, sweater cupboard, or lingerie drawer if she likes. 

This second time around, I insured the package. It got to J. fully intact. She was very pleased with her new necklace, posting a photo of it as her "Photo of the Day" and describing it as "absolutely gorgeous". 

All the same, I have told J. that if she sees someone wearing that first necklace, to accidentally run them over with her electric wheelchair about eight times. After all, she's just learning to manage the controls on her wheelchair, and is battling cancer. No jury would convict. 

The Off the Mark Dress & Purse

 

When it came time to select a pattern for my grandniece Holly's Christmas 2026 dress, I turned as always to Ravelry.

 

 

 

 

 

I soon decided on S27-9 Forest Dance, which you see pictured above, by Drops Design. It's a free pattern. As for the yarn, I went to Romni Wools during their Boxing Week sale as always, and found... nothing. I could not seem to find a DK yarn that seemed suitable for a dress for a little girl of three and a half. I eventually just gave up, purchased the yarn I'd found for some other projects, and then made a stop at the Stockyards Michaels, which isn't far from Romni Wools. While there, I found some Loops & Threads Luxe Merino in Pine, which is a flecked dark green. I couldn't find a yarn I liked for the contrast colour, but I bought three skeins of the Luxe Merino, then rushed back to Romni Wools just before it closed for the day, where I bought a single skein of Drops Karisma in Orange, although I thought it was more of a burnt orange or rust colour.   

 

 

 

 

The finished dress in a size 3/4. As I recall the project knitted up with no problems. I knitted it in two colours rather than in three as the pattern called for, and the only other modification was that I added a picot edging to the hem and cuffs in the burnt orange, as I thought the dress looked a little plain without it. It's not a bad little dress, and it will suit Holly's colouring beautifully, though I have been told since that Holly loves pink and purple. Oops.

 

 

 

 

I made a little purse to go with the dress, using the Squircle pattern I've used countless times before. To make the purse match the dress, I used the pattern from the hem of the dress around the top, and added a line of picot crochet around the top. And as I always do when making one of these little knitted bags, I cut a round piece of stiff interfacing, fitted it into the bottom of the bag, knitted a second bottom for the bag, then sewed the second bottom in place over the interfacing piece. Doing that makes the bag hold its shape better when it has things in it, and also makes it sit better. 

 

 

 

 

 As for the rest of Holly's present, I picked out a few little things at Dollarama: a stuffed toy lamb, a unicorn-themed colouring and activity book, and a box of crayons, as Holly really likes to colour. I thought this wasn't such a bad little gift, and then I was told that Holly really likes ponies and sharks, so I'm way off the mark. Holly will just have to chalk me up as some hopelessly out-of-touch fossil of a great-aunt.  

When One Hat Leads to Another

 

Of late years, I've been trying to avoid making myself any new knitted tams, given that I have seven of them. But in 2025, I began thinking about how I didn't have a hat that worked with a certain scarf that I have. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The scarf, which you see depicted above, is one I bought from a Salvation Army thrift shop here in Toronto in 2002 for $2. It's made of a floral print copper-coloured velvet on one side with a dark red velvet and three brass buttons on the other side. Velvet scarves like this one were a trend in the late nineties. They don't seem to be in style now but I don't care. As far as I am concerned, a beautiful, useful item like this is always in style. I've gotten many compliments on this scarf, and after all these years it's still in nearly perfect condition.  

 

But none of my hats looked quite right with this scarf. I decided I wanted a hat that would coordinate with it, and also work with my quilted velvet olive jacket and olive wool overcoat (which were also purchased at Toronto thrift shops in the early 2000s, for $17 and $8 respectively) that I usually pair with this scarf. So, I decided to let myself make just one more hat. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I searched Ravelry for a suitable pattern and came up with the Lacy Swirls Hat, by Ann Regis. I searched for yarn that would work with the scarf. That was a longer and more time-consuming search, which I had to conduct in person, taking the scarf along with me for comparison. I should have been sensible and selected a superwash DK, but when I saw some gorgeous skeins of  Sandnes Garn Tynn Silk Mohair in a rich copper colour in Toronto's Eweknit yarn store, my raging mohair fetish got the better of me and I bought two skeins of it. 

 

 

 

 

 

The finished hat. I made some modifications to the pattern. The pattern called for two colours and I just used one. It called for a DK, and I had bought a lace weight. I used two strands of the Tynn and 4.5 mm needles to knit this hat, which got me close to the gauge the design called for. The pattern also called for a plain ribbed brim. My vision for this hat involved putting three decorative brass buttons on it. I won't usually put non-functional closures on an item because that tends to cheapen the look, but in this case I had some crested brass buttons in my button tin that would look so nice on this particular hat, and I also thought they would make the hat and scarf look more in accord. I consulted my knitting library to find a suitable cable pattern, with the idea that the buttons would look more integrated into the design if I could sew them into one of the cables. 

I consulted all the knitting stitch books in my knitting library, and ultimately selected edging no. 222 (p. 118) from the Japanese Knitting Stitch Bible, by Hitomi Shida. I just had to cast on 96 stitches instead of the 90 the pattern called for to make the brim cable repeats work out evenly, and then increase to 99 stitches for the body of the hat. 

 

 

 

 

 

The hat is beautiful, and goes quite well with my treasured velvet scarf, but... it's not very warm at all. And now I'm planning another, much warmer hat in a butterscotch colour so I can wear my olive green coats and the velvet scarf on cold days, though the second hat at least won't be knitted. I'll just have to try to take enough pleasure in my nice new hats that I can forget that my hat moratorium is in tatters.

Holly's Hobby is Colouring

 

In late 2024, when I was planning my knitting projects for 2025, I searched the Ravelry database for a pattern that would suitable for my grandniece Holly's Christmas 2025 dress. 

 

 

 

 

I soon decided to go with the Seamless Flower Dress, designed by Ewelina Murach. Back in 2016, I used this design to make a dress for my grandniece Cauliflower, and I had really liked the pattern. As for the yarn, I purchased 300 grams of Garnstudio Drops Karisma in Rose. I would have gone with a red this time, but Romni Wools didn't have a nice red DK in stock at the time. No matter, as this is definitely a dress that looks pretty in pink. And it turns out that Holly really likes pink. 

 

 

 

 

The dress, which I made in a size 2, knitted up without any issues. (That is, none that I can recall well over a year after finishing it.) I did remember that I didn't like the lacy effect of the lines leading to the floral design on the front when I made Cauliflower's dress, so this time around I knitted those stitches in a way that didn't leave holes. 

 

 

 

 

I didn't have a pink button that was the right shade to work on the back neckline of the dress, so I used this odd white one that I happened to have. It's actually one I found in my back yard garden years ago. It wasn't at all damaged or worn, so I brought it into the house, scrubbed it up, and tossed into my button tin, figuring it would come in handy at some point. It has a slightly iridescent colour to it that made it work pretty well with the pink of this dress. 

 

 

 

If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you'll know that my rule is that when I make a little girl's dress, there must also be a purse made to match. For this one, I used the Squircle purse pattern that I have used many times before. The purse looked a little plain, so I made a little rosette and tacked it on. I should have looked harder for a nice rosette pattern, because this one looks too rough and ready.  

 

 

When I make a Squircle purse, I always cut a round piece of stiff interfacing to fit into the bottom, then knit a second bottom piece and stitch it in place over the interfacing. The purse will then sit upright on its bottom and hold its shape instead of just flopping over. I ran a little short of the rose-coloured yarn I had bought for this dress, so when it came time to knit the bottom insert, I knitted it in some cream yarn I had on hand. 

 

 

 

 

Holly Hobbie merchandise was big in the seventies, and I think it had a brief resurgence in the early nineties, but there's little of it available for sale these days. So when I just happened to come across this excellent condition early 1990s vintage Holly Hobbie mug in a thrift shop one day in 2025, I snapped it up for Holly. 
 

 

 

 

Besides the dress, purse, and mug, I also wanted Holly to have something she could play with, so I also bought a colouring book with a pack of crayons embedded in its front for her. She was just two years and seven months old at Christmas 2025, and I wasn't sure she would be colouring yet, but I figured that if she wasn't she soon would be. 

It turned out that Holly was very much into colouring, so much so that the colouring book was the only part of her gift she had any interest in. Oh well, perhaps she'll come to appreciate and enjoy the dress, purse, and mug in time. 

Scrapping With Sawyer

 

 

For my grandnephew Sawyer's Christmas 2025 project, I didn't have to look too far for a sweater pattern.

 

 

 

 

I quickly decided to go with the Sverrigsgade pattern, designed by Sanne Bjerregaard. I'd used this pattern before, when knitting my honorary niece Olivia's Christmas 2022 sweater. It is quite a nice design, but the real selling point was that I'd been able to make it entirely out of stash yarn. For Sawyer's version, I didn't have enough of any colour yarn to use for the background colour of this sweater, but I had some DK yarns that would work for almost all the contrast colours. I made a sampler of wine, sage green, heather green, dark green, and cream yarns and took it with me when I went to Romni Wools to look for a coordinating main colour and one of the contrast colours. I purchased 200 grams of Wendy With Wool DK in Biscuit and 100 grams of Drops Karisma in Orange (or what I would describe as a rust). 

 

 

 

 

The completed pullover in a size 4. It's not bad. I had to get creative with the contrast colours and use more of them than the pattern called for in order to be able to finish the sweater with the yarn I had, which affected the cohesion of the total look more than I liked.

 

 

 

I bought a toy truck from Dollarama to complete the gift, figuring that a boy of two months shy of four was not going to be too interested in a new sweater, and Sawyer has been obsessed with vehicles and tools since before he could walk. 

All the interactions I had with Sawyer on Christmas Day 2025 were vehicle-themed, because Sawyer ignores everything else as irrelevant. When he was playing with the train set my sister-in-law had set up to run around the Christmas tree, I said to him, "The train is going to run over your toes and cut them off, Sawyer," and nudged his foot off the track with one of mine. He took that as his cue to repeatedly and joyously kick me in the leg, which as I told him, was not a nice way to treat his aged and decrepit great-aunt. 

At any rate, I could be sure the truck would be well-received. And it was. When Sawyer unwrapped his gift, he wasn't able to open the box the truck came in by himself, and so took the two items over to his father, my nephew Luke. So far as I can recall, the conversation went as follows. 

Luke: Oh, you got a crane truck. And a nice warm sweater. Here, put on the sweater.

Sawyer: Can you open the box?

Luke: Put on the sweater!

Sawyer: No.

Luke: Put on the sweater and I'll open the box for you.

Sawyer: [puts on the sweater] 

Sawyer didn't wear his pullover for more than five or six minutes, but he was not to blame for that. The house was warm and he was running around so much that he must have found it too hot. I did get to see him wear the sweater for those few minutes, and it fit well and really suited his colouring of brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and fair skin. 

I'll have to be sure to select a vehicle-themed design for Sawyer's Christmas 2026 gift. He might be able to open his own toy boxes by next year, and then what leverage will his father have for getting Sawyer to wear his sweater?