Genevieve's Journeys

Continuing to chug along at parkruns. New PB, though my legs ached ferociously on Sunday.

I may change my 'home' base to the run I've done the most, as it's a much nicer park to run around than the first one I attended.

North London is hilly; there's nowhere in a park that's going to offer 5k flat running. I might as well choose the one that's most attractive.

Yesterday and today a heron visited the pond in my workplace's courtyard.

You have to look closely, for the one on the left; the one on the right is a plastic decoy...but to attract or deter more herons isn't clear.

And yes, we have a cheesy gnome with a fishing line. So sue us.




On my lunchtime run I saw a heron in the stream in the park, and since it's just a short flap for a heron from courtyard to stream I'm guessing it's the same one.

Is is avian-ist to say that all herons look alike to me?

In the 'Drachenwald first-world problems' category:

I'm finally making myself new veils, to replace the ones I felt terribly under-dressed in at Double Wars. I've wanted both new flat veils and ruffled ones for ages, plus a Birgitta cap (minus the fiddly-but-functional midline needlework).

My barrier to improving my veils wasn't materials, it was instructions.

Only in Drachenwald can all the instructions on making ruffled veils I can find be in languages I don't speak...til I asked Mistress Lia for her top source, and she pointed me at this lady's excellent photos (sorry they're in FB).

So I have new flat veils for the weekend, plus several miles of ruffle for sewing in the vehicle...plus knitting.

Robert is away this week on work travel, and I thought I'd be pining.

Instead I've been (you guessed it) flat out at work, and while I'm eating fewer hot cooked meals, I'm more than halfway through my spinsterhood almost before realising it.

I'm not as restless on my own (well, as the only human in the house) as I'd feared, though probably mostly from near exhaustion from the office.

Filled last weekend and will fill this coming one with sewing (for fun, new 1940s outfit for goncalves and J's wedding), knitting, painting a glass for a friend, and a scroll. Starting the scroll, sometime Real Soon Now.

Would love to get back to the spinning I started at Raglan but it will have to keep til the current projects are finished.

Also got my twice annual haircut. I opted for a 'middy' cut, which is a 'vintage' cut that takes well to pincurls and 1940s styling, to match the wedding outfit, but is perfectly passable simply combed and blown dry.

My first pincurl set (amazing what people put on YouTube! this lady's tutorial was excellent) worked beautifully; this is easy, why would anyone buy rollers or a curling iron?? geez this is a snap. Don't know what the fuss is about.

My second pincurl set: not so much. :-/

My third: pretty good, but doesn't cope well with damp. Good thing it's not very damp in London, right?...hmmm.

So I'm pleased I have new girly skills to add to my personal roster of eclectic bumf I know how to do, but unlikely to start sleeping in bobby-pinned curls nightly anytime soon.

All of a sudden now I know why wash 'n go hairstyles seemed so amazing when they became popular; women no longer had to plan their evenings and mornings, social lives, their activities, around their hair.

A lunchtime run or gym session, and high-maintenance hair, are pretty much mutually exclusive AFAICS.

'Staying home to wash my hair' doesn't sound as dumb, when you realise that was the convention, pre Vidal Sassoon.

One nifty aspect of London life: all the London hairdressers I can remember have been to Vidal Sassoon's school, and I haven't had a dud yet. They all have done lovely work, and each one has taught me something about how to style my hair myself, so I could keep the look up. It's a step up from most of the stylists I knew in my first homeland.

Haggis is making the most of the tail end of long mild days, that are rapidly drawing down. I open the patio door most evenings, so she can come and go more freely than through the cat flap.

If it's open for an hour or so it insprires the scatties, where Haggis goes racing OUT into the garden, and then racing IN again, only to race OUT once more, chasing, or chased by, unseen threats to feline life. She can wear herself out doing this.

Last weekend I went for the first long slow run in awhile, taking in the park behind our place. It's huge, a wild meadow space where, aside from road noise, you could think yourself in the country. I've mapped out 4k routes and plan longer ones for fall and winter weekends, when daylight is short and long runs only happen on Sat or Sun.

I came back to the building to an astonishing amount of magpie swearing, cursing, nagging and threatening. And sure enough, Haggis was most of the way up one of the trees in the front yard, playing it cool, as if there were not half a dozen magpies blowing her cover, and giving her serious s**t for encroaching on their airspace.

Oddly, when I called her most of them shut up, and she chatted to me; 'who, me? I'm just hangin' type remarks, not entirely accurate considering she was a) up quite a height and b) well into the neighbourhood tom's preferred space as well as the magpies'.

She's still being bullied by the local tom (former tom), but I thought her wander up the tree showed he's not in complete control of all the space on the site.

When it wasn't pouring down over Easter weekend, it was lovely.

And happily I spent one whole day, when it was beautiful out, in Wokingham with Earl Paul and Lady Anne. They'd made time for me in their weekend when I told them I was on my own at Easter while Robert was away slaying orcs.

I love visiting with them; we can putter together, browse through books, and they eat like kings (or like a lady and earl) all the time - it's not a special occasion, it's just how they choose to shop, cook and eat. I always feel spoiled when I'm at their house.

Their days are full of plans right now; they've found the perfect house, but in order to buy it they have to wait for the seller to find somewhere to move to - this is part of the Great English Tradition of House Buying: The Chain, whereby everyone is waiting for someone else's house buy to go through.

Their buyer is of course waiting on them in turn...

Oddly I never remember this happening in my first homeland. If you end up stuck with 2 houses because someone's deal falls through, tough - make an appointment with your bank. Sheesh.

So right now, the plans are still talk and paper ideas, for changes to the new place. But my goodness, if it goes through, it'll be glorious, glorious indeed.

At any rate - we breezed through Waitrose, their local library (a *really* nice one - a reflection of the neighbourhood I think) and then a cuppa before going for an Easter walk in what Anne called the bluebell wood.

I could see why: it was gloriously full of bluebells, just before their peak but still wonderfully blue-bell-ish, that not-quite-purple, not-quite-blue shade that defies paint chips.

We walked about for a couple of hours, chatting and taking the air. Other walkers and cyclists were out for the same reason.

Back to the house for a late lunch, and for Paul to put on a roast dinner while Anne and I sewed.

She's working full tilt on a new doublet for Paul - full Elizabethan with all the twiddles, with quilted lining and crazy trim plans. She was complaining she didn't have enough embroidery floss for the buttons because wood-core thread buttons just eat floss for breakfast.

I used the afternoon for UFOs.

I finished a couple of knitted 16th c hats - they're now fulled and their brims are as firm as they'll get.

Anne has asked me to make her one! so I'm pricing Shetland yarn towards making some 16th c flat caps and hats. I'll have to pay attention to the shrinkage and fulling, not just take my chances. You take pains for others you wouldn't bother with for yourself!

I also, rashly, offered to knit Paul a jumper; he complains he just can't find big colourful jumpers (aka sweaters) anymore. On the strength of this I've ordered a couple of (used) Kaffe Fassett books, for, ah, research purposes.

Ah, the 80s...

I don't expect to make one exactly as shown, but will bring them along and ask him if he has any preference, and exactly what his yarn budget is(!).

In the evening I also took apart one fabric hat that goes with my 16th c German gown, in the hopes of redoing it so it fits properly, with a brim that is firm but not rigid. I didn't have the heart to take it apart right after making it, even though it didn't fit, because I'd put so much work into it in the first place, and it's just sat there.

Frankly, knitting hats is waaaaaay easier - but I have to find the ideal Goldilocks brim solution for them. My cardboard seems either too soft or too hard.

Anne whipped up the gravy for the roast chicken, using some real verjuice we'd found in the market near our old place; real actual verjuice, from sour grapes, not crabapples. It made the most amazing gravy ever.

I slept like a rock. It was lovely.

The trip home was long - missed the right train, had to change, was delayed, people were jerks on the Tube. Fortunately I had a very attentive kitteh at the other end of the trip, or else I might not have left Wokingham.

This weekend I discovered that you can leave your hardening soap too long before cutting it into bars. 1-2 days is ideal. 7 days is too long.

So folks getting my 'squire' soap will have charming and rustic soap chunks, rather than bars.

However, the honey soap that didn't harden very well because the trapped moisture enclosed in the molds kept it 'damp' emerged on Sat, and firmed up enough overnight that I could cut it up fairly neatly for further curing in the cupboard.

SO: from this we learn that plastic drink bottles don't make good moulds and trap moisture.

I shall have to ask my friends to eat more Pringles, or other junk food that comes in convenient waxy cardboard tubes, and keep the tubes for me. Any volunteers?

Once Robert is finished patterning armour with Cate, we're away to grocery shop, where I'm hoping to buy lard towards trying lard-based soaps. They're likely accurate for northern European medieval period - Castile soap, made w/ olive oil, was apparently an imported luxury.

Everything I've tried so far has been veg-based, and I'd like to try something animal based.

Lard is cheap, and comes from the grocery store already refined so no rendering required. I want to try it in smaller batches, to experiment with additives I have - pumice for one (can use up at least a couple of spoonsful of my lifetime's supply!), oatmeal for another.

On the successes front: I sorted making 'Galen's cold cream', mostly as described in S Pointer's book about historic beauty. I swapped almond oil for olive, and this time I warmed the oils more, to bring them closer to the temp of the wax, and then poured the oil into the wax, rather than other way round, and mixed them while quite warm, still in the double-boiler (or for me, the mixing container sitting in a pan of hot water).

Previous efforts were hit-and-miss: I got one perfect result, and one lumpy one, and one I had to throw out last year. This year, I got one lumpy-but-useable (not as heated) and two very good ones, with the extra warming of the oil. So now I know: keep oil and wax closer in temp while mixing, and pour into containers before it sets firm. AND: I have the quantities written down.

I now have over a dozen small bottles of medieval-plausible cold cream as gifties.

Today I also made up the paste for 2nd part of making Spanish leather - scented squares of leather that you put in sachets. You soak squares of leather in a paste of oils til dry, then stick them together with the second scented paste. I've folded them up, and squished them between some books. (Instructions say 'press flat til dry': if only we had some heavy books in the house...)

They smell delightful to me, but I'm biased.

Yesterday evening, I pressed and sewed loads of teeny bags in linen for scented sachets, and sewed up some lined bags for decorative purses. I like sewing them entirely by hand, but life is a bit too short, when I also fingerbraid the edges, and make the braided purse strings, and the beaded tassles. Hopefully recipients can overlook the machine-sewn internal seams.

My osteo asked me if I was a 'listmaker' - one of 'those people who makes lists'.

I realised in answering him that I make lists for myself, for personal and medieval stuff, but don't really bother at work. Shows where my priorities lie - or else where I feel my time is most precious!

So it's Friday. and sure enough I'm listing what I want to do on the weekend.

There's an event ooop north, and Robert is attending so I have a bachelorette spinster weekend with the house to myself.

For some reason, calling it a 'spinster weekend' isn't nearly as attractive as a 'bachelor weekend'...

My hopes are to do some sewing that is not medieval (it's allowed, I checked the rules to make sure); some running; and some loafing.

My books are in, so I'm headed home today via the library. Loafing may start early.

AND: after yesterday's osteo appt, I felt like I'd been run over, for most of the day. But sometime towards the end of the day on my way home, I realised: I don't hurt.

My nagging back pain...is actually gone. Good lord.

The absence persisted through til today; it's beginning to niggle a bit but is nothing to what I consider normal.

Don't know how long it will last. 

Years ago I made a lovely Cranach gown (materials donated by thorngrove)  with an underdress, all assembled with Lady Anne of Wokyngham's patient help. (just ignore my expression - didn't know I looked so sour!) It was my first effort at mounting fabric on a backing and then sewing it, cartridge pleating, adding a lining to the skirt hem only (to add weight for a better drape, and to resist fraying)...whole sets of skills I'd never known of.

After several years service, the canvas support of the bodice has shrunk inside the fabric (not prewashed to same extent as gown fabric). It had pulled away from the seams, so it's not giving the same shape as before.

I've held off making it new, because it has two side seams, that need dozens of lacing holes. My favourite....not. I considered replacing only the lining, but it didn't really seem feasible with the wear on the outer fabric.

But I want it to wear at 20 year, so...

So over the long weekend I took it apart to remind myself the assembly, unpicked it from the skirt, and checked the size compared to the pattern from 5 years ago. Remarkably the outer fabric had hardly changed shape at all.

I now have some linen canvas so I used that to mount a new linen outer fabric, and a lightweight linen lining. It's coming together beautifully.

It's odd because my memory of making this gown was that it took ages and ages to make; combination of not knowing the process at all, and fitting, which takes awhile when you are working from scratch.

But making from a pattern - it's taken one afternoon and evening to cut and mount most of the pieces, put three pieces together and start adding the lining.

Old gown - supervised by Haggis




Old bodice: I can't seem to keep my gowns from wrinkling round the upper tum, but otherwise they fit very well.


Pieces cut from a cream linen and mounted on canvas. I couldn't find the same lovely twill linen as for  but this is quite a nice weight. Middle piece looks a bit uneven - I left the selvedge in place.



Linen lining pinned in. There's no fabric lining the lacing placket so I only have 3 layers of fabric to put holes through...



Back piece, mounted and lining pinned in.



Note stray heraldic projects lying about - this is the latest round of our shire bunting in progress.

It's quite hard to take pictures in the house without some cat butt appearing.

Also evidence of gaming: noone tell the College of Heralds please.

Haggis put her paws at risk while helping me cut out hose... she was batting at the scissors as I cut.




Here she's helping Robert play Civ - she'd raced to his lap and leapt into place to plonk herself over his arm.







Here the mighty ham hunter tracks the movement of ham from the fridge to the chopping board.

Ham appears to be the path to Haggis' heart. She's interested in all our food, but ham gains the keenest appreciation and attention.

Robert had bought a 3kg section of cured ham, and we've been knawing it down over a couple of weeks, taking some of it to the Oxford scriptorium. Ever since, Haggis has been checking out the fridge at every opening.

Here she's keeping an eye on the cook as he chops up the last of it for stir fry.

...has figured out how to open the catflap from the outside, without it being propped open, just by pushing firmly at it. So half her training is complete - just have to work out the inside-heading-out step, without hooking the propped flap open.

This means we no longer have a wicked evil draft coming into the flat.

And next step is to fix the danged thing so only she gets let in, rather than her guests and suitors too.

(I'd note I never encountered catflaps before I moved to England - Canadians don't cut holes in their doors. Canadian cats ask to be let in and out...sometimes over and over again.)

On cheerier news - my patterns have arrived, all of them. I'm now awash in paper!

Can't wait til the weekend - I'm sick of work. this week, this whole month really.

I'm a longtime self-taught sempstress and have learned using measurements, and gradually moved on to fitted garments with cloth and paper blocks, with pretty good results.

I've used modern patterns a bit, for modern clothes and can follow pattern instructions.

I'm now tackling (or hoping to tackle, eventually) a couple of projects where I don't have much experienced - full hose, mens' doublets, Italian ladies' clothes - so I'm considering lashing out on patterns for guidance.

Does anyone have experience with these patterns? Are there any assumptions I should know about?

...for a given value of 'summer'. 

After a flying visit to my favourite fabric shop in Shepherd's Bush, I spent the weekend scribing (not enough), laundering said fabrics, and houseworking (too much for my taste). 

While puttering, I caught The Lavender Hill Mob  on TV, a classic Alec Guinness film that I'd never seen before. It was charming as much for its postwar London street scenes, with antique cars careening down streets almost free of traffic, as for the plot.

For pre-war views, I watched The King's Speech, something I missed in the theatres when it came out. Very worthwhile.

Aside from scribing, my accomplishment of the weekend was sewing spandex on my Pfaff for the first time.

My shiny-new running shorts bought this week are, in fact, Very Short - too short for my taste and, uuuh, comfort. Apparently the cut of 'tight' running shorts for women has changed since I last shopped for such items - shorter legs, and icky low waist to boot.

Rather than taking them back and hunting up alternate (more expensive) ones, I cut up a pair that are expiring, unpicked the hems, and sewed 3" more leg onto the new shorts, using an assortment of stitches that I never need for sewing medieval clothing.

My machine makes some rather alarming grinding noises when forced into the stretch-stitch range. I'm guessing that by using only straight stitch for the first 12 years, it's now set in its ways and objects vociferously at having to learn new tricks. 

Robert distinguished himself working on shields, both new and make-do-and-mend varieties.