Knitting Selbu Norwegian mittens for Norway House exhibit

In the summer of 2021, through a group of neighborhood knitters I know, I was asked if I wanted to knit a Norwegian (Selbu) mitten for an exhibit along with others from the group. The mitten patterns came from the book "Mittens from Around Norway" by Nina Granlund Saether and would be part of an exhibit at Norway House later that year.. Scandinavian knitting was one of the styles that I had not attempted much in my knitting career. I had knit mittens from "The Swedish Mitten Book" by I. and I. Gottfridsson and also from Lizbeth Upitis' "Latvian Mittens." Now, I really wanted to try Norwegian mittens, a style on my bucket list of knitting styles, so I signed on to the project. I chose a typical black and white Selbu pattern from the book.

A note about Norway House, the organization creating and planning the exhibit. It is a Minnesota business and cultural organization that encourages and supports connections between Norway and the U.S. This cultural organization exists because about 16.5 of Minnesota's population claims Norwegian ancestry (2009 data, Wikipedia) The exhibit of the mittens from Saether's book, which would all be knit by local knitters, was planned for sometime in 2021, or 2022, as it turned out.

I received the pattern and wool in May, 2021 with a deadline of August. The wool, Rauma Finullgarn, is produced in northern Norway.

Norwegian Wool

 

The pattern I knit is called "Selbu Mittens with a Flower Border," page 132 of the book. It calls for a gauge of 7 sts to the inch and I used size 2 dp (U.S.) needles to get that gauge. After I received the pattern and the yarn, I got busy right away, not knowing how long these mittens would take.

A Glitch in Chart 1

There's nothing that throws a knitter more than a mistake in the pattern. "Blind knitters," an Elizabeth Zimmerman expression, expect to follow the pattern without any problems. This pattern begins with the cuff, which is folded under and stitched down to create a double layer of warmth at the wrist. However, when I got to the first pattern row on Chart 1 of this pattern, I was short one stitch. After tearing back and reknitting rows, I had to consider a mistake in the pattern, so I counted the repeats and the stitches in the chart. I even asked a fellow knitter to check the pattern. Sure enough, a 4-stitch pattern that repeats 18 times would add up to 72 stitches. However, there are only 71 stitches on Chart 1, so I would have to adjust to make the flower pattern work. Remember to question the pattern, trusting knitters!

After this little glitch, the rest of the pattern is accurate and the knitting progressed easily albeit slowly as I had to continue to check the pattern. After finishing the right-handed mitten, the pattern says to make a "mirror image" for the left mitten. At first, that might seem to be a confusing instruction, but it just means read the pattern from left to right (instead of right to left, as is normal).

Just the thumbs left!

I finished the hands of both mittens and only had to cast on for the thumb of each and complete those patterns at the same time. There is a contrasting pattern on the palm side of the mitten. The mittens were done well before the August deadline, which was later extended to November as the exhibit was moved to the winter with an opening date of January 22nd, 2022.

Strikkekos

The website for Norway House refers to this Norwegian mitten exhibit using the Norwegian term "strikkekos." This translates to "the feeling of coziness and conviviality that comes with contented knitting. Also, the act itself." What a great word to summarize the contentment that knitters feel when working on a project. German has a term "strickfreude", but I think "strikkekos" sums up my experience knitting these lovely mittens just perfectly.

The Temperature Scarf

The beginning of 2021--with the shadow of Covid still hanging over us--some neighborhood knitters put forward the idea of knitting a temperature blanket. This would give us a daily knitting goal when life's goals were focused primarily on staying well. It would also create a lasting memory of this year that would be a kind of knitted history. In fact, I dreaded the forced isolation of Covid and winter together, so signed on to knit a temperature project of some sort to motivate my daily knitting.

Much conversation was given over to this project--whether a blanket, scarf, shawl or whatever. Should it be only highs or both highs and lows? Should you indicate the days, weeks or months? How about precipitation? Barometric pressure? How many rows? colors? patterns? Everyone came up with a different alternative for noting the temperature of the 365 long days of 2021.

Knit a temperature scarf! That was my choice. The blanket-sized project seemed too big and would require too much yarn. The scarf, however, would be doable if very long...365 x 2 (down and back for a row) or 730 total rows. I planned to use leftover Britannia Shetland wool from ages ago and Felted Tweed by Rowan with some other yarns of similar weight and appropriate colors. Also, I chose just to indicate high temperatures and used a zig-zag pattern to indicate the ups and downs of temperatures in Minnesota. I inserted a black row between every week. I had no idea at the time how far up the summer would go or how far down the temps in February.

Off I started! I noted the day and checked the temperature and chose my colors. January was a decently moderate month for winter in Minnesota with temps in the 20s and 30s Fahrenheit.

February would show up with 10 days of the darker, more frigid side of Minnesota staying mostly in the single digits or below zero temperatures. From the 5th to the 15th, we ranged between -3 to 6 for the highs. I had no nice blues or purples so opted for gray and dark gray. These colors seemed appropriate for the mood of biting cold.

                        

Soon, winter gave over to spring, and that brought a change in hues from blue and gray to greens. That spring Easter was April 4th and it was a lovely, warm day of  77 degrees. Easter Monday was 83! You can see these are knit in bright red--a spring miracle, indeed!

                      

It was a long, hot summer. On June 1st, summer showed up with a vengeance when it hit 80 degrees. Days of 80s and 90s are knit in yellow, red and hot pink and account for much of the summer temperatures up until September 19th! There were a few days in the 70s, which are the greens.

             

In its turn, autumn arrived with a somewhat subdued color spectrum due to the very hot, dry summer.

                

After a year long endeavor, I ask myself why I did I do this? I have created an extremely long scarf that is not really useable in its current form.  Many yarn ends also remain to be woven in...a project for 2022, I guess! Maybe it could be converted to a body wrap, as a FB friend suggested, or a poncho or shawl? 

My takeaways from this knitting challenge were threefold: 1) I can follow through on a project for an entire year! 2) Every day is a link in the chain of experience and all are equally valuable. 3) The year 2021 had its ups and downs, hot and dry periods, and the Minnesota extremes, a year like most.

Update the Look of the Traditional HBC Blanket with Bold New Colors

That iconic blanket, the Hudson Bay Company's Point Blanket, or Trapper blanket, with its green, red, yellow and dark blue stripes on a off-white background, is an iconic image in the history of trading posts in North America. The blankets first appeared in Canada in the 1700s and were very popular with uses as bedding, a kind of currency and robes. 

Sadly, rumors about the use of bedding to spread smallpox to indigenous populations created a dark side to the HBC blanket. Although research has not conclusively linked the blanket to this practice, the shadow of these rumors falls over all blankets and bedding traded during that time, especially in Canada.

As the picture shows, the look of the wool blanket is very appealing with its clean, bold stripes standing out from the off-white background. 

Now you can create a version of this blanket with traditional or 21st century colors. The blanket can be easily knit or crocheted. The pattern given is for knitting the blanket in garter stitch.

I was interested in updating this look with a new color scheme. I chose to use a gray background with off-white, yellow, red and blue stripes to give it a fresh new look.

The dimensions of this blanket or throw is 31" x 31". It was knit out of Berroco Vintage Chunky wool on size 10 (US) round needles. The main color choice was smoke gray (6106) and the contrasting stripes were mochi/off-white (6101), Kingfisher blue (6158), orange (6140) and Sunny/yellow (6121). 

The directions are as follows:

Cast on 118 stitches

Hint on row edge: Slip the first stitch knit-wise at the beginning of EVERY row for an edge with a tighter bump, or slip purl-wise WTYF (with the yard in front) for smooth edge.

Knit all the rows as follows:

Knit rows 1-20 in grey. Knit every row ending on a wrong side row. 

Knit next 10 rows in off-white.

Knit next 10 rows in gray.

Knit next 10 rows in mustard yellow.

Knit next 10 rows in gray.

Knit next 10 rows in orange.

Knit next 10 rows in gray.

Knit next 10 rows in blue.

Knit next 40 rows in gray (middle of blanket.

Reverse these rows to finish the blanket.

When buying wool, you will need at least two skeins for each contrasting color and five to six of the main gray color. If you want to make it larger or smaller, adjust the amount of wool accordingly.

Enjoy this project!

On the Edge in the Co-op

Edginess, here meaning offbeat or fringe, is a trait I admire.  Without people who think differently or perceive things in a different way, or in a 21st Century term, "outside the box," innovation would die. Where would we be without those thinkers who were seen as "out of the mainstream", like Albert Einstein and Charles Darwin or Florence Nightingale and Susan B. Anthony?

Take the modern cooperative--started in the 1970s--as an example of an edgy idea. A cooperative

Co-op Ideals

initially organized to get better prices on bulk items (flour, oats, etc.) for its members, which could be anyone, and any surplus was turned back to the members. These still are part of the modern cooperative, but the 21st Century cooperative now goes well beyond the basic ideas of banding together for better prices to include supporting organic farmers, beef farmers who feed their herds grass, sustainable fisheries, local entrepreneurs, and more.

When I first joined the Lakewinds co-op in 1990, I was one of the first 1500 members. In an area of tens of thousands of people, only 1500 had chosen to support the future of food--'clean' food unrelated to the greater "food industry." I cut cheese, re-filled bulk containers, swept floors, washed containers, and watched as more and more people rejected the American food industry and embraced the co-cop ideal.  Now, there are tens of thousands of members in the co-op system and Lakewinds has three different stores.

The 'edge' is also an important concept when shopping. At the co-op the other day--a store that I visit all too frequently--I realized why I like its small size and compactness so much: it's mostly an "edge" store. 

Co-op Foods

What's that you ask.  If you think about the layout of the typical American grocery store, the edge consists of produce, meat, dairy, bakery, bulk area, and maybe a deli or frozen food area. That's really all you need.

What comes in between those edges are freezers and aisles of boxes, bags and cans of, mostly, things we don't need and could easily do without.  Okay, maybe some cleaning products are useful, or olive oil.  But you see what I mean.  The edge is essential.  The middle of the store is mostly superfluous.

So hence the word "edgy" takes on another meaning when it comes to food and shopping.  I like to eat "edgy", to coin a phrase.

Whether in ideas, shopping or people, the edge may be what we need the most.

The Gifts of the Cold

The winter cold surrounds us and leaks in through the key holes and cracks in the window frames. Embrace the cold and consider its many gifts. Cold has cleansing power and opportunities for renewal. You know the crispness of air so cold that it stings--it brings a sense of raw purity.  

Cold lets you be. When my international students ask me what to do in the winter, I quickly present a list of outdoor activities from skating to snow-shoeing. But in the blessed sub-zero cold, you have to stop much doing and focus on just being. Enjoy the gift of limited choices and quiet periods the cold presents you. 

Cold brings us clarity. We respect the cold. During long periods at home, matters are clearly defined.  Is there enough food for another day? Will the car start? Are the pipes frozen? Should I bring in more wood for the fire? Have I fed the birds and deer who gather around my bird feeder? Do I have a good book and my knitting? Am I wearing wool socks? Beyond these considerations, life waits for spring.

Cold encourages you to seek heat. Consider that deer sleep in the day in a sunny spot and move more at night. Their metabolism slows to maintain heat. So we gather around the fire or find a sun-filled corner to restfully soak in the heat of the sun.

Cold created introverts. The cold of winter requires you to retreat indoors, and the long nights of winter propel you further inward. These long periods with only a family member or two, a pet, or maybe no one for company create the perfect climate for losing yourself in yourself.  Those from northern climes guard their emotions and speech while those from warmer, southern climates effuse about life. The cold shaped those self-sufficient northern personalities who depend on the isolation of the winter to recharge. 

A Russian friend of mine told about her friend who walks no matter the cold temperatures or wind chill. To her, there is no such thing as cold weather—only bad clothes. Similarly, to me, cold brings no hardship--only gifts of peace, clarity and renewal. Embrace the opportunity to hug the fire and your loved ones. Let the rays of the winter sun lull you to sleep in quiet revelry.

Lemoncello Almonds

Now, I've lived a number of years, maybe not all in the greatest culinary awareness, but the last 30 years or so, however, I've lived in a major metropolitan area in the United States, so I've had access to a great variety of ethnic groceries and specialty food shops.  I've also had a chance to travel to many countries, including Austria, Turkey, Egypt, South Africa, to name a few.  In that time, I've had a chance to sample a lot of food, main dishes, appetizers, salads, desserts, you name it.  I'm not one to shy away from trying out something new (unless it has been preserved longer than I've had my last toothbrush.)

Anyway, after all these years, imagine my great surprise that I have discovered a confection that ranks as my new #1 sweet sensation.  They are lemon confectionary almonds called "Lemoncello Almonds," and, to put it mildly, they are delicious.  The package describes the candy as "roasted almonds covered in white chocolate and lemon cream."  That's indeed how they taste. I found these in a modest little grocery near my home in a small display--not a specialty grocery or even a candy shop.

The makers of these lemony, white chocolate-covered almonds, the Sconza family of Italian descent, write a bit about their history.  The package explains, "Inspired by the fragrant lemon groves of Sorrento, Italy, the third generation of the Sconza family created this unique and delicious Lemoncello confection to celebrate the 50th wedding anniversary of their parnets, Jim and Carolyn. Our family promise to you has been the same since 1939, when Vincenzo made the first piece of candy in his kitchen."

Well, imagine that, 1939 and I just discovered them in 2014!  All those years wasted!  Well, at least I found them.  Hats off to Vincenzo who began a wonderful tradition.  I'm anxious to visit Sorrento and inhale some of that lemon aroma wafting through the groves! 

Honestly, this candy is just the right amount of almond, lemon and white chocolate.  If you've given up sugar, reconsider that decision, at least for one package of these.

Warning:  Don't open the package until you are ready to eat them ALL!
Buon appetito!

The Edge

At the co-op the other day, I realized why I like its small size and compactness so much: it's mostly an "edge" store.  Okay. What's that you ask.  If you think about the layout of the typical American grocery store, the edge consists of produce, meat, dairy, bakery, bulk (if it's a co-op) and maybe a deli or frozen food area.  That's really all you need.  What comes in between those edges are aisles and aisles of boxes, bags and cans of, mostly, things we don't need and could easily do without.  Okay, maybe some cleaning products are useful, or olive oil.  But you see what I mean.  The edge is essential.  The middle of the store is mostly superfluous.  So hence the word "edgy" takes on a whole new meaning when it comes to food and shopping.  I like to eat "edgy", to coin a phrase.