Deadlines

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Hello! For today, my plan was to have the cardigan for our grandson finished and write about that, but as I’m writing this, the pieces are still drying on my blocking mats. In other words, I didn’t meet the deadline.

But hang on, who said I needed to meet a deadline? The word deadline popping up in my head made me stop dead in my tracks and set a whole train of thoughts in motion. It also brought back some unpleasant emotions that made me feel like withdrawing into a place like this…

… and spend lots of time on the bench opposite philosophizing about deadlines, getting things done and the meaning of life.

I photographed the house and the sculpture by Stephen Beale in the village of Houwerzijl. The sculpture is called Concrete Thoughts and is made from concrete and a patchwork of aluminium.

Back to deadlines. Why does the very word make me want to hide away? Well, for 30 years I worked as a non-fiction translator specializing in agriculture, sustainability, management and psychology. And whether I was asked to translate a grant proposal, a manual for a potato harvester, a research article or a self-help book, the contract always included a deadline.

For a long time I was fine with that. But over time the deadlines became non-negotiable and tighter and tighter, until they became totally unrealistic. When my work/life had become a race against the clock, I decided to quit.

No more deadlines EVER, I promised myself. Life is too short to let the seasons rush by without enjoying them. (It’s orchid season here now.)

One of the things I wanted time for was creativity and making things. I am fortunate enough to now have an undemanding job as a web editor. And with no children at home and no aging parents to care for anymore, time is not really an issue. But how to get things done without outside pressure and deadlines? I have given myself one deadline – publishing a blog post on Fridays. It’s a helpful deadline, that gives me courage and helps me overcome perfectionism, but it’s the only deadline I’m willing to impose on myself.

Some projects come with their own deadlines, like gifts that need to be finished before a birthday, or a child’s cardi that needs to be finished before it is outgrown. Writing this, I’m beginning to see that it’s especially creative things I would like to do just for my own fulfilment that I’m struggling with.

For instance, I have been working on a new shawl design for a long time, planning to publish it in January or February. But first I got side-tracked, and then kept knitting more and more swatches to tweak just one last thing.

At this rate I may be ready to publish this pattern for a nice warm shawl in July or August. Or November. Or never. Does that matter? In the grand scheme of things not in the least. But to me it does.

Having always been driven by deadlines, I am wondering about a more gentle way of getting things done. I do love making things, and there are many creative ideas I’d love to pursue, but somehow I don’t get round to them or I don’t finish them. Apparently love is not always enough. Do you struggle with this, too? Or do you find it easy to take time to just be creative? Do you ever set yourself deadlines? Do you have other strategies? Or are you fine with not finishing things?

I have no idea whether this is an issue for others, too. Anyway, thank you for reading this long and personal post!

Mini-Springwatch

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Hello!

One of the projects on my needles at the moment is a cable cardigan for our grandson. In the evenings while I’m watching BBC’s Springwatch and my mind is far away in the British countryside, my hands stay at home knitting. It doesn’t look like much yet, but my swatch tells me that it should be all right after blocking.

For anyone who doesn’t know it – Springwatch is a programme about the natural world in the UK that is broadcast for 3 weeks every spring. With a crew of about 100 and some 50 wildlife cameras, it’s a huge thing.

As I’m enjoying the programme so much, and there is not a lot to talk about on the knitting front, I thought it might be fun to do a Dutch Springwatch episode today. First let me introduce you to some of the crew members.

Just kidding! This is an unknown passer-by carrying an impressive camera on a tripod. The entire crew is just me, with my simple little point-and-shoot camera. My husband is here, too, but he only brought his binoculars.

So, a Dutch mini-Springwatch, but where are we? Well, we’re in the Lauwersmeer National Park in the far north of the country, about 200 kilometers north-east from Amsterdam. It is a former bay that was closed off from the sea by a dam in 1969 to protect the surrounding area from floods.

The former seabed we’re walking on is extremely flat. It’s quiet and peaceful here in this beautiful open landscape that is so important for birds and biodiversity. We’re following narrow tracks and wider grassy paths.

Here and there they lead us along the water’s edge.

The extensive reed beds are still covered in last year’s yellow-grey dead reed stalks. They’ll be green with fresh reeds a little later in the year. Although we can’t see them, we can hear the reed and sedge warblers warbling away.

The hawthorn, called meidoorn (Maythorn) here, is in full bloom and buzzing with insects.

Under one hawthorn tree, there is a bench – the perfect spot for lunch. We’re looking out over a small harbour, with cow parsley in front and a few black-and-white cows in the distance.

While we’re munching our sandwiches, there’s a sudden blue flash – a kingfisher. And while a hen harrier is harrying a goose with goslings, a bittern comes flying by. This truly is a birder’s paradise, but you’ll have to take my word for it. My camera and I weren’t up to capturing any of the birds on photo. At least these mooring posts stayed put long enough for me to take a picture.

On the way back, we meet a herd of Konik horses. Without their grazing, the open areas would turn into woodland in just a few years’ time.

Shhh, they have foals and mustn’t be disturbed…

Bye for now, and I hope to see you again next week. xxx

Linea Socks

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Hello!

While I’ve been out and about quite a bit over the past few weeks and had to squeeze in some work, too, there was also plenty of time for knitting. One project that has recently slid off my needles is a pair of Linea Socks. It’s the second pair I’ve made from that beautiful book 52 Weeks of Socks.

This design, by Finnish designer Minna Sorvala, has diamonds on the top of feet and legs, flanked by columns of twisted stitches and small honeycomb cables.

I felt rather daunted at the start, but knitting four rows here, six rows there and just following the clear instructions and the chart the socks grew more quickly than I expected. While knitting, I took some photos of interesting details, hoping my pictures and notes will be of use to anyone else who’d like to make the same socks.

The Linea Socks are knit from the toe up and have a fairly blunt toe. Using a circular needle, I cast on with Judy’s magic cast-on. (There are many videos explaining this technique clearly, like this one.)

These are socks with a gusset, which imho makes for a much better fit than gusset-less socks. In the pattern, the increases for the gusset are made between the top and bottom needles. At first, I followed the pattern, but got holes.

This was not what I was looking for, so I ripped back a few rows and made the increases one stitch from the sides. Much better.

The heels of the socks are reinforced using a pattern of slip stitches. I hope you can see it in the photo below.

To bind off, I used Jeny’s Surprisingly Stretchy Bind-Off. (For a long time I called it Jenny’s bind-off, but it really is Jeny with one n – a good video here). How wonderful to be immortalized like Judy or Jeny for inventing a clever knitting technique! Unstretched, this stretchy bind-off is zigzaggy along the ribbing at the top.

Stretched when worn, it looks neat and feels comfortable.

And here they are all finished – my Linea Socks.

There is one tiny error in chart B, for the back of the leg. The second stitch from the left should be knit through the back of the loop, instead of worked like an ordinary knit stitch. For the rest, the pattern is very clear and the Linea Socks were a joy to knit.

These socks remind me of a series of funny old cartoons – La Linea. It’s amazing how much can be done with one simple line. It’s just like knitting, really – one thread, endless possibilities.

Joure Wool Festival 2023

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Hello!

Last Saturday the annual wool festival Joure onder de Wol was held again. For me it is close to home, but it is so varied and inspiring that people from all over the country come flocking to it. Arriving before the actual festival started, I first paid a quick visit to the local yarn shop for some yarn for a soft toy for our grandson (more about that in another post). Draped over the back of the bench next to the entrance was a dazzling crochet blanket.

So not my taste, and yet I was fascinated by it. The techniques used are interesting and the choice of colours is also well-balanced. I wonder why crocheters often seem to have such different tastes from knitters?

Leaving the shop, my phone made that owly who-oh sound telling me that there was a message. It was the friend I was meeting up with, ‘Where are you? I’m with the sheep’. Typing ‘I’m coming!’ I hurried towards her. The sheep shearing was already in full spate.

Some sheep had already lost their coats, while others were still wearing theirs. Looking closely at the photo below, perhaps you can see the woman on the left, wearing a straw hat, pointing her finger. She is pointing out which fleeces she wants, and then the hectic catch-me-if-you-can between sheep and shepherd starts.

It’s fun to watch, although I feel a little sorry for the sheep, too. Being undressed in front of a large audience doesn’t seem like much fun to me. The next sheep waiting its turn doesn’t look unduly stressed, though.

Next, it was time to look at all the other woolly things. There was so much to see that I hardly know where to start. I’ll just pick out a few highlights. First of all there was wool – raw fleeces from many different sheep breeds…

… washed, carded and dyed rovings…

… and yarn, yarn, beautiful yarn – much of it hand-dyed, sometimes using natural dyes (click on images to enlarge).

And then there were the things people had made with wool and yarn. Again, I’m just showing a few of the highlights.

There was needle binding. Although, as with the crochet blanket, the maker had a very different taste from mine I could see the beauty and possibilities in the technique he was using.

There were felted items, both needle and wet felting. Simple yet beautiful objects, like this wild and woolly nest with eggs:

And stunning felted ‘paintings’ of the northern Frisian coastal landscape. The photographs don’t really do them justice, but I hope you can see why they blew me away (again, click to enlarge).

A beautiful woven blanket also drew my eye. Weaving isn’t really my thing, but I’d like to give making small squares using one of these hand looms a try someday.

And then there were many people who’d brought their spinning wheels. I could write an entire post about those alone, but I’ll end with just one picture – a young teenager (I promised not to show her face) spinning the most beautiful coloured thread from local wool on an e-spinner – a lovely sight to see. Young people like her make me feel hopeful about the future.

I feel immensely inspired by this day at the Joure Wool Festival and hope you’ve enjoyed it, too.

The festival website can be found here, and a list of participants here.

Unwinding

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Hello there! Here, in the Netherlands, many people take some time off work in the last week of April and the first week of May. With most schools closed, King’s Day on April 27th and Liberation Day on May 5th, it is a time for going to festivals or travelling. While everybody seemed to be having a great time, I was feeling grumpy. Like, everybody is having fun but me. Was I envious?

Well, yes and no. When I saw the crowds in the cities and at the airport on tv, I was happy I wasn’t among them. I didn’t mind missing out on the big events and didn’t particularly want to travel either. What I did want was some time to unwind, though. Only on a much smaller scale. So that’s what I’ve been doing over the past couple of weeks, and I’d like to share some of it with you.

One thing I’ve been doing is literally unwinding and re-winding yarn using my nøstepinne.

It’s a totally unnecessary thing to do, but for me very relaxing. Seeing a mini-skein or an unattractive looking leftover bit of sock yarn transform into a perfect little ball with a hole in the middle is just so satisfying.

Going for a walk or cycling are other great ways for me to unwind. (Thank you for joining me on last week’s wood anemone walk – I really appreciate your comments. Knowing that you are there and enjoy some of the same things inspires me to keep blogging.) We are very fortunate in where we live. Hopping onto my bicycle, I’m here in three minutes:

And even closer to home, I’ve been pottering around the garden, doing some weeding and taking a few photographs. In our herb patch, I found a blackbird’s egg – unfortunately not hatched.

(We’ve also found shells of eggs that did hatch, so not to worry.) Looking at flowers through the lens of my camera, I forget everything else.

Most of the things I did to unwind were close to home (or even at home) and took just a few minutes to an hour at most. But we also took an entire day off to visit a fair at Middachten Castle.

My husband lived close to the castle as a child and our daughter lived almost next-door for several years, so it feels a bit like home to us. Although it is a beautiful place, I’m glad it isn’t really our home, to be honest. I’d feel totally lost in a big place like this, and think of all the work involved! The house and gardens are closed until June, but just looking at them from the outside was still enjoyable.

The fair we’d come for was rather disappointing. I’d hoped to be able to buy a few gifts at the stalls, but didn’t see anything special. Apart from some spectacular bulbs of different varieties of garlic, that is.

But a bunch of garlic as a gift for a 20-year-old niece? Not, not quite what I was looking for. Fortunately we had enough time left to visit a few shops in nearby Zutphen. Ah, it’s such a lovely city – I’ll take you there for a longer visit again some other time. (An earlier post about it can be read here.)

I also spent quite a bit of time unwinding with my Seventh Heaven Scarf. It’s growing much faster than I thought. After the greens, I’m now deep into the blues (literally – after all the unwinding any figurative blues have lifted), knitting up some of my small nøstepinne-wound balls of yarn.

Well, that’s it for today. I hope you can find some time to unwind in your days, too, and hope to see you again next week!

Wood Anemone Walk

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There is a place, not far from here, where it is as if time has stood still. It is particularly lovely in spring, when the wood anemones are flowering. With two families quibbling over ownership of the estate for a long time in the Middle Ages, and a beautiful house with stepped gables that was later demolished, it has an interesting history, too.

But let’s not talk about that or anything else today. Let’s just go for a walk and enjoy the beauty of this special place and the peace that now reigns here.

Thank you for walking along with me. I hope to be back next week with a more chatty post. See you then!

Seventh Heaven Scarf

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Hello!

First of all, thank you to those of you who suggested better names for my Simple Sock Scrap Stripe and Slip Stitch Scarf – great suggestions, all of them!

When deciding on a name for a knitting pattern, besides choosing something I like, it’s also about how findable it is on Ravelry. Taking everything into consideration, I’ve decided to go with Lynn’s idea and call it Seventh Heaven Scarf. Thank you, Lynn! It’s not just great because of its reference to the seven Ss in the original name, but also because for me, playing with yarn and colours is one of the fastest routes to seventh heaven!

In case you’d like to knit something like my Seventh Heaven Scarf, too, I’ll give you the preliminary pattern here. It’s going to be a fairly large rectangular scarf in garter stitch and slip stitch stripes (but it can be made in any size). This is what mine looks like so far:

Measurements
I’m aiming for a width of approximately 45 cm/18” and a length of 1.80 m/71” or a little longer.

Yarn
Main colour (MC): 220 g of fingering-weight/sock yarn in a very dark or very light (semi) solid colour. I’m using 5 skeins of Isager Sock Yarn (50 g/193 m; 40% alpaca, 40% merino, 20% nylon) in colour 100 Navy blue.
Contrast colour (CC): 220 g of fingering-weigh/sock yarn remnants (+ some extra just in case). Anything will work: solids, semi-solids, variegated and/or self-striping yarns.
(These are estimated quantities. The actual scarf may take a little more or less yarn.)

For my scarf I’ve chosen 22 different yarn remnants of at least 10 grams each. They include: Lana Grossa Meilenweit, Regia 4-ply, Schoppel Crazy Zauberball, various hand-dyed yarns from indie dyers, Drops Fabel, Zitron Trekking XXL and other yarns that have lost their labels.

To remind myself of the order I’m planning to use my CC yarns in, I’ve split them up into 3 smaller groups, photographed them and put each group in a separate plastic bag.

Needles and Gauge
Knitting needles: 3.5 mm/US 4 (For socks I’d use 2.5 mm/US 1.5 needles for these yarns, but for a drapier scarf I’ve gone up several needle sizes.)
Gauge: 23 sts x 50 rows = 10 x 10 cm/4 x 4” in stripe pattern.

Pattern notes:

  • The scarf has 3-stitch I-cord edges (photo below). The first 3 sts of every right-side row are knit in the colour of the previous row.
  • When changing colours after the 3 edge stitches on right-side rows, always pass the ‘new’ yarn in front of the ‘old’ yarn.
  • The scarf can be made in any size or yarn weight you like. Decide on the measurements you’d like, knit a generous swatch, and then weigh and measure it. Based on this swatch, calculate how much yarn you’re going to need and how many stitches you need to cast on. The instructions below are for my size.
  • Always cast on an odd number of stitches.
  • Work the same number of rows with every remnant or vary the number of rows.
  • For a smoother transition from one CC yarn to the next, switch to a new CC yarn on a wrong-side A, C or D row (see below).
  • All slip stitches are slipped as if to purl (i.e. inserting the needle from right to left), sometimes with the yarn held in front (wyif), sometimes with the yarn held in back (wyib). Sl1 = Slip 1 stitch; Sl3 = Slip 3 stitches, Sl4 = Slip 4 stitches.

ABCD stripes
Basically, the scarf is composed of 4 different pairs of rows – A, B, C and D:

A (CC garter ridge):
Row 1 (RS): With MC knit 3 sts, switch to CC and knit to end.
Row 2 (WS) (CC): Sl3 wyif, k to last 3 sts, sl3 wyif.

B (MC garter ridge):
Row 1 (RS): With CC knit 3 sts, switch to MC and knit to end.
Row 2 (WS) (MC): Sl3 wyif, k to last 3 sts, sl3 wyif.

C (CC slip stitch pattern starting with a k st):
Row 1 (RS): With MC knit 3 sts, switch to CC and (k1, sl1 wyib) to last 4 sts, k4.
Row 2 (WS) (CC):  Sl3 wyif, (k1, sl1 wyif) to last 4 sts, k1, sl3 wyif.

D (CC slip stitch pattern starting with a sl st):
Row 1 (RS): With MC knit 3 sts, switch to CC and (sl1 wyib, k1) to last 4 sts, sl1 wyib, k3.
Row 2 (WS) (CC):  Sl4 wyif, (k1, sl1 wyif) to last 5 sts, k1, sl4 wyif.

INSTRUCTIONS

Cast-on and set-up rows:
With MC cast on 111 sts.
Row 1 (RS): knit.
Row 2 (WS): sl3 wyif, k to last 3 sts, sl3 wyif.
Work rows 1 and 2 two more times.

Start working in stripe sequence:
(The swatch above shows one complete stripe sequence.)
Rows 1-20: Starting with A, work A and B five times in total (= 10 garter ridges alternating CC and MC).
Rows 21-22: C.
Rows 23-28: B, A, B.
Rows 29-30: D.
Rows 31-36: B, A, B.
Rows 37-38: C.
Rows 39-40: B.
Rows 41-60: Repeat rows 1-20.
Rows 61-72: C, B, D, B, C, B.
Repeat these 72 rows until you’ve almost reached the desired length.
Work 4 rows in MC in the same way as set-up rows 1-2. Bind-off loosely. Weave in ends, soak and block.

Knitting with all these bits of yarn in different colours is such fun. My first little ball was the yellow-green of the Euphorbias in our front garden. The second one is a variegated blue and green yarn:

It’s like fresh young hawthorn leaves against a blue sky.

I’m enjoying knitting up the greens and can’t wait to get to the heavenly blues and then the flowery purples, pinks and oranges.

Note: This is only a preliminary pattern – I’ll publish a complete downloadable pattern on Ravelry later, when my scarf is finished. I hope everything is clear so far. If you’re going to knit your own Seventh Heaven Scarf, have fun! For any questions, please leave a comment and I’ll try to answer asap.

Simple Sock Scrap Slip Stitch Scarf

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Hello!

Remember that I was looking for something simple to knit alongside more challenging projects? Simple stocking stitch socks are my usual mindless knitting projects, but variety being the spice of life, I want something different from time to time. Looking for inspiration and materials for a simple scarf, shawl or wrap in a yarn shop, I couldn’t find anything that spoke to me. And then it occurred to me that I already had most of the ingredients at home!

Through the years I’ve knit many, many pairs of simple socks for family members, friends and myself. From every pair of socks there is always a small quantity of yarn left over. I’ve used some of these to make Soothing Sachets, Gift Leaves and an earrings-and-pendant set. These small projects didn’t even make a dent in my sock yarn remnant stash, though, and I’ve still got more than enough for several larger projects.

I’d already been knitting some slip-stitch swatches and knit some more using sock yarns, using the simplest of slip stitch patterns combined with garter and stocking stitch. I experimented with many different edge stitches, too.

Something colourful would be fun, but it should also be wearable, so I decided to use a dark neutral as a backdrop for the remnants. Here is my final swatch, using a solid navy yarn combined with some yarn left over from the socks beside it – garter stitch stripes alternated with slip stitch rows:

My guess is that many of you also have a considerable quantity of leftover sock or other fingering weight yarn. Or perhaps you’ve taken out a mini-skein subscription or treated yourself to a mini-skein Advent Calendar and still have some of those lovely little skeins left? In case you’d like to use them for a scarf like mine I’ll describe how I’m going about it.

I’m going to knit a rectangular scarf measuring approximately 45 cm/18” wide by 1.80 m/71” long. Based on my swatches, this should take about 440 grams of sock yarn in total: 220 grams of the solid background colour and 220 grams of sock yarn remnants. I’m using five 50-gram skeins of Isager Sock Yarn in navy blue for my background colour.

Other dark neutrals that would make good background colours are black, charcoal, deep purple or dark brown. A light neutral, like cream, pale grey or light beige, would work well, too.

For the contrast colours, I chose 22 different sock yarn remnants of at least 10 g each (+ a few extra). I left the dark colours out (not enough contrast), and the very light ones as well (too much contrast). So they’re all in a medium shade range.

The remnants could be grabbed at random, eyes closed, but being an orderly sort of person I decided to arrange them into a sort of colour wash, from greens through blues, purples, pinks and finally oranges (read from right to left).

You could use a colour wheel, but I just followed my intuition, personal sense of colour, taste or whatever it’s called.

The colour I’m starting with, next to the navy blue, is a shocking acid green. It came with a mini-skein subscription years ago, and was dyed by Amanda Perkins of The Natural Dye Studio who stopped dyeing years ago. It isn’t a colour that I’d think I’d ever use. Confession: I did knit a scarf in neon green acrylic when I was ten. Since then my taste in colours has changed quite a bit, but I think/hope it will look fun in this scarf.

It’s the same colour as the Euphorbias flowering in our front garden now, that look so great with the blue of the grape hyacinths.

Some of the Euphorbias are entirely in this strange yellowish green colour,

while others have very dark aubergine, almost black centres.

I will give you the recipe for how to knit this scarf in my next blogpost. For the time being I’m calling it my Simple Sock Scrap Stripe and Slip Stitch Scarf, but it really needs a simpler name. Any suggestions are welcome!

A Fair and a Pair of Bootees

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Hello! I hope you don’t mind going on another little outing today. This time I’m taking you to the first outdoor fair of the year in this part of the world. It’s a lovely small-scale event organized around three themes: Lifestyle (bags, soaps, home accessories etc.), regional food and wool.

We’re mainly here for the woolly theme, of course, but let’s pay my knitting-group friend Simone (aka Mevrouw Polska) a visit first. Long ago, she dreamed of owning one of those beautiful blue-and-white Polish teapots one day, when she could afford it. Well, she has one now and didn’t stop at that. She grew a small business importing and selling earthenware from the Boleslawiec region in Poland. There’s always something new to see.

It was only afterwards, looking at the photo at home, that I noticed the lovely knitwear. Simone is wearing her cosy Herringbone Hill sweater and one of the many Clapotis scarves she’s knit. With 23.600 projects on Ravelry, Clapotis is a hugely popular pattern. Several people in our knitting group, including me, knit at least one. Have you knit one, too? And behind her, one of the other stall holders is wearing a beautiful yellow cable sweater.

What I love about this fair is that many of the businesses are tiny. Here is Frog Mouse Studio, for instance, with her cheerful hand-dyed yarns. Besides the usual 100 gram skeins, she also has a basket filled with mini-skeins. Very tempting.

The young stallholder tells me that this is her first ever fair, and also that she has designed the sweet yarn labels herself.

Websiteless Wolvrouwtje, owner of a herd of 8 Shetland sheep is taking part for the first time, too. She has some of their yarn spun at a mill, hand spins and dyes some of it and also sells raw fleeces. Everything on a really, really small scale.

Wat Wollie has been in business a little longer – I’ve already knit a pair of socks with some of her hand-dyed sock yarn. New on her stall is local wool from Noordhollander sheep, first dyed and carded by her, then spun at a small spinning mill. The colours on those skeins are so pretty, and its interesting to see how they play out on a hat.

Although I would have liked to support these small-scale businesses by purchasing some of their lovely products, my current yarn-buying policy* didn’t allow me to do so. I’m supporting them in a small way by writing about them instead.

Over the past week, my knitting has also been small-scale. Our grandson urgently needed a new pair of bootees, as you can see.

His mum had already given the wool-felt bootees new soles, but they are now beyond mending. So, I got out some yarn left over from a sweater I’d knit for this thrifty mum, got onto Ravelry and found these Baby Hausschuhe (free pattern from a German blogger available in German, English and Portuguese). It starts with the sole and stitches are picked up from that for the top of the bootees.

The pattern only describes one baby size far too small for our now 1-year-old grandson, but after a few false starts, I’ve been able to adapt it for larger feet (my Ravelry notes on how to do this can be found here).

This was a quick, satisfying and useful little project, even nicer because I already had the perfect yarn for it.

* My current yarn-buying policy is to only buy yarn with a specific project in mind, but before buying anything first look in my stash if there is something I can use. Besides knitting the bootees, I’ve started something else with leftover bits of (sock) yarn from my stash. I hope to tell you about that over the coming weeks. Bye for now!

Giethoorn Embroidery Samplers

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Hello!

Today, I’m taking you to the nearby village of Giethoorn again. We’ve visited several times before (here, here and here). Later in the year it’ll be teeming with tourists, but not yet.

Most cafés and shops are still closed. The museum is open, though, and that’s what matters because we’re here for the Embroidery Sampler Exhibition. I did not count them, but I think there are at least 40 and maybe even 50 local samplers on display, from 19th century ones to much more recent examples, and from simple school samplers…

… to very elaborate ones, using other embroidery techniques besides cross stitch as well. Here is one of those, with beautiful open seaming.

What strikes me in the Giethoorn embroidery samplers is that many of them are very personal, especially the later ones. Not just mentioning names and birth dates, but much more. Take the one below – there’s a whole life there: marriage, children, work, wartime memories, school and hobbies.

One of the embroiderers also seems to be a knitter. Interestingly, she doesn’t use cross stitch.

What I love most about the Giethoorn embroidery samplers is their local flavour. It’s not just that the word Giethoorn is embroidered on them, but they also have pictures of the traditional boats and the typical high bridges.

In the old centre, almost every house has its own bridge.

Some of the embroiderers have also included their homes in their samplers, in several cases even with the house number. Here is number 56.

I thought it would be fun to try and find the real house. It turned out to be close to the museum. The embroiderer has taken some artistic liberty with the number of windows, but you’ll recognize it straightaway.

Apart from this temporary embroidery exhibition, the museum shows us what life was like in Giethoorn around a century ago. Here is the front of the museum on one of the samplers.

Everything is there: the steps leading up to the front door, the chimney, the dormer window with its pointy top, the shutters and even the little window over the front door.

The Giethoorn sampler exhibition can be visited through mid-May. Information about the museum can be found on the museum website. For those of you living too far away, I hope you’ve enjoyed your virtual visit. For my Dutch readers: echt een bezoekje waard!