(Detail from a carving made from a photograph of a Civil War Union POW.)

I’ve recently been working on Cecily Glowik MacDonald’s Provence Baby Cardigan as a “welcome to the world” gift for a friend’s brand new granddaughter. Although it wasn’t part of the pattern, I decided I would sew some grosgrain ribbon onto the back of the buttonband…ostensibly to add a sturdier anchor material for the buttons but really because my grandmother used to do this on her handknits. When my own daughter was born, the cardigan sweaters knit for her by Nana all had grosgrain on the buttonbands and I suppose I consider that ribbon a sign of something well-made (and made well) with love.

As I was sewing, I found myself falling deeper and deeper into the rhythm of the stitches and not surprisingly my thoughts turned to things beyond the work at hand. At first I pondered the wonderfully relaxing effect the hand-sewing was having on me but then my mind wandered off into thoughts of handwork in general and giving handmade gifts specifically.

As much as I love to make things, there is always part of me that feels more than a little insecure about giving handmade gifts. I look at the baby cardigan and, even though I know I made it out of caring for my friend and her family and even though I know that it is a beautiful reflection of that care, I see every little mistake I made whilst knitting it and I wonder…is it good enough? Surely something bought at the store would be better, wouldn’t it?

Growing up, we did not have a lot of money. I still remember some of our family “experiments”…like eating vegetarian for a month “to be more civilised” (in fact: because meat was expensive and we didn’t have enough money for it) or going without television for six months because “it rots your brain” (in fact: the TV broke and it took us six months to save up money for a new one). Handmade gifts were part and parcel (sorry…it had to be said!) of growing up without extra disposable income. My mum would make the most amazing Barbie doll clothes for us at Christmas time. There was none of this “buy a new Barbie along with a new outfit for her”; we had one doll each and most of her clothes were handmade!

I suspect that that sort of existence was pretty much the norm for most people prior to the rise of rampant consumerism. Gifts were handmade because they had to be and they really meant something…you certainly didn’t have the time or money to hand gifts out like Chiclets. As being a consumer became a sign of prosperity, handmade gifts settled into the world of the underclass. And there they’ve remained for quite some time.

Over eighty years ago, the promise of “a chicken in every pot and a car in every garage” was issued and I think it’s safe to say that, for the vast majority of people, that promise has been fulfilled. Why then are so many people returning to the idea of handmade gifts? It’s not just knitting a sweater for a new baby…it’s also baking cookies for a helpful neighbour, giving a hand-drawn card to a friend on their birthday, sewing an apron for someone who loves to cook.

It’s awfully trite to say “money can’t buy you love” or “money can’t buy happiness” but maybe it really is that simple. Or maybe we’re just waking up to the fact that the care and love put into a handmade gift should have a higher value than the cost of a similar gift from a store.

As for me, I will continue to make and give handmade gifts. And I’ll try not to feel too bad about it.

Two years ago, I wrote about making ratafia with loquats from one of my trees.

That particular tree succumbed to fire blight last year but I was looking forward to making another batch of ratafia with fruit from the loquat tree at the back of the house.

I noticed fire blight on the remaining loquat about a week ago and, after reading up on it, the Spouse and I got right on it. Alas, when he went up on the roof to take care of the obviously dead branches, he reported that ALL of the branches were infected. The best laid plans and all that…

All the branches had to come down (we’ve left the trunk as it should put some new branches out eventually and some copper-based treatments should take care of the fire blight…I hope!) and so I was out in the back, harvesting the not-yet-ripe loquats.

I decided that I would try making verjuice (or verjus, if you’re in a Gallic state of mind) with the fruit. BBC Radio 4’s Food Programme had done an episode on verjuice and it seemed like a very interesting sort of foodstuff.

I quartered and seeded the entire haul of loquats (somewhere between five and ten pounds) and then ran them through the food processor, creating a pulp.

The pulp sat in a cheesecloth-lined colander (weighted) overnight in order to collect the juice itself. If I’d had a better press set up, I could have got much more liquid out of the mash but as it was, I ended up with almost a litre. Salt was added, to prevent any chance of fermentation, and into the fridge it went.

I left it in its initial container for a week, just to be sure that it wasn’t going to start fermenting. It’s quite salty (no, I didn’t measure the salt but obviously I put a wee bit too much in!) so I felt safe in transferring it to glass today.

The verjuice looks and smells quite a bit like unfiltered apple juice; not surprisingly, I’m sure, as the loquat is related to the apple. I’m quite looking forward to using it (judiciously!) as a deglazing liquid this winter.

Crosby (Zippered Vest with Cables)

This cabled sleeveless vest with ribbed side panels is fantastic for those “not-too-warm-and-not-too-cold” days. It’s knit in one piece with minimal seaming and features a simple but attractive cable pattern. The 2-way zippered closure makes it a very versatile addition to any wardrobe while waist shaping and short row shaping in the bust make it customizable to any body type.
Note: This is a plus-size pattern.

Sizes

L (1X, 2X, 3X)

Finished Size

Bust: 38” (42”, 46”, 52”)
To fit bust: 42” (46”, 50”, 56”)

Skills Utilised

• Increases; Decreases; Cable; Cable cast on; Attached I-cord; Seaming; Short rows; Basic sewing (for sewing in the zipper)

Yarn

Full Belly Farm Organic Worsted (100% wool; 4 oz. = approx. 250 yards) or other heavy worsted weight wool; Colour: natural: 5 (5, 6, 6) skeins

Needles and Other Supplies

• 40” circular needle in size US 7 (or size required to make gauge)
• 24” circular needle in size US 5
• Cable needle
• Stitch markers
• Waste yarn
• 22” two-way separating zipper
• Thread
• Sewing machine (optional)

Gauge

11 stitches and 12 rows = 2 inches in Crooked Cable stitch

For yarn substitution purposes:

8 stitches and 13 rows = 2 inches in stockinette

$5.00