Bear with me, this one is a little convoluted.
In the
run up to Christmas LD:NorthEast sometimes has stalls at local fairs, to raise
both money and awareness. For the past
couple of years I’ve stood behind a stall full of craft items including things
made by us knit’n’natter ladies. Amongst
other things we have babies' and toddlers' jackets, hats of all sizes,
scarves, variously sized blankets, teddies and other cuddlies, snowmen, angels,
santas and tea-cosies.
Last December at the
Quorum Christmas Market a steel haired, bespectacled lady of a certain age came
and stood staring at the stall for quite some time. I don’t like to hassle people but eventually caught her eye and put my head to one side in a querying gesture.
“Bed-socks!” she barked.
“I’m afraid we don’t have any” I said “But we
have knee blankets and…”
“No-one makes bed-socks any more” she snapped “they always used to have them at bazaars and sales of work, but you never see them now.”
“Well I tell you what” I said as soothingly
as I could manage “I’ll knit some bed-socks and bring them here next year so you
can buy them.”
“If we’re still here” she retorted and flounced off without even
having a go at our chocolate tombola.
I
consulted my various vintage pattern books and have knitted two or three
conventional pairs. Then I discovered a
(?) 1950s pattern for ‘bedroom booties’; which are not as exciting as our
American friends might imagine. They are
basically made out of a single rib or garter-stitch square; it is the sewing up
that turns them into a bootee. The simplicity of the knitting means they are something almost all our ladies can make.
The
problem is unless they are on a foot it’s hard to see what they are or how they
work.
I’ve been racking my brains for a way to display them that doesn’t involve taking my shoes off.
Fester,
the boys and I have just had four lovely nights in a cottage in Millfield.
I’m afraid I’ve lost my heart to the
wonderful scenery of North Northumberland.
Yesterday we took the bus up into Berwick and I found myself outside a
shop that is charitably listed as an antique dealer, but looked more like an old
fashioned junk shop.
That being said
there were some very interesting things in the window; including a pair of
wooden lasts.
I went in and asked the
proprietor about “the wooden feet”
“The whit? Come outside and show me… Oh them. They’re lasts. Come from Northampton ... Used to make gentlemen’s shoes …best beech-wood. £10 the pair.”
I explained what I wanted them for, agreed
the price, paid up and put them in my bag.
Meanwhile
Fester and the boys had been to get the newspaper and Ferretfingers’ tv
magazines and were standing outside the shop.
The
proprietor looked out of the window “I
take it Gandalf is with you.”
“Yes” I
sighed “mind you that makes a difference from the grumpy Santa.”
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