Rheinfelden

The prolific and inspiring blogger CCETSI asked me in the comments about the Swiss museum we went to that had the section on the Black Death.  I had to have a look through my pictures to remind myself which town it was in, and I was instantly carried back in time.  It was such a wonderful day.

Rheinfelden is a small city in northern Switzerland.  As you have probably already guessed, it's along the River Rhine, and it's a wonderful medieval city-- just stunning!  We had only been in Switzerland for two months before visiting, so we were still fresh enough off the boat that we walked around gaping at the lovely details.  The children were so tiny then!

One of the things I love about old cities is the architecture.  I've always been fascinated by buildings and the shape and feel of a place.  Whenever I see old churches and tiny alleyways, I have to walk through them.  I just can't help myself.  This day was no exception because there was a lot to explore.

The main street of the city looks very much like other Swiss towns-- colorful, clean, historic, and lovely.  It has definitely kept its medieval feel.  You can see my crew strolling along ahead of me, taking it all in.

 

 

Besides being known for its beer, Rheinfelden has an amazing church-- St. Martin's.  You really wouldn't guess from the outside, but as you walk inside, you can't help but gasp.  It is an absolute masterpiece.

We also found an amusing and charming clock tower:

This one has tailor sitting above and a goat that passes along the wall at certain times of the day.   According to a lovely woman we befriended on the train, the story goes that a very long time ago the city was besieged, perhaps by the Spanish.  The walls were so heavily fortified that they couldn't get through, so they decided to wait and starve the inhabitants out.

Quite a few months passed this way, until not only were the inhabitants in the city starving, but so were the troops laying siege.  Rather than surrender, the inhabitants of Rheinfelden came up with a plan.  A tailor sewed up the skins and head of a goat into a costume of sorts, and then this "goat" walked at leisurely pace along the city wall, as if it didn't have a care in the world.

The troops laying siege assumed that if a goat was walking leisurely along, then the city must still be flourishing.  The starving troops abandoned their plan, and the inhabitants of the city were safe.

If you would like to see the goat, I found a video online. The picture quality isn't very good, but you you can get the general idea.

We also spent quite a bit of time in the Fricktaler Museum.  There were some lovely items from many different time periods.  Since I know others are studying the medieval era right now, here are a few from that time period.

A stunning example of an illuminated manuscript:

Sharp things:

And here are the pictures from the Black Death exhibit.  I've had to brighten them a little because the room was quite dark and very ominous.  As you can see, the costume is a bit foreboding, especially that eye peeking out from behind the glass goggles.  It gives me the shivers just thinking about it.

 

The following pictures are two of my favorites from that day.  One is a mermaid fountain I walked into by accident.  It was hiding behind a building across the bridge that crosses the Rhine.  So it's actually in Germany.

The craftsmanship is exquisite.  I'm not quite sure what's going on here, but I love that it makes me wonder.

This one just touches me.  I love the historic feel to it... even the old man.  It's like stepping back in time.  The motorcycles and the signage give it an absurd quality.  That's Switzerland in a nutshell.  Time changes and stands still all in the same moment.

St. George's play

At the end of April we had St. George's Day here in England.  Apparently it's a big deal.  Since we were in the midst of a local geography lesson, it seemed only right to learn more about it and how it's celebrated here.

We already knew the story of St. George slaying the dragon.  It has been told and retold countless times, by countless people.  Usually it's something we do at Michaelmas, and my go-to version comes from one of the Waldorf books.  However, this time I told a version I found over at the Baldwin Project from C. S. Bailey, entitled simply: St. George and the Dragon.  And the girls were quick to say that they preferred this retelling much more than the others.

Because Sunburst had been studying the Crusades a few months ago, we were reminded about how St. George's cross was used to identify a crusader and then brought to England by Richard the Lionheart to identify English troops in battle.

We set out to hear the poem by William Blake ("And did those feet in ancient time") that was turned into a hymn of sorts and named "Jerusalem."  It's a wonderful song-- even Emerson, Lake and Palmer covered it in the 70s.  The girls were so enamored with the song that we were inspired to learn it.  And that was Monday.  Our first attempts to get the tune down were hilarious, but by Tuesday we had begun to show signs of improvement.

The girls both made some lovely St. George drawings for their books.  Sunburst wanted to draw hers in pencil, while Moonshine asked if she could use pastels.  Moonshine's drawing had such an otherworldly quality to it that it reminded me of program covers from Waldorf school plays.  The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that we finally had a large enough cast to put on a proper play.  The kids were immediately excited by the idea and thought it would be a great surprise for their dad Einstein.

We created a program using artwork from the girls' main lesson books.  I included the words to "Jerusalem" so that it would be a nice keepsake for the kids.  Even Kitty Bill picked up the lyrics rather quickly.

 Here is Sunburst's drawing on the inside of the program:

And Kitty Bill was inspired to draw a picture, as well: 

Both Sunburst and Moonshine wanted to help write the dialog, so we worked on it together in the afternoons as they found the inspiration.  Somehow the entire thing took on a life of its own and turned into a musical-- this is what happens when you have children that don't ever stop singing. 

Sunburst played both the king and the dragon.  She managed to transform a cereal box into a convincing dragon's head.  Moonshine took the part of the Princess Sabra, with the comic exception that she wanted to be eaten by the dragon.  Kitty Bill played St. George.  His role was fairly straight forward, but he managed to bring some comedic personality to the role when, overcome with wonder by Sunburst's convincing dragon death scene during rehearsals, he shouted, "Awesome!"  We laughed so hard that we decided to leave that line in for the performance.

They had a fantastic time, and Einstein was completely impressed.  He couldn't believe that they had pulled off the show without him catching any hint of it.  And of course he was taken with their performances.

We managed to capture the entire performance on video to send the grandparents back in the states.  I think it will be quite the treat for my British grandmother in particular.  I fully expect she will be singing along.

Plague

The children and I have all finally recovered from a terrible cold.  It was the kind that gets into your bones and makes you feel weak and weepy, inconsolable and feverish.  We spent the last couple of weeks coughing and sputtering and feeling just utterly miserable.  

Because it goes with the theme, I thought I'd show you a couple of sketches of the plague doctor that Sunburst and I penciled a few of weeks ago when we were talking about the Great Pestilence or Great Plague of 1348.

A few years ago we came across a lovely historical museum in Switzerland that had a section dedicated to the Great Plague, or Schwarzer Tod.  We were all mesmerized by the costume on display for the Doktor Schnabel.  It's an image that you don't forget easily, though I'm sure it's nothing compared to how the people of the time felt about it.

I just loved Sunburst's drawing of this-- it has such great feeling to it.  I love how she captured the mystery and foreboding-- the fog creeping over the ground, the clouded moon.  I think it's just marvelous.  Her drawing gives a much more sense impression than my static close-up pictured on the right.  It is such a joy to draw with her.

On a somewhat related note...

We're still house hunting.  We recently viewed an interesting house on the market-- a house from the 13th century.  It's wild to me that we could choose to live in a house that predates the Black Death.  I'm just a simple girl from the Southwest, so back home, that would be akin to renting out a cliff dwelling or something.  It's hard to wrap my brain around it.

It was a fascinating house with two separate stairwells, many little bedrooms and offices, and tiny period-sized windows.  My imagination was running wild the whole time.  The children, despite feeling a bit crummy, enjoyed poking around and exploring all the nooks and crannies, trying to imagine themselves living there.  Sunburst had the rooms parceled out in no time, before heading out to explore the garden which was another world of its own.

First of all, there was a pigsty.  Yes, an actual period building that housed pigs!  It was jammed full of boxes and things, so we couldn't explore inside, but the actual outside sty part of it charmed me.  The kids started dreaming up farm animals they could house there, like pygmy goats, and it wasn't hard to imagine.  It was all very ethereal.

Next there was a giant outbuilding, like a garden house but larger, perhaps the size of what I imagine Laura Ingalls might have lived in at one time.  It had a wide porch on it, the kind you could imagine somewhere on a hot day in the Deep South, sitting in your rocking chair, playing the banjo, and sipping lemonade.  Completely out of place in England, I'll tell you.  Until the sun came out four days ago, I couldn't even fathom a truly hot day here or drinking anything but a steaming cup of tea.

We couldn't explore inside that outbuilding either, because it too was crammed full of the forgotten remnants of someone else's life.  In fact, the entire house and outbuildings were completely packed and overflowing with stuff.  Clothes were strewn around the tiny kitchen, every closet and cupboard was bursting, and nearly every flat surface was laden with who knows what.  It was so strange.  I've never gone house hunting and encountered such a menagerie of, well... stuff in my life.  The character of the house was a little lost because of it.

It was very old world meets new world in a way.  And this wasn't lost on the children.  Sunburst aptly pointed out how strange it was to see teetering piles of plastic toys in an old, wooden house.  Or crayon and marker drawings all over the walls.  It was surreal to say the least.

The strangeness didn't end in the house, it followed us into the garden where we also discovered an old grindstone and some abandoned bee boxes in the far corner of the garden.  A little sleuthing under the overgrown ivy uncovered  a sign advertising local honey.  There was another outbuilding full of beekeeping supplies, strewn haphazardly about, as if several years ago the beekeeper walked out in the middle of his work and just left everything splayed out there.

Einstein has been considering keeping bees for some time now, so he was really intrigued by that one little room.  And the garden itself, though overgrown and mysterious, stole my heart a little bit.

We mused about it the entire drive home.  The village was adorable.  The house is bigger than what we have now.  But it's also darker, and by the signs of electric blankets on the beds, colder.  Every room was heated with electric heaters.  Every windowsill and corner had signs of mold, and the only word I can find to describe the wall in the stairwell is... mushy.  It doesn't even matter that our car doesn't fit in the driveway or that our sofa wouldn't have a chance fitting through the tiny doorway.  The mushy wall clenched it.

We're going to continue looking, but meanwhile, it sure does make the house we're in seem a whole lot nicer to come home too.

 

Braving the rain

I'm happy to announce that we have survived what the locals tell me is the wettest April England has seen in over a century... or perhaps ever, depending on who you ask.  I cannot even begin to tell you how relieved I was to hear that it wasn't normal spring weather: cold temperatures, several days of hail, superior amounts of wind, and a daily wallop of rain.  We've been feeling a bit like the beginning of Dr. Seuss' The Cat in the Hat:  "Too wet to go out. Too cold to play ball..."

Although we did a lot of staying in the house and guzzling tea to keep warm, we did manage to get out and brave the rain a few times.  One of those trips was to tour the manor and grounds of a local 12th century Tudor mansion.  It was another adventure in local geography that answered the question, "What is there to see around here?"

 

Exploring the "old" kitchen.

 

The kids were intrigued by the landscaping.  They decided that it made a great place to take cover from the intermittent rain.

After a strong shower passed, we had a chance to explore the grounds a bit.  It would be a great place to go walking on a sunny day.

Heirloom Carrots - a bumper crop!

I recently received a picture of the baby in Hamburg decked out in his new duds.  He's so beautiful, and the parents were very happy to receive our handknit goodness.  So happy, in fact, that they called us.  Twice.

The weather has been a bit gloomy and wet, no surprise there, so I've been spending time indoors knitting for the newest babies.  With Moonshine's help, I've been cranking out some little gifts for babies in hot climates and the new babies of Einstein's co-workers.  If that sounds like a lot of babies, believe me.  It is.

This past year has been a bumper crop of babies.  They are sprouting up all over the place.  So I had to think fast and knit fast.  What to give a bumper crop of babies?  A bumper crop of carrots!

Despite the overwhelming number of carrot patterns out there, I couldn't find one that was just right.  They were either too large or too flawlessly perfect.  I wanted something that looked a little more organic, like an heirloom variety.  So I made my own pattern.  Each one is knit with superwash wool and has a little rattle nestled inside.  They are so sweet I could eat them up!

I hope you enjoy the pattern.  If you make one, I'd love to hear from you.  You can also find this pattern on Ravelry or download a pdf version of this pattern HERE.

Heirloom Carrot

Materials
• US #3 (3.25mm) DPNs
• crochet hook, size US #G (approx.)
• small amounts of worsted weight yarn in orange and green
• stuffing
• rattle (optional)

Carrot
CO 12 stitches and divide evenly on 3 dpns.
Place marker, join, and knit one round.
Round 2: *K2, Kfb* repeat to end (16 sts)
Round 3: K even
Round 4: *K1, kfb* repeat to end (24 sts)
Knit even until piece measures 1.5 inches from CO edge.

Decrease 3 stitches evenly (or randomly, like a real carrot) on next round. (21 sts)
Knit 3 rounds even. Decrease 3 sts. on next round. (18 sts)
Knit 5 rounds even. Decrease 3 sts on next round. (15 sts)
Knit 3 rounds even. Decrease 3 sts. on next round. (12 sts)
Knit 3 rounds even. Decrease 3 sts. on next round. (9 sts)
Knit 5 rounds even. K1, *K2tog* repeat to end. (5 sts)

Adjust stitches onto one dpn, and switching to i-cord, knit one row.
Next round: K1, *K2tog* to end. (3 sts)
Then K 2 rounds even in i-cord.
Cut yarn and thread through remaining stitches to close.

Finishing and Greens
Stuff carrot body through the top, inserting rattle if desired, and close hole.
With crochet hook and green yarn, pick up three stitches across middle of carrot top. Slip to close, ensuring that the greens are firmly attached and making sure to leave one stitch on your hook.

Ch 20-25 sts and turn, sc your way back down to the carrot body, randomly skipping multiple sts to make the greens curl. The greens should be rascally and wild, so just have fun with it.
Slip to close in the carrot top, and repeat above two or more times, as desired. Weave in ends.

A note about gauge: Just make sure your stitches are tight enough so the stuffing doesn't show through.

Out and about

 Our car finally came back from the shop-- it had been there an entire month getting primped up with flashing lights and other gizmos so it would pass British car inspections.  I cannot even put into words how happy we were to see our car again.  To celebrate, after a desperate trip to the grocery store, we took the weekend and went exploring.  It was so nice to get out again!

On Saturday, we went downtown.  We live on the edge of a fairly large town, but for some reason, we still hadn't been to see what it was all about.  Probably too busy fighting mold and trying to keep warm.  Since Moonshine is in the midst of a local geography lesson, we decided it was time.  It turns out there was much to see.  So much, in fact, that we didn't quite see it all.

Our city, like every other city in England, is ancient.  It dates back to the bronze age.  It has its share of preserved medieval buildings, including a few gates left from the old city wall.

 

 

We got a bit distracted by a huge museum downtown.  We wandered inside just for a minute, and an hour passed.  I didn't take many pictures, as my camera is eating batteries like candy lately, but it was filled with all kinds of memorabilia through the ages.  Kitty Bill was a bit taken with all the cars on display.  Sunburst and Moonshine loved the part where everything was decorated like you were transported back in time-- old buildings and shops, mannequins in period clothing, horses and carts, bicycles... The lights were dimmed so that everything looked somewhat real.

 
There was a part with an air raid siren, and Kitty Bill and I got a bit spooked out, but luckily it was over fairly quickly.  And there wasn't too much to have to explain to the younger kids about it.  It could have been much worse.

On Sunday we went for a drive to see some houses for rent.  We're actively looking for a place that suits us better.  We didn't find it, but we did come across seemingly endless fields full of Rapsblume, or canola, as it's called in the US.  I don't know what they call it here yet, but I have to tell you, it's my absolute favorite flower.

I unwittingly forgot to bring my camera along on this walk, so you'll just have to take my word for it when I tell you that it was an absolutely amazing sight to behold.  It was more lovely than anything I have yet to see in England.

We had fields full of Raps near where we lived in Switzerland, and they were a familiar sight as we drove all across Germany a few years ago.  They smell like fresh beeswax, and they're so neon yellow that they truly glow.  It's impossible to not feel happy next to a field full of them, and while we were easily reminded of them and transported back to Switzerland for a few minutes, this was clearly better.  Because it wasn't just one or two fields.  When we climbed to the rise above the field, we could see them glowing in the distance.  The Rapsblume spread around us far and wide, it was like being suddenly dropped on the set of the Wizard of Oz, where the Raps were both the yellow brick road and the poppy field all rolled into one.

If we get a bit of sun next weekend, we're surely going back.  This time I won't forget my camera.

Meanwhile, Kitty Bill and I collected some feathers and a few Raps that we found on the footpath. Bonus points if anyone can tell me what bird the feathers on the left came from.

Hope springs eternal

An unlikely friendship - Cricket with Ronia, the rat

It has been an emotional week.  I've been searching for the right words, both within myself and without.  Searching for the good, trying not to focus on the bad.  Trying to crest each wave instead of being dragged under.  Such is life, and I fear I've swallowed a bit of water in the process.

To cap the emotional tide, we lost a pet.  Ronia, our beloved rat, passed away in Sunburst's hands.  It's awful to lose a pet, but it is something else to watch your child grieve as she comforts her pet in the final moments of its life.  Sunburst is a brave and strong soul with heart of gold.  As a mother I couldn't be more proud of her, but my heart aches all the same.

Ronia was an old rat with a sweet disposition.  She had suffered at least two strokes since January, which left her unable to keep her balance and walk correctly.  She had lost her sight and her sense of smell, and she had difficulty breathing.  But despite all these seemingly huge obstacles, she hung on for months.  She was a fighter and a lover.  She loved to cuddle-- not only with Sunburst, but with our cat Cricket.

I would be remiss if I didn't recognize that all three of our children are grieving, though each in their own way.  And yet, even in the midst of sorrow, the sun emerges.  The flowers bloom.  Life goes on, and the living forces are renewed.  It's the eternal lesson of spring.

There is still so much to be thankful for.