and when it gets really bad - keep calm and knit

When the nerves are raw, the mind full of worry, there's one thing that is forever soothing and grounding.

Cubling needed a new hat for the winter. Urgently as she's back at the forest kindergarten. I knew it had to be an ear flap hat, I wanted to do some fair isle just because I hadn't done it in a while. So I found myself the Norwegian Star Ear Flap hat. But as I prefer to knit from top to bottom, I merged it with with the Thorpe pattern. I guessed the length of the hat, which meant it's a bit generous but other than that... I like. So I guess it's a Norwegian Thorpe.

Little Miss Cheekychops of course refused to get her picture taken, or to even wear it. This is the only photo I got, which neither shows the earflaps nor my pride, the crocheted border particularly well. Yes, I crocheted this and it doesn't even look as if I don't actually know how to crochet.

The yarn hails from a Föhr sheep - it's hand spun and hand dyed, and I love the colour scheme, which I often get wrong, but I think this one works. There's still a good bit of yarn left, definitely enough for another hat, maybe even two.

The Runaway

My older girl is Little Miss Confidence. This is more than just a little bit surprising, considering her gene pool. It's amazing, at times difficult to relate to, sometimes it's useful because I send her to do the things I don't like to do. She's an inspiration for me oftentimes. Who wants to be outconfidenced by a four year old after all?

Other times, it's a heavy load to carry. Especially when you find yourself on a wide beach with an expanse of mudflats and no trace of your 4 year old.

We've done the drill - in calm explanation, in panicked raised voices, when I had feared for the worst. Yet still, she will run off. Not to spite, not to hide, just because she's confident to find her way. Yesterday she made her way to find my travel companions. She didn't find them and when I got there, there was no sign of her. But you know, she knows what to do: she went back to where we had parted, told the people who had done some felting with her that she couldn't find her mummy and waited. And of course, I came back there first, just in case she'd done that. I was full of fear and pride at the same time, and we had a very emotional moment.

With this emotion still very present, when I lost sight of her today (I'd gone back to fetch the camera), even knowing she was well looked after, did not calm my nerves. I walked for at least an hour and could not make out her shape, or the shape of the group I was looking for. Every minute I tried hard to remain calm and enjoy the beauty of the day and the location, there at the water's edge in the balmy pools of the low tide, she was with my friend and her husband, a better than usual 2 adults to 3 kids ratio; she was with her friend who she plays with intensely and who doesn't give her reason to run off, plus the newly reinforced rule no. 1 for the beach (do not run off at all, it's at least 20 times worse than pulling hair) was still very present. I knew she wouldn't run off, I knew she would be safe.

Yet as I walked the shoreline of the ever expanding landscape in front of me, I felt very small and helpless, and lonely.

Of course she was fine. Though she HAD wondered where on earth her Mama had run off to...

Postcard from Föhr - heatwave

It was "only" 24 degrees, but if you live in Scotland, this is hot.
Cubling asked to go home because she was too hot.
Luckily there's the sea and water and so we dug holes and castles, bathtubs and watt worm houses.

Any hotter and I'm positively seeking the shade.

This is not a child dancing, but trying to avoid stepping on the lines created by the watt worm. Pretty futile undertaking and thus she does not like the watt at all. Thanks to the Jugendhelfer (youth helpers) we made our own felted watt worms, then made a watt worm house at the beach. "Don't look down, look ahead only", helps too. We're getting there. It would be a shame to not explore this amazing tidal landscape for fear of watt worms which actually take flight with the water.

Postcard from Föhr - Watt/mudflats

And then, the sea disappears and a new world appears.
Cubling doesn't like it yet, but we're working on it.

Some of the photos remind me of the Norwegian/Scottish artist whose name I don't know. He put statutes of people into the beach in Norway and Scotland, some half covered in the sand. It looks cunningly like these photos.
Nature imitating art?

Postcard from Föhr - drawn in sand

If Föhr is one thing, it's the perfect place for children. Everyone cycles, the littlests go in trailers, and cars have an island wide speed restriction of 20m/h. There are endless activities for children, crafts, storytelling, walks, puppet shows. The sea meets the beach, the dunes meet the woodlands which are interspersed with picturesque reed covered houses. There is no litter, but lots of time. Fresh rolls for breakfast, local produce, a Sunday fishmarket and two yarn shops (one even has yarn from local sheeps, locally spun, locally dyed, locally everything).

The beach, a wonderland of high and low tide (you can walk the 5 miles to the next island at low tide), countless shells, digging running, exploring.
Today, the big kids decided to draw on the sand. A sun full of rays, a person, and a tree with lots of leaves. As for Snowflake, she wants to stand and walk. Alas she can't. The frustration, especially of seeing a 15 month old, a match in size, walking. Patience monkey, patience.

Postcard from Föhr #1-4

Almost a week without internet connection, but I'm back online and can finally start posting virtual postcards from the north sea island of Föhr where we currently stay. There's a bit of catchup to be done, so here are some first impressions.