kitchen stories (salmer fra kjøkkenet)

I’ve been meaning to share a bit about this design since the autumn 2021 issue of Amirisu came out in November! The issue’s theme is knitwear inspired by films, and I found the process of coming up with a design for this one super interesting, so I thought I’d share both my new design today as well as a bit about the film that inspired it. (I did briefly share a few thoughts over on the Amirisu blog back in November, but I’ll go into a bit more depth here.)

Kitchen Stories is a Norwegian/Swedish co-production directed by Bent Hamer (original title Salmer fra kjøkkenet, literally “psalms from the kitchen,” and occasionally you’ll find it with that title in English). The cardigan I designed shares its name with the film, but before I go into too much detail I’m going to take you back to the beginning of the process, when the original brief for the issue came through.

Normally when it’s time for a call for submissions, Amirisu (or any magazine, for that matter) has a theme in mind and they put together a visual mood board to steer you in the direction they want to go. This time, however, the call specified that they were looking for knitwear inspired by our favorite movies, and there was no mood board. I love films, so I loved this brief, but I also found it a unique challenge. With no visual mood board for the issue there were so many directions that designs could go in – likewise with the whole world of movies at my disposal. I feel like my taste in films can be a little eclectic, and the three movies I was able to narrow it down to probably showcase that – they were Kitchen Stories (a quiet and slightly absurd comedy from 2003 set in post-war Norway), Breathless (or À bout de souffle, Godard’s early French New Wave 1960 directorial debut), and My Neighbor Totoro (the 1988 animated Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli film about a friendly forest spirit, to grossly oversimplify).

I put together my own mood board with stills and images from the films to help me start to brainstorm ideas. If I went for My Neighbor Totoro, the visual connection to the film could either be very literal (and thus, cartoony) or slightly more abstract, drawing on the themes of nature and environmentalism – not unlike the other pieces I’ve already designed for Amirisu. If I went for Breathless, which was shot in black and white on location in Paris, stripes seemed to be the overwhelming visual. Classic, but a bit anonymous as well. In the end it’s not a huge surprise I went for Kitchen Stories; the Norwegian setting definitely aligns with my style as a designer, and the film itself has an incredibly strong visual identity.

Isak sits at his kitchen table in the foreground, while Folke sits in his high observation chair in the background
“Salmer fra Kjøkkenet” 2003 © BulBul Film a.s., Regi Bent Hamer, Stillsfotograf Erik Aavatsmark

Kitchen Stories is set in rural Norway in the post-WWII period. Isak, a lone farmer, has signed up to participate in a study being carried out by the Swedish Home Research Institute investigating the kitchen habits of Norwegian bachelors. He regrets this decision and once Swedish researcher Folke shows up, Isak uses his kitchen very reluctantly. Director Bent Hamer was inspired by some of the studies the actual Hemmens forskningsinstitut carried out on housewives during this period, but the addition of Norwegian bachelors gives the film its slightly absurdist twist. At the film’s opening we watch a brigade of Swedish researchers drive their cars and trailers – which the researchers will reside in during the study – across the border to meet the Norwegian participants on the other side.

Swedish researchers driving their cars and blue-green trailers through a snowy landscape on their way to meet the Norwegian participants.

The trailers are all the same shade of minty blue-green, and this color theme continues throughout the film, as Isak’s kitchen walls are also a dusty blue-green color. Given that it’s one of my favorite color families (I’ve even recently painted my craft room a minty blue-green shade), the color palette for the design was clear from the start.

A man and a boy stand outside a building where a mint-green mid-century trailer is parked. The boy is leaning on a mint-green baby carriage in the same shade as the trailer. They both look up to the right.

While the film itself doesn’t necessarily feature stranded knitting, this mid-century period was definitely a heyday for traditional Norwegian kofter, or colorwork cardigans, so I opted to draw from that tradition for the design. It’s definitely a modern take on the garment, though, between the soft pastel color palette (whereas black and white would be more traditional) and the light weight of the yarn and the finished cardigan – in this period kofter tended to be made with thicker yarn knit at a very tight gauge. They were heavy and quite weatherproof, and could essentially be used as outerwear. My Kitchen Stories cardigan is knit with Biches et Bûches Le Petit Lambswool, a woolen spun light fingering weight yarn, knit at a gauge of 26 stitches per 4″ / 10 cm, making it quite appropriate for our well-insulated and well-heated modern interiors.

Masako models the Kitchen Stories cardigan, worn open over a black turtleneck and a brown skirt.
Image courtesy of Amirisu Magazine

The construction is relatively traditional, but with some small differences in technique to suit modern preferences when it comes to working steeks and cutting knitting. The body is worked in the round from the bottom up, with a steek for the front opening, steeks for each armhole, and front neck steek to create the curved neckline. The shoulders are seamed and the steeks are cut open before stitches are picked up around the armhole to work the sleeves top down. The neckband is picked up and knit back and forth, and finally the button bands are picked up from the front edges and worked back and forth. It’s a rewarding if somewhat labor intensive process, and I’m so pleased with the final cardigan. The motif I used came from Anne Bårdsgård’s Selbu Patterns (Selbumønster in the original Norwegian) and it’s one I’ve wanted to use since I first laid eyes on it, with its combination of geometric elements (like the strong diagonals) and organic ones (like the little pine bough motifs bring to mind both foliage but also frost patterns on a window).

The whole issue is a beautiful one (you can see the rest of the patterns on Ravelry here), and one of the things I looked forward to prior to its release was learning which films the other designers used as their source of inspiration. I loved finding out that My Neighbor Totoro made it into the issue after all, with Sari Nordland’s Satsuki (Rav link), a subtle but clever interpretation of the pattern on Totoro’s belly using minimalist cables. I was also happy to see the French New Wave represented as well, with Orlane Sucche’s Cléo (Rav link) inspired by Agnès Varda’s Cléo de 5 à 7. I’m so grateful that I got to be part of this issue.

a new year

A close-up of tree branches in the winter sunlight, with icy snow beginning to melt off. The background is blurred and the sunlight pours in from the left.

Happy new year to you all! It’s been a little while, hasn’t it? It seems I haven’t posted since August, and if I’m honest, 2021 feels like a year that just quietly slipped by. I can hardly believe Christmas and the new year have come and gone again already. Nonetheless, I wanted to pop by here to say hello, wish you all a happy new year, and share a few wintry snaps from my first long walk of the year.

I spent an hour and a half on Trondheim’s Ladestien trail today, on what was an absolute stunner of a day. Ladestien follows the shoreline from the eastern edge of the city center well out to Ranheim and beyond, so many parts of it are in shadow at this time of year, but I love being by the water, particularly as the other side of the fjord is beautifully sunny on a day like today.

An old wooden storage building sits in the shady snow. It's painted red and has decorative white trim on its pitched roof.
Snow-covered mountains sit on the horizon across the fjord under a blue sky.
A red wooden boathouse sits a the snow-covered shoreline at high tide. The water comes all the way up to the boathouse.
Light stretches down a path in the woods. The sun is low in the sky so the trees cast

I’ll leave you with that today, but you’ll hear more from me very soon!

driving the helgeland coast

Since I’m still waiting on a Covid vaccine (at 33, I’m essentially at the very back of the queue in Trondheim), this year’s summer vacation has been another domestic holiday by necessity. We kept it relatively short – I’m saving more of my holiday time for December, when I should be fully vaccinated and we can hopefully plan an extended US trip to coincide with Christmas so I can see friends and family I haven’t seen since 2019. (I’ll also admit that after nearly a year and a half of travel restrictions, I’m not so used to being far from home for long!) Nonetheless, we recently went on a road trip up the coast, and I thought I’d share a little bit of it!

We drove north last summer as well, but last year we mostly stuck to the E6, the inland main highway between Trondheim and northern Norway. This year we wanted to cover some new ground, so we decided to try the coastal route. This means slower driving and lots of ferries, so we set a leisurely pace and covered 3-4 hours of driving per day with overnight stops in different coastal towns. This stretch of coast between Steinkjer and Bodø is known as Helgeland, and the coastal highway (fylkesvei 17) is called Kystriksveien, literally “the coastal road.” With 650 km of road and six ferries along the way, it’s a scenic route, and it’s also dotted with islands of all sizes along the way.

Looking toward (from left to right) Litlhornet shrouded in clouds, Kula, and Heilhornet from Fv802
Golden hour just north of Brønnøysund

Rather than starting off with Steinkjer, we opted to take the ferry from Trondheim to Fosen first, adding an additional ferry to the route. We spent the first night in Namsos, and then picked up Fv17 the next day on the way to Brønnøysund. We had excellent weather for the first few days of the trip, and then it took a turn. By the time we crossed the Arctic Circle, grey clouds had taken up near-permanent residence in the sky. The midnight sun is distinctly less impressive when you can’t ever see it. But I think it’s par for the course for some stretch of the northern summer – I remember going crazy when we lived in Tromsø, because when the weather is grey/rainy and the sun never sets, the sky just…never changes. At least we had some fine weather for the first few days.

There are all sorts of interesting places to stop along the Coastal Road, and while we didn’t venture out to any of the islands this time, they definitely seem worth visiting in the future. Mostly, we enjoyed the scenic drives and the many ferries. I love the coast.

Waiting for the ferry at Kilboghamn.
The Seven Sisters range on the horizon on the ferry from Forvik to Tjøtta.

I never take as many photos as I’d like, but on some level I suppose that’s a good thing! Travel really helps me feel present in the moment. But I did grab snaps on my phone here and there, and I hope you enjoy the little glimpse of the Coastal Road in Helgeland.

Silavatnet, or Sila Lake, in Lurøy municipality
Svartisen glacier seen from the north, across Holandsfjord

We ended the Coastal Road with a few nights in Bodø before coming home the more direct way on the E6. I’d been to Bodø before, but only for an overnight stop, so it was nice to have a little bit more time in the city. We stopped in at the city museum, part of Nordlandsmuseet, and I really enjoyed the temporary exhibition they’re currently running, called Helt Konge – it’s a photo exhibition of imagery of the Norwegian royal family in people home’s and public spaces. I’m not very fussed about royals myself, but the exhibition concept is fascinating to me and it’s always interesting to get a glimpse of other people’s lives through their everyday spaces. I also enjoyed learning a bit more about Bodø’s history from the permanent collection. The museum isn’t too big so it was a nice way to spend an hour or two.

The city museum in Bodø

If you’re curious about Helgeland and want to learn a bit more, I’ll point you to this post from the travel blog Heart my Backpack, which is full of tips and links to more info. I feel so privileged to live somewhere where this kind of scenery is so close by, but I will admit I miss traveling further afield and I’m really looking forward to doing more of that in the future, post-vaccine. In the meantime, I’m enjoying the rest of my summer holiday at home: reading, cooking, gardening. There might even be a bit of sewing before I head back to work!

a few september snaps

I know I’m not the only one wondering where the month has gone. (This year especially, that seems to keep happening.) September has been the wettest month in Trondheim so far – I think it’s rained nearly every day. Just weeks and weeks of rain. Yesterday we finally had a clear day for the first time in ages, and it was a real treat! But I did manage to grab a few snaps in the past few days when there were breaks in the rain. I thought I’d share a few with you today, in case you needed a dose of autumn beauty.

Although I didn’t feel quite ready for it when the first signs of fall started showing themselves, I’m definitely enjoying it now. It’s hard not to love this season in Norway, even when the rain clouds won’t leave you alone.

Yesterday’s clear skies gave us one more treat – I finally saw some proper northern lights in Trondheim! We were absolutely spoiled when we lived in Tromsø, since they happen quite regularly there. In Trondheim they’re less frequent, and there’s quite a bit of light pollution both from the city, as well as the farming region on the north side of the fjord which has a lot of greenhouses that cast a noticeable orange glow into the sky. But last night, there were a few minutes of pretty active aurora and we were lucky enough to watch from our balcony. I’ve really missed the aurora, so I hope we get to see some more this year.

september

Late summer is giving way to early autumn.

You can feel the days growing shorter here in Trondheim, the sun sitting lower in the sky. While I enjoyed the long summer days, the return of night and the stars is welcome. The wildflowers have almost all finished and filled the breezy air with floating seeds. The rose hips are ripening and the rowan berries are turning bright red. A few eager leaves have even stared changing color.

I find myself moving back and forth between good days and low ones. Some days I feel like I’m coping relatively well with everything going on in the world and I can find moments of joy. Other days are harder. I’m sure many of you have felt similarly. It’s hard to know what to say beyond that.

I continue to take refuge in making, though, and I have finished a few projects in the past few months that I’ve been wanting to share as well. So hopefully you’ll see some more crafting in this space very soon.

In the meantime, I’m doing my best to soak up the lingering warm, sunny days we’re getting in between pockets of rain. I do enjoy a good mix of both, so I have no complaints there. And I’ll never turn down an excuse to enjoy an ice cream outside in the sunshine. As always, I hope you’re keeping well.

a quick road trip to smøla

Mountains and water are visible through the window of a ferry boat. A table and red seats are visible in the foreground.

At the beginning of the week, the heat finally broke, and we’ve been enjoying a bit of rain along with much cooler temperatures. For anyone whose summer holiday started this week, I recognize that that’s probably inconvenient, but since I’ll be working on and off throughout July (I only have half the usual allotted vacation days this year since I only worked 6 months in Norway last year) I have to admit I’m finding the change in weather more conducive to getting some work done. It feels quite a lot like it did this time last year – we had a lot of chilly rain after a period of beautiful weather.

That being said, I did take two days off this week and we drove over to see some dear friends who were spending the week on the island of Smøla. Smøla is a few hours west of Trondheim, in the neighboring county of Møre og Romsdal. It was a quick trip for us being only two days, but still really enjoyable and a nice break from the daily grind.

The last leg of the drive involves car ferry to get over to the island, and even though the ferry ride is a short twenty minutes, it was nice to be on a boat. Smøla itself is pretty flat (I think the highest point is just over 60 m / 200 ft) so I wasn’t expecting the islands we drove through on the way to have such high peaks, but I enjoyed the dramatic landscape. It definitely made me want to come back to the Nordmøre region.

We did have grey skies and rain on our first day, but Wednesday was unexpectedly clear and we were able to enjoy a bit of sunshine as well (which also made the drive home that evening much easier). The change of scenery, staying in a seaside cabin with friends, eating fresh fish, and visiting different corners of the island were all so nice. We had cake and coffee on the deck at Villsaubutikken, serenaded by a chorus of villsau sheep. Or more accurately, gammelnorsk sau (“Old Norwegian sheep”). This sheep breed is very commonly known as villsau in Norway, but that name literally means “wild sheep” and is thus a misnomer, as the Old Norwegian sheep isn’t actually wild. There were quite a few of them on Smøla, in any case.

I brought along one knitting project, a shawl I started last weekend. It’s the Prophecy Shawl by Tyne Swedish, which has been in my favorites basically since she released it, and I’m knitting it up in two gorgeous colors of yarn from Birch Hollow Fibers. I was able to make some good progress on our trip.

And a shift from the tone of the rest of this post: normally I would link to the Ravelry pattern page for the pattern, but given Ravelry’s redesign and the health hazards it has posed for many, I’m opting not to do that here (but clicking Tyne’s name above will take you to her Instagram profile at least). As for Ravelry, the rollout of the new site design has been…tough. I have so much love for the people who make that site run, but like many others, I’ve been disappointed with the response from the team to the health & accessibility issues raised by so many. While people are resistant to change, and there have been negative reactions based solely on the aesthetic choices made in the new design, the people who have spoken up about accessibility and health risks are talking about something much more serious. The decisions that have been made and the communication from the team really makes it seem like they’re not taking it seriously and that they don’t get it. Or worse, that they do get it, but they don’t care. I keep hoping that what feels like radio silence (on questions they have specifically avoided responding to in their sporadic updates) is due to furiously working behind the scenes to make corrections or to compose an apology. But the more time that passes, the smaller that hope becomes. It’s kind of heartbreaking.

I’m still using the site for now because there is nothing else like it out there, but I’ve switched to the classic view and plan to keep it that way as long as I’m able. And in the meantime, I’m thinking about possible contingency plans for pattern sales, given that many of my patterns are only available on Ravelry. I’m also thinking about accessibility in my own online spaces in a way I haven’t before. I welcome thoughts on all of these issues in the comments here, especially if anyone has specific feedback about Paper Tiger (the website or my pattern formatting), but know that if you dismiss the needs or experiences of users who are unable to use Ravelry’s new design or other web accessibility problems, that’s not going to fly.

suddenly, summer

Trondheim fjord in the summer sunshine, with sailboats on the blue water and flowering cow parsley in the foreground

Summer feels like it came out of nowhere this year. After we had several days in May of waking up to fresh snowfalls that would melt away in the afternoon, the weather turned relatively quickly. June has been hot, sunny, and dry. I’ve been swimming in the fjord once or twice a week for the past couple of weeks, which has been a real source of joy. I’ve been finding small joys wherever I can, given how much of this year has been so difficult. The coronavirus pandemic has affected everyone and it’s alarming to see infection rates continue to grow back in the US. If you’re reading this from somewhere where cases are still on the rise, I hope you’re staying safe. Additionally, the Black Lives Matter protests have been both inspiring, and in the case of the police brutality being directed at protesters, infuriating. It’s been a time of massive amounts of learning for a lot of us. At times I’ve felt overwhelmed, but I’m doing my best to work through whatever feelings I have so that I’m able to take action in the ways that I can. All if this is part of why it’s been quiet here for several weeks. But I want to come back to this space again.

A red boathouse in the sunshine fills the left side of the frame, with green grass and cow parsley growing alongside it. Trondheim fjord is visible in the background to the right under a blue sky.

My hand held up in front of a massive butterbur leaf

I’d forgotten how quickly things grow in the north in the months around the summer solstice, when night recedes so far away that there’s no real darkness. Pictured above is a massive butterbur leaf (although I prefer one of its other names, “bog rhubarb,” because I find it hilarious). Back in late April, there were little butterbur flower stems popping up all over Trondheim. There are no leaves at that point, and the little flower stems are low to the ground. But now these plants are maybe a meter and a half tall, and I can’t get over how huge the leaves are. Quite the transformation. Watching the flora change on the way into summer has been a source of joy for me as well – we arrived just before midsummer last year (June 17 marked one year in Trondheim) but now that we’re a bit more settled it’s been easier to watch the changes in real time.

A white horse grazes in a field of green grass. Wildflowers grow by a fence in the foreground and deeper green trees sit in the background.

A wild-looking rose bush with white blossoms blooms in the sunshine

The lilacs are just about done, but the roses have all started blooming now. The blossoms on our apple trees came and went and now there are tiny apples appearing. We’ve slowly been getting a kitchen garden put together as well. I started some things indoors earlier in the season and while it’s taking awhile to get things moved outside, I finally feel like we’re getting somewhere. Yesterday we assembled the little greenhouse we purchased back in March, so before too long I should actually have my tomato plants into their beds. I’m still such a novice at growing vegetables, but I’m finally not afraid of making mistakes and doing things “wrong” like I used to be – learning from experience is an excellent way to learn some things. At the very least we’ve done well with greens so far this year and have enjoyed some really delicious salads from our arugula and kale.

A birds-eye view of my planter box growing healthy kale and arugula. In my left hand I hold a jar of iced coffee, and my feet in brown leather shoes are visible at the bottom of the frame.

Orange and yellow primulas bloom in the sunshine

So I’ve been doing my best to soak it all up. I feel like these summer treats are how I’m recharging right now. I’m not getting enough sleep – the clear bright nights have been so beautiful it makes me not want to miss a thing – but I know that there’s clouds and rain on the horizon and there will be space for cozier summer days too (and a little bit more sleep).

I hope you’re keeping well, and I hope you have the headspace for a little bit of making or whatever is helping you recharge these days. We’re gonna need it.

A half-eaten lemon popsicle is held up in front of the Trondheim fjord at sunset

sewing in april

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I mentioned at the beginning of the year that I received a sewing machine for Christmas (after about four years of not having one), and that I was looking forward to getting into sewing again. January and February went right by without a stitch sewn, but by March and April the home isolation period seemed to offer the opportunity to pull my machine out and finally try sewing some garment projects. And so after a couple of weekends of sewing, I have two projects to share with you!

Before April, I last sewed a garment in 2015. I’d also had a couple of sewing experiences that year that I’d felt slightly frustrated by – having become a very proficient and knowledgeable knitter, I started to feel totally lost at sea when I came back to sewing as an adult, because I wanted to be equally proficient and knowledgeable in that skill. I first learned to sew as a little kid, and I sewed a fair bit in high school, but I wasn’t very fussy about details or finishing at that point in my life (and at that time, I was only knitting really basic scarves, so sewing felt like the more developed skill between the two). But as an adult? I was definitely thinking about details and realizing how very much I didn’t know.

So coming back to sewing this year, I really had to psych myself up before getting going on my first project. But I sewed two things in April! And I have more sewing projects lined up. So that’s excellent. I also decided to purchase the Learn to Sew Clothing online class from Closet Case Patterns, and I can absolutely say that’s been a wonderful investment. At first I felt slightly overwhelmed by the number of hours of video content available through the course – did I really need all of this? – but even though I know enough to sew basic garments, the course walks you through so much foundational knowledge, and a lot of it is exactly the kind of stuff I’ve felt like I’ve been lacking. I learned loads in the first three video lessons alone. Sometimes it’s really worth going back to basics.

But at any rate, here are the two projects I sewed in April:

Processed with VSCO with f2 presetHello, quarantine hair.

First up is the Berlin Jacket by Tessuti Fabrics. Now, I’m gonna say up front that this pattern only goes up to an XL, which is not great. (Size inclusivity* is something I’ve thought about a lot in the past year and I’m in the middle of working on expanding the size range for my own back catalogue of knitting patterns.) I would love to see Tessuti Fabrics expand the size range on this, because I know there are sewists above an XL who’d love to make it if it came in their size. I chose this pattern because I had a few meters of a boiled wool knit I’d ordered from a local shop, originally thinking I would use it for a dress – but at the last minute I decided it was probably too thick for that, and I’d do better to find something that specifically recommended boiled wool. I also wanted something that suited my re-entry level skills (in other words, simple and approachable). This pattern seemed to fit the bill on both counts.

The Berlin Jacket is kind of a coatigan, in that it’s lightweight and unlined, so it’s somewhere between a coat and a cardigan. It’s been a really nice layer for Trondheim’s spring weather, though. I cut the size medium and didn’t make any modifications. The sleeves are designed to have the cuffs flipped up, and while I do wear it that way if I’m wearing it indoors, if I wear it out on a walk (as in the photo at the top of the post) I find I prefer to have the cuffs flipped down for the extra length. At 6′ / 172 cm my arms are on the long side so extra length is always appreciated.

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Most of the seams are overlapped, so there are a lot of visible raw edges, which is why boiled wool is one of the recommended fabrics for this pattern (since it won’t fray). That meant minimal finishing, in theory, but it also meant I went back along some of those raw edges and trimmed any raggedy spots, since when I cut the pieces out I didn’t do the neatest job (I used shears, since I don’t have a rotary cutter). The heather grey is very forgiving, however, so even the edges that still aren’t that neat don’t look too bad. I’m overall really pleased with this project and it proved a nice first project to get back into the swing of things.

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Next up, I went looking through my (small) pattern library for a simple top, and discovered that I had the Tiny Pocket Tank by Grainline Studio. This is actually a discontinued pattern (I believe it was Grainline Studio’s first ever pattern), and it was replaced by the Willow Tank in 2016 (although the Willow has a slightly different silhouette and fit than the Tiny Pocket Tank). Both patterns only go up to a finished 46 3/4″ bust (to fit a 44″ bust), as far as I can see, so again the sizing is pretty limited. But again – this was making use of a pattern I already owned which was at the right skill level for me, and I liked the silhouette, so I decided to make use of it.

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I chose a mid-weight quilting cotton for this project, even if something slightly lighter might have been a better match for the pattern. I knew it would be easy to sew (and there are so many beautiful prints available) so it felt like a good choice for me. I skipped the eponymous tiny pocket, so the basic construction was dead easy – shoulder seams, side seams, and the hem was pretty simple to execute too. It was the neckline and armholes that took the longest. This pattern and the Willow both make use of bias facings, which I had never used before. I’ll readily admit to being one of those people who’s totally intimidated by bias tape, but I followed Grainline’s photo tutorial for flat bias facings, taking my time to go through every step, and it was worth it in the end. I did the neck first, which felt like it took forever, but the armholes went quicker and by the second one I didn’t have to check the tutorial anymore. If this were a solid color fabric with a contrasting thread, you’d probably be able to see that not all my seam lines are quiiiite as tidy as they could be, but in this fabric it’s totally passable and I’m really pleased with how well I managed to execute the facings overall.

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I made two modifications kind of on the fly, since I was trying it on as I went, and the fit was feeling a little weird when I got the main construction finished. The bust darts felt too low for me, and the front neckline on this pattern is notoriously on the low side as well. I ended up taking in the shoulder seams by a half inch, so the shoulder straps were shortened by 1″ in total, and I took out my shears and lowered the underarms by about a half inch as well. To be honest, I totally eyeballed that and I was a little nervous about the length of the bias strips still being right, but it all seems to have worked out okay. And after wearing the tank for a full day, I’m really pretty happy with the fit, so those adjustments seemed like a good call for me. Between the silhouette and the print, this is a garment that’s got me looking forward to summer, although I can wear it already as a layering piece. At the top of this post you can see it paired with the Berlin Jacket.

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Next up, I’ll continue with the Closet Case course, and I’m planning a project that ties in with that. When you purchase access to the course you also receive the PDF versions of the patterns from their Rome Collection, so I’m planning to sew a Fiore skirt. It will add a few more skills to the table which are technically all things I have done in the past (working with interfacing, sewing buttonholes and buttons), but the course is there to guide you through the tricky bits, and I’m eager to have that kind of guidance right now.

*If you’re not familiar with the size inclusivity discussion, I highly recommend checking out this interview Pom Pom Quarterly did with Jacqueline Cieslak, which was originally published in the magazine earlier this year. Jacqueline is amazing. You can check out her knitting patterns on Ravelry while you’re at it.

one last bit of housekeeping + signs of spring

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First up: this will be the last post before I migrate the blog to my new hosting platform, and as I can’t guarantee that the RSS feed will transfer seamlessly, that means that if you use a blog reader to subscribe to the RSS feed for the blog, you may need to update that to be able to see future posts.

If you’re a current email subscriber: luckily, I should be able to update the feed through that service, so you should continue to receive email notifications when new posts go live. That means you won’t have to do a thing! So that’s good news.

Either way, thanks so much to all of you who follow the blog. This space is first and foremost a place for myself – I have been documenting and sharing snippets of my life online for a very long time, and I enjoy being able to look back at what I’ve written in the past – but I am so grateful my musings are interesting to so many of you as well. I’m only sorry the existing comments won’t move over to the new platform with the blog posts, because there have been some lovely and interesting exchanges there over the years.

With that bit of housekeeping out of the way, I thought I’d share just a few photos of the transition to spring here in Trondheim. Spring has well and truly arriving – while we had a couple of light snows in April, they melted away quickly, and over the past week blossoms have started appearing and tiny leaves have started to pop out of the tree branches. This time of year always makes me incredibly excited.

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I’ll be back very soon with more to share. I hope you’re all keeping well.

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One piece of housekeeping before I get into this post: I was notified a few weeks ago that my web host will be shutting down by the end of May. I’ll need to migrate the entire Paper Tiger website to a new platform, which will take me some time. I’ll be moving to WordPress over the course of the next two months. If you’re an email subscriber of this blog (or if you use a blog reader), unfortunately I’ll have no way to transfer that email list, but I will give you some warning before I make the final transfer. The website will still be paper-tiger.net, but links to other pages will be changing. So I anticipate some hiccups, as I’ll need to update links to blog posts or tutorial pages in a whole long list of places: pattern PDFs, YouTube video descriptions, and so on. So I hope you’ll bear with me through that process and forgive any bumps in the road. Now, on to the post…

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Hello, all. I hope you’re as well as can be. The COVID-19 pandemic has turned life upside down for us all, and it’s a strange time to… well, to do much of anything. The Norwegian prime minister held a press conference on Thursday, March 12, announcing a number of initial measures they were taking to try to slow the spread, including closing schools and universities and instituting the social distancing policy we’re all now familiar with. March 12 was the first day I decided to work from home, and the press conference came as a relief, to know the government was taking the threat seriously and once they decided to take action, it was swift. My physical university campus is effectively shut down now, and employees have been instructed to work from home if they can. Looking at the calendar, today’s day 11 of isolation/social distancing/shelter-in-place/whatever your terminology. I’ve been out for walks at least every other day, and to the grocery store once, but otherwise, my partner and I are just home. There have been ups and downs, as you might expect, but overall we feel very lucky – lucky to be where we are (in this house, in this country), to not be worried about our jobs or work for the moment, to be able to go outside. We’re incredibly fortunate. We’re also worried about friends who have already lost their jobs, whose livelihoods are threatened. We’ve only seen the beginning of what this whole thing will bring.

It’s hard to know what to do to help, but I’ve been doing my best to support small businesses, both local and further afield. Even though I’ve been eager to knit from my stash this year (and I still am), I’ve been buying yarn I had no plans on buying a month ago. Buying patterns. Buying music on Bandcamp. Buying books. And feeling grateful to be able to lend that kind of support in some small way.

I find it hard to work on my academic work at the moment, and those I work with have been very understanding. I am getting some work done, but I’m trying to be gentle with myself too. And when it  all becomes too much, I knit. Or bake. Keeping my hands busy helps with the anxiety.

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I hope you’re taking care of yourself and your loved ones as well as you can. I hope you’re taking social distancing seriously, but I also hope you’re able to get outside and take in some fresh air when you can. It’s difficult to try and find a balance right now, but do your best – connect with others using the means we have available, but take a step away and take some time for yourself when you need to. This is a really emotionally complex time. People lives are at stake. If you’re part of the high risk group, take extra care. We’re all in this together. xx

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