Knitting a Pair of Sparkly Seasalt Socks
Hello friends,
Yes, I've been knitting socks again. As the days grow colder, I'm always drawn to cosy things, and right near the top of that list are hand-knitted socks to keep my feet warm throughout winter. I seem to have developed a rather bad habit of buying more sock yarn than I have time to knit, which means there's always another pair of socks waiting to be cast on.
In this case, the yarn had been waiting patiently in my stash since 2024, when I bought a 100 g skein of Belladonna, a sparkly 4-ply sock yarn from Dye Studio 54, at the 45° Fibre Festival in Gore. Made up of 70% Merino, 20% nylon, and 10% silver Stellina sparkle, I was immediately drawn to the rich purple tones and silver sparkles, and knew it would eventually become a pair of winter socks.
Wanting to try something new, I pulled out a knitting pattern that had been sitting in my collection for a while, the Seasalt Socks by Maya Macdonald from The Wool Barn Knits. I love the subtle texture of the pattern, and thought it would work beautifully with the semisolid colour of the Belladonna yarn. With the pattern and yarn finally paired together, it was time to cast on and enjoy some cosy autumnal knitting.
It didn't take very long to knit the socks once I had figured out the pattern. The trickiest part was working the gusset decreases while keeping the textured instep pattern flowing correctly, but after quite a bit of scribbling on paper, calculations, and writing everything out line by line, I eventually managed to make it work with the help of hubby.
With the socks all finished, I'm happy to say that they are wonderfully comfortable to wear. Even with the silver sparkle running through the yarn, they are beautifully soft and perfect for keeping my feet cosy on cold winter days.
I'm really enjoying these socks every time I wear them. The little flashes of silver sparkle never fail to amuse me, and they've been keeping my feet cosy throughout winter so far. For now though, I think I'll be taking a break from knitting socks and spending some time working on some of my other crafts. Besides, it's not as if I don't already have a mountain of spinning and other creative projects patiently waiting for their turn!
Have a wonderful day,
Julie-Ann
If you'd like to continue the conversation, you can find me on Instagram, Mastodon, Bluesky, and Facebook.
I'd love to hear what you're knitting, making, or creating this winter.
The Sweet Pea Project: Sowing the Seeds for a New Gardening Year
Hello friends,
Although the garden may seem quiet in the middle of winter, now is the time when preparation for the next growing season begins. For me, July is peak sweet pea sowing season, and I always save this job for cold, rainy days when it's too wet to work outside. Sweet peas prefer germinating in cooler temperatures, so sowing them in winter gives them the best chance of producing armfuls of fragrant blooms in late spring and early summer.
Sweet peas have always been a favourite of mine ever since childhood, when my grandfather used to grow them in his back garden. Their fragrance would drift through the backyard during the warmer months, and ever since then I've dreamed of having a dedicated sweet pea patch of my very own.
Until recently though, I simply didn't have the space in my garden to do this. That changed last summer when our old lilac tree finally succumbed to the damage it suffered during last year's big spring storm. Once the tree had been removed, a section of the backyard fence opened up to full sun from early morning until late afternoon, creating the perfect place for a sweet pea patch. With the space finally available, it seems like now is the perfect time to turn a long-held dream into a reality. So let's begin, and I'll show you the little patch of garden where this year's sweet pea project will take shape.
My sweet pea patch will run along the western side of our backyard, beside the boundary fence that used to sit in permanent shade beneath the old lilac tree. This section of fence line is approximately four metres long, providing plenty of room for this new project. My plan is to install metal mesh along the fence, and let the sweet peas scramble their way upward, hopefully filling the space with flowers and fragrance throughout spring and summer.
With the growing area planned, it was finally time to pull out my sweet pea seed collection, and decide which varieties to grow. Over the years I've accumulated a large collection of sweet pea seed, so narrowing down the choices was no easy task. In the end, I settled on a collection of mostly Keith Hammett varieties, along with a few other favourites, and some homegrown seed collected from my own garden, all selected for their beautiful colours and sweet fragrance.
The varieties I chose and sowed were:
- 23 × Hammett Blue Butterflies
- 15 × Hammett Blue Shift
- 10 × Hammett Blue Reflections
- 15 × Hammett Brilliant Fragrance
- 10 × Hammett Burlesque
- 15 × Hammett's Surprise
- 2 × Hammett Licorice
- 6 × Hammett NZ Gardener
- 10 × Hammett Somewhere
- 15 × Hammett Sapphire
- 9 × Hammett Triple G
- 10 × Hammett Turquoise Lagoon
- 25 × Homegrown seeds from my garden
- 10 × Nimbus
- 10 × Swan Lake
- 10 × Sweet Pea Original
In total, I sowed 195 sweet pea seeds, which should provide a beautiful mixture of blues, purples, smoky pinks, bi-colours, and wonderfully fragrant blooms over the coming spring and summer.
Although 195 sweet pea seeds may seem like a lot, some of the seed packets were older, and experience has taught me that not every seed will germinate. The seeds were sown into seed-raising mix that had been sieved to remove large stones and wood chips, before being placed into four 50-cell seed trays.
After sowing, the seed trays were watered well, and placed onto shelving in my glasshouse. The shelving is covered with some shade cloth, which helps protect the emerging seedlings from strong sunlight, and it also prevents them from drying out too quickly.
There is always something so hopeful about seed sowing. In the depths of winter, seeds are a reminder that spring is never too far away, and that every gardening year begins with the promise of new life.
For now, the sweet peas are sown, and the waiting begins...
Have a wonderful day
Julie-Ann
If you'd like to continue the conversation, you can find me on Instagram, Mastodon, Bluesky, and Facebook.
I'd love to hear what you're growing, making, or enjoying in your own garden.
Tour de Fleece 2026: Rediscovering My Fibre Stash
Hello friends,
And welcome back to my blog after a couple of weeks away. It was lovely to have a chance to rest and recharge while on holiday, but with July comes the start of another Tour de Fleece, and the opportunity to spend some time rediscovering my fibre stash, and enjoying some cosy spinning time while the weather is cold outside.
Now, I don't know about you, but I have quite a large fibre stash. Over the years since learning to spin, I've picked up fibre and fleeces from online shopping, in-person stores, craft events, and even from friends who kindly bring treasures home for me from fibre festivals. Somehow, fibre always seems to find its way into my stash, and despite my best efforts, it seems to accumulate much faster than I can spin it into yarn.
With all this in mind, I decided that this year I wasn't going to buy any more fibre for Tour de Fleece 2026, but instead shop my stash. I opened the wardrobe in my craft room and began pulling out boxes and containers until I found one filled with fibre, ready to be rediscovered.
After spending some time sorting through the box, and exploring the fibre within, I finally settled on a plan for Tour de Fleece 2026. These are the fibres I've chosen to spin during this year's Tour.
This first project is 300 g of natural brown Romney lambswool from Duncraig. I originally bought it as an unwashed fleece, and at some point over the years I washed it and carded it into batts on my Ashford wide drum carder. It's been sitting patiently in my stash for a couple of years, and Tour de Fleece seems like the perfect opportunity to finally spin it into yarn.
Next up are two batts from Dark Harbour Yarn in the colourways Big-Eared Woolly and Wrinkle-Lipped Free-Tailed. These batts are made up of Corriedale, Merino, silk noil, and Tencel, and I couldn't resist bringing them home with me from Unwind 2026 back in March.
Also making an appearance this year is a Corriedale batt called Tequila Sunrise from Deep Creek Woolworks. I picked this batt up at Unwind 2026 in March as well, and its warm, vibrant colours were simply too beautiful to leave sitting in the stash any longer.
Tucked away at the bottom of the box was an unknown amount of a 50/50 Merino and alpaca blend left over from a previous project. Back when I lived in Wellington, one of my husband's workmates gave me some raw alpaca fleece. After washing the fleece, I blended it with 50% Merino fibre and carded it together on my drum carder. I then dyed the fibre in aurora-inspired colours and handspun it into yarn for a Southern Skies shawl. This small amount of fibre is what remained after the project was finished.
And finally, I unearthed various odds and ends of Merino fibre in shades of purple that I dyed many years ago, along with a bag of silver Angelina sparkle fibre. Thinking the two might work well together, I pulled out my drum carder and blended them into a sparkly purple batt. I have no idea what this fibre will eventually become, but I suspect it will be something fun.
I dusted off my camera and filmed the process of blending this sparkly purple batt together. There's something rather satisfying about watching colourful fibres transform into a finished batt, so if you'd like to see the process, you can watch the short video below.
So, with my Tour de Fleece fibre choices finally made, all that remains is to sit down at the spinning wheel and begin. There is something rather satisfying about rediscovering forgotten treasures hidden away in my stash, and giving them their turn to become yarn.
I'm looking forward to many cosy hours of spinning over the coming weeks, and I'm excited to see what these fibres become along the way. Whether I manage to spin everything or not, I know I'll enjoy the journey.
Have a wonderful day,
Julie-Ann
If you'd like to continue the conversation, you can find me on Instagram, Mastodon, Bluesky, and Facebook.
I'd love to hear what you're spinning, making, or creating this winter.
Saving Dahlia and Zinnia Seeds for Next Season
Hello friends,
Over late summer and early autumn, I spent many happy hours collecting seeds from the dahlias in my garden, and from the Floret zinnia varieties growing in my zinnia patch.
This year, my focus was on saving seeds from as many collarette and anemone dahlias as possible, along with seeds from some of my favourite seedling dahlias from this season. There's always something hopeful about saving dahlia seeds. Unlike tubers, the seedlings won't grow true to their parents, and that's part of the magic. Every seed has the potential to produce something completely new, making each growing season full of anticipation and surprises.
The process of saving dahlia seeds takes a little time and patience. Once a flower has finished and the petals have fallen, the waiting begins. Not every flower produces a good seed head, so I watch carefully for those that develop into plump, full seed heads.
Once I find one, I mark it with a piece of flagging tape and leave it on the plant to mature. Depending on the weather, this can take anywhere from a couple of weeks to a month. As the seed head ripens, it gradually turns a mid to dark brown colour, becomes dry and crunchy to the touch, and the outer sepals begin to pull back, revealing the inner parts of the seed head.
At this stage, I remove the seed heads from the dahlia plant and place them in an open container labelled with the variety name. I then gently break up the seed heads by hand to increase the airflow around the seeds. As the seed head falls apart, the dahlia seeds begin to separate from the chaff, and I leave everything together in the container to dry for a couple of weeks.
Once the seed heads are completely dry, it's time to separate the dahlia seeds from the chaff. Fortunately, the chaff is both larger and lighter than the seeds, which makes the job a little easier.
There are a number of ways to do this. One method is simply to shake the container, allowing the heavier seeds to settle to the bottom while the chaff sits on top. Another option is to winnow the crushed seed heads on a windy day, or in front of a fan. The heavier seeds drop into a waiting container, while the lighter chaff blows away. A third method is to use a soil sieve, which screens out the larger pieces of chaff while allowing the seeds to fall through.
Most of the time I use the first method, as I've found that viable dahlia seeds can sometimes remain attached to the chaff. If I wasn't paying attention, it would be all too easy to throw away perfectly good seeds.
Before I begin, I make sure the seed heads are crushed up as much as possible. I then gently shake the container from side to side, allowing the heavier seeds to settle to the bottom while the chaff rises to the top. As I remove the chaff, I quickly check it for any viable seeds that are still attached and carefully pry them off by hand.
It takes a little extra time, but I'd rather spend a few extra minutes cleaning the seeds than accidentally lose some future potential favourite dahlia varieties.
Once all of this is done, I pop the dahlia seeds into labelled paper seed envelopes. I like to include the dahlia variety, the flower type, whether the seed was open or closed pollinated, the pollen parent (if I know it), and the date the seed was collected.
With everything labelled and safely stored away, the seeds are tucked away until spring, when the whole process begins again. One of the things I love most about growing dahlias from seed is that each seed holds the possibility of something completely new, and I can't help but wonder what surprises next season will bring.
My approach with the Floret zinnias in my zinnia patch (Precious Metals, Unicorn and Blush) was a little different. Rather than selecting individual plants, my aim was simply to collect as many viable seeds as possible from across the patch.
Because Floret zinnia seeds were only available in New Zealand for one season in 2024, I have no way of purchasing more seed. If I want these beautiful varieties to remain part of my summer garden, seed saving is really my only option.
Thankfully, zinnias are generous plants, and with a little effort I hope to carry these favourites forward for many summers to come.
Last spring, I sowed all of the remaining Floret zinnia seeds I had in storage and grew them on through the season. By late January the first flowers were appearing, and I began saving seed in February.
Fortunately, many of the plants set seed well, and before long I had collected trays of mature brown seed heads. Then, in April, just before our first decent frost, I harvested as many flower heads that had begun setting seed as possible, hoping that some of them would continue to mature and provide a few extra seeds as well.
With Floret zinnias no longer available, I was keen to make the most of every opportunity to save seed and carry these beautiful varieties forward into future summers.
The process for collecting zinnia seeds is pretty much the same as with the dahlia seeds. I allow the seed heads to dry out completely before gently crushing them by hand. The seeds naturally fall to the bottom, and I use the same shaking method to separate them from the chaff.
One of the interesting things about zinnias is that they produce two different types of seeds. Seeds from the ray flowers are larger and rounder in shape, while the seeds from the disk flowers are much smaller and narrower. Some growers believe that the larger ray flower seeds are self-pollinated, while the smaller disk flower seeds are more open-pollinated, producing different flowers in the next generation. I haven't found any definitive evidence for this, though.
As I've collected both seed types, it would be easy enough to grow them separately and see what happens. Perhaps that's a future Crafty Gardener project waiting to happen...but that's a story for another growing season.
Overall, I managed to harvest over half a margarine container full of Floret zinnia seeds. They are now safely stored away, waiting patiently for spring and another season in the garden.
Both dahlia and zinnia seed saving have taken up a lot of my time throughout autumn and now into early winter, but I have many seed packets safely stored away ready for sowing in spring.
Winter has arrived, and although it is often thought of as a quieter time in the garden, I know there is still much to do. There is tidying and weeding to tackle, dahlia tubers to dig up, and a new back garden project waiting in the wings.
This will be my last blog post for the next fortnight. My husband and I have a medieval-themed wedding to attend (which means we finally get to wear our new cloaks!), and afterwards we're taking a short holiday to relax after a busy growing season.
So, until then, I'll wish you all a happy winter solstice. I'll see you again in July, at the beginning of a new gardening year, and the start of another season of stories.
Have a wonderful day
Julie-Ann
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