J'ai tricoté au Tour de France

Which is my high school French attempt at saying, "I have knitted at the Tour de France." Here is a picture of what I was knitting, a cell phone (or "handy" as they say here in Germany) sock. I'm making it out of wool and silk tweed yarn, using a US size 3 Skacel Addi lace knitting needle and "magic loop" method. Why? Because 1) I kept running out of minutes on my cellphone while it was in my purse and it would get hit on this or that button and dial whatever number without my knowledge, 2) it was the first yarn I picked up and hurriedly packed away before I went to bed last night, 3) and we were going to be sitting there waiting for hours before the bicyclists would whiz by.  Unfortunately, the deep aubergine color (note, I use French for "eggplant") does not show up well in this light. At least the needles show up somewhat (I bought them at the Unraveled Yarn shop back in Federal Way, WA--I also think I might have bought the yarn there, too).

Happy Independence Day - and the Tour de France

Happy Independence Day, all you United States citizens, wherever you may be.

I'm feeling this day more than usual, as I'm not in the States, and I do miss it. On this day at home, we'd be hearing fireworks shot off here and there, sometimes even starting the day before. John would be suddenly seized with a bit of pyromania and have gone on a trip off to the fireworks stand to load up on explosives. I would be fixing something to be prepared on the grill, while our friends would be doing the same. We would often get together with our long-time friends, the Thompsons, and pool our food and our fireworks in a display of gustatory and pyrotechnic indulgence.

Waterloo

You may imagine the excitement I felt when John told me that there was the opportunity on June 20th to see a reenactment of the Battle of Waterloo--at Waterloo in Belgium! He told me this last week, but I didn't mention this on my blog, or e-mail about it to any of my friends (other than the local ones who were going along), just in case mentioning it might jinx it. Yes, that's how anxious and excited I was to attend this once-every-five-years event.

It meant that we had to get up at an ungodly hour of the morning (for me, anyway), get ready, and be at the place where the tour bus would pick us up. The bus would leave at 6:30 am, so we had to be there before that time. But heck, this was research! I would of course get up at 5 am to attend such a marvelous event, no complaints. I already had our lunch packed the night before, and was ready to go, and then the doorbell rang when our ride to the bus (Doug and Anna) arrived.

Castle Hoensbroek - 17th and 18th Century portion

Back to the castle....

I felt considerable relief when we entered the later portions of the castle. I should mention that you first enter the modern portion, and then go into the medieval part. You can see that here:

The drawbridge that goes into the castle goes into the modern part first. In this picture, you can see the drawbridge, and to the right is the cylindrical medieval tower.

In the courtyard, there are various items from the daily life of the castle, with the exception of the cannon. ☺

I find it interesting that clothes were hung up on poles instead of on clotheslines, but it makes sense. Clotheslines would involve the mass production of clothespins, and hanging clothes on ropes instead of putting the poles through the clothes' armholes would risk the chance of the clothes flying off in the wind. Although I suppose one could thread the rope through the clothes' armholes.  Still, it wouldn't be as stable as poles.

You see the same thing indoors:

The servant girl you see in this picture is dressed in clothes from the 1660's. I assume the piece of furniture on the left is a clothes press, perhaps something to press the wet from the clothes or sheets. Yet...wouldn't that mess up the wood? Make it warp? It seemed to be a fine piece of furniture, so perhaps it was used when the clothes or sheets were dry. Hmm. It would be interesting to see how it actually works.  It looks similar to a printing press, doesn't it?  From what I understand, the basic design for the printing press came from clothes presses.


From the looks of the cannon, I doubt it dates from any earlier than the mid-1700's. I could be wrong but the barrel's too sophisticated for medieval engineering. I admit I don't know much about artillery, but my gut feeling is that this is certainly not medieval, it is muzzle-loading, and was moved via an attachment to a horse's harness. My feeling is that it's from the 1700's at the earliest. My brother Allen would probably know for sure.

Here's the lovely staircase to the upper floors of the castle:

I love the carpet on the stairs. The Hoensbroek family ancestors line the stairwell all the way to the top. The paintings range from approximately the early 1700's to the late 1800's.












Here are pictures of two different bedrooms.  The bed in the first one dates--I believe--from the 17th century:

The clothes in the last one date from the 1700's, I'd say around the 1770s.

Now here's a lovely scene: It's the castle drawing room, with one of the ladies at the harpsichord. The clothes date from approximately 1760 to 1770. The portrait of the lady, however, is from the mid to late 1600's.







This tapestry was in one of the dining rooms:

It seems to represent an exotic Asian countryside. The bird in it, however, is too fantastical for me to identify. :-D I couldn't help notice it, however, having been trained to notice such things by my mother, the expert tailor. Here is a detail of it--beautiful work:

Oh, and the people of these times grew perhaps a little, but they're still not as tall as people these days. Here is John next to one of the doorways.

John is 6 foot 3 inches, as a comparison; he's standing heels against the wall. You'd have to be shorter than 6 feet to go through these doors without ducking.











We then went into a room that was clearly the castle's version of the Man Cave, i.e., the Game Room. The guns are flintlocks--rifles and muskets.

There were various animals taxidermically displayed (birds as well as mammals) in various poses, but I don't think we took pictures of them. Just as well, as some of them were rather dramatic and alarming, such as a stoat snarling at an attacking falcon.

We went up another flight of stairs, this time to the rafters, where the bell clock was kept. Below  is the clock that regulated the chiming of the bells.

It's an amazing piece of machinery that still works to this day (and yes, we did hear the chiming of the hour, which was very loud).

Most every castle has a family chapel. To the right  is the Hoensbroek family one.

Though both Germany and the Netherlands are considered predominantly Protestant countries (Lutheran, though very few actually go to church on a regular basis), there are pockets of the population that are heavily Roman Catholic. The eastern part of the Netherlands and the western part of Germany seem to be strongly Catholic. The Hoensbroek castle chapel is clearly Catholic, complete with crucifix and holy water at the entrance of the chapel. The place is beautifully decorated...even the ceiling!

We decided we wanted a bite to eat before leaving, and went down to the cellar/restaurant, but unfortunately, they were closed. However, we did get a picture of the interesting interior.

Those implements with the jagged edges were used to adjust the height of pots above the fire, to regulate how much heat each pot received.

I just thought the arched construction was rather nifty. :-D

We left the castle after that, and I have to say I was throughly satisfied by our outing. I hope to go to more castles, in as many countries as I can.

Castle Hoensbroek - medieval portion

It's been a few weeks since we've gone to it (April 17th, to be exact), but I have to mention Castle Hoensbroek, in the Netherlands. John and I decided to take a break from getting our house in order--getting furniture, putting our bed and dining table and chairs together, etc., and do some actual touristy stuff.

John, bless his heart, didn't tell me that we were going to a castle. A real castle! I was so freakin' excited. The day was beautiful, and it actually decided to warm up a bit after the bitter cold of March and early April; the roundabouts along the highway showed bright yellow daffodils and red tulips. Hoensbroek is not that far from the little town of Susterseel, Germany, where we live to the Netherlands--it would take me less than a fifteen minute walk to cross the border. The castle, however, is a bit farther out:


View Larger Map


A 20-minute drive, max, about the time it'd take to drive from home to Tacoma.

That just blows my mind. Just a short drive to get to some real, amazing history, I mean a castle for God's sake!!! This is not Disney, people! It's medieval! With a moat! With water in it!

Words simply do not come close to describing how thrilled I was, and so I won't even bother, because, damn! A castle! Now I'm in Europe for sure, I thought.

There is no way one could pass the castle on the street and not see it. It's easy to see the spires from a mile or so away. So we came up to it, and parked in the parking lot, and I had to get a good shot of the whole thing before I ever went in it.



Oh, it doesn't look that large from this side...but there's another whole big piece of it on the other side. There are two sections; this side, which is the oldest section, completely surrounded by the moat, and before you can enter it, you have to cross two drawbridges, first through the newer part (picture on the right).

And then through the older part:

Just to get a better idea of the orientation, below is a picture of John standing at the entrance of the first drawbridge. You can see the second drawbridge through the arch behind him.

Upon going across the first drawbridge and through the first arch, I felt so overwhelmed, I almost wept. Yes, yes, that sounds silly, but I really did. I was there, experiencing a very, very old piece of history. It had been a dream of mine ever since I was a child to visit Europe and see real castles. It didn't hit me until then that here I was, doing it at last. Weird, huh? I'd stayed in Geilenkirchen for more than a month, and that's an old city itself. I could see how old the buildings were there.

I suppose it's because Germany and the Netherlands is also modern, with pretty much every modern convenience. They even have Safeway-like grocery stores, and dollar stores (I guess I should say, Euro stores), cell phones (they call them "handies" here), computers, the Internet--all of it. I caught traces of medieval architecture here and there as we traveled around the countryside looking for a house to rent--there is even a castle tower in the town of Gangelt that is privately owned and in which a family still lives. You can see parts of the castle wall that is now part of someone's garden wall.

But it just didn't hit me until I saw this castle.

The first archway opened up into a huge courtyard. A flash of horses and grooms holding their bridles came to me, taking the horses into the far building (opposite the oldest part of the castle). I could imagine it, how the lord of the castle might dismount and hand the reins to the groom or stable boy who'd run up as soon as he'd enter.

Whether that happened in that particular spot, I don't know; there's no information on it that I can find. But that's okay--I'll just let my imagination fill it all in. ;-)

I understood from the pamphlet that there were more than a few parts to this castle--the dates of construction went from the 13th century to the 18th. We went through a small portion of the later part, but John hurried me through these to the medieval portion, and I didn't demur, as I thought I'd like to see that first.

But...I don't know what it was, but as soon as I stepped into the tower, I began to feel sick to my stomach. Now, I'm not claustrophobic, and in fact I rather like cosy closed-in places. Plus, the first room was not at all small, or at least, no smaller than the bathroom in our house. Well, I'm a writer, and I write historicals, and nothing was going to keep me from exploring this tower, because this was research, damn it! So I gritted my teeth and took out my camera, determined to take as many pictures as possible.

Of course, I had to take a picture of armor.

You'll see the armor as soon as you enter the medieval portion of the castle.

Then there are the other levels...but before you go to them, you need to go up these extremely narrow stairs. Now, I'm not a tall person, 5' 3" max. But there was no way I could go up these stairs without occasionally having to duck my head and pull in my elbows.

This tower was used as defense against enemies. Now, that armor above is no taller than I. If I went up those stairs without armor, having to bend my head down and banging my elbows against the stairwell wall, I do not see how someone with armor could have done it in any speedy manner, if at all. At most, I would suppose that if a knight had to go up these stairs, he would have to go up them with chain maille at most, and no helmet.

So if you ever write of a knight going up in a tower, do not have him run up in armor. No way, no how. He could go up in a quick pace--not running--with the minimum of body protection.

However, the narrowness of the stairs does point to strategic defense. Let's say you pack away a lot of provisions in that tower (that is possible, as there are fireplaces) and the enemy entered the castle. Reinforcements were coming. But then the enemy has entered the tower...

Trust me when I say that there is no way more than one person can go up those stairs. It would be so very easy to grab a spear and skewer a non-armored soldier, and kick him down the stairs, and if there was anyone behind him, they'd all go tumbling down or at best be stuck. If there were more than a few armed defenders in that tower, they could take turns skewering all night until the reinforcements came.

To the right is an interesting hole in the castle wall:

I was told that this is where archers would shoot their arrows, but I have to say I'm not sure how an archer (whether longbow or crossbow) would be able to aim well through this, or how he would be able to position himself so that an arrow could be shot through it. My conclusion is that not a lot of aiming was involved, and that archers generally poked that arrow through the hole and shot, hoping it would hit someone.

Now a rifle or a musket--well, I can see aiming one of those through that hole, and I expect that might well have happened during the 1600s on up.


Below is a fireplace (you could cook food in there if necessary).

To the left, a toilet:













And below is the tower rooftop:

Now this is where you could probably do the most damage: if a lit arrow managed to lodge itself into the roof and caught the timbers on fire, it would most definitely fall and cause a lot of damage, especially on the wooden floor below. However, the exterior roof looks to be slate or other form of rock, so the chances of getting a flaming arrow through that was probably slim. It might be possible for a cannon (in the 1400's) to blast away at the roof and thereby bring down the timbers, but if you note the earlier pictures, you'll see that the tower is round (cylindrical), as is the roof. This does not make for a good target, as the tendency would be for the cannonball to roll or deflect off the relatively small surface area.

Oh, and here I am, climbing up to the very top of the castle tower. I'm smiling, but there are gritted teeth beneath that smile, as I am feeling nauseated.

And then we went back down, this time to the dungeon:

Here is the dungeon itself:

After looking at this dungeon, I would think it'd be unnecessary for anyone to be tortured to extract information (unless it was needed quickly). There is no sconce in which a torch or candle may be set; the window is a tiny thing that may let in some light, but barely, and certainly there is no way anyone could see anything through it, let alone make a jailbreak. Though the room has the size and height comparable to a modern bedroom, enough for a large, modern-day man to stretch out when laying down, it's clearly cold and damp. It's silent--there is no noise that penetrates from the outside, none that I could hear, anyway. The thick-timbered door might let in a loud sound, but it'd be muffled at best.

It's essentially the medieval form of sensory deprivation.

It's possible to turn the lights out in this room (there's electricity to it), and when we did, even though it was a bright sunny day outside, only a vague gray illuminated the interior. I doubt any prisoner would know whether it was full daylight or a cloudy day, but I would venture to say it'd be doubtful whether you could tell much difference between night and day. You couldn't tell what the seasons were--perhaps it might be colder during the winter. Stay in this place for a couple of weeks, maybe months...well, it'd be a strong-minded person who didn't go just a little crazy.

It was with considerable relief that I left the dungeon and the medieval portion...and oddly, as soon as I stepped into the door into 17th century area, my nausea disappeared. Curious, I stepped back into the tower--nausea again. I stepped out--none.

Hmm.

Along the Green River

I decided to drive out into the countryside for a few hours; it was a beautiful day, hardly a cloud in the sky, and temperatures in the upper 70 degrees F. I live just up the hill from the Kent/Auburn valley, through which courses the Green River, made notorious by the Gary Ridgway, the Green River Killer. In truth, his depredations only touched the river a few times, but he was given the name because of the first few bodies found near the river.

But this 65-mile river has a history much longer and more pleasant than this, and the road that meanders next to that river goes through some lovely pastoral landscapes, dotted with farms and more than a few palatial houses. Near Christmas, my husband and I make our yearly trek along the Green Valley Road to the Christmas tree farm to choose our tree, bundle it onto the truck, and drive triumphantly home with our winter catch. It's a lovely drive during the winter. More than a few times, I've seen signs next to the entrance of one farm or another, and I've wanted to see what they had to offer, but of course few if any vegetables are in season in December, and so we pass them by.

This time, however, the hubby was out motorcycling with his dad, and I decided to skip church and get to know Divine Creation from another perspective. Much inspired to listen to country music because of Kevin Skinner's YouTube audition, I turned the radio to the local country station, and headed out.

I went along the Auburn-Black Diamond road for a bit, until I saw the intersection of Green Valley Road. You can see a map of Green Valley Road here:


View Larger Map

You can see the river just as you turn onto Green Valley Road; today I saw a number of cars and trucks just past the intersection, where I suspect more than a few fishermen and women were casting out lures into the water. I don't know what the fishing is like , but since I see more than a few cars and trucks parked there whenever I've passed by, I suspect it must be at least promising.

I passed by Green Valley Meats, making a mental note that I must stop by there on my way back, because they have some of the best smoked meats around, and other more exotic cuts of meat, such as buffalo and elk, at quite affordable prices. They're a butcher and smoked meat shop, but they are well supplied with any picnic goods you might want if you and your family decide to take a day trip into the country or local national park. I also noticed they have large inner tubes available, no doubt for rent to go inner tubing down the river. They don't have a web site so far as I can tell, but the link above will take you to a site where people's reviews are spot on. I cannot say enough about their cuts of meat, and God only knows how many varieties of jerky and pepperoni they have. They are locally and family owned, and I mention this especially because I like to promote local businesses and farms expecially if they offer superb goods at a decent price. One warning, though! It is totally possible, especially if you're a "foodie" like me and like to cook, to run up a hefty bill in a short time. As I passed by, I made a pledge to myself not to go over $50 when I stop there.

My first stop is a few miles farther on, at Mosby Brothers Farm:

I've been there before, and they have very nice produce in season. They supplement their own produce with item from outside the state, and they also feature some goods from other farms and home-based businesses in the area. I noticed that they had a good set of bottled preserves made from their own produce, but this time I didn't pick up any.

I also noticed that they had some blueberry jam from Canter Berry farms just down the road. I have seen that farm more than a few times on the way to our yearly Christmas tree hunt, and have always wanted to see what it was like and what they had to offer. I bought a lemon (always good to sprinkle on Swiss chard, my new favorite) and some cibatta bread and went on my way.

The speed limit is not that fast--25 to 40 mph, depending on what stretch of road you're on--so I had ample time to flick my gaze to either side of the road, watching for any signs of fresh produce or any other goods that might be available at a farm, as well as signs of any bicyclists who are doing their own private version of the Tour de France, except I suppose it might be the Tour de Auburn. The road is not very wide, so I'm careful to look out for them. Some years ago, a bicycle trail was proposed to go through various farmlands, which was met with much opposition from the farmers there. Since apparently no compensation was going to be given to the farmers for the loss of arable land (some of the most fertile in the world), and they'd still have to pay taxes on land they could no longer use, I can't imagine why King County thought everyone would be hunky dory about it. Hmm, let's see, growing food and trying to make a living wage vs. people biking through your land. Which would you choose?

As a result of my careful driving, some signs caught my eye, and most notably the word "YARN" stood out, as well as "LAVENDER" and "MARIONBERRIES." These appealed to both my foodie senses as well as my fiber art heart, so I eagerly looked for an entrance to what must be a magical place. To my delight, I found the small entrance to Edeldal Farm, which is the home of Little House Rugs. Dolls decorate the area between the marionberry bushes, giving the entrance a sort of fairy-tale feel.

Though Judy Taylor's little Little House Rugs storefront is essentially half of her two-car garage, it is chock full of goodies, such as her lovely rugs (see picture to the right), yarn, fiber dyes, books, and felted items; there is something a little magical about all this colorful fiber-art goodness in a neat, compact space. Though her work focuses on rug hooking, she is also a spinner, and it was so enjoyable to serendipitously find and talk to a fellow fiber artist. She is a young, slight woman with a pretty complexion and smiling eyes (I seem to be noticing complexions lately, I don't know why), and I felt quite welcome to browse her shop at my leisure. I admired her yarn she had for sale, and marveled that it was so soft, as I had always thought Jacob sheep fleece was coarse in texture.

She hand dyed her soft pretty yarn herself, and has three spinning wheels! I have only one--well, two if I count the one I gave to my mother, which she doesn't use. I bought some fiber dye (purple!), and when she brought my attention to the marionberries, I could not resist and bought a pint of those as well. As it was, I was glad to have them, as I had not any lunch yet and had only brought a peach with me to eat (with plenty of napkins--yes, it was one those juicy sweet Washington peaches I bought yesterday). The dye was different from the kind I usually buy (Jacquard Acid Dyes), but they were a very good price for the amount of dye in the bottle.

I could not resist taking pictures of some of the things she has to offer at her shop, and when I went to her website tonight, I saw that she has so much more to offer than what she had in her little store. I don't know if you can click to enlarge the photo on the right, but if you can and do, you will not only be able to see some of her very nice hats and purses, but a reflection of her quilt in the mirror.

I will definitely have to go to Little House Rugs/ Edeldal Farm again. I enjoyed chatting with Judy, and with luck she'll have a blog up soon, as I talked with her about how to set one up at Blogger or Wordpress. Such creativity in her fiber arts as well as her lavender work must overflow in words as well--or at least, I hope it does. I didn't tell her about Ravelry, as I didn't think about that until I left, but I will no doubt e-mail her about it later.

I reluctantly left Judy's place (I'm sure I could have spent at least another half hour there) as I wanted to finish my little trip before 2:30 pm, as I had a Chrysalis closure to go to for a young woman I'd known since she was a child. A few miles down the road is Canter-Berry Farms, the blueberry farm that produces the blueberry jam I wanted. It's a lovely place, dominated by a very old barn, built in 1879. This may not seem very old to those on the East Coast, I'm sure, but it is pretty old out here. Clarissa Metzler Cross, one of the owners, says that when she and her husband decided to use and remodel the barn, they found a post that had the date etched into it. She is a slim, athletic-looking woman, perhaps about my own age, who had just come in from farther out in the farm to get a drink, and found that she had a few people come in to see her blueberry goods. Fortuitous timing!

The reason why her place is called "Canter-Berry" Farm is because they have American Saddlebred horses as well as blueberries there. It's clear Clarissa loves those horses, and it shows in the number of awards they've recieved. She has quite a few pictures of them in her shop--I don't know much about horses (though I'm fascinated by them), but even I can see they truly are beautiful animals. We had an enjoyable chat about the horses and her blueberries, and I complemented her on the lovely grounds around the shop--very pretty!

Being the foodie that I am, my attention soon turned to the blueberry goods. I bought a jar of blueberry jam for my mom (she is to have surgery on Tuesday, and she loves blueberries, so I'm bringing the jam over to her that day so that she won't be so miserable after the procedure), and I was highly tempted to buy some for myself, but did not. I did, however, buy the blueberry vinegar, with the intent of making a salad with spinach, fresh cucumbers, tomatoes, and feta cheese, with the vinegar sprinkled throughout. One sample taste of that vinegar convinced me it would be marvelous in a spinach salad. Or even lettuce salad. It has a smooth fresh taste, not as harsh as regular vinegar, so I expect it'll go well against feta cheese, though not as well against something like gorgonzola. However, you never truly know about tastes until you experiment. Canter-Berry Farms has recipes on their web site, so I will no doubt try those as well.

I drove farther along the Green Valley Road, past our favorite Christmas Tree farm, and decided at the last minute to take a turn around the Flaming Geyser State Park. As I approached the entrance booth, I noticed a pile of beer cans and liquor bottles near the park ranger booth. My suspicions of those worthy gentlemen were dispelled when I saw a sign prohibiting alcohol in the park. Yet, as I passed, I noticed the beer cans were crushed, obviously empty. Why take empty beer cans from park visitors? And if they weren't empty, why were they empty now? Hmmm.... Nevertheless, I informed the comfortingly lucid and cheerful ranger that my purpose in visiting the park was to drive around and take some pictures, and I was waved through. Best, I thought, to avoid asking awkward questions of park rangers when wanting to enjoy a sunny half hour or so in a State park. I wanted badly to take a picture of the pile of beer cans, but there a line of cars sat behind me, waiting to get through.

The park was fairly full, with families and couples out for picnics and general fun in the sun and the river. Even so, there were plenty of shady spots, with picnic benches and little park grills. I cannot imagine a better day than this to be in a park.

I spent perhaps 20 minutes there, as time was growing short, and I did want to visit Green Valley Meats on the way back. I kept going east for a while through unfamiliar territory and a road I have never been on, found myself going through Black Diamond (did not stop at the superb Black Diamond Bakery there, alas), looped around back west on Auburn-Black Diamond road, then decided to take the SE Lake Holm Road, which I knew would take me back to the Auburn-Black Diamond road again, and then into Auburn proper. I seem to have a good sense of direction; even when I'm on an unfamiliar road, if I know the general area, and the sun is not at high noon, I can find my way back somehow. But I easily get lost in a city, go figure. I had plenty of time to shop at Green Valley Meats (I ran up a $40 bill, but hey, it didn't go over $50!), getting a bag of pepperoni, ground buffalo, smoked chicken ($6.87 each!), and smoked pork tenderloin, and get home with plenty of time before I had to go to the Chrysalis closure.

Dinner was a meal of the smoked chicken, with a side of lettuce, tomato, and cucumber salad with non-fat feta cheese, Wheat Thins crackers, and dill dip. I did indeed put the blueberry vinegar on it, and it exceeded my expectations.

Altogether a satisfying day.